“Prioritize Public Schools!” – How Martin Niemöller would advise Bertrand Russell’s chicken.

"Why are they feeding us this?"

I want to tell you a different kind of chicken joke, followed by a more traditional chicken joke.

Joke the First

The first chicken joke expands on an analogy drawn by the philosopher Bertrand Russell. In chapter six of The Problems of Philosophy he discusses inductive reasoning—the idea that future events will continue a pattern we have observed in the past.

For example, because the sun has appeared each of the past 20,000+ mornings, I assume that it will appear yet again tomorrow. But however sure I am of that fact, Russell points out that there are limitations, even tragic limitations to my assumptions.

Bertrand Russell laughing at some joke or other.

To show these limitations he offers the observations of a particular chicken—about which I am about to make a rather gruesome joke, with apologies and the appropriate trigger-warnings to my chicken-raising sister, Dr. Rebecca Linger.

Our friend the chicken knows two things to be universally true. First, that every morning, the farmer appears and scatters feed before the assembled chickens. Second, that from time to time the farmer also appears again in the late afternoon and, from among the assembled chickens, she selects one, chops off its head, and eventually consumes its lifeless body.

But here is where our chicken friend’s inductive reasoning fails, according the Russell. The chicken’s observation each day of her life has been this: the farmer always selects some other chicken besides me. That has been true. And it will continue to be true…until the day on which it is no longer true.

Bertrand Russell’s chicken could use some advice from Pastor Martin Niemöller.

Niemöller was arrested in 1937 and held by Nazi officials in a series of prisons and concentration camps until 1945. Nevertheless, he is often criticized for having been slow to recognize the dangers posed to some of his fellow-citizens, then to his country, to the rest of Europe and, eventually, the nations engulfed in World War II. Yet, in retrospect, The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum prominently quotes this version of his famous poem:

            First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—

                        Because I was not a Socialist.

            Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—

                        Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

            Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—

                        Because I was not a Jew.

            Then they came for me—

                        and there was no one left to speak for me.

Now that you know these things, let me tell you the joke.

What would Martin Niemöller say to Bertrand Russell’s chicken? “Ask yourself, ‘How many chickens does the farmer have left before she gets to you?’”

Why Joke the First matters:

Do we find this first joke funny? Probably not. And if not, what does that say about who and where we are in the chicken’s story?

Martin Niemoller, laughing,
probably at some other joke.

For Russell (and Niemöller), the joke is clearly on the chicken (and Niemöller)—fat and happy until the hatchet falls. Russell’s chicken and Niemöller’s advice combine to represent a mindset I am observing among the opponents of public education, primarily in the immediate context of our local community. (A similar attack is being mounted at the highest levels of our federal government, and the publicity surrounding those efforts certainly emboldens the efforts here. But so long as public education remains largely controlled by local school boards, I intend to focus on the children of the Fall River Joint Unified School District.)

Why I Am This Passionate:

Let me digress for a moment to make full disclosure of my passions in this matter.

My family has been involved in public education since long before my birth. I have been involved as a volunteer and donor in many aspects of public education throughout my life. I am married to a public school teacher. I count many public school teachers among my friends. Even so, my wife and I considered carefully the expectations of some within our faith tradition that we would be educating our children in private, Christian institutions, if not homeschooling them. I have frequently considered what have been offered as the “options” and “alternatives” to public schools. These “choices” are routinely offered in opposition to perceived (and, I admit, actual) failings in our public schools. But after more than three decades of involvement in this dialogue, my hackles are raised by every advocate for homeschooling, every “alternative educational opportunity” that is offered, and even the ignorant denial of truancy’s detrimental effects on our children—both the individual truant and those children whose educational resources are diminished as a result of these others’ absence. (Schools are paid on the basis of their average daily attendance. Each child’s every absence literally costs the school money that otherwise would be invested in local public education.)

So, as some recommend that we further diminish the enrollment of our public schools, and with that lower enrollment comes the lower funding for even the most essential elements of education, I object and will oppose their efforts. They may be sufficiently funded and organized, and possibly even competent to focus on their own family to the exclusion of others’. But on behalf of those outside the small number who might reap better benefits from others’ costs, I would ask that we instead apply Niemoller’s lesson. Ask yourself, “How many more students can be subtracted from our public schools before there are not enough resources available to educate those who remain?”

Our past observations, that every day of our lives there has been public education, do not support the assumption that, no matter what we do to damage it, there will always be public education. In fact, there has not always been public education. In many places, there currently is not public education. But I am not only asking that we consider the survival of public education. I am asking that we turn our attentions away from the options and alternatives that diminish the education received by the majority of our community’s children. Instead, let us turn toward the improvements and support, or at least encouragements deserved by those whose lives are committed to providing the best possible public schools we can.

Tim Madigan, St John Fisher College

Joke the Second

Tim Madigan of St. John Fisher College wrote “Mr. Russell’s Chicken: A New Symbol for Philosophy” for The Bertrand Russell Society Bulletin. After considering various other philosophers’ probable responses, Madigan imagines that Dr. Russell is asked the most famous of chicken-joke questions. I am choosing to clean up the language for my audience. (Who knew that philosophers were allowed to cuss?!) But according to Madigan, to the question, “Why did the chicken cross the road?” Russell would answer, “Because he finally understood induction, and got…away from the farmer!”

There is a reason that we chickens get to make decisions, locally and directly, about how we want to educate our children…together. As a community, do we need to invest in one another’s children in order to enhance our public schools? Yes, of course. But I would take it a step further.

Special Bonus: Joke the Third

Even those of us who have no school-aged children need to recognize the benefits we all receive by means of our public education system, especially through our local public schools. More than merely recognizing those benefits, we need to invest ourselves in making our schools the best they can possibly be. This means volunteering, donating, and fund-raising. But it also means supporting and encouraging those who chose a career in public education.

"Who built this road across my path?"

That decision to be professional educators means that they receive far lesser returns than others would, given the same investment in college and graduate school education. It has been said that no sane person enters a career in public education with expectations of lucrative salaries. Some teachers respond to that statement with this joke: “No sane person enters a career in public education. Period.” The fact is, sadly, that some have been so wounded in the opposition’s constant attacks on public education that their initial passion is a distant memory. Yet even for the most tired, jaded, and discouraged of my acquaintances, there clearly remains a love for and devotion to the children they serve. These educators deserve our support and encouragement. These children deserve our involvement and assistance.

Let’s Try This:

Rather than imagining the alternatives and options (which some of us may, in fact, be sufficiently privileged to pursue), what if we imagined—and acted upon—a vision of what our public schools could be, if we the public—fellow members of our local community—were to invest ourselves in all our community’s children?

Green Lights Aplenty, Yet I Still Only Hope for Hope

 This morning a friend, who has played basketball at levels higher than I ever dreamed, likened my recent increase in ministry and employment opportunities to the momentum a team experiences when there has been even a brief series of successes on defense and/or offense. A few three-pointers, or a couple of steals in a row, or any number of other combinations can propel one side forward. What had been a close contest moves toward a seemingly inevitable victory. When one player is finding a great deal of that success, it has been said that they have a “green light” to take whatever shot they choose.

Eavesdropping on conversations in the publishing and motion picture production industries, I have also learned what it means to “green light” a project. Here are some of the green lights that have recently begun falling into place for me.

One of those green lights this week was the scheduling of my dissertation defense (also referred to by some as the presentation of my ministry project paper) for April 4. Because this really is a presentation, and not the kind of defense you can “lose,” I now know that I will, in fact, graduate from Multnomah Biblical Seminary in Portland, Oregon on Friday, May 12. Four years of work will have culminated in being a Doctor of Ministry. (I’d use the abbreviation, but some enjoy pronouncing it “demon.” So, well…no.)

Any discussion of green lights has to
eventually get to F. Scott Fitzgerald.
Right?

Another green light, in the sense of getting the go-ahead with other aspects of my ministry, is the invitation I have accepted to serve Multnomah Biblical Seminary as an adjunct professor this fall. I will be teaching one course, being on campus in Reno for just two Friday-Saturday face-to-face sessions with students, and covering the rest of those responsibilities from the internet-connection (which interestingly has failed yet again while I type this) here in my office at the house in Fall River Mills. That means I get to continue being pastor of The Glenburn Community Church, and be a seminary professor as well. Gravy!

Still another green light comes from being part of the faculty for Right On Mission Vocational Seminary. I accepted an invitation this week along with others from the faculty being funded (as in “all-expense-paid”) by Church United. We will be participating in a conference in Washington D.C. entitled “Watchmen on the Wall” late this May. This is a great opportunity to better understand some of the priorities and perspectives of those within our government and from within the Evangelical tradition’s church leadership.

The view from Jay's dock?

Finally, this last “green light” borders on irony, if not the sublimely ridiculous. As some of you may remember, there had been a number of hateful misrepresentations made about me to the faculty and staff of my three-time alma mater,[1] Simpson University, where I was serving at the time as an adjunct professor, preparing to teach “Old Testament: Kings and Prophets.” In short, the President, Provost, and Board Chairman had all suggested, recommended, and requested (though not respectively in that order) to the new dean of the seminary that I be relieved of my responsibilities. To shorten a long story, I did teach my class that following Spring. But I have not had a similar opportunity since. And yet, this past Thursday, I was blessed to guest-lecture in that dean’s Pastoral Care course on what I refer to as “pastoral thanatology”—encouraging and equipping our students to serve our dying and bereaved neighbor. Following that morning’s session, we discussed how we might go about getting similar training into the hands, hearts, and minds of others throughout the Central Pacific District of the Christian and Missionary Alliance (my ordaining denomination).

Neil Hilborn - conveniently attired.

So, I am seeing a lot of green lights.

And that brings two others into view. Some of us who paid more attention in high school’s American Literature class may only need to Google the second reference. Others who are more attuned to social media may only need to Google the first reference. Those of you who immediately recognize both—well, you are doubly blessed, indeed! I do hope, though, that all of you take the time to fully understand what these last two green lights mean to me.

It has been nearly forty years since I first read about Jay Gatsby’s green light, and all the hopes for future success and satisfaction that distant glimmer represented. Gatsby’s green light, of course, never fell fully within his grasp. I have fears about that green light, and the attractive illusion that somehow there is a point of arrival, after which I can say, “I am done.”

Don't blame the fixture.
It's just letting you know it's there.

It has been a much shorter time since I became acquainted with the work of Neil Hilborn. Because the signs at each door of my office’s building glow green, I think of his “exit sign” as another kind of green light. I have fears about that green light as well. It is, for me, no illusion at all that there could be a point of arrival, after which I could say, “I am done,” even though, lately, in the words of Mr. Hilborn, the show has “never been quite bad enough to make me want to leave.”

So, for all those who imagine that all we need is for a few things to go well, to go right, or to go not-quite-so-badly, and we’ll be feeling much better shortly, I’ll tell you this. For all the other green lights I have seen so recently, it is my fear of these two others, Gatsby’s and Hilborn’s, that dominates my thoughts, even now.

---

[1] To refresh your memory: I hold a bachelor’s from Simpson College, a master’s of ministry in pastoral counseling from The Simpson Graduate School of Ministry, and a master’s of divinity from A.W. Tozer Theological Seminary. In total, the four members of my immediate family have earned four bachelor’s, three master’s, and two teaching credentials, and all four of us have been employees of the college/university/seminary, some among us on multiple occasions. 

Funston’s Firefighting and Christian Conflagrations: A Parallel?

Gen. Frederick Funston

Thirteenth Avenue in San Francisco does not exist. At least, there is no street by that name. Between Twelfth and Fourteenth you will find Funston Avenue where the unluckiest number is replaced with a name that some consider to be far unluckier.

During the cataclysmic fire that followed the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake, in order to extinguish the blaze, the commander of the U.S. Army post at the Presidio sought to rob the advancing flames of combustibles in their path. General Frederick Funston’s orders to use explosives to create a firebreak resulted in smoldering and flaming materials being scattered ahead of the fire lines, igniting still more fires. While Funston was initially hailed a hero for his decisive actions (in addition to his questionable firefighting techniques, other unforeseen side-effects allegedly included the deaths of innocent residents when “shoot-on-sight” orders were issued to prevent looting), later evaluations were not so charitable. Thus, renaming Thirteenth Avenue has been seen as either signifying an improvement or irony, largely depending upon which view one takes of General Funston.

This all came to mind as I was reading a post by Paul Louis Metzger that describes a variety of firefighting techniques, building an analogy to conflict resolution and its myriad strategies and tactics. Dr. Metzger compiles them into three categories when he writes, “some situations call for starting conflicts, some call for containing conflicts, while others call for putting out conflicts.” (His post can be found here.)

Some who follow my blog know of the conflicts that continue to smolder at my alma mater and former employer. Those embers that have long been smoldering, occasionally erupted, and have at times explosively removed those whose passions were seen as fuel to be eliminated, or whose talents and contributions were seen as expendable, or both.

How can it be easier to unite under this banner...

Among those overheated exchanges, several attempts at conflict resolution and relational reconciliation failed to rally cooperation due to disagreements over the purposes and priorities of those who sought to establish what the outcome would be, before seeking to engage in the dialogue that would lead to it. Dr. Metzger writes, “The purpose of generating such unease and conflict should always be redemptive.” But the priority of removing those who fail to fall into line with the dominant narrative seems to contradict any claims to resolution and reconciliation.

It is not just at the rarified altitudes of academics and administrators where these conflicts are so decisively ended. At this writing, two more church buildings in my area stand vacant. Both on the main highway that connects Redding to the northeastern California town of Alturas. Both were victims of conflicts that were certainly brought to someone’s conclusion, though not to a resulting cooperation and collaboration.

...than under this one?

Where Dr. Metzger’s point is to encourage “inter-religious or inter-faith dialogue,” he offers the example of a beloved friend who saw the conflicting values and beliefs, “but probed them critically and charitably to cultivate understanding to reduce conflict wherever possible and build trust as neighbors and friends.” It was my privilege to meet Dr. Metzger’s friend on two occasions. First, during an inter-faith gathering of students from Multnomah Biblical Seminary, George Fox University, and our hosts for the event—The Dharma Rain Zen Buddhist Center. The second event was the dedication of their new facilities just over a year later. Abbot Kyogen Carlson, a Zen Buddhist priest, fostered dialogue and sought to resolve conflicts, just as Dr. Metzger does. But where they have sought to do so, and have done so successfully among very different groups of adherents, the means to such ends seem to be beyond the grasp of those who, theoretically, serve the same Christ within similar Christian traditions, or even, as is the case with Simpson University, within the same faculty, staff, and administration who assent to the same doctrinal statement of the same denomination.

I do not mean to downplay the severity of the conflicts that some of us have endured. But I do mean to question how it is that those who share an allegiance to Christ can so easily disregard our allegiance to one another, especially when some who hold mutually-exclusive beliefs find ways to resolve conflict, reconcile relationships, and actively cooperate and collaborate toward mutually-beneficial ends.

Perhaps the first step for us as Christians, toward bringing our conflicts into clearer resolution and reconciling our relationships with one another, might be to swear-off General Funston’s strategies.

Stop blowing things up; and stop shooting anyone who’s not in our uniform.

“I’m Right; You’re Stupid.” – Overcoming Our Tendency to Destroy Dialogue via Social Media

Let me offer the following:

A question. An observation. A process. A conclusion.

The question: When we post to social media, and especially when we construct memes, to whom is our message intended?

The observation: I have friends with whose positions I agree. I have friends with whose positions I disagree. Both groups tend to traffic in narrow, stereotypical misrepresentations of one another, polarizing any issue into the extreme ends of any given spectrum. The result is that I choose not to respond even to those with whom I might agree to some extent when they so overstate their position, or represent it as an attack on other human persons. Many of them only barely rise above the childish rant: “I’m right; you’re stupid.”

The process: Here’s how this seems to be happening.

Seeking to encourage dialogue, I have been regularly engaging some of the moderately overwrought expressions of particular positions. The positions held cover a wide variety of topics. But whether it is gun control, immigration, misogyny, the mutual hatred of Republicans and Democrats, the dangers of allowing expressions of religious faith, or any of a handful of other topics, the positions are not just predictable. The positions held become exclusively binary—they are quickly forced to the extreme ends of each issue’s spectrum. For example, if we hold that “Black lives matter,” then we must believe that “No other lives matter.” Likewise, if we love the unborn human person, then we must despise and seek to torturously enslave women. And those who seek the free exercise of their religious convictions can, in this paradigm, only desire to do so at the expense of others’ rights. In all these and more there is no sense of nuance, no appreciation for our limited perceptions, and no suggestion of third options or even alternative perspectives on either of the two (and only two) positions available on any issue.

And this is what is occurring among the moderately overwrought expressions that I have sought to engage. Other expressions are distinctly hateful and inflammatory, and my engagement of them has, so far, only elicited responses of the “I’m right; you’re stupid” variety.

I try to engage those whose expressions merely exaggerate, whose stereotypes are more universal, and who acknowledge that those who disagree with their positions may, in fact, still have a right to air, warmth, water, and food. Usually, however, even these seem intent only on further enflaming those who share their opinions. This works, of course. Each post offers the opportunity to reinforce the position held through others’ “likes” and “shares” and “retweets” and other means of congratulation, especially toward those who state the positions creatively. Yet this also encourages more extreme expressions. Those with the greatest response go beyond exaggeration into ridiculous hyperbole, beyond stereotypes into depersonalization, and even advocating the exploitation, oppression, and removal (yes, removal and even destruction) of entire groups of human persons.

This polarization continues unabated where either of two conditions exist.

The first condition allows some to remain oblivious to their own extreme expressions. This occurs when one’s social media friends and/or followers are almost entirely of a narrow political, socio-economic, religious, and/or ethnic category. Here, the reinforcement of our beliefs goes unchallenged because it is unheard outside the sycophantic circle (i.e., those who can only voice agreement with another’s thought, most often due to the total lack of any thoughts of their own).

The second condition, however, exists even where one’s circle of friends/followers expands beyond those categories. Those of us who reconnect with old friends from High School and College—and who have advanced a few years beyond those formative associations—find a broader range of opinions being expressed. We may agree with some, disagree with others, or even find ourselves wondering about the thought process that supports the position being stated. But in these cases, the polarization continues. Why? Because of this second condition: tacit approval—meaning we silently allow others to assume our agreement. As much as we may consider how someone has come to a conclusion far different from our own, we rarely engage in dialogue. We tend to respond only to those posts to which we can add a hearty “Amen!” with presumed impunity. Others, we read far enough to categorize into our own stereotypes, then scroll, swipe, or otherwise move on to safer, more agreeable posts.

The Conclusion: Having observed this polarization process, I would offer two uncomfortable suggestions. First, I recommend that we expand our corps of friends and followers to include those with whom we are likely to disagree. Second, I also recommend that we engage, politely, with questions or concerns about the content and tone of others’ posts, and especially the memes that are frequently shared by many.

Will this foster world peace? Are we hoping to come to agreement on these divisive issues? Can this possibly stop the bitterness and hatred being expressed?

I believe it would be a step in the right direction. Because when we choose to engage other human persons with whom we disagree, we would be treating them as though they were other human persons. That, in and of itself, might ramp down the rhetoric and allow us the privilege of actual dialogue. And, even if we may never reach agreement in the 5-10% on which we disagree, at least we might reach an accommodation for the 90-95% of our lives that we hold in entire agreement.

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.

No Apologies, Part Two – What you should say to those who say they’re sorry.

Nice graphic representation of
an imperative sentence.

 In part one, I laid out three common types of apologies, and recommended that we should decline to accept any of them. That left the question, however, “If we were to refuse one another’s apologies, then what do we do about the misunderstandings, offenses and other damage we do in the course of our relationships?” Here’s the answer to that question.

Repentance as an Alternative to Apology – The worst thing about apologizing is that it fails to address any real change in the damaging behavior. Apologies allow us to avoid repentance. But before any suggestion that we need to repent, we need to know what that word means.

Repentance is rare enough in its partial and limited forms. But where some emphasize the emotions of being “sorry” for one’s sins, others portray it as merely stopping a particular behavior, while too few acknowledge that there are accompanying attitudes that need to change as well. In short, repentance involves “all of the above,” along with recognizing and implementing the positive behavior that replaces and displaces the pattern of wrongs that apologies reinforce.

Not a bad idea, especially if you have trouble imagining
the kinds of things that lead to and enable your bad behavior.

In short, here’s what repentance sounds like: “This is what I did. This is how it has hurt you. This is how I propose to repair the damage I have done. And these are the steps I am taking to change my behavior, the attitudes that led to it, and the other ways it shows up even when I’m not harming you in this particular way.” Is this level of detail necessary for every wrong we’ve done? Yes. Otherwise it is too easy for us to ignore the realities that repentance requires.

Jesus said that murder not only has its root in anger, but anger, even when it results only in abusive words, damages so severely as to merit similar consequences. Each harmful action requires repentance, because no single instance of wrong occurs without a supporting cast of underlying attitudes and enabling behaviors. So also it is with the lust that not only may lead to adultery, but that is adultery. Likewise any other breach in our relationships stems from a lack of consideration for those relationships. When we do harm to another, it is because the causes and patterns supporting that harm have taken root within our souls. Therefore, if we choose to repent, then the causes deserve as much attention as the effects.

For more on the "Non-Apology Apology," the "Apology as
Reset-Button," and the "Rationalizing Apology,"
see Part One.

This is why there is still one more element we have to eliminate.

The Folly of False Forgiveness – There is one other factor to be considered in our decision to decline an apology. Too often, Christians especially seem intent on demanding forgiveness in return for an apology. “I said I’m sorry. Don’t be so judgmental. Jesus said you have to forgive me, or you’ll go to hell.” That theology may seem a little warped to some. But the underlying causes of our judgmental attitudes and actions fit the same pattern as above and must be as directly confronted. (e.g., Matthew 6:14-15 and Romans 2:1-4.)

Wouldn’t the wiser path, then, be to simply ignore the wrong, forget the pain, and move forward toward freedom in having forgiven? That is the advice many well-meaning Christians would give. And yet, it requires the pretense that we can “move forward” as though “nothing ever happened.” Practically speaking, that is dangerous. Scripturally speaking, it is unsupportable, even when there is repentance.

God built our brains so that we learn from experience.
Forgiveness is a decision, based on knowledge.
There is no forgetting some of what has been done.

Even when someone claims to be truly repenting, forgiveness involves great risk, and should be undertaken only by those who trust Christ for their protection and provision. Showing mercy is always costly. Yet Jesus does admonish us that when someone comes to us, even seven times in one day, and says that they are repenting, we are to forgive them for what they have done in the past.

Still, forgiveness is not forgetfulness. The patterns of behavior that Jesus noted in the Scribes, Pharisees, Romans, crowds and others suggested that His hearers must constantly be aware of their probable responses and reactions. Whether refusing to cast “pearls before swine,” or to allow the crowds to make Him king by force, or even to let His own disciples thwart His mission by their insistence on turning Him away from danger, Jesus accepted that the attitudes and actions of others would eventually end His life, and yet forgave even those who stood by as He died at their hands.

Had to include this one since it shows my repentance
from intolerance for grammar and spelling errors.

So, we are free to forgive even the unrepentant, of course. But we need not do so ignorantly. Nor are we to do so on the basis of mere words, no matter how “sorry” someone may seem. And even where there is a claim of repentance, John the Baptist’s call to “bear fruit in keeping with repentance” suggests that we would be wise to wait for a new pattern of behaviors to be well-established before choosing to entrust ourselves to the perpetrator in the future.

So, without apology, I recommend that you begin to decline apologies…and pursue repentance and forgiveness instead.

So, how would I recommend you respond to someone’s apology?

“Repent, sinner” works for me.

No Apologies, Part One – Why you should say No to those who say they’re sorry.

Feel free to submit in triplicate to the offended party.

I’m tired of hearing “I’m sorry.” Before you apologize for having said “I’m sorry,” please bear with my own apology for being so slow to admit how annoying I find it. In part, it’s because I’ve lost patience with those who abuse the privilege. So many apologize so constantly for repeating the same bad behaviors that I’ve come to recognize three particular kinds of apology—and I believe we are best served by declining, rejecting, or even rebuking each of them.

Not the most popular rack at Hallmark. Most prefer to write their own.

The Non-Apology Apology – Sports fans and other celebrity-cultists quickly become familiar with the non-apology apology. There are several phrasings, but the blame-shifting remains the same. You’ve heard, no doubt, some form of “I apologize to anyone who may have been hurt by reports of my actions.” Clearly, the fault lies not with the perpetrator of domestic violence, sexual assault, drunk driving, racist ranting, or whatever other egregious behavior is in view. No, the problem is caused either by those who reported the actions or, just as frequently, those whose sensibilities are too fragile to withstand another onslaught against their hopes for upholding basic societal standards.

This would make a nice insert with your choice of card from above.

The non-apology apology is the most popular of the apologies, mostly because each instance is broadcast to millions of potential imitators. Others, like the two below, are experienced more personally.

The Apology as Reset-Button – If you’ve been offered a series of apologies, each one more elaborate, for behaviors that become more egregious with each new instance, then you likely recognize the pattern that accompanies abusive, bullying, or otherwise manipulative relationships. You recognize the echoes of “I’m so sorry. That will never happen again.” You also know the threat or pain that prohibits you from pointing out that it has happened again. Early on, perhaps you incurred the protest, “Why do you keep bringing that up? I said I’m sorry that I do that.” Now, you see no need to hear again that “You need to learn to accept it; that’s just how I am.” You’re supposed to have reset your level of tolerance for another’s behavior to accept yet another new low. You can still object, but only when behaviors surpass the severity of those already apologized for (no matter how often the behavior is repeated). In fact, you’ve probably been made to apologize for pointing out that the other person’s prior apologies appear to have effected no change in their behavior.

Apology Bingo: Works just as well with "Law and Order" episodes
as it does with ESPN's Sportcenter.

Declining to accept an apology seems impolite, but please don’t apologize. Not even if you want to use this last type of apology and tell me why you don’t really need to apologize at all.

The Rationalizing Apology – This pattern actually comes closest to the classic definitions of “apology” as providing a defense or explanation for one’s behavior. The reason I recommend rejecting it as an apology is that it eludes any responsibility for changing that behavior, especially around the person to whom the behavior is being explained. “You know I would never have done that if I hadn’t been so…” angry, or drunk, or tired, or stressed, or surprised, or whatever other mitigating factors explain and excuse my decision to behave badly toward you. Often, this apology saddles the person who is supposed to accept the apology with the responsibility for the bad behavior. If you don’t want to endure it again, then you must change the circumstances that led to it. This differs from the Non-Apology Apology in that it admits that the behavior itself is offensive or damaging. But in some ways it is worse, shifting responsibility and all but guaranteeing a repetition of the behavior at whatever point circumstances warrant it.

Am I saying that you should not accept an apology? Yes. Am I saying not to forgive those who say, “I’m sorry,” especially if they repeat it often? Yes. But if we were to refuse one another’s apologies, then what do we do about the misunderstandings, offenses and other damage we do in the course of our relationships?

We’ll discuss that in part two.

But you should be warned: Part Two gets even more direct about the alternative to apologies.

The Power of Being Meek: How can you threaten to ruin those already in ruins?

Which do you see? Man? Or mouse?

For the first half-hour of the conversation, I felt reasonably certain that I was being lied to. The caller represented himself as having insights and purposes that were at odds with a course of ministry I had pursued. He said that he was aware and actively pursuing a course of action with which my efforts were interfering. He had specific demands of me. But when I asked what goals or outcomes he felt his work was intended to accomplish, he admitted he had no vision for any positive results in the lives of those whom we were discussing. And that’s when the conversation took a turn for the…less-than-pleasant.

I was only reasonably certain that his portrayal was inaccurate, until he offered to lie about me. Of course, it wasn’t an overt threat. “You know, someone could say….” And yes, they could. If they said it to anyone who knows me at all, it’s hard to imagine they could retain any realistic hopes of being taken seriously about that or any other subject in the future. And yet, in discussing the conversation with my wife (who was hearing my half, and most of the other half of the discussion), we realized: similar accusations had ruined others.

And still the threat didn’t concern me. I’ve given significant thought to my reasons why. Here’s what I concluded.

First, I believe that my confidence has nothing to do with being “above reproach.” I am very aware of my fallibility. I could recount many clever and creative ways in which the enemy of our souls seeks and succeeds in tripping me with temptations of both the unexpected and obvious types. I cannot claim that any accusation could be said to be impossible. I could make any number of serious errors, some of which could be devastating to my ministry, my family, and my own walk with Christ. And yet, were that to happen, or if false accusations were made and believed—this is my second conclusion—I believe strongly that they could never ruin me.

"Here I come to save the day?"

On what do I base such an audacious claim? Simply this: I am already ruined. The life I once lived so freely in the flesh is the subject of relentless demolition. It stubbornly resists being razed, but my intent is to have the site as cleared and leveled as possible by the time Christ is done with me. The point of my claim to be “your servant for Jesus’ sake” (II Corinthians 4:5) is to acknowledge that God’s resources and others’ needs require only that I locate myself in the gap between the two. Whatever I may have to offer is only what I have myself received from God. The rest, although not yet perfectly so, I intend to leave in ruins.

What are my hopes in return for these efforts to provide a vacant lot for Jesus’ construction project? Ironically, I find Jesus promising me something that is already relatively in ruins and only becomes more so each day.

Jesus says, “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” A friend and colleague recently asked, can you be “meek” without being “weak?”[1] Of course you can. In fact, the very nature of being meek involves a conscious decision to refrain from using one’s natural strength, whether physical, emotional, mental, socio-economic, or even spiritual.

Beware of men in mice's clothing.

Who brings about this restraint? Is it externally enforced? Or is it a self-initiated exercise of personal power to limit or eliminate the use of one’s personal power? Ancient Greek texts use the word “meek” in reference to powerful animals brought under control by a bridle or yoke, but even there the emphasis is on soothing or calming “those that are irritated or excited.”[2] Biblically, the term is used in both testaments to reference those who fulfill a subsidiary role in a household or other relationship—those who know where they fit into the plan and purpose of the whole. Whether as a disciple under a rabbi, or in more modern contexts as a team member under a coach, the sense is of one who understands their place among others, without “being overly impressed by a sense of one’s self-importance.”[3]

I believe that I am privileged to serve a God who is seeking to accomplish His purposes. That He chooses to do so through fallible human beings still amazes me. In fact, I find it a ludicrously inadequate approach to doing business. But that’s all the more reason to tear down the façade, the framework, and the very foundation of anything, or anyone—even myself—that threatens to stand in the way of what God is seeking to do.

---

[1] This is the subject of a recent post by Paul Louis Metzger. You can find it here.

[2] Kittel, prauV

[3] BDAG, prauV

Dear George Will – Let’s Get Real about “Real Rape” and Its Prevalence on Campus

I didn’t leave the factory without the math chip being installed. But, frankly, I have not found it as necessary in serving the needs of the persons and communities around me until just now.

George Will, in his June 6 column for the Washington Post’s website (you’ll find it here: http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/george-will-college-become-the-victims-of-progressivism/2014/06/06/e90e73b4-eb50-11e3-9f5c-9075d5508f0a_story.html), draws the ire of many in the sexual assault victims’ advocacy community by using sexual assault statistics as a means for condemning the federal government’s continuing intrusion into all matters public and private alike. He’s free to confront expansive government all he wants. But I do object to his misguided and inaccurate marginalization of those who are being objectified, exploited, oppressed, and destroyed by the continued pattern of sexual violence on American college campuses.

He suggests that what he perceives to be over-reporting of sexual assault (i.e., “We’re just making this up,” is what I understand him to claim.) is a result of the fact that rape victims enjoy “a coveted status that confers privileges” with the result that “victims proliferate.” Well, I would agree that victims continue to proliferate. But it is because of marginalization and shaming like that in his op-ed piece more so than it is by throngs of young women eagerly seeking to “join the club” by experiencing sexual assault.

If George Will is right about the statistics (which would depend upon the definitions used by those collecting the statistics—specifically, he mentions the Ohio State University officials to whom just 98 “sexual assaults” were reported “in the years 2009 to 2012”), then we should accept his assertion that the claim is spurious that “one in five women is sexually assaulted while in college.” But only if his math checks out (and only if he isn’t playing sleight-of-hand by conflating “real rape” and “sexual assault” statistics and, since he doesn’t footnote as an "opinion writer," it’s impossible to tell).

His calculations: 98 assaults reported, taken to be 12% of the assaults which actually occurred. Thus, 817 assaults total among a population of 28,000. He gets that as 2.9% rather than 20% of the population. Now, in any “averaging,” anomalies abound. It could be that Ohio State is so far outside the norm as to be roughly 85% safer than most other college campuses. It could also be that there are some missing statistics in Will’s calculations.

For one thing, can we count to four? No. We’ve been out of school too long, apparently. Statistics from Ohio Statue University for the “academic years 2009-2012” (2009-10, 2010-11, 2011-12 – for a total of 3 years) is not the same as “for the calendar years 2009-2012” (4). Multiply the statistics for the three selected years (which are, remember, suspiciously low) by 33%. Still, we’re now only talking about 130 assaults, instead of the 98 that Will represents in those “four” years in which, "some claim," there are one-in-five college women assaulted.

On this next matter, though, I have to admit to moving beyond the statistics available. I don’t know if every sexual assault counts in the eyes of Ohio State University officials. But knowing the anecdotal evidence from campus safety officers elsewhere and the vast difference between those and the “officially reported” statistics that show zero reports in categories for which there were definitely incidents on a particular campus, I believe I can be allowed to make the assumption below.

So, consider that there are multiple categories of sexual assault that do not involve the physical penetration of a penis into a vagina. What percentage do we assign to “real rape” as opposed to these other categories? To use an illustration from my previous post, “The Euphemisms of Sexual Assault,” being subjected to an “inappropriate touch” by someone who had become “overzealous” would be unlikely to generate a police report in the campus office that must also share those statistics with potential students and their parents. Is the physical act of penetration completed in 50% of all assaults? Hardly. Is it as much as a quarter of the time? Not according to the counselees who’ve shared their stories with me.

For the sake of the math, let’s assume that the rate of “real rape” is as high as 20% of all sexual assaults committed, only against women, and we'll also limit ourselves to the four year period Will alludes to (though we’ll actually count to four, not three). If we’re right about the assumptions we’re forced to make by Will’s nebulous terminology, then there would be 130 rapes reported. If that figure represents, as he notes, 12% of the rapes which actually occurred, then instead of 817, we’re looking at 1086. Using our highly subjective evaluation that as many as one-fifth of sexual assaults involve “real rape,” then every four years at Ohio State University, on average, a total of 5430 women students should expect to be sexually assaulted.

Will does get one statistic right. Ohio State’s website shows a total enrollment on their Columbus campus of 57,466, with a male/female ratio of 50/50. So, of the 28,000 women about whom he writes: only 19.4% will be victims of sexual assault, not 20%. At least not at Ohio State University during the years that Will selected for his calculations.

Thank you, George. We stand corrected. But we're still not going to run out and try to join the privileged class of rape victims. Far too many of us are already there.