192 Months, to the Very Day: I Quit

To my beloved brothers and sisters, and friends of The Glenburn Community Church:

Still a light.

There is so much that I would like to say about the past sixteen years since I began serving as the pastor of The Glenburn Community Church. But many of those blessings are still obscured by the pain of these past five months. The blessings have not disappeared, however. The joy and privilege of having served at Glenburn will remain a part of me forever. And those blessings will again become clearer, I believe, as I bring my role in prolonging this pain to an end.

Since August 15, I have tried to serve in as pastorally a fashion as possible, while still adhering to the restrictions placed on me by our board of trustees. I have (more often than not—but I have had some dark moments) sought to answer, “What would Jesus have me do?” and bring as redemptive an outcome as possible for all concerned. In doing so, I have had two major motivations.

"Good fences make good neighbors"?
Robert Frost didn't think so.

First, I had hoped to communicate my own repentance, whether there could be any forgiveness or not. Especially with the addition of false accusations, I longed to offer clarification as well as confession. But I remained bound by having been placed on “administrative leave” and instructed not to initiate contact with any members of the Glenburn congregation. My subsequent request to address the congregation more formally was denied. And so, I have complied with this limitation until today. (Let me add here that I have been very grateful for those who have chosen to initiate contact with Shelly and me. We have greatly needed and appreciated your support.)

My second motivation is more difficult to describe without unfairly and unnecessarily disparaging the board of trustees. I cannot imagine the difficulty they faced in responding to the reports they received. It is perhaps my own ego that suggests that communicating with me might have helped them to avoid the missteps that unfortunately complicated the legalities of the situation. But those entanglements occurred, nonetheless. I take solace in the hope that the contradictory claims and accusations made were the result of miscommunication between the board and their lawyer, rather than originating in intentional misrepresentations of the facts. Still, I have been motivated as your pastor to hold our board accountable for the unscriptural, unethical, and illegal actions taken. But those efforts end today.

Resignation: when the remaining moves
merely postpone the inevitable.

Attempts to have The Glenburn Community Church legally terminate my employment have been ineffective. Therefore, I am resigning from my role as your pastor. I do so, not because I am weary of the horrific process of communicating through multiple lawyers with my brothers and sisters in Christ. Nor am I motivated by impatience in wanting to resume communication and perhaps restore our relationships. (That may be, in fact, impossible.) I would like to believe, however, that I would persevere in my responsibilities toward you, even if the mental and emotional stress of responding to conflicting claims and accusations were redoubled. Finally, I have delayed this decision because, as all of you know, I simply am a pastor to anyone I have opportunity to serve. Excluding you from my love and care is, indeed, impossible.

I will continue to pray for God’s best blessings to abound to you and yours. But I remain convinced that doing what is right and good must first be grounded in what is true. And so, given the complicated structure of our state’s legal system, I face a scriptural quandary that prevents me from serving you further. I have condensed the theology of it as best I can in the paragraph below.

Stalemate: when there are
no further moves possible.

Romans 13 requires our submission to legal authorities. The authority governing employment law is the Labor Commissioner. But the focus of the Labor Commissioner does not differentiate between the board of trustees and the rest of the church as part of a California not-for-profit religious corporation. Therefore, the substantial financial penalties would be enforced against the church, with no recourse to the errors-and-omissions insurance that would otherwise cover the board’s actions. This is where the quandary arises. In order to rectify the board’s violations of our bylaws and my contract, without harming the church financially, it would be necessary to file a lawsuit against the board. Not all would agree, but I believe that I Corinthians 6 prohibits me from doing so. (For those familiar with the passage and organizations like Peacemakers: the board declined the offers of two Christian mediators toward reconciling these issues.)

As concerned as I am for the future of our congregation, and for the impact of my own sin and these subsequent events on the testimony of the body of Christ, I am at an impasse. In seeking what is true, and right, and good, I entrust you to the care of our Lord and Savior, and whomever else He may call to serve His purposes at Glenburn in the future. May His grace and mercy reign.

Still your servant for Jesus’ sake (II Corinthians 4:5),

Bill

Rev. Wm. Darius Myers, DMin, CT

Donald Trump Makes Sense – How to understand the attractiveness of the most frightening presidential candidate in recent memory (which is saying quite a lot since he is most likely to be running against Hillary Clinton in November).

Brown shirt sold separately.

A friend I greatly respect recently posted his frustrations over watching what had been billed as a debate among presidential candidates. Instead, “everything seemed to be turned into a petty argument.” He singled out Donald Trump as “especially irritating—constantly saying the same things over and over in response to questions.” He specifically questioned Trump’s claims to be “a unifier” who “can work with people.”

In Trump’s defense, then, I would argue that these very traits are not only evident, but chief among the key principles on which Trump’s candidacy, attractiveness, and electability rest. In fact, Donald Trump may have the greatest potential of any current, former, or potential presidential candidate for unifying people in the United States of America. Here's why:

Trump Makes Sense Because of “How America Got Great in the First Place”

Don't polish too hard.
The plating's rather thin.

First, we must recognize the structures and systems that have made America great. Granted, some criticize that we were never so “great” as we remember being. But we are, indisputably, far better off than the vast majority of others elsewhere in our world. The United States' corporate-controlled socio-political system has raised standards of living to dizzying heights. When we recognize the structures and systems that have made this possible, we can more fully celebrate how our greatness has been accomplished, and how beneficial at least one term of a Trump presidency would be.

Without a Trump presidency, would our socio-political system still continue to improve our standard of living? Yes. The machine abides, whomever rides its gears. It is delusional to believe that any candidate could preserve our America and yet obstruct the structure’s steady process of marginalization, exploitation, oppression, and depersonalization. Previously, though, we were able to provide extraordinarily high standards of living and other benefits to U.S. citizens at the expense of "other resources" elsewhere in the world. By redefining others as relatively more or less human than others, we have built the largest consumer economy in the world, while simultaneously excusing the destruction of whole nations, cultures, and people groups as arguably unfortunate, but unquestionably necessary.

"Whose land are you on? Whose land am I on?
From California to the New York Island...."

Sadly, for many of us, the flow of resources from disenfranchised two-thirds world countries into our own is no longer as unimpeded as it once was. And so…

Trump Makes Sense Because of “How to Make America Great Again”

Second, then, we must also recognize that the world-wide playing field has been leveled. The biggest bully on the block finds that the proliferation of many lesser bullies is becoming insurmountable. This is a result of improved technology and industry now available elsewhere in the world, coupled with our own insatiable aspirations to ever-greater luxuries here at home. Thus, those "foreigners" and "third-world" resources we once successfully marginalized, exploited, oppressed and depersonalized have developed the capability to more effectively resist our efforts at pillaging the global village.

Just. One. Guess.

Compounding our difficulties, the ever-increasing expense of our expanding military investments has proven ineffective in completely curbing these others’ uncooperative attitudes. Worse, as we have lowered the quality (and quantity) of life elsewhere, we have inadvertently depleted others’ resources to the point that too little is now available for enhancing our lifestyles. Our ability to further deplete the scarcity of those in other countries is no longer a reliable means to supply the never-ending increase in our excesses.

Therefore, if the quality of living in America is to continue increasing, then the quantity of those who are allowed such quality must be reduced. Crude efforts like mass deportations, refugee rejection, and immigration prevention (so necessary, but still unlikely in a single term Trump presidency) would not be sufficient. To support the comfort and convenience of most (and the luxuries of a few), some of those remaining within our borders (including what some may persist in defining as “citizens”) will need to be uncomfortably inconvenienced through the reduction of their basic sustenance. Though some of these may still be willing and able to apply themselves to supporting our economy, they cannot be allowed to hinder the progress that can come only as we “decrease the surplus population” (to quote St. Ebenezer of Scrooge).

By my count, we're batting .125
on defending the defenseless.
(.100 if you count North America.)

Trump Makes Sense Because He Defines “What America Must Become”
So, yes, I have no doubts in the accuracy of Donald Trump’s claims. From what I have seen and heard, I cannot disagree: he does unify and can work with people. Remember, though, what we mean by “people.” The framers of the United States Constitution meant something less than you or I might when they referred to the benefits they believe should be available to "all men." Those whom they claimed were “created equal” did not, in fact, include me—despite my highly-esteemed status as a middle-aged uptight white guy. (I am not, it may surprise you to learn, a land-owner.) So, were we speaking of this two hundred years ago, Donald Trump’s claim would be true, despite the fact that he might find me impossible to work with.

So, upon our nation’s historic precedent, preserved and defended, despite our occasional decisions to “officially” include others among the ranks of human persons, Trump makes sense if we are to become More American for Fewer AmericansÔ.  At this stage in our nation’s development, we can only become More AmericanÔ by ensuring that with each passing year, month, week or day (however frequently we can fuel the trains and the ovens) we create a land of Fewer AmericansÔ. When “the people” unify by disqualifying those whom Donald Trump can not work with, as I have said, Trump makes sense.

Edmund Burke would agree also.

An Alternative to Consider (Especially Among My Theologically-Conservative Evangelical Tribe)

Or, we could consider all others as they truly are: human persons, equally created to bear the image and likeness of one God eternally existing in three persons. While not all of us will agree on the theological foundations of this belief, here is what I mean by this:  We are all indispensably interrelated to all of the one anothers of not only our nation but every other as well.

Of course, if I were to realize how commonly human I am, and that all you others are, too, then I might also find it necessary to “do unto others as I would have others do unto me.” Sadly, since that’s even less popular than I wish Donald Trump would be, we may soon find ourselves no longer in the “land of the free and the home of the brave,” but where we continue to make America More American for Fewer AmericansÔ.

Radical Threats Require Radical Responses

I really try to encourage dialogue, especially toward doing theology in community. But I’m finding the current debate tiresome. It’s not just the question about whether to accept or reject Syrian refugees (among others). The assumptions being made and the labels being applied to either side of the discussion quickly begin to obscure and prevent rational dialogue.

Worse, among Christians, one’s position on the issues seems predictably predicated on other decisions to accept or reject one side or the other of a longstanding divide. Though there are many ramifications, at the core of these disputes is whether our particular tradition emphasizes either The Great Commission (e.g., Matthew 28:18-20, among other iterations) or The Great Commandment (Matthew 22:36-40).

So let me ask, can we choose between The Great Commission and The Great Commandment?

Certainly the historic divide in North American Christendom would suggest that we have tried to do so. We tend to focus intently but exclusively on either serving Christ and others through fulfilling “the social gospel” or seeking to save souls by proclaiming the message of “the gospel gospel.”

I am using terms familiar from my own tradition. Others may label the opposing factions differently. But as one among those who major on The Great Commission, let me first explain why we cannot dismiss The Great Commandment. Going into all the world, we are commissioned to make disciples of all the nations—teaching them to observe all that Jesus Christ has commanded us to do. Likewise, for those emphasizing The Great Commandment, the greatest expression of our love for any of our neighbors, the same love we would claim for ourselves, would be an introduction to the God we are called to love “with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.”

Despite this continuing factiousness, I have great hopes for unity in the body of Christ. This is largely because I fail to see why we should ever choose between right words and right actions. Integrity means holding both as one. Both spring from a heart filled with God’s love, guided by His Spirit in right purposes and attitudes, and seeking to bless anyone and everyone.

But there’s the problem. Even twenty centuries ago, Jesus’ efforts to bless “anyone and everyone” raised concerns, questions, and hackles.

Among the questions raised by “love your neighbor” was, of course, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus’ answer was more shocking than we might imagine. Today, “The Good Samaritan” is so ingrained in our culture that we may imagine that Samaritans were generally regarded as good. The opposite is true. They were not just non-Jews, but considered worse than Gentiles. They had been Jews, up until the eighth century B.C. They were called “dogs” long before anyone would have thought of them as household pets. “Mongrels” would be a more accurate translation in our culture. When Jesus commanded His followers to love their enemies, many of those earliest disciples would count Samaritans as well as Romans within that category.

So, as difficult as it is for me to accept the answer to “Who is my neighbor?” I am just as committed to the question “Who is my enemy?” And that causes me even more serious problems. You see, if I am going to claim to be a follower of Jesus Christ, I have to love ISIS (aka ISIL, or Daesh, or Al-Qaeda, or The Taliban). For the sake of theological consistency, I have to believe that suicide bombers are intended to bear the image and likeness of one God, eternally existing in three Persons. Given the United States history I was taught, I also have a healthy respect for the efficacy of terrorism and guerilla warfare in arresting the attention of overwhelmingly dominant world powers. (viz. Colonies v. England, ca. 1776.)

But almost as troubling as the thought of hugging an Islamic extremist wearing an explosive vest is the thought of saying, again, “I have to love ISIS.” When I have said as much from the pulpit, the church foyer conversations have been…well, let’s just say “livelier than usual,” to be sure.

But is there any clearer an enemy? Is there any greater opportunity to demonstrate the radical charity Jesus commands? Can we imagine any better moment in which to live-out what we believe about the overwhelming love of God?

These moments come only rarely. The most recent prior circumstances like these may have been over half a century ago.

In January, 2012, Paul Louis Metzger spoke at the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Service of The Albina Ministerial Alliance held at Allen Temple Christian Methodist Episcopal Church in Portland, Oregon. (You can find the text of his message here.) In his remarks, Dr. Metzger included a quote I have found exceptionally inspirational. I wish I had known of it during my very brief sojourn as a minority amidst an opposing dominant culture.

• To our most bitter opponents we say: ‘We shall match your capacity to inflict suffering by our capacity to endure suffering. We shall meet your physical force with soul force. Do to us what you will, and we shall continue to love you. We cannot in all good conscience obey your unjust laws because noncooperation with evil is as much a moral obligation as is cooperation with good. Throw us in jail and we shall still love you. Bomb our homes and threaten our children, and we shall still love you. Send your hooded perpetrators of violence into our community at the midnight hour and beat us and leave us half dead, and we shall still love you. But be ye assured that we will wear you down by our capacity to suffer. One day we shall win freedom but not only for ourselves. We shall so appeal to your heart and conscience that we shall win you in the process and our victory will be a double victory.’ (found here; accessed on 1/16/12)

Do we see a similar opportunity today? If not, why not? Is it because we question whether Dr. King’s ideals are still valid today? If they are not, is that because we have changed, or because we have not changed? What I mean to ask is this: haven’t we always rejected Dr. King’s message as unrealistically idealistic, practically unsafe, or possibly even unbiblical? The answer depends on who we mean by “we.”

Like Metzger, I am also a member of “the white Evangelical Christian community.” As much as it often pains me to be included with others who misuse the term (Evangelical), I cannot help but be exposed to their position-statements. Regarding Dr. King, the otherness of the Black experience is only one small cleft of the chasm separating his sensibilities from our own. Too, an innate suspicion of “the social gospel” has been so trained into us (again, speaking of Evangelicals) that any action beyond simple proclamation is foreign to us. Add to all this the illusion that the civil rights movement has provided not only equality but mutual respect, and we can live out our fantasy that the world no longer needs such radical, albeit non-violent reordering.

But it is a fantasy, this presumption we make that we live in a mature society where equality has been accomplished. Even for those who refuse to acknowledge the continued exploitation and oppression within our own borders, we cannot deny that our 21^st Century North American luxuries come largely at the expense of others elsewhere. Why do we choose to continue in such delusion? Because we lack certain key elements essential to adopting Dr. King’s message and methods.

Metzger notes Dr. King’s “conviction, courage, and compassion” which “flowed from Jesus’ call to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us (Matthew 5:44).” But this reveals yet another of the dark recesses in that vast chasm between the 1960s civil rights movement and our own dreamworld. We are not persecuted. We are not the minority. We are, in fact, as white Evangelicals (and those who support our vocal oligarchy) participating fully in the dominant culture.

So, how do Dr. King’s words apply to those who are willing to continue to “inflict suffering” rather than risk the possibility of having to endure any of it? We who bomb others’ homes and threaten their children are the ones who apparently fear something far worse than being worn-down by others’ “capacity to suffer.”

Yet that is the operative term: fear.

For many, it is fear that prevents us from showing love to our neighbors, on the grounds that we might inadvertently open the door to our enemies as well. On the local level, for example, showing hospitality to the marginalized in my community might allow some to see and covet and perhaps even steal some of the stuff I value (overly so, to the point of idolatry). At the international level, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, sheltering the homeless, and doing so by accepting refugees might allow some among our enemies to accompany them. The irony of this worry among those who regularly point out how porous our borders are already suggests that we would want ISIS’s opponents among the refugees to be present in even greater number. But discussing that question will have to wait for another opportunity.

For now, our fears demand that the key question be this: What will we do if (or when) our enemies begin to inflict on our soil what we so regularly ignore as it occurs on their own soil? Why doesn’t it matter to us what is done against other people elsewhere (unless, like Parisians, they are sufficiently Western in culture, and white in complexion)?

Such fearful questions suggest an answer, but only one that requires of us the “conviction, courage and compassion” to be followers of Jesus Christ: Love them.

Hungering and Thirsting after Righteousness: A Case for Declining the Services and Benefits of the American Justice System

One of the first officers I worked with as a police chaplain told me about a paper he had written during his criminal justice education. His thesis was that what we call a justice system is more important to recognize as a system of crime and punishment. Further, he explained, the punishment cannot fit the crime. Otherwise, criminals would consider the cost-benefit ratio of their actions (a willingness to do the time for having done the crime) and include the potential for committing multiple crimes before being caught, or even going without being caught at all. Therefore, punishments must far exceed the actual cost of the crimes committed so that there is a negative incentive that changes the balance of the equation. Those who are caught and convicted must be shown to receive more than retributive justice. They must be made an example of through the vengeful infliction of significantly greater consequences than those they have caused to others.

Some time ago, Paul Louis Metzger wrote about one of Jesus’ Beatitudes. Jesus said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,” to which Metzger’s title adds, “not those who crave fast food justice.” This raises the question for me, “Does vengeful punishment, or at least its potential infliction ‘if caught,’ promote greater righteousness in any individual, family, community, or society?” No. Injustice breeds injustice. Vengeance builds upon vengeance in a cycle that pits entire law-enforcement agencies against the entirety of communities that they are, theoretically, committed to serve and protect. What do the results suggest about this experiment that we call the criminal justice system? It isn’t working.

To further apply Metzger’s analogy, note his quote from London’s Daily Mail about fast food: “Research shows that unhealthy fats found in dairy products, burgers and milk shakes quickly make their way to the brain, where they shut off the alarm system that tells us when we’ve had enough to eat.” I would suggest that there appears to be something similar in our publicly proclaimed punishments and the voyeuristic tendencies to watch Nancy Grace and others pontificate over every minute detail of testimony and technicality. In the pornographically pervasive portrayals of our “justice system” we lose our abilities to discern and pursue the relationships that result both in and from the righteousness Jesus makes possible.

The numbing effects of exposing ourselves to so much of the crime-and-punishment saga has multiple effects. The worst of these, from my perspective (including service as both a police chaplain and prison chaplain), is that we find forgiveness to be incomprehensible. Accepting that others who have harmed us in the past may indeed harm us again in the future, and yet unilaterally pursuing the reconciliation of the relationship with them—this is ludicrously costly. So, what difference can Jesus make if His followers were to adopt something so insanely risky? Just this: those who would buy into the preacher of these beatitudes, we who also listen and follow when He says to forgive as we have been forgiven by God, and when He says to give to anyone who asks of us…we are destined to a similar fate as our Lord faced. No, not all of us will be crucified. But we will each find ourselves making the myriad sacrifices that parallel the condescension described in Philippians 2:5-8. Jesus gave up much more than we often appreciate, long before He gave the last vestiges of His life itself. Will we, as the Apostle Paul requires, "have this same mind which was in Christ Jesus?"

And yet, even if crucified with Christ, we “nevertheless” live (Galatians 2:20). We are subjected to forces that seem sure to destroy us, and yet are preserved throughout them (II Corinthians 4:6-10). And as we implement the ethics of the Sermon on the Mount (in which the beatitudes are found), we entrust ourselves to the miraculous provision and protection that sustains us, up until the time that Jesus completes our service here on earth (i.e., when that which is for the good of we who love Him and are called according to His purpose—Romans 8:28—is to be taken home to His most immediate presence).

As citizens in 21^st Century North America, we are free to pursue justice. But as subjects of God's eternal kingdom we are, instead, called to do justice—i.e., to give to those whom we owe—and to love mercy—i.e., to forgive those who owe us. This requires, as God says in Micah 6:8, that we walk humbly with God. But to demand our rights, to seek to have others inflicted with vengeance for their wrongs against, or to support a system that operates on such principles? To do so is to ignore the calling to righteousness inherent in the gospel, especially in the Sermon on the Mounts, and undeniably in the beatitudes. 

As you consider the wrongs that others have done to you, pray about giving Jesus’ way a try. You may be shocked and awed by the results.

An Open Letter to the Fourteenth President of Simpson University: Dr. Robin Dummer

I am writing this as an open letter in order to “bear fruit in keeping with repentance” in that my criticism of Dr. Larry McKinney (former president of the Simpson Universityy), Dr. Robin Dummer (formerly interim and now permanent president of the university), the board of trustees, and other key leaders of Simpson University has been aired publicly. My beliefs have not changed about the difficulties we have faced, and still face, as a result of their previous and present actions and inaction. But I am still seeking an effective treatment, even cure, of the conditions my alma mater/employer faces. Are some right to see this as hopeless idealism? Perhaps. But I am who I am, and I believe I am where I have been called to be. On that basis, I felt compelled to appeal to the same Spirit seeking God’s will for Simpson University through others who are who they are, where they have been called to be. (Romans 13:1 applies here, I belive.)

Dear Robin,

I am writing to offer my sincere congratulations on the occasion of your appointment to be the fourteenth president of Simpson University. As gratifying as such an honor must be, I can only imagine that it comes with a very strong sense of the weight of responsibility, especially given the university’s recent history and present circumstances. Therefore, in what follows, I hope you find the encouragement I intend.

In each of the first two congregations I served, I was not their first choice as pastor. The first, Dragerton Community Church in East Carbon City, Utah had no other candidates available to them, and they still voted against calling me. They had good reasons. And their decision might have stood if they had been offered more than one other option.

The Rev. Richard C. Taylor, Sr. (as in our campus’s “Measell-Taylor Residence Hall”) only shared the details with me years later. He had presented two alternatives to the church board. They could call this “too-young” pastor (And I was too young—twenty-two years old, having followed Jesus Christ for just over four years at the time), or he could padlock the church and send “the dozen who’d run the other two hundred off” over to join the Baptists across town. That was what the District Executive Committee had voted to have Rev. Taylor do as District Superintendent. And he would have, except that there was this Bible college graduate who insisted that he felt called to the East Carbon City church. So, rather than close the church, they allowed me to serve them. Recently, thirty-two years later, the current pastor’s son—a Tozer Seminary student—reported that the church perseveres as a strong Christian witness amidst what is still a very difficult community in the Book Cliffs of central eastern Utah.

My perception today is that any successes in those first two congregations depended upon my naïveté. I was simply ignorant of much beyond Dick Taylor’s admonition: “Love the Lord, love your people, and the rest will all work out.” I had far more choice in my fate than did Esther, but I still found myself blessed to be where I was, as I was, “for such a time as this” (Esther 4:14) in both of those “redevelopment” churches.

My perception of you as the fourteenth president of Simpson University, holder of a doctorate in Education, and the author of a dissertation covering this institution’s history, cannot support any claim to naiveté. Neither can Simpson’s board claim ignorance of the pattern that has been followed, and which is now further ratified by their decision to appoint you after two years of service as interim president. And yet, I still believe that you are who you are and where you are “for such a time as this.” Here’s why.

You may be familiar with a phrase representing the antithesis of naiveté, “Only Nixon could go to China.” Those who would have been most critical of the president’s attempt at détente with the world’s largest communist nation were the very ones who were most supportive of Nixon. Not just a conservative Republican, remember, he was the U.S. president who had begun his congressional career on the House Un-American Activities Committee, famously persecuting suspected communists, among whom Alger Hiss was best known.

I believe the corollary holds up: “Only Dummer could lead Simpson to repentance.” I believe that you recognize the duplicity inherent in the university’s contradictory positions. Dr. McKinney asserted that we could not follow the standards of Christian community (or even of the grievance process as written into our own handbooks) on the grounds of our obligation to the contract and employment laws of the state. Today, though, we continue to assert that we are excused from our obligation to follow the laws of the state on the grounds that we are a Christian community. (Need I mention that this also runs counter to declaring the university “a business providing educational services?”)

Dr. Dummer and Dr. Betty Dean, Board Chair

I believe that you see the conflicting positions clearly. I believe that you understand that a recommitment to integrity must form the foundation of the desperately needed financial appeals to our constituency. I believe that you do have the support of the board that appointed you, and could therefore also weather the storm that would accompany any reconciliation of the divergent positions we have taken. And I believe that you would find greater support among staff, faculty, alumni, and other supporters when it becomes clear that there is a single direction in which we are being invited to pull together.

I hope that such repentance will be in the direction of renewing our heritage of Christian community, ethics, and ministry. The liabilities of such a course are clear. It would require us to address justice and mercy in humility with those who have been ostracized from our community for a variety of legal, political, and/or economic reasons. If for no other reason than the potentially expensive restitution that would be required, I accept that repentance might lie in a different direction.

The alternative seems far more reasonable to those whose paradigms are formed through secular business involvements. It could be possible to eventually unify the university in moving toward the business model you have advocated in the past. That course, however, if it were pursued with integrity, has its own liabilities. It would require us to come out from behind the skirts of the ministerial exception and face the judicial consequences of our previous actions.

Either choice would be difficult. But to continue on our course of duplicity would be disastrous. If there is no change, we cannot effectively appeal for support in prayer, fund-raising, and recruitment from a constituency that highly values integrity and ethics. They are eagerly waiting to hear that we are pulling together in the same direction. I also believe they are anxious to see us pull together in the direction of being “The Christian University in Northern California” as more than our marketing slogan.

 

So, because I believe you are who you are and where you are “for such a time as this,” I offer my congratulations and my support in prayer for the man I believe can fulfill the calling incumbent in this moment: “Only Dummer could lead Simpson to repentance.” I pray that you do. And I commit to praying for you, either way.

Your servant for Jesus’ sake (II Corinthians 4:5),

Bill

“25 since 64” – Why Tiananmen Matters to Me

So, the lyrics to Chicago’s “25 or 6 to 4” certainly come into play here. But my primary inspiration this morning was the reminder from Dr. Sam Tsang (via his blog here: http://engagethepews.wordpress.com/2014/06/03/further-reflections-on-518-and-64-a-pro-family-gospel-i-think-not/) and Pastor Jane Lam regarding the 25^th Anniversary of the Tiananmen Square Massacre. Interestingly, in many comments elsewhere, even China’s most adamant apologists do not deny the death toll, nor the essential facts that an oppressive regime was threatened by a popular uprising against the slow (read: imperceptible) pace of claimed reforms that included some who advocated the overthrow of the communist party. As comment-section discussion tend toward, those which follow the Facebook posting BBC World News’ video (“What happened in Tiananmen Square? Explained in 60 seconds.” The link for their main site’s video feed: http://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-27682899) descend quickly into diatribe, rabbit-trails, and name-calling.

Those comments which initially affected me most are those which point out the many similar events prior to and since Tiananmen, spanning the globe in both geographic and cultural complexity. Not to take away from commemorations of the reform movement in China, I would hope that we would consider the other, current venues in which the same patterns are being replicated today. And yet, being the Thanatologist (invested in education and counseling regarding death, dying, bereavement, grief, and mourning), I would also like to ask us to consider one other aspect. The dead, and their families.

Sometimes the tanks stop for pedestrians.

Whether Tiananmen, Egypt, Syria, Yugoslavia, or Cambodia, or Ruby Ridge, Waco, Oklahoma City, or any number of other contexts that may come to mind, our commemorations are appropriate, even though they may be exploited for other purposes. But in those exploitations for political, social, religious, or other “teaching moments,” consider with me the grief and mourning of the families, friends, coworkers, and classmates who have experienced the loss, not of dozens, or hundred, or thousands, but of their own – parents, spouses, children, friends – now gone.

Sometimes the tanks don't stop for pedestrians.

For the sake of those for whom 64 (the common Chinese reference to the events of June 4, 1989, according to Dr. Tsang) brings a reminder of those lost to them, I ask God to bring comfort and peace, even amidst the continuing (and, on days of commemoration, intensified) distractions of the causes, conflicts, and calamities for which the death of your own has become a symbol. For the sake of those who imagine that these things happen to other people elsewhere, and never here, to us, I ask God to bring compassion and purpose. Only then is there hope that it will not happen here and to us: when we determine that it should not happen anywhere to anyone. Finally, for the sake of those who believe in the use of “death as an object lesson,” symbolizing their agenda, cause, or position, I ask God to temper your passions for ideology, reputation, and self-assurance with a humility borne by our common humanity. “We are persons; please handle with care.”

(And allow us to mourn our dead.)

BFREF: If you don't have one, start one.

Dear Friends,

You may not be blessed to live in a small enough community to be so interconnected as we are in the Intermountain Area. But you may still have a local organization that has committed itself to addressing the widening gap between public and legislative expectations and executive budgeting for our public schools. And if you don’t have such an organization, as you’ll see below: there’s a chance you could start one!

The friend who first introduced me to the Burney-Fall River Education Foundation (BFREF), when he was a member of their board of directors, was unable to attend the annual fund-raising dinner and auction this past Saturday night. He asked how it went. This is what I wrote in reply. I’ve redacted the local names. Folks up here in the Intermountain Area will know who’s who, probably. But maybe if you have to fill in with your own local personnel, restaurant, newspaper, etc., you’ll still find it interesting, and perhaps even more inspiring toward how you might support what is, or could be true in your community, for your schools, serving your children.

Regarding BFREF:

Saturday was a blast, even being as painfully ill as I was. Attendance was said to be outstanding. (I haven’t tracked the numbers like others have.) One of the most fascinating activities, for me, is to look at the various expressions of gratitude for the grants provided during the past year. It still strikes me a strange that so often, when I talk about the great work being done toward enhancing the education of our children, the conversation turns to how awful it is that someone isn’t already paying for most of these things. Whether it’s supposed to be budgeted by the district, sent to the schools by the parents, or included as part of a teacher’s personal contribution to their employers’ business (that’s the concept that strikes me as most odd—especially shortly after tax time when I’m forced to look at how expensive it is to have a public school teacher for a wife!), so many imagine that there is some technology fairy, or publishing gnome, or maybe laminating and binding elves who are supposed to make it all magically appear. Of course, with some of the photo-essays, there’s the challenge of determining who it is that is thanking the foundation for what—not every teacher is skilled at communicating via display-board.

But even when I can’t quite figure out which item in the photos it is that some teacher and class  are grateful for (they’re recognizable, I’m sure, to their fellow district personnel), I am absolutely convinced of the value and necessity of the work being done, and the effectiveness of the support provided. I was even more convinced Saturday night when two folks from Cedarville were introduced. They were in attendance in order to explore further how BFREF operates, in preparation for establishing their own version of a foundation for their schools.

Still, having followed the primary fund-raising work of the foundation for several years (i.e., the dinner/auction), I will say that there seemed to be a number of items missing from the various auctions and raffles. Some were sadly missing (i.e., [recently deceased, much-beloved teacher’s] consistent fiber-arts contributions), and some were, well, conspicuously and oddly absent. Just from memory, I think we’ve had two to six yards of crushed gravel, a tool chest or two, rustic benches, tickets to a Giants game, and a bit wider range of artwork in just about each of the prior years I’ve attended, along with a selection of unique one-time-only contributions (e.g., the FFA picnic table that went somewhere in the $2000s, as I recall). In the live auction there were two different lots that were essentially accessorized greens fees (although one included one of those outrageously oversized drivers), two more that were each fly-fishing excursions, and another that was an opportunity to go shoot ground squirrels on someone’s ranch. That’s five lots out of a total of eighteen in the live auction. But we did have fun. As I was told by those with better vantage points, it was [district administrator] and [district administrator] who most enjoyed running [notoriously supportive retiree – who has purchased the pine needle basket at each auction, forever] up on [outstanding local artist’s] pine needle basket (sometimes a dollar at a time—to the minor annoyance of our auctioneer, [area newspaper publisher/reporter/photographer]), and I think they were joined by one other bidder in the early stages of [talented, self-taught watercolor artist’s] painting ending up at $1000 (and, in case you were wondering, also ending up at my house).

Unusually, the dinner itself drew mixed reviews. Well, what’s most remarkable, I guess, is that I heard one criticism. (I wasn’t in any shape to put something in my stomach, even a bottle of water, and still be sure to hold out through the end of the live auction—my favorite item was listed last, of course.) But it looked very nice. Not sure what some of the expectations may have been, or what range of variables there may have been in what arrived at various tables. Of course, I do know [eponymously incorporated local restaurateurs’] skills. And I also know the eccentricities and peccadilloes of some of the assembled connoisseurs. So, I’m willing to say it was as wonderful as usual.

Okay, well, that’s probably more words than I spoke to anyone Saturday night, actually. But writing it out gave me more of an opportunity, I think, to reflect on my role as an annual supporter and occasional grant-writer, and to be thankful for those who commit to ensuring that the business of supplementing the declining material and capital investment available for our children’s education continues to grow and thrive. So, I am glad you asked.

“Space to Be Heard” – Part One (in which I whine quite a lot about my busy weekend)

The question was asked as part of the online discussion forum in my doctoral program:“How do we create ‘space to be heard?’” But I’m not sure I understand the question. Of course, that doesn’t prevent me from trying to answer it, even as a self-therapeutic exercise. If this actually gets posted, though, you can assume I thought it might be helpful to share it with you.

The question comes to me in the busiest weekend of the year: “How do we create ‘space to be heard?’” The context given was that “contemporary culture is hard of hearing,” and so those of us who are Conservative Evangelical Christians (I’m one, but the label doesn’t fit everyone I serve with, even at The Glenburn Community Church, just so you know.) retreat to where we “find echo chambers of agreement.” (Anyone who has been to one of our Adult Bible Studies knows how hilariously ironic that phrase is to Glenburn. Blessedly, “Theology-in-community gets loud sometimes!”)

Perhaps the question strikes me so strangely because of when it was asked. I need some space. But I’m not having trouble being heard.

Here’s what my schedule looks like at the moment. (Feel free to skip to the end of the schedule at whatever point you feel exhausted.)

Friday, 9:00-10:30a – correspondence, preparation for a course I’m teaching, and fine-tuning of Friday night’s homily; 

10:45a-1:30p – visit with staff, students, faculty, and parents before and after responsibilities as shot-clock operator for two games at our High School’s basketball tournament; 

1:30-2:05 – retrieve voice-mail, panic, and then track-down our maintenance chairperson to ensure that someone is repairing the non-functional sanctuary furnace prior to the 6:00 p.m. community event (see below) our church (i.e., our currently-solo pastor—me) is hosting; 

2:10-3:30 – help to lead singing, place ornaments, and watch refreshments being served to residents of our skilled nursing facility at the annual Christmas Tree Lighting; 4:00-5:00 – review notes for 6p event; 5:15-7:45 – turn up heat, turn on lights and sound, unlock buildings, check bathrooms, rearrange furniture, direct traffic, greet guests, play piano, open and close in prayer, present nine-minute homily as featured speaker, and provide after-service counseling at the Community Candlelight Remembrance Service sponsored by Mayers Memorial Hospital District/Intermountain Hospice and hosted by The Glenburn Community Church; 8:00 – get home and eat dinner and at some point fall into bed.

Saturday, 8:00-10:00a – change batteries, test equipment, unwrap candy-canes & fill Santa’s sack, greet Santa and Mrs. Claus, go over final instructions in preparation for “Laptop Photography” at Santa’s Workshop; 10:55-6:15 – Transport and set-up equipment, briefly train new assistant, photograph children and others on Santa’s lap as well as other portions of the Santa’s Workshop craft and art show, tear-down and transport equipment, thank and pay new assistant, have lunch with Santa and Mrs. Claus (thank and pay them, too), crop and adjust photos for packages bought as well as thank you gifts to others—all while receiving reports on the progress of the furnace issues, the reopening of a local restaurant, potential mandarin orange sales at the church, and a variety of physical-mental-emotional-spiritual health needs of friends, congregants, community members, and total strangers—then, uploading and ordering prints of the above; 6:15-9:15 – watch Ohio State lose to Michigan State in the Big Ten Championship Game while returning phone calls regarding family crises (one personal, one congregational); 9:15-10:30 – review sermon and service notes for Sunday worship at Glenburn.

Sunday, 5:00-7:00a give up on sleeping until 6:00 and writing this blog post instead; 7:00-8:00 – review sermon and service notes; 9:00a-1:00p – Sunday services, etc.; 1:30-early evening – Ornament-making in Johnson Park. (Johnson Park is a town, not an outdoor gathering place—the current “real feel temperature” is seventeen-below, but the high today should reach 29…which will feel like 32, they promise!)

Monday, 9:00a-3:00p – office hours, counseling, and whatever else is waiting for me on voice-mail and on the loveseats in my office; 5:00-9:00 or so – open and close in prayer, play piano, present nine-minute homily as featured speaker, and provide after-service counseling at the Community Candlelight Remembrance Service sponsored by Mayers Memorial Hospital District/Intermountain Hospice and hosted by Burney Presbyterian Community Church; have dinner with Hospice staff and volunteers; come home and fall into bed.

I have warned my congregation that if they call me on Tuesday morning, they deserve to hear “raw emotion expressed with brutal honesty.” (That perspective on some of David’s psalms is actually the theme of my homily from the Community Candlelight Remembrance Services. But I’m sure it will apply to those phone calls, as it may soon apply as well to some of the ongoing bumps, detours, and construction delays in my doctoral program. But I’ll keep the language clean. I promise.)

(here endeth the litany for today – more to follow)