(Christian friends, the world is watching and what we say & do matters very much. I realize that a lot of these issues are more nuanced that what you see here. I’m not posting this to start debate but to cause us to think about how the world perceives them. And non-Christian friends, I just ask that you not judge Jesus by the actions of his worst followers but by what he said about himself in the Bible.)

Dear Church in America,

You said life matters. And then I watched as you refused to say that Black lives matter.

You said respecting authority matters. And then I watched some of your congregations defy state & county orders so they could keep holding regular church services.

You said you believe in loving others. And then I watched as you refused to wear a mask to protect others from the virus.

You said families are important and belong together. And then I watched you turn a blind eye to families being separated at the border.

You said truth is important. And then I watched you ignore the political administration you support tell lie after lie after lie.

You said human life is valuable. And then I watched you argue that the economy was more important than keeping people from dying.

You said your 2^nd amendment rights are important to protect you from government overreach. And then I watched you ignore federal agents in unmarked vans arresting protestors without cause and teargassing peaceful protestors.

You said you need your guns to protect you. And then I watched you say that you don’t need masks because God will protect you.

You said the world will know you by your love. And then I watched you tear each other apart on social media.

You said the Bible tells you to care for the poor. And then I watched you move into gated communities and rail against affordable housing in your community.

You said all people are made in God’s image. And then I watched you discount and discredit the accounts of injustices expressed by people of color.

You said you are worried about religious persecution. And then I watched as there was no outcry over our government turning away refugees fleeing persecution or the Chinese treatment of the Uyghurs.

You said we should believe you. And then I watched as you shared one discredited and ridiculous conspiracy theory video after another.

You said protecting the vulnerable matters. And then I watched you make excuses when women are abused by the men in your church or the male politicians you support.

You said character in leadership mattered. And then I watched 81% of white evangelicals vote for a man with numerous divorces, sexual assault charges & bankruptcies who bullies and belittles anyone who disagrees with him.

Can’t you see why so many of us are leaving you?

Signed,

A watching world

A lot of passionate opinions flow through my brain on a daily basis, and too often I craft a few sentences while driving or doing dishes that I foolishly believe I will remember later. And then a month passes and I’ve nothing, blog-wise, to show for it. But yesterday I read a letter written by James Dobson about his recent visit to our Southern border, and this time my thoughts are making it to the keyboard. There’s so much surrounding this immigration/separation issue that I’m not going to dwell on now – so much that should be criticized, lamented, and corrected – but near the end of his letter, Dobson asserted something that I just cannot let stand:

“America has been a wonderfully generous and caring country since its founding. That is our Christian nature.”

James Dobson, https://metrovoicenews.com/james-dobson-letter-explains-his-border-investigation/

I’m not arguing that genuine Christian nature doesn’t include generosity and caring for others – those are some of its defining characteristics. What I think is ridiculous to state is that these characteristics accurately describe America’s history. When we try to join the two, like the Alabama car dealership giving away Bibles, flags, and guns to customers for Independence Day, we create a mockery of our faith.

Dobson’s statement follows a carefully crafted lie that white people have told ourselves about America. Our selective memory lulls us in believing that settlers came here for religious freedom, befriended the indigenous people, founded a nation where “all men are created equal”, were briefly led astray by the culture of slavery, ended said slavery, and elected a Black president. Boom. We’re good people. Like all effective lies there are bits of truth there but as we (should) know the actual story is so much uglier. Under the guise of making this country great for a select population, Americans have killed, raped, tortured, exiled, and imprisoned those who were definitely not viewed as an equal creation.

There are so many different directions I could go from here. We could talk about how Christians then and now have founded hospitals and aid organizations, given millions of dollars and hours to help those in need, and fought for an end to slavery and oppression. We could mourn that others randomly choosing verses to support their cause, or never even opening the Bible in their sweaty grasp, have perpetrated or gone along with the state-sponsored evil of our history. We could consider the implications of Muslims and others around the world equating all that goes on in America with Christianity because of foolish statements like the one Dobson made. But here is where I’ll land: There is much good in this country. I am thankful every day that I live here and not in a place like North Korea, and some of my dear friends are pleased to be in America where it is safer than their former homes in Afghanistan. But I can never allow myself to forget that some of the worst atrocities and most heinous acts of terrorism in this country have been perpetrated by people who look like me and at times even claimed the same God. And unless we want that hatred to be confused with the message of the gospel we cannot call America a Christian nation. So Mr. Dobson, in the words of Jesus himself, “you are quite wrong.”*

* Mark 12:27b (We can just call this an example of taking a verse out of context.)

On Tuesday, Alabama passed some of the most restrictive abortion laws in recent history and to put it simply: lots of people have lots of feelings about this. I spent 40+ years of my life completely surrounded by the voices who are cheering the loudest over this decision, and only the last few actually listening to those who are lamenting it. While I know I am not unique, I believe this might give me a little more perspective than those whose Twitter feeds are solidly in one camp or the other. And though I miss the ease of being thoroughly convinced of my position on hot button issues, I am certain that the ability to see and the willingness to listen to both viewpoints is actually the only way we can hope to combat the current divisiveness that is tearing at the fabric of our country. And so these two letters are my humble attempt to speak to both sides and share what I know or have learned about the opposite view.

To my pro-choice friends:

    I hear your anger over this legislation and I agree with many of your frustrations about how this is playing out. I share your disgust that often men are the ones making these decisions and yet can’t seem to realize that no unwanted pregnancy comes about without a man. I am certain though, that there are men on the pro-choice side who want abortion to remain a viable option for their own equally misogynistic reasons. I understand the belief that life starts at birth, but please recognize that those who take the pro-life position believe life begins at conception and as such see abortion as ending a human life. They recoil at the idea that women celebrate this act.

    While it doesn’t seem to be the case with the pro-life position you are most familiar with, I implore you to believe that there are some of us who truly are seeking to value life in all its forms – unborn, children, imprisoned, immigrant, refugee, Black, indigenous, LGBTQ. I am genuinely curious to know what could have been different about the abortion debate if these kind of pro-life people came to you and asked, “What can we do to continue to reduce the overall number of abortions in the US?”* Could we sit down together as human beings, not Democrats or Republicans, and work on ways to bring women out of poverty, aid the ability of women to receive contraceptives, punish sex offenders and rapists to the full extent of the law, and hold men accountable for child support in much more effective ways? Would we then agree that fewer abortions is a worthy goal? Could we agree that pregnant women deserve to at least see ultrasound images and hear all the options before choosing how they will go forward?

    Recently @TuttleSinger asked her the Pro-Life Twitter followers, a bit rhetorically, what they have personally done to support lower income single mothers. The thousands of responses gave testimony to the fact that many who are fighting against abortion really do care about more than just a live birth. They are volunteering, supporting, adopting, and living out their beliefs. And as far as those who are only pro-life when it comes to birth and whose policies are in fact quite anti-life in many other areas – I accept that you will continue to ignore and be angered by them. I am too.

*According to the CDC, from 2006 to 2015 reported abortions from participating areas fell by 24%.

To my pro-life friends:

I hear your excitement over the passage of this legislation. I know many of you care deeply about this issue and rejoice at what you see as the saving of babies’ lives. But I implore you to think about what your pro-life moniker really means. Are you really concerned with all life? Does Black life matter? If you’ve used the racist origins of Margaret Sanger and the higher per capita black abortion statistics as talking points but seethed at Black football players for kneeling at the flag, you’re completely missing the point. How much do you care about the quality of the child’s life after his or her birth? Do you know that many times abortion is a poverty issue – are you willing to see your tax dollars used to help raise single mothers out of poverty or provide affordable child care options? Many of the people supporting restrictive abortion laws reject what they see as restrictive gun laws, and yet school children as few as 6 years from the womb have been murdered by some of the guns they are fiercely defending. In 2017 a pro-life Congressman resigned after it was discovered that he secretly urged his possibly pregnant girlfriend to seek an abortion, and those defending abortion are rightly curious how many of the Alabama legislators might have done the same. Considering all of this, can you see why the pro-choice movement questions our pro-life stance when these hypocrisies are so blatant?

    I know the bottom line to most of you is that abortion stops a beating heart, and I hear you. Life is precious. I would love to imagine a world without abortion. I know many conservative Christians who are full of love and compassion – you give, you volunteer, you adopt, your open your homes. But this isn’t what gets communicated the loudest, and sadly there are many who claim Christ and are sorely lacking in these qualities. I honestly believe that enacting a law this restrictive, with the focus seeming highly skewed towards justice and away from mercy, further destroys the chance to talk reasonably with each other. And so while I am thankful for lives that will be given a chance, I grieve the further distance it puts between us as Americans, and for the ways in which some of those lives may not have much of a chance beyond their birth.

In conclusion…

It is my hope that more of us, no matter which position we claim, are able to understand the other position as well. If your social media feed is one-sided, I urge you to start listening to reasonable voices with an opposing opinion. I guarantee they’re out there. Even better, have a face to face conversation with someone you don’t agree with, intending not to persuade but to listen.

“Too often, we judge other groups by their worst examples, while judging ourselves by our best intentions.”

Former President George W Bush after the Dallas police shooting.

When my son Andy was about 4 years old I took him and his younger sister to a water park. I sent him up the steps and out of sight to the top of a small waterslide while I waited at the bottom. After waiting for what I deemed far too long, I began the mental calculations, certain that as soon as I exited the pool to see what was holding him up he’d slide down and find me gone. Finally I sloshed up the stairs to see him just standing there while others kept passing by on their way to the entrance. He wasn’t scared, just waiting perhaps for someone to invite him to step into the line. The part of me that was feeling impatient and worried wanted to say, “Be more aggressive, kid; don’t let people crowd you; assert your place in line.” But was that really the advice I wanted to give to my sweet young boy? And though I didn’t think this exact thought until much later in life, this world most definitely does not need us to tell our boys, our white boys no less, to be more aggressive & assertive. So I decided to tone it down and let him know it that while it was very kind to let others go, it was definitely okay to take his place in line. And also, hurry up when mom is waiting.

Some may say that my son needed to learn to look out for himself. At its most charitable looking out for yourself, or taking personal responsibility, sounds quite reasonable and even laudable. But if you take that idea to the other extreme, looking out for our own self interests devolves into the idea that our own self is the only one worth looking out for. This leads to a kind of scarcity mentality, the very visceral fear that life is a zero-sum game – if others gain then I lose. I like to think I’ve matured past this way of thinking, but I saw this attitude rear its ugly head a couple of weeks ago during a family vacation to Disneyland. My general desire to show love & kindness to others completely vanished as soon as every other human in the park decided to walk without purpose right in front of me while pushing enormous strollers. I snidely side-eyed anyone who joined their friends in line ahead of me and grumbled loudly about the two people who sat down at the only open 4-seat table. And while admittedly I need to work on my amusement park patience, a much bigger issue is the millions of us who are living our whole regular, non-amusement park lives elbowing out others and spending our days in fear of their success.

I see this scarcity mentality as being very connected to racial disharmony. Many of my fellow white Americans fear that any gains made by people of color translate to direct losses for us. We read that the United States will become a white-minority nation in our lifetimes and for some, that strikes fear. Sadly I remember sharing those feelings as a younger person, bristling over affirmative action and the push for diversity. I had no idea of the lengths our country has gone to ensure that those deemed white come out ahead in every possible arena. I didn’t recognize how un-level the playing field actually was. In more recent years I have repented of my lack of compassion and willful ignorance, and I hope I can lead others come to this same realization.

If we really desire to make this country a great place we should seek the betterment of all its inhabitants, the success of all those who call America home. (And if you know me, you know that my concern spreads far beyond the borders of America. The poorest most disenfranchised person in this country still has more than the poorest of the world.) I don’t believe in the mentality of scarcity, I think there is room for many people to succeed and thrive, but even if it is does cost me something in order to ensure that another person has an opportunity I’m okay with that. The old adage that whoever dies with the most toys wins is garbage. Whoever dies with the most toys is dead and has no use for toys. This kind of blind greed is at the root of all the world’s problems. A diversity of opinions, backgrounds, traditions, ideas, and inspirations can make our country stronger if we’re willing to listen and learn from each other. Recognize and challenge the voices who want to divide (us vs them) or cause us to fear what is different. Let’s agree to stop living with a mentality of scarcity. I am all in, unless we’re getting in line for a roller coaster. Then apparently I still have some work to do.

Earlier this week I read the tragic account of the Ethiopian Airlines plane crash that killed over 157 people. Prior to last year I’m not sure the story would have meant much more to me than just another world tragedy, but since then I’ve flown on that same airline out of the Addis Ababa airport twice, and so as if often goes, the news captured my attention in a much more personal way.

Ten months ago I spent a week in Chad with four other brave souls running a kids’ camp for a group of missionary kids. It was hot, exhausting, and fantastic. Before we left I had looked on the calendar and noticed that we would be visiting the predominantly Muslim country during the month of Ramadan: a month of long, sweltering, triple-digit days. Because our task was to minister to Westerners and we didn’t get to spend much time around the locals, it didn’t really affect us. However it wasn’t lost on me that while our team had practically made a part-time job out of ensuring that we each drank copious amounts of cold, clean water, the most devout Chadians all around us had been refraining from even swallowing their own saliva.

Now, at the end of our week, and as we boarded the first leg of our 2-day journey home, I wondered how some Americans would react to a plane full of men and women covered head to toe in jelebeeyas and burqas. Near the front of the plane one woman had on black gloves to accompany the rest of her black garments, leaving only her eyes narrowly exposed. I wondered what she might look like under there and if she had any idea that her clothing had sparked such conversation around the world. During the past week in Chad I had learned a little from the missionaries about Chadian culture and had struggled clumsily to keep a scarf securely wrapped around my head whenever we were out in public.

Every morning in those precious few moments between awakening and climbing out of bed I had enjoyed the different smells and sounds that accompanied sleeping next to an open window: the smoky remnants of nightly garbage fires, the happy but undecipherable sounds of children walking to school, and the crowing of roosters off in the distance. These all felt much more exotic than the traffic I can hear from my climate-controlled bedroom at home. Every evening in Chad we heard the nightly call to prayer, haunting tones echoing out over the city, and several times we had been caught in the tight throng of rush hour traffic, trapped with thousands of hungry people hurrying home to begin eating their way through the dark hours of the night. As I sat on the plane between my sleeping teammate and an African gentleman dressed all in white, I began to wonder what time the fast ends when you’re flying between multiple time zones. Soon the flight attendants came through with meals for the non-Muslims among us and I ate my mediocre airplane food quickly and with some guilt, knowing that the man next to me, and many others all around, were probably quite hungry.

As I thought about him, it occured to me that we couldn’t be more different. In addition to our genders, we also had no common language, culture, or religion. I had tried to communicate earlier when he got to his seat to say hello, but it had been rather futile. Suddenly several of the men across the aisle began to check their watches. A few of them pointed at their wrists and then tried to wave down the flight attendants. Soon there was much commotion and a handful of men and women began walking through the plane handing out dates from their personal bags and boxes. Even the gloved woman I had noticed earlier was eagerly handing out, to anyone who would take one, the traditional sweet treat which signals the breaking of each day’s fast. As the second round of meals were delivered to those who had skipped the first, I recalled the one phrase I knew that might be useful, “Ramadan Mubarak.” And as I said this with a smile to my seatmate his face signaled a somewhat surprised but pleased recognition. Perhaps this is the reason for what happened next. Or maybe, my neighbor was merely engaging in a transaction: more good deeds equals more favor from Allah. While I won’t ever know his motivation, I was fairly blown away when this man who had been fasting all day insisted on offering me a portion of his meal, despite the fact that he had just watched me consume an identical meal only an hour earlier. To be honest I’m a bit of a germaphobe when it comes to sharing food, rarely eating anything offered from even my kids’ or my husband’s plate, so to take food from a total stranger on a plane would seem quite preposterous, and yet ultimately that’s exactly what I did. It became very clear to me that my infinite refusals would be perceived as rude and so I ate a few extra pieces of airplane chicken, vividly aware that this entire experience was something quite unique. And because I believe moments like this catch our attention for a reason, I listened to find out what I needed to learn.

Over the last several years I have come to have a great love and respect for people of the Muslim faith. And while I hold fast to the conviction that what Jesus said is true- that He alone is the way, the truth, and the life- I believe we can find much in common with people who believe in one God and who deeply desire to be obedient. As I sat there with a stranger’s food in front of me I was never more sure that God’s love extends to all people, and that he desires to channel some of that love through me. I know it sounds like a cliche, but I left the plane that day feeling a bit like the Grinch at the end of the movie, my heart growing to barely fit in my chest. What an amazing God who tells us to love others and then gives us the very love with which to carry it out. Now, when I see a woman in the store with a head scarf I make a point to smile. I relish the relationships I am building with several young mothers from Afghanistan in our weekly English lessons. I go out of my way to let my Muslim neighbors know that I am so glad to have them living next door. And above all, I continue to pray that they would come to understand that it isn’t their diligence, sacrifice, or obedience which will earn their way to God’s presence. Jesus has already paid that price with his life and in his presence we can find rest.

I don’t know about you but I hate finding out I’ve been manipulated. Weirdly though, even though we all probably feel that way, sometimes we are willing participants. We seek out videos of soldiers surprising their families or tune in to a Hallmark movie, tissues in hand. We toss those end cap or eye-level groceries into our carts or buy that expensive eye cream because it made the photoshopped model look so young. And while the anti-Kondo urge to acquire newer and better things wreaks its own kind of havoc, the use of fear as a manipulator is the one that I want to denounce the loudest.

Fear is powerful – it makes us lock our doors at night, leave the restaurant flier under our windshield wiper as we drive away, and lock our doors while pumping gas. Those last two probably only apply to women who read the scare stories on Facebook, but the way that fear specifically affects my gender is a subtopic for another time. And while fear can be a gift (thank you Gavin de Becker) we often ignore the helpful signals and choose instead to focus on the irrational. I know this is nothing new, but it seems to be much more prevalent lately – or maybe I’m just paying better attention. Among the things I’ve been told to fear are caravans of immigrants, Mexican gang members, Muslims, public school indoctrination, transgender attacks in Target bathrooms, and the confiscation of my (non-existent) weapons. Without a doubt there are genuinely scary people in our world, and protecting children from legitimate threats is a parents job, but I wholeheartedly reject being told to live or vote based on my fears.

It is in my understanding of who God is that I find my best reasons to push back against the fear-mongering. To be honest that’s why I get the most frustrated with people of faith who sometimes seem to be so easily swayed by the fear du jour. Christian friends, we place our trust in the God who created the heavens and earth, drove out demons and conquered death. While we were never promised an easy existence we should know that we never face anything alone. The decisions we make about our life and who/what we vote for should not be based on what we’re told to run from. Fear didn’t keep Daniel out of the lion’s den, his friends from the fiery furnace, or Jesus from the cross. And it shouldn’t keep us from welcoming the stranger, visiting the prisoner, or loving our neighbor. In fact when our first priority is love of God and others, we will be less tempted to fall into the trap that the fear-peddlers set out for us. Because when it’s all said and done, I don’t want my life to be centered on what I am afraid of, and (be honest) neither do you.

Wizard: Take this object. But beware it carries a terrible curse.
Homer: Oooh, that’s bad.
Wizard: But it comes with a free frogurt.
Homer: That’s good.
Wizard: The frogurt is also cursed.
Homer: That’s bad.
Wizard: But you get your choice of topping.
Homer: That’s good.
Wizard: The toppings contain potassium benzoate.
Homer: <confused silence>
Wizard: That’s bad.

The Simpsons. Season 4 Episode 5 “Treehouse of Horror: Clown without Pity”

I love this exchange. It so aptly describes the feelings I have when I dig deeper and deeper into a situation or an issue and it becomes decidedly more complicated. If your views tend to be more surface level, or your opinions can be expressed neatly in 288 characters, you probably haven’t experienced much of this Homer Simpson level struggle. But jump in because even if the ride isn’t what I would call fun, it’s oh so important.

While I wasn’t really ever the march-for-a-cause type, most of my firmly held beliefs as a 20 and 30-something could have been written on a poster board with a giant Sharpie. Maybe you can relate? There was no nuance, no deeper understanding of consequence (intended or otherwise), or any sense at all of the very privileged way I experienced life in these United States. And while it’s good to be aware – and I’m thankful for it – there are now all these things that keep my brain spinning, some of which even bring out tears when I get in too deep: what to do about the church and LGBTQ issues, why are women pastors such a divisive issue, how can some people be so passionate about abortion but not about children dying in ICE custody (or vice versa), immigration (just all of it), and why aren’t more Christians willing to repent of racism?

Don’t misunderstand – I’m not living in a state of fear or worry. I have a great deal of faith that ultimately God is in control. But most things aren’t nearly as black and white as I once thought, and now that I know that, it’s a wrestling match in my head as I try to work it out. The math teacher in me likes to find solutions and so I’m going to keep at it. And ideally as I start to find new places to land, I can bring some friends along with me. Maybe we can even stop for a free frogurt on the way!

Every day on our calendar is the “day of” something. Some are silly or trivial, like National Donut Day, and others are more profound. Today, February 20th, is the World Day of Social Justice. I had the privilege recently of speaking to a group of women at a church conference on the topic of social justice, from both Biblical and secular perspectives. While there are some differences in the motivations various groups have for pursuing social justice and differences in the way they carry it out, I must say this: if you’re using your political persuasion or religion to avoid seeking the equitable treatment of others you’re doing it all wrong. Jesus not only taught that we are to love our neighbor – remember the good Samaritan? – but he also told us that when we see those who are hungry, thirsty, sojourners, or imprisoned and don’t do anything for them it’s as if we are neglecting God himself.

“For I was hungry, while you had all you needed. I was thirsty, but you drank bottled water. I was a stranger, and you wanted me deported. I needed clothes, but you needed more clothes. I was sick, and you pointed out the behaviors that led to my sickness. I was in prison, and you said I was getting what I deserved.”

Rich Stearns’ paraphrase of Matthew 25:42-45 from his book, The Hole in Our Gospel

So today, to honor the World Day of Social Justice, look for ways that you can work to promote equal treatment for all of humanity:

• Sponsor a child or donate to World Vision. If you know me, you know how close to my heart this organization and these children are. ​http://bit.ly/sponsorforchange
• Support the work of the Equal Justice Initiative. To see why this organization deserves your support, read Bryan Stevenson’s incredible book Just Mercy. (https://eji.org/bryan-stevenson)
• Find a homeless shelter or Rescue Mission in your area and make a donation – even just a package of brand new warm socks will be appreciated.
• And most importantly, when you see or hear about someone in need, start by assuming it’s not their fault. Listen to and learn from people who are different from you.

Surely you can think of more ways to love your neighbor and promote social justice. Feel free to add your suggestions to the comments below.

(The Good Samaritan passage can be found in Luke 10:25-37)

I was in Mr. Heinrichs’ 4th grade when I got my first contact lenses. One afternoon in the middle of a lesson on something important, I rubbed my eye and everything to the right of me went fuzzy. Convinced the lens had popped out, I had the entire class crawling on the floor trying to locate a nearly invisible tiny circle. After a few minutes of pandemonium a classmate stared me in the eye and said “I think I see it!” With sincere apologies to Mr. Heinrichs, it turns out the contact had shifted from my pupil and wasn’t lost at all.

My childhood was filled with eye doctor visits (“lens one or lens two?”) followed by new stronger prescriptions (“look at all the leaves on the trees!”). It was always my deep desire to be able to see the world more clearly. And for many years I thought I did. But then I entered my 40’s and what I thought I knew about the world – and my eyesight – began to change.

In the famous chapter on love, the apostle Paul so poetically wrote:

“For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully,…”

I Cor 13:12

These days as I try to read words printed in what surely is a smaller and smaller font size, I really feel that “dimly” part. Issues have two, or seventeen, sides; people are complex; grey is a more hospitable place to hang out. I love to learn and seek understanding, but my experiences are so limited and my view can be myopic. So I ask a lot of questions, listen to different perspectives, and ask God for discernment. My newest contacts are two different prescriptions – one for close up and one for distance. I don’t love it, but it reminds me of what Paul said, that in this life I will never see with perfect clarity.