We Don’t Need More Money; We Need Wisdom

 

Stanley Johnson was a lot like many of us. A character in a classic Lending Tree television commercial, Stanley flashed a self-satisfied smile as he showed us his four-bedroom home in a great neighborhood, his swimming pool, and his new car. He beamed with pride as he told us he was a member of the local golf club. Turning steaks on the grill, he asked, “How do I do it?” Still smiling, he confided, “I’m in debt up to my eyeballs. I can barely pay my finance charges.” Then, looking directly into the camera, he pleaded, “Somebody help me.”

We may not be in as much of a financial mess as Stanley was, but most of us some of the time, and some of us most of the time, need help in managing our money. How we earn it, save it, spend it, and give it is a persistent challenge for every follower of Christ.

Stanley Johnson’s commercial was for a lending company, but Stanley didn’t really need more money. What he needed was wisdom. When it comes to dealing with money, that’s what all of us need. The good news is that that wisdom can be found in Scripture and in the Wesleyan tradition.

Information about how to manage our money is easy to find. It is readily available from a multitude of sources, some of which are more helpful and trustworthy than others. Advice about everything from taxes to long-term investments can be acquired in online programs and from financial planners. Stockbrokers, mortgage brokers, and investment bankers are eagerly awaiting our calls. Lawyers and estate planners are standing in line to help us write our wills and plan our legacy. The information we gain from them is a necessary tool for living responsibly with our resources.

As a pastor, I’ve seen ample evidence of the need for information about finances.

  • I’m concerned about young adults who become the prisoners of credit card debt. Listening to their stories has convinced me that credit card debt is nothing less than the demonic power of institutionalized greed taking control of their lives.
  • I’ve counseled with couples who bring nearly insurmountable levels of debt into their marriages because they never learned how to design a budget or balance a checkbook.
  • I’ve watched seminary graduates enter the pastorate—not usually considered a high-income career—with educational loans that will be a long-term burden on their ministries and families.
  • I’m surprised by the number of colleagues who retire without adequate planning for financial stability.
  • I’m curious about faithful church members who have never prepared a will or an estate plan.

All these concerns and others like them challenge us to use the best information we can about the most effective ways to manage our money.

But for followers of Christ, the issue digs deeper and reaches further than simply gathering information. The Bible teaches that how we relate to our money goes to the heart of our relationship with God.

I sometimes wish Jesus hadn’t said, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21). I’d be more comfortable if he had said, “Where your heart is, there your treasure will be also.” But he said what he meant and he meant what he said. Our attitudes toward money and the priority we place on our possessions are matters of the heart; they go to the core of our identity. Because of the soul-level importance of our relationship with money, we need more than information. We need wisdom.

The Hebrew word for wisdom appears 318 times in the Old Testament with over half of these in Proverbs, Job, and Ecclesiastes. The sages of ancient Israel knew that wisdom is more than the accumulation of information or knowledge, as important as that knowledge is. They understood wisdom to be a gift of God that enables us to know what to do with the knowledge we gather, so we can live faithfully and well in our relationships with God and each other.

Our culture has conditioned us to believe that human beings are the source of knowledge and that wisdom comes from the accumulation of information, in much the same way that wealth comes from the accumulation of money and property. As a result, we assume that the more we know, the wiser we are; but the Hebrew sages believed that wisdom does not begin with us. It doesn’t grow out of our human capacity for learning or our ability to gather information. They were convinced that true wisdom is not something we make up on our own; it is a unique gift growing out of our relationship with God. This is not to suggest that biblical wisdom is contrary to empirical or academic knowledge, or that the Bible contains answers to questions that are better addressed by science. The wisdom that guides us into personal and spiritual maturity is not of our own making. It goes beyond the accumulation of knowledge and instead guides us to use that knowledge in ways that are just, good, and in harmony with God’s life-giving purpose.

Jesus pointed his disciples in that direction when he said, “Desire first and foremost God’s kingdom and God’s righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well” (Matthew 6:33). There is wisdom that is only gained through an experience of fear; not neurotic, self-absorbed, irrational fear, but fear that acknowledges the magnitude of the issues we face. It’s fear that stands in awestricken amazement before that which is beyond our power to manage, explain, or control. It’s the kind of fear that leads us to humility.

Humility undermines our self-assured arrogance and pride. It challenges the assumption that the answers to all our questions are within ourselves. It requires an openness to discover something we would not otherwise comprehend. Fear of the Lord is the starting point, because it calls for humble trust in the God who is the source of wisdom and the giver of every good gift (Proverbs 2:6; James 1:17).

The Bible does have positive things to say about the results of wise living that are just as true today as when the Proverbs were written.

  • It’s wise to use our talents and the opportunities that come our way to earn an honest income. It’s foolish to bury our talents and never find productive ways to use them. (Matthew 25:26-30)
  • It’s wise to use our money well by living within our means. It’s foolish to be like the prodigal son who “wasted his wealth through extravagant living.” (Luke 15:13)
  • It’s wise to manage our money in order to become debt-free. It’s foolish to be consumed by unnecessary and unmanageable debt. (Proverbs 11:15)

Wise living may not ensure that we will be rich, but it always leads to a healthy, prosperous, abundant life. Biblical wisdom on the use of money is centered in helping faithful people order their financial lives around their commitment to Christ so that they can live well in every area of their lives.

 

Adapted from Earn. Save. Give. Wesley’s Simple Rules for Money by James A. Harnish, copyright © 2015 Abingdon Press. All rights reserved.

Putting a Face on Giving

Have you ever met a local television news anchor at a community event? When people have personal contact with a local media “star,” they typically make a point to tune in now that they feel a kind of connection however brief it might have been. Station management knows that personal contact can change viewing habits and therefore ratings.  Which makes you wonder how stewardship campaigns would be affected if church members connected—even briefly—with the people who directly benefited from their pledges?

Giving a face and a name to the needs of the church and community makes pledging personal; and when it gets personal, you’ve got their attention. Hearing about all the good things your church does is one thing; looking into the grateful eyes of someone with whom your pledge has made a difference, that’s another thing entirely.

 

About Face Pledge Cards

Create a template of a pledge card that includes a pledge form, room for a photo, and a brief statement. Take pictures of people in classes, in daycare, during service projects . . . everywhere you see people who benefit from a church project or service. And don’t be afraid to take close-ups; you want your photos to be of faces. Print and cut them out, then paste them onto (or into, if you’re computer-savvy) your pledge card template. Hang them on an artificial tree, a bulletin board, or even from the ceiling grid and let the pastor invite the congregation to choose a card. Personalize each card? You bet. This is all about personalization.

 

Example:

This is David. He is one of twenty-three homeless men who spent the night in our Fellowship Hall last month. The church not only provided the men with a warm/cool, safe place to stay, but we also served them a nice, filling meal.  Take this pledge card to honor David, and know that your contribution goes to support programs like Room in the Inn.

 

Template:

This is [first name]. [He/She] is a [single mother? four-year-old? recovering addict? what was the need?] who [took a parenting class? attended VBS? uses our counseling program . . .  what service was provided to help fulfill that need?]. Take this pledge card to honor [first name] and know that your contribution goes to support programs like [name of program.]

 

Face-to-Face with Pastor

At most churches people line up to shake hands and say a word or two to the pastor after the worship service. Take advantage of that with this idea: Select people who have benefitted from church programs and have them form a reception line just outside the sanctuary. Prompt them to thank people as they pass by for what the church has done to help them, but also ask a volunteer or staff member to “host” each person in case they need a little help. Have pledge cards available at the end of the line just before they see the pastor who is—again—at the end of the line.

 

Example for Those Helped:

My name is David. Nice to meet you. I sure appreciate the church letting me stay the night here during that cold snap last month. Without Room in the Inn, I don’t know what some of us would do. Thanks again.

 

Example for Host:

Hey, I want you to meet David. You know how the church supports Room in the Inn? Well, David is one of the men we were so happy to have stay with us one night last month, when it was so cold. We hope you’ll make a pledge to the church again this year to help us continue to fund these important programs.

 

Face It

This idea also centers on taking photos of those who benefit from the church’s programs, but would showcase the photos in a formal art show setting. Enlarge and/or frame as many photos as possible and display them on easels and movable screens. Post information next to each piece of art that describes the subject. Make the art show a big deal; invite the media, ask “patrons” to vote on their favorite, serve punch and light hors d’oeuvres, offer valet parking—you could even roll out a red carpet and stage a premiere event. All the hoopla serves as an interesting way to get the congregation to pay attention to the faces of those in need.

 

Important: Don’t Lose Face

Before adapting any of these ideas, you need to run them by your church’s legal counsel. While using photos of those who are involved in your programs may seem to be “implied consent,” it can get a lot more complicated than that.

“Churches would want to get approval from the person to use their information and image,” says Alisa Graner Napier, a music and media licensing professional in Nashville, Tenn. “The person would need to know what the pledge card is being used for, where, when, etc., and approve it in writing with their signature, date and, if possible, their address and phone number.”

Although not an attorney, Graner Napier has been in the industry for twenty years and says typically an organization, with their attorney’s assistance, creates a release form to use in situations like this. She suggests that before going to print, show those whose photos you plan to use what the stewardship materials will look like to avoid later confusion.

“Churches could create a mockup of the pledge card showing where the photo and information would go so the person could see how exactly it is being used. Also, for their church files, they should keep a copy of the pledge cards attached to the individuals’ releases so they don’t get mixed up.”

So, take these ideas and make them your own. Find ways to make use of social media. Make it intergenerational. Or let them inspire you to think of a new way to show your congregation that they can no longer take your pledge campaign at face value.

 

Judy Bumgarner is a freelance writer in Nashville, Tennessee.

Defying Financial Gravity

I have several friends whose parents are leaving homes where they have lived for decades, moving into smaller places that require less upkeep. That process requires people to figure out what possessions they are going to hold onto and what they want to release to family members who might enjoy them. When distances between relatives make it difficult to distribute possessions, companies are hired to sell these goods or just take them to charitable organizations or the town landfill. There is nothing like paying someone to cart off things you once paid someone else to put in your home to make you think about transient nature of possessions. Working through this process leads many to take a vow of austerity.

One of the most important pieces of wisdom a Christian can learn is the difference between a need and a want. We all have needs. Jesus kept it lean and simple. He had no home and few possessions. But Jesus did have friends with houses, knew fishermen who owned boats, people who raised children and those who lived in a community where they put down roots.  But he was still clear that a life of simplicity was preferable to a life of complexity. He warned his followers about the way money and possessions could begin to rule their lives. As one who came as Lord, he knew how easy it was to find an alternative master in wealth and the pursuit of more.

I think the insight Jesus brings that is most helpful is that many of us, after honoring the basic needs of life, tend to want more. Most of us want more of everything, whether for security, pleasure or anticipated fulfillment. The list of wants is never short. I have found that the desire for more is a gravitational pull in my life. The longer the list, the more financial gravity exerts its pull until we are bogged down by financial worries and more stuff than we ever imagined.

Last fall, we issued a series of challenges at our church. The goal was to offer a congregation-wide experience where people could see how much gravity possessions and money had on their life. There were three parts:

  • The Clean Out Challenge: Clean out a drawer, closet or room of your home and bring the stuff to the church parking lot on a designated Saturday. We had an electronics recycler, an industrial paper shredder, two charitable organizations, and one truck headed to the landfill. It was fascinating the see the joy people had as they dropped stuff off. One woman threw her hands up in the air, shouted “woo-hoo” and did a happy dance. Married couples exchanged high-fives. At one point I thought a revival was going to break out. I think many felt more joy in getting rid of their things than they ever did when they initially purchased them.
  • Budget Challenge: Figure out how much you spend a month on key budget categories and how much you should spend to keep a balanced budget. Giving was the first category to consider. We all need to look at what percentage of our income is invested in generosity. Most Americans give less than 2% to any charitable institution. Many are not ready for retirement years when they will no longer be able to work. I am convinced the reason is that both require a plan that most never create.
  • Estimate of Giving Card: Write down the amount you plan to give in the coming year and submit it to the church. Many churches no longer ask people to make a commitment to give. I think it helps people to write down or electronically enter an amount they hope to give to the church. People will only do this when inspired by their faith in Christ and the ministry of their church. When people want to invest in God’s Kingdom more than they want the stuff that makes them feel like royalty for a short time, generosity is easy. I encourage people to follow the biblical standard of the tithe. No spiritual practice enables you to embrace Jesus’ call to simplicity and his desire to seek first the Kingdom of God like tithing. It is the way I learned the difference between a need and a want. It is how I learned to trust that God would see our family through lean seasons. I believe that God wants us to bless others continually rather than leave a few residual dollars in our will after the last bill was paid.

If you want to help people change and fully embrace the Christian life, your church will have to talk about money, possessions, and generosity. These issues are a part of our everyday life. We make dozens of financial decisions every week, each with a cumulative impact on our life and identity. If you can teach people to defy gravity and overcome the culture of more, they will discover how Christ truly sets us free. ‘’

 

Rev. Tom Berlin is Senior Pastor of Floris United Methodist Church (Herndon, Virginia). and A graduate of Virginia Tech and Candler School of Theology at Emory University, he has authored many books and studies; his latest, Defying Gravity: Break Free from the Culture of More, released in May 2016. 

What to Do if Your Church Is a Hub for Pokémon Go

Are a bunch of strangers suddenly wandering around your church parking lot and staring at their phones? Congratulations! Your church is probably one of the many PokéStops or Gyms in the new Pokémon Go app. Here are three major ways your church can join in on the excitement and interact with these new visitors.

 

Welcome Players

Put that church sign to use and let people know they can stop by.

https://twitter.com/ChrisMartin17/status/752600425568804864

Let people on social media know that gamers are welcome.

https://twitter.com/BrendaGWarren/status/752848892828319744

https://twitter.com/Crossway_Church/status/752740293313597440

Pokémon Go is a major battery drainer. Offer a place for people to charge their phones!

This app encourages a lot of walking. During these summer months, players will really appreciate you setting out some water for them!

https://twitter.com/adriennekvello/status/752874827946393600

 

Create Conversations

Learn the game! Your church steps and parking lots will be filled with kids and adults who will probably be excited to talk about their new hobby. Ask questions, get tips, and start playing yourself.

If your church is a gym, try to figure out who is your gym leader. They’ll probably be stopping by often to maintain their title.

Meet people and create community. This app is causing relationships to be developed. Go out there and build new connections!

https://twitter.com/KimJongTsun/status/752664608821899264

 

Spread Information

With your newfound popularity, now is a great time to let people know about your church and what you offer. Make signs or share cards!

 

Have fun welcoming in this new Pokémon Go community to your church family!

Sandra Amstutz is the Social Media & Digital Content Specialist at Cokesbury.

It’s Time for the End to Our Prayers

The human mind can’t process all this news. We feel dazed. A knot in the stomach. A kind of dark cloud has settled over the country. Orlando. Alton Sterling. Dallas. Philando Castile. Who’s next? and Where?

I wish I had a nickel for every time somebody has said about these horrors, “Our thoughts and prayers go out…” I’m a pastor; obviously I’m an advocate of praying. But I’ve tried to get inside God’s head and heart, and I wonder what God makes of our “thoughts and prayers.” God is grieving, to be sure. But I wonder if God wonders what we are looking for. Back in Bible times, the people were praying during national calamities. God’s response? “These people draw near to me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (Isaiah 29:13). The people gathered for special worship services and sang hymns — prompting God to say “I hate your festivals and take no delight in your assemblies. Take away from me the noise of your songs” (Amos 5:20). And why? If God didn’t want songs and prayers what did God want? The very next verse in Amos explains it all: “But let justice roll down like waters, righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”

I can’t know how God feels about our “thoughts and prayers.” But I am positive God would be far more pleased if we would open our eyes, lift up our heads, get up off our knees, and go and do something. How pointless is it to continue to shudder over the news, and then ask God for comfort, when we aren’t doing anything to alter the conditions under which these killings continue to happen?

Why do these things happen? It’s no one thing. It’s a lot of things. But we get derailed, because somebody somewhere always has some vested interest in one of the things, so each one gets shot down (literally) and nothing changes. It is the whole toxic mess of woes that bedevils us. No one I know is optimistic things will change. But somewhere inside each of us, and in our collective national psyche, aren’t we “prisoners of hope” (Zechariah 9:12)? And what is hope anyhow? Not a naïve assumption things will just perk up tomorrow, or the more naïve assumption that our prayers will cause God to do a little razzle-dazzle magic and fix things for us. St. Augustine said that “Hope has two beautiful daughters. Anger at the way things are, and Courage to see to it that they don’t remain the way they are.”

We prisoners of hope have to end our prayers, or find what the end of our prayers ought to be, which is deciding with great courage to do something. Something is profoundly wrong with regard to race in America. We can toss blame back and forth. But when will we engage in the long labor of listening, building trust, and insisting on equal treatment before the law? Something is terribly wrong about guns. Oh, the rights people leap forward and warn us society would crumble without even more guns! But what we’re doing now most clearly isn’t working.

Something is flat out crazy about the entertainment industry and our addiction to it. We are appalled by violence in the streets — but we clearly have a taste for it, since we flock in to movies and stare dumbly at TV shows where the shooting is constant.

Something is insanely wicked about government. Gridlock is too nice a term for what we’re saddled with. Laws and policies need changing, but one side is hell-bent on destroying any good idea the other side might happen to have. Something is embarrassingly woeful about our political process. We vote for the loudest, most shrill people who feed our fears and prejudices. Isn’t it conceivable that we might say Amen after our prayers and seek out leaders who are wise and good, who appeal to the best in us?

Something is out of kilter economically. Equal opportunity is a vain notion. White privilege is real, although whites can’t see it. Society is arranged for the benefit of white people. If you’re white and want to rise up and stomp on me for saying this, fine — but our denial of white privilege isn’t getting anybody anywhere. What if, for a change, we actually listened to people who aren’t white and gave them at least a little benefit of the doubt? And something is way out of sync with our education system. Educational equity is a pipe dream right now. We have settled for unequal education, and then we are surprised by the long-term results.

Something is killing us from the inside — and that is fear. Terrorists around the world try to induce fear. But we are clustering around fear ourselves quite well without their help. News media and pundits and politicians and just everybody fan the flames of fear. And there is a lot to be afraid of. But is it possible to stand up to our fears, to expose them and find ways to build a world that knows higher pursuits than security? Can we figure out that more and more force never resolves fear but only raises the stakes?

I could go on and on. Something is really wrong in America. Everything I have named is real. Each one is something that mortifies God. Pray if you wish — but God wants us to find the end to our praying and do something. With each one, something really can be done, and in a decade or two we really could have a safer society that would be more pleasing to the God we pray to for help. We can turn off any TV show where a gun is fired. We can resource our schools more equitably. We can elect different people. We could pass some gun law, any gun law, if only to make a statement. We could connect with people who are different instead of judging them. We could enthusiastically support our police and rebuild trust with them — but only if we also are willing to hold the small minority of them who exceed their authority accountable.

We can be different. We can be the people God uses to be the answer to our own prayers. That is, if we come to the end of our prayers, and do courageous things. The other night I heard Carrie Newcomer sing the most timely song I’ve ever heard: “If not now, tell me when?


Originally published on MinistryMatters.com

Dr. James C. Howell has been senior pastor of Myers Park United Methodist Church since 2003, and has served churches in the Charlotte area for 25 years. He is a graduate of the University of South Carolina and Duke Divinity School, and has a Ph.D. from Duke. He has published 15 books, the most recent being Why This Jubilee: Advent Reflections on Songs of the Season. He serves on numerous nonprofit boards in the community, speaks frequently in Charlotte and around the country, and is an adjunct professor of preaching at Duke Divinity School.

Preaching to Confront Racism

Moralism (substituting law for gospel, exhorting better human behavior without dependency upon God’s grace) is no match for racism. While urging us to preach justice, Lutheran James Childs warns: “Preaching that always goes directly from sin to salvation or from cross to resurrection without ever stopping off at sanctification is missing something of crucial importance…. The grace of God in Christ, which justifies, also sanctifies … The good tree bears good fruit … (Matt. 7:18).” (Childs, Preaching Justice, 2000). I thank God that I am a Wesleyan Christian who, after admitting that I’m guilty of the sin of racism can say that’s not all I am. I’m someone in whom the grace of God is actively, daily, persistently at work healing me of my sin, perfecting God’s intentions for me, in spite of me.

Moralism is unavoidable if a preacher conceives of the congregation as good people who come to church to be even better. The Christian faith is presented as common sense with a spiritual veneer. Moralism is notoriously anthropological rather than theological in its assumption that listeners already have all they need in order to be good. History, structural injustices, the human propensity to self-interest, the various psychological binds in which we are caught, human feelings of vulnerability and threat are all ignored in moralism’s appeal to our “better angels.” The sermon is in the imperative mood as the preacher fills the air with should, ought, must.

As Chuck Campbell points out, preaching on social issues tends to imply that good people of good will have the power to solve their own problems (a thought dearly loved by liberal white people who enjoy thinking of ourselves as the masters of our domain). Moralistic preaching overlooks how structural, systemic, principalities and powers have us under their sway. Campbell urges us, “always rely on the power of God, not on our own strength, in resistance.” (Campbell, The Word Before the Powers, 2003).

Sermons whose intent is to build guilt are universally resisted. Not only does Jesus tend toward forgiveness rather than guilt but also preaching that provokes guilt backfires as hearers are encouraged to become more introspective, more obsessed with ourselves and our histories, more egotistical, not less. White people ascribed far too much power to our egos and are already narcissistic without help from the preacher. The default Christian position with regard to guilt is to confess sin, offer it up and then allow ourselves to be unburdened by the justifying grace of God and to be spurred on by sanctifying grace in our acts of contrition.

Conservative, Reformed pastor, John Piper’s sermon, “Racial Reconciliation” begins by asserting (without citing support) that, “There is strong evidence that stressing differences does little to improve race relations, and may even exacerbate them.” The rest of his sermon attacks the notion of racial difference. Using Scripture, Piper asserts that, “God made all ethnic groups from one human ancestor,” and that all “are made in the image of God.” Your “ethnic identity” is of no consequence when compared with the biblical truth that we are all created “in the image of God.” That’s why programs in “diversity training” “backfire.” We ought to teach our children to put all their “eggs in the basket called personhood in the image of God and one egg in the basket called ethnic distinction.” The problem is not the sin of white racism, the problem is a failure to think about our humanity in a biblical way. Though Piper is a strong Calvinist, there is nothing in the sermon about confession of sin, forgiveness, repentance or the need for the grace of God.

While it’s good that Piper attempts to think theologically beyond rather limp, secular notions of “diversity,” Piper’s exhortation to color-blind Christianity overlooks that persons of color did not come up with the idea that skin color was a valid way of defining humanity in order to oppress nonwhites — that nefarious idea came exclusively from white people. Piper, perhaps unintentionally, bolsters white evasion of engagement in issues of systemic racial injustice when he ends his sermon with a stirring call to “banish every belittling and unloving thought from our minds,” “to show personal, affectionate oneness” with Christians of all ethnic backgrounds, and to be “salt and light” “with courageous acts of inter-racial kindness and respect.”

We don’t need “diversity training” because racial reconciliation is a personal matter of individual piety in thoughts, speech and kindness, according to Piper’s sermon. We wouldn’t have racism if Christians refused to acknowledge the reality of race. This is the call for “reconciliation” white folks love to hear.

“Reconciliation” too often focuses, as in Piper’s sermon, upon interpersonal reconciliation without focus on systemic and structural justice. Many black people push back against the call for “reconciliation” because it presumes there was a time when we were in a right relationship. It also implies that we work toward reconciliation from an equal footing. “Hospitality” also implies that we, the powerful, are the hosts; the less powerful are the guests, outsiders whom we graciously welcome. Talk of reconciliation without recognition of power arrangements degenerates into sentimentality. (see Jennifer Harvey, Dear White Christians, 2014). And speaking of my church family, sentimental accounts of human nature, racial harmony and Christian ethics is killing us. Recently a United Methodist told me that her preacher had preached a sermon on racism.

“What did you learn from the sermon?” I asked.

“That we ought to be nice to black people,” she responded. Far from being confrontation with the sin of racism, sentimental narrations of racism and sentimental appeals for white people to be nice are a primary means of avoiding conversations about race among United Methodists.

A white male (Paul Tillich), preaching to white males, preached a famous sermon: “You are Accepted,” (Tillich, The Shaking of the Foundations, 1963) as if unconditional acceptance were the core of the Good News. That I am graced, loved, and accepted by God, just as I am, racism and all, at first sounds charitable. But there is a more sinister side to such cheery, sentimentally blissful ignorance. Preaching is also a call to conversion, transformation, detoxification. The evil we face is more than wrong thinking about ourselves; it’s our captivity to principalities and powers.

Grace, Wesleyan grace, is not a paternal pat on the head; it’s the power of God that enables us to live different lives than the lives we would be condemned to live if we had not been met by God in Jesus Christ.

As Luther said, apples do not come from a thorn bush. Good deeds arise from good people. At our best, we preach to defeat racism every Sunday because every Sunday’s sermon contributes to the character of Christians. That’s why some of our best preaching against racism will not seem to the congregation a direct attack on racism. Preaching’s value is often in the subtle but powerful ways it forms us into people who have empathy for others, who assume responsibility for the needs of strangers, who feel that they are under judgment from some higher criterion than their own conscience, and who believe that, with the Holy Spirit set loose among us, who believe that we can be born again.

Before consideration of the obviously ethical “What ought we to do?” preaching considers the theologically determinative and ethically formative, “Who is God?”, “What doth the Lord require?” Human action is responsive reaction to God’s initiatives. Our discipleship is our human affirmation of how God is already busy in the world. It’s not for us to defeat the sin of racism; God in Christ is already doing that. Our chief ethical question is, “Will I join with Christ in his world-changing, world-ending, resurrection-work or not?”

Chuck Campbell, speaks of preaching in the face of powers like racism as “exorcism”:

Don’t many folks — preachers included — long to be set free from the powers of death that have us in their grip and won’t let us go — powers from which we cannot seem to free ourselves no matter how hard we try? After all, this is the key characteristic of demon possession: We are no longer agents of our own lives, but go through the deadly motions dictated to us by the powers of the world that hold us captive — that “possess” us. And we need a word from beyond ourselves to set us free from our captivity. (Campbell, “Resisting the Powers” in Purposes of Preaching, 2004).

The challenge is for us to move beyond being non-racist to being actively anti-racist, always remembering that,

We aren’t fighting against human enemies but against rulers, authorities, forces of cosmic darkness, and spiritual powers of evil in the heavens. Therefore, pick up the full armor of God so that you can stand your ground on the evil day and after you have done everything possible to still stand. (Ephesians 6:12-13)

That’s why it’s not enough for us to share our personal story or to exhort the congregation to greater striving for justice. “We don’t preach about ourselves. Instead, we preach about Jesus Christ as Lord…” (2 Corinthians 4:5). In Campbell’s words, “We need a word beyond ourselves to set us free,” Jesus, the Word made flesh, God’s word in action.

Excerpted from Who Lynched Willie Earle? Preaching to Confront Racism (forthcoming from Abingdon Press, February 2017)


William H. Willimon is Professor of the Practice of Christian Ministry at the Divinity School, Duke University. He is recently retired after serving eight years as Bishop of the North Alabama Conference of The United Methodist Church. Bishop Willimon is the author of Fear of the Other from Abingdon Press, and Pulpit Resource, a homiletical weekly published in partnership with Abingdon Press and Ministry Matters.

What to Say, What to Do

I am a pastor, in New York City with my wife, on a few days of summer leave. Over a 24-hour period my phone, social media channels and email blew up. Your attention was arrested too. My colleagues and clergy friends are frustrated and fearful. We want to talk, and then preach, but many of us don’t know what to say. Here’s some of what I’ve been hearing:

“I feel helpless and lost in all this, like I’m far removed, but I don’t want to be.”
“I want to be part of making change, not to just sit idle. ”
“As a white pastor, what are my boundaries? What is off limits and what is not?”
“At what point do we take a risk?”
“How do we know if our ‘constructive conversations’ are helpful, or just more noise?”
“I serve a small church in a rural, white community. I’m feeling called to do something here, but I need guidance to know where to start.”
“I’m concerned about the reality of fear and mistrust that my students are growing up into.” (from a youth pastor)
“I’m struggling with how to make this real for my people. They shake their heads and feel empathy, but they see no real need for action or change.”

Today my preacher friends are asking, “What can I — should I — tell our people this weekend?” It’s a hard question. And not just for preachers. Truth is, we all have ‘people,’ those in our sphere of influence — neighbors, co-workers, friends, our children. What can we say to them?

Take a look at chapter 4 in the biblical book of Esther. The entire Jewish community was in a perilous place. People feared for their lives. Leaders are in disagreement and disarray. Finally, one leader, Mordecai, tells another, Esther, this is not the time to quibble, be quiet, or quit. “Maybe it was for a moment like this that you came to be part of the royal family” (Esther 4:14 CEB).

Before we consider what to do, it’s helpful to know what not to do.

Don’t quibble. In the biblical story, Esther was going back and forth, not accomplishing anything. In a moment of crisis we realize that we no longer have time for debates, for arguing over slogans, over whose lives matter, over perceived failures in media coverage. We can no longer spend time disputing the fact that racism is in us, and is killing black men, women and children. We can no longer ‘other’ each other to death, over more than just race. We don’t have time to spend critiquing the individual lives and motives of victims or police officers or public officials. We have been “majoring in the minors,” as Martin Luther King Jr. said.

Don’t be quiet. Esther scurried around hoping to silently manipulate an outcome. It doesn’t work. Our prayer vigils and moments of silence have become shallow, easy alternatives to actually using our voices as God calls us to do. We can no longer merely host and organize prayer vigils for reconciling that which we have never experienced. We can’t keep preying on each other and then pray for forgiveness. We can’t pray for God to do what we are unwilling to do ourselves. Quiet is safer, sure. A pastor friend in Nashville told me yesterday, “I’m learning to better engage in conversations about race. I know I will make blunders, but I won’t be quiet any longer.”

Don’t quit. “For a moment like this” translates as now. We can’t sit around in our ashes, thinking the time to act has passed, or not yet arrived. It is not a singular time. It is always, every time. It is life in Christ — not a single event or action but ceaseless, constant, ongoing. Anne Frank said, “How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.” So, the pressure is off! We no longer need to find the right time. It is always now.

It is helpful to know what to do.

Acknowledge that everything is not right, with ourselves first, and then with our systems and our world. Affirm one another’s pain, understanding that it is real, and that the other’s pain is also our own pain. Act in ways that bring healing and hope to those places of pain.

Acknowledge that all is not right, and do it truthfully. Don’t be afraid to say “I don’t know.” The scriptures don’t even do much to explain why. The Bible shows us how to get through life, but it rarely if ever answers why. Be transparent. If you don’t know something for sure, say so. Don’t make things up. Don’t say things that sound good but have nothing behind them.

Affirm that the pain — yours and mine — is real, and that it is connected. There’s a scientific theory that illustrates this idea: quantum entanglement. “At the simplest level, the idea of entanglement is just the idea that two things that are separated in space can still be the same thing,” says NPR Science Reporter Geoff Brumfiel. “You can have an object that exists in two different spaces and is still the same object.” What has newly been discovered is that these particles within objects still remain connected even though they are physically apart — when one particle becomes excited, so does the other. What moves me, moves you. What hurts me, hurts you. What inspires me, inspires you. In affirming another’s pain, we affirm that we are entangled in it. When we become entangled, we are changed.

In order to affirm we must listen, and model listening for our people. Affirm that others’ experiences are real, even if they are unreal to you. Emanuel Cleaver III, a pastor in Kansas City, expresses the conundrum of black parental and pastoral counseling. “If you are a black man and you are stopped by the police,” he says, “here is what you do: Comply with everything they tell you and then pray they don’t shoot you anyway.” This is reality for millions of people. Make space, time and place for listening and affirmation in your community. Pastor Traci Blackmon says “we must hold open a space for grief” for people to process their pain as part of community. I don’t know what that will look like for you, but I believe you can figure it out.

Last night I sat on the pavement with a crowd of protesters in New York. That’s an action, sure. But then what? As a pastor or faith leader, there is more for me (and you) to do. It is “go time.” We are to ACT in ways that bring healing and hope. There is no escaping our responsibility. None of us are exempt, no matter our political bent or church setting or social location. No matter that we feel helpless and lost. Not knowing what to say or do is a shared experience, from pulpit to pew to parking lot. Many pastors are afraid to risk with their congregations; and congregations are afraid to let their pastors be real, let alone be prophetic. When a man asked Jesus to heal his son, he said, “I have faith,” and then “help my lack of faith.” (Mark 9:24 CEB) You can have faith and still wonder why or when. What’s never in question is who. It is clear who needs to help, who will be the source of help and hope. That’s Jesus, through us, by our action.

What to do, exactly?

1. Get out of the micro. Move to the macro. Preach grace. What can you do in your community to get everybody under the canopy of grace? What steps can you take to realign yourself and those in your influence with the fact that grace is real, unmerited, for all, for always?

2. Be relational, move in, get closer to the points of pain. Talk with people you don’t know. Get to know them and their reality. Now is not the time to sit back.

3. Find ways to bind people together, to facilitate quantum entanglement in your community.

4. Examine the civic structures and policies and systems that need to change. Work cooperatively and productively with others to change them.

Examine the structures and policies and systems in your denominational connection that need to change. Work cooperatively and productively with others to change them.

Invite others — your people — to join you in this work.

5. Speak out and work proactively to change gun laws. No more quibbling, no more.

6. Bring light and life. Every day, do things in your personal and public spaces to lift yourself and others up. Enjoy creation. Love life. Make joy. Don’t stay in the heavy. Turn off the TV.

Wherever we are, I pray we are holding up our corners, lifting hurting people to Jesus, lifting the hope of Jesus for others to see. Like the old hymn says, “If I be lifted up I’ll draw all people unto me.”

Originally posted on MinistryMatters.com

F. Willis Johnson is pastor of Wellspring Church, a United Methodist congregation in Ferguson, Missouri.  His forthcoming book and video study, Holding Up Your Corner: Talking About Race in Your Community, will be available from Abingdon Press in December 2016.

Jesus and July 4

 

My mood sours every July 4—because the day set aside to recall the founding of our country is absurdly debased, and also because Jesus gets pinned on to the ugliest versions of patriotism. I just feel ill.

When our extended family is together on July 4, I attempt my annual reading aloud of the Declaration of Independence (something American families did for decades)—and even though my family is on the high end of an appreciation of history and tradition, this elicits impatient groans . . . it appears to me that July 4 is pretty much a day 1. to be off work, 2. to drink much beer (sales set records on this day!), and 3. wave flags and expostulate upon vapid caricatures of what America was actually created for.

The flag? The U.S. flag code stipulates that the flag is not to be worn, should not be draped over a car or truck, or used on any disposable items. Bikinis and beer mugs just don’t seem very respectful to me . . .

Continue reading Jesus and July 4