Clarion: Journal of Spirituality and Justice

Q&R with Brad Jersak - "I struggle with prayers to the Mother of Jesus"

Question:

 

Hi Brad, I'm wondering if you would point me to some articles or resources that might help me better understand the prayers to the Theotokos ["Mother of God"]. As a pastor whose entire upbringing and training has been in the Evangelical church, I struggle most with any prayers directed toward the Mother of Jesus. 

 

Response:

 

When I think of Orthodox prayers to the Theotokos, some separate puzzle pieces come to mind that bear thinking about. Which pieces you use and how you assemble them is going to be personal to you.

Puzzle Piece 1 - John 19:25-27

And standing by the Cross of Jesus his mother, and the sister of his mother, Mary, the wife of Clopas, and Mary, the Magdalene. Jesus, therefore, seeing his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing by, said to his mother: “Woman, behold thy son.” Then, he said to the disciple “Behold thy mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own [home].

The historic/apostolic tradition understood this passage to mean that Christ gave his mother to become the mother of his church family. At other times (as in Shepherd of Hermes), Mary also represents the church itself, which serves as a mother to individual disciples. But the point is that the legitimate felt-need for a 'Mother God' in Protestant Progressive movements would be redundant for Orthodox and Catholic believers who already know the love of a mother in the Theotokos. They believe Christ himself directly gifted her to us for that very purpose. How we see this passage is a major puzzle piece in our theology of Theotokos.

 

Puzzle Piece 2 - "Prayer" and "Mediation" 

 

It's important to understand what Orthodox and Catholic believers mean by "pray" in its ancient English form, which simply refers to making a request. Think Shakespeare. "I pray thee." Pray in this sense is something we do all the time, particularly if we are sending out "prayer requests." I ask friends and family and even strangers to pray for me all the time. Granted, I am more likely to ask my wife to pray for me than most other people I know because of her love for me and her track record of faith-filled, fervent and effective prayers (cf. James 5). If I ask Eden to pray for me, I am not denying my own direct access to God. I can ask God for myself. So why do I invite her to join her prayers to mine? I don't know how it 'works' but I do see the apostles modeling that same request to their congregations (e.g. Eph. 6). And so we invoke help in presenting our requests to God. Pretty normal. 

 

So why would we not invoke the prayers of the Theotokos who is (a) alive, (b) with Christ, (c) has an earthly track record of making bold requests of him, (d) and is now glorified with divinized capacities to minister as an intercessor? To seek out the best makes sense to me and who has ever modeled a greater combination of surrender and boldness before God (Father, Son, and Spirit) than Mary? 

 

The fact that Mary is a living person (we believe she's alive, right?) who continues to intercede for the saints (as we all should) shouldn't stumble us, but somehow, Protestants got fixated on the problem of mediation. Paul said, "We have one mediator between God and man--the man Christ Jesus." True! But apparently, his unique mediation does not exclude intercession by a concerned third party mother at the Throne of Grace, nor does it disqualify any of us from ministering on God's behalf to his children. We have one mediator but many intercessors before God and many ministers from God.      

 

Puzzle Piece 3 - "Save us" 

 

When I chant hymns to the Theotokos, what I notice first is that they are primarily Christological affirmations that assert the deity of Jesus Christ. The whole reason we call Mary the Theotokos was a refutation of Arianism. The human Son in her womb is also fully God. So we call her the Temple, the Holy of Holies, and the Ark of the Covenant for this reason: to proclaim that the One who she bore in her womb is none other than the Shekinah Glory of God, the Living Torah, the Living Manna, the budding Staff of Aaron. As Christological affirmations that simultaneously fulfill the angelic call to bless the Virgin, I enjoy singing them.

 

That said, when I first chanted hymns to Mary from the hymnal we call the Octoechos, I found some of them jarring as they called on her to "save us." We have one Savior ... and so does Mary. The Virgin bore her own Savior. But I habitually think of salvation exclusively in its capital S soteriological sense. But again, there's a language issue. If we can just comprehend how God employs many servant-ministers to help us, to rescue us, to 'save' us when we are in dire straights, then we don't need to become confused or offended when we ask for Mary's help. To ask for her help or your help IS to ask for God's help embodied in his willing helpers.

 

I was once on the verge of drowning and called out to my friend Bob Ekblad to stretch out his hand to save me. Oddly, God did not seem to feel slighted, nor did Bob rebuff me for heresy. In fact, God actually seemed to empower Bob to save me. "Prayers" (requests) for the Theotokos to "save (help) us" are nothing more (and nothing less) than spiritual 9-1-1 calls to our loving mother. I've had a lifetime of making regular calls to my earthly mom, Irene Jersak, invoking her prayers and her help. Likewise, I'm grateful for a heavenly mom whom God dispatches on request. 

 

Still, on occasion, I read an odd hymn that is simply over the top. To read some of these hymns (very few) literally does seem idolatrous to me. To be generous, I could just read it as the poetic excess of an overzealous, adoring child of Mary. I've noticed that some such hymns are (1) clearly not as ancient, (2) smack of Mariolatry, (3) or obviously and inappropriately hyperbolic. I shake my head and move on, just as I move on in Protestant worship services when the songs spout heresies of God's wrath being poured out on Jesus or the Father having to turn his head away. Sometimes hymnographers screw up. It happens.    

 

Puzzle Piece 4 - Experiencing Mary

 

I had a great chat with Fr. Michael Gillis (a wise Antiochian archpriest) when I was first asking the same questions. His advice was something like this: don't give too much energy worrying about Mary until you experience her. When it's time, God may grant you a spiritual experience that involves her, makes sense to you and clears the path for the rest of these questions. In other words, the topic of Mary shifts once you meet her. Happily, in my case, prior to my move to Orthodoxy, I had already encountered her in the context of an inner healing moment. It's a long story but the punchline is that "little Bradley" (a child part of me) was feeling lost and scared. As fixed my eyes fixed on his voice, I felt him putting me in his mom's arms. I felt her holding me close and I felt her intense motherly love pour an indescribable balm of solace into my soul. The Beatles' "Let It Be" and the Catholic Rosary Prayer flooded through my mind:

 

"Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee. [Yes, Jesus is with her, and therefore with me].
Blessed art thou amongst women, [As we read in Luke's Gospel]
And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. [Because he is the point]
Holy Mary, Mother of God, Pray for us sinners, [Inviting her intercession]
Now and at the hour of our death. Amen." [As every 'letting go' is a tiny death].

 

And I so I came to understand Jesus welcome my invocations to Mary by experience.

But I also knew to continue holding my focus on Jesus' face, even while six-year-old Bradley relaxed back into Mama's healing arms. 

 

All that to say, don't worry about it. Keep your focus on Christ just as Mary does. Pope John Paul II's corrective to Catholic Maryolatry was simple: When you come to the Throne of the Grace, set your gaze on Jesus Christ. Don't be surprised if you see her at his throne, too. But if you see her, don't be distracted. Rather, let her disciple you by emulating her unwavering gaze on the Son of God.

 

And if he wants to give her to you personally--to say, "Behold, your mother,"just as when he gave her to John the Beloved--he'll get to it at just the right time for you.

 

But I will repeat this reminder and clarify: the impulse or longing in our heart for Mother God is holy. I experienced it when reading Paul Young's The Shack. To experience the Mother heart of God is a divine gift. Receive it! But also, understand how for the 'Mother

Church Tradition,' the Mother heart of God is most often experienced through the divinized empathy and affection of Jesus' own precious mom, whom he so generously shared with us from his Cross.

Consent & Participation in Democracy & Theology - Brad Jersak

“Let the Process Play Out”?

In a recent podcast from the pollsters at FiveThirtyEight.com, Galen Druke asked Clare Malone (the senior politics writer) about the values and dangers of a “Let the process play out” stance on court challenges to the 2020 American election. Her response was telling:

“What Divided the Electorate in 2020,” Fivethirtyeight.com (11-16-2020)

Galen Druke: “They’ve said, ‘Let’s let the process play out. President Trump has the right to bring these legal challenges, etc.’ and in some ways giving credibility to these conspiracy theories surrounding voter fraud instead of saying ‘all the secretaries of state said that this an election that has been conducted with integrity, a secure election, etc.’ Are there any long-term problems for small-d democracy in the broader Republican apparatus not forcefully rebutting this?”   

Clare Malone

Clare Malone: “For sure. Even though we all know to read through the lines that ‘he should get security briefings’ means ‘we think he won the election,’ there’s a big difference between saying that and saying, ‘He won the election; let’s move on.’” It’s not a healthy sign, it’s not a good thing. This is not me saying American democracy is over, but it is me saying, “In order to stay healthy, you eat well and exercise.” This is people, like, smashing hamburgers and shooting heroin into their veins.”

Later in the podcast, Clare Malone goes on to describe the essential problem as the necessity of consent in a democratic social contract, which I’ll restate and expand on here:

Consent & Participation: Essential to Democracy  

Political Science Fact: Consent is an essential pillar of small-d democracy. Refusal of candidates to concede an election is not merely an exercise in bad sportsmanship. It breaks a central feature of the social contract—rule by consent. Yes, we must do everything possible to ensure fair and legal elections. But opting to battle election results in court, based on unfounded claims of voter fraud, is not consent. Even when the losing party loses the election a second time in court, the ‘consent fundamental’ has still been effectively removed and democracy is crippled. Without consent, elections become just another form of coercion and there’s nothing exceptional about that.

Further, without consent, the outcomes of the election move from the electorate to the courts. In the worst case, the courts may overrule the will (participation) of the people. And even in the best case, the decision to confirm or veto the will of the electorate is still relocated to the judiciary. Participation of the people is subordinated to decisions by the gavel. Surely that is not what the founders imagined.  

One American commentator said to me, “We’ve reached the point where more than half of Republicans are just about ready to say it out loud: ‘We don’t give a damn about democracy.” That’s to be expected when one’s primary aim and political platform is reduced to securing power (by admission). At the very least, it’s a revisioning of democracy without consent, a phenomenon in other nations that Americans have historically called out, as in Russia and Iran for instance.

Please note carefully: democracy in America does not turn on whether Biden or Trump ‘won.’ What matters here is whether whoever loses (Trump, in this case) is willing to play their role to maintain democratic consent by willingly conceding. We see in retrospect why it was so important for Al Gore to concede to George Bush despite the kafuffle around Florida recounts in 2000. Gore’s concession meant that Bush’s presidency and American democracy were ultimately consensual. That didn’t happen this time.¹ And now it can’t—because even if President Trump concedes after losing in court, it’s no longer conceding by consent. It’s a downgrade for sure—so obvious to the rest of the world—but if that’s the future she chooses, we’ll have to accept and adapt to America’s new political reality. We’ll be okay.

Consent & Participation: Essential to Theology

Sadly, a (the?) dominant force in the erosion of democracy in the U.S.A. has come via the efforts of American(ized) Christianity to marry politics with faith. I think FiveThirtyEight saw this but what follows are my own conclusions.

 

Paula White

Yes, please, let your faith guide your political choices with integrity and truth. But when the President’s ‘spiritual advisor’ prophesies that God told her angels have been dispatched from Africa and South America to change election results—that victory has already been secured in the heavenlies—we’ve entered Christian voodoo territory. It’s a partisan political appeal to divine sovereignty sans the crucial (literally) doctrine of divine consent, and therefore a critical crack in Christianity’s theological foundations.  

 

How do consent and participation figure into Christian theology or our political theology? Simone Weil and George Grant (both political philosophers) saw the Cross as a revelation of divine consent and participation:

• The Cross reminds us of God’s consent in creation, making kenotic space for authentic otherness. Creation itself is a manifestation of “the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.”

• Thus, God consents to the reality of secondary causes, including natural law and human freedom, without direct interference in the shadow sides of tragedy and evil … or elections.

• At the Cross God even consents to our defiance as we reject and crucify Jesus Christ (or truth and justice) even while harnessing the great crime of deicide for our redemption.

• At the Cross (and really, beginning with Gethsemane), we see Christ consent to the will of his Father in drinking the cup of affliction for our sake, bearing the worst of human history in himself (to become the Lord of history).

• At the Cross, we come to the end of ourselves, fall to our knees and consent to the healing grace that flows from the wounds of Christ.

• The Cross reveals God as far different from that of the Deists who penned the Constitution. This is the crucified God who fully participates in the human condition, undergoing our limitations, our injustice, and even our death.

• The Cross reveals the path of redemption that calls not only for our consent but also our full participation in his project (‘the kingdom of God’)—God’s rule and reign by love (i.e. consent and participation) rather than by coercion.

In the end, it’s no surprise that when a nation-state becomes a global empire, we would inevitably see slippage away from democracy by consent and participation into partisan will-to-power. It may be disappointing, but apart from historical amnesia, not unexpected. But for Christianity itself to stray from the cruciform theology of consent and participation into theocratic delusions is simply tragic—and as I’ve said elsewhere, attaching Jesus' name to such ambitions is blasphemous.

It may be odd, then, to hear a word of hope. But those willing to acknowledge and abandon the lose-lose cul-de-sacs into which our culture has wandered may still find an exit. Alternative paths may present themselves, but they will look nothing like the powerplays of spectrum ideology or bastardized faith. Personally, I’m watching for cues from those on the margins who embody the Beatitudes of Jesus. Here’s hoping.   

NOTES:

[1] Barry Richard—George Bush’s top Florida lawyer in the case that went to the Supreme Court—denies any claims that the current barrage of 30+ lawsuits in 6 different states are in any way similar to 2000. https://www.nbcmiami.com/news/politics/decision-2020/bush-v-gore-lawyers-2020-court-fight-is-not-similar-to-2000/2326866/.

Our Refiner's Fire - my foreword to Steve Stewart's "The Beatitudes for a Time of Crisis" - by Brad Jersak

“The Divine Life”

My full immersion into the Beatitudes as a daily practice began on the hiking trails of the North Cascades, where my mentor Ron Dart led me “up on a mountain,
me down, opened his mouth and taught me, saying” (Matt. 5:1-2),

The Divine Life is for those who die to the demands of the ego. Such people will inhabit the Kingdom of Heaven.

The Divine Life is for those who have lived through tragedy and suffering. Such people will be comforted at a deep level.

The Divine Life is for those who bring their passions under
control for goodness. It is such people that will inherit the earth.

The Divine Life is for those who hunger and thirst for justice. Such people will be fed to the full.

The Divine Life is offered to those who are gracious and merciful. Such people will be treated in a merciful and gracious manner.

The Divine Life is offered to those whose Home is clean on the Inside. Such people will know the very presence of God and see His face.

The Divine Life is offered to those who are Makers and Creators of Peace. Such people will be called the children of God.

The Divine Life is known by those who are persecuted for
seeking Justice. Such people will know what it means to live in the Kingdom of Heaven.

The Divine Life is known by those who are mistreated and
misunderstood in their passion for justice. They will inherit the Kingdom of Heaven. The prophets were treated this way in the past.

—Matthew 5:3-12

Ron’s translation of the Beatitudes gripped me from the start. I saw in Christ’s ‘words-made-fresh’ how the death and resurrection of Christ were transposed into the daily life of Christian discipleship. The ‘blessedness’ (Gk. makarios) Jesus describes is itself an ascent (by descent) into the ‘divine life’ (theosis) found on the Way of the Cross (kenosis). The irony of the Beatitudes (and the whole Sermon on the Mount) is that we become most human through self-emptying meekness that actually bankrupts the ego.

Christ overturns every grandiose notion of greatness—divine or human—revealing that the Jesus Way into God’s kingdom is a path marked by humility, meekness and peace. It is the counterintuitive Way for those whom the apostle Peter calls “partakers of the divine nature” (2 Pet. 1:4). A bold statement to be sure—a privilege afforded all those responding to the Lord’s “Follow me.”

The Refiner’s Fire

So it was that I began to pray the Beatitudes daily, inhaling and exhaling alternating lines, modulating between the cruciform blessings and the resurrection outcomes intrinsic to each Beatitude. Over years, my prayer was that in God’s mercy, the repetition would internalize Jesus’ words—driving them deeper than mere behavior modification, finding their way into my character, and bringing about the transformation (lit. transfiguration) Paul describes in 2 Cor. 3:18.

Whatever self-awareness I do have tells me I’ve barely begun that ascent. But what I have noticed is that the Beatitudes sharpen anyone’s discernment if they’re willing to let Christ install these verses in their hearts. Here’s what I mean:

The Psalmist says that the word of the Lord is pure, like silver refined in the furnace seven times (Ps. 12:6). Can you imagine having that level of discernment? What if every alleged ‘word from God’ you heard, whether directly or through the mouth of God’s self-proclaimed spokespersons, were to pass through the Refiner’s fire (Mal. 3:3) seven times? What if that fiery furnace were so hot that no false word could survive its purifying flames?

I believe these Beatitudes comprise that furnace to the n^th-degree. By praying them in the Spirit over and over until they become a sort of spiritual respiration within you, I believe the Lord will install these words as an oven in your soul that devours all that cannot pass as God’s word.

I mentioned grandiosity earlier. I can honestly say that most of the prophetic words I received during the charismatic renewal appealed to my fleshly cravings to achieve greatness—and with God’s rubber stamp of approval. My ego loved to hear God say, “Ask me and I will give you the nations as your inheritance” (forgetting that Ps. 2:8 prophesies the kingship of Christ!). I just knew it was my time for a fresh passport to spiritual fame! Meanwhile, I still haven’t perfected the art of kindness to everyone on my own cul-de-sac.

But what if we were to pass my anticipation of glory through the Beatitudes? Blessed are the poor in spirit (sparks ignite and smoke begins to rise). Blessed are those who mourn (crackle, sizzle). Blessed are the meek (phht! Up in smoke!). And without further ado, I am humbled and maybe just a touch more Christlike. Far better that than climbing my own pedestal for impending humiliation (speaking from experience).

So I am very grateful for the little death of self-centeredness and the resurrection life of Jesus in each Beatitude. And I’m glad for this little furnace of discernment that our Lord provided each of his disciples—a shield of protection from self-deceit and delusion.

Steve Stewart & Impact Nations

That said, doesn’t “Impact Nations” sound a little ambitious? It would if Steve’s Stewart’s growing army of world-servants were hoping to make their mark for themselves and in their own way. Instead, what I see is a company of cruciform disciples who’ve given themselves to self-giving love. The Holy Spirit genius of their mission derives from the tears they weep, their hunger and thirst for justice (dikiosune), and their deep commitment to mercy. They are peacemakers who can rightly be called ‘children of God,’ not because they said the right prayer, believed the right creed, or made the right claim. These are ‘children by imitation’ of the Father who is risky in his generosity and indiscriminate in his kindness.

I say this for hermeneutical reasons: First, if you want to understand the Beatitudes, I commend to you the lives of the Stewart clan and their rowdy entourage. And if you want to understand what makes Steve Stewart and company tick, dive into the life of the Beatitudes. But now I pass the baton for that journey to my dear friend, Steve. He’s a good guide up the mountain because his eyes are ever watching the footsteps of our Rabbi. 

 

Let's Stop the Political Blasphemy - Brad Jersak

Election(s) 2020: Four Convictions Upon Reflection
(with a P.S. interview from Brian Zahnd)

I. Vote your conscience.

I did in our recent election. Most people do. That's also a good invitation to reexamine the health of your conscience. Ask honestly where your vote ignored, offended, or violated your conscience. If your conscience comes to complete peace with ANY party's political platform across the board, then it has lost its capacity to discern or distinguish the gospel of the kingdom from the kingdoms of this world. Our politics have effectively disabled the God-given Nathan within. That should alarm us. It signals a call to repent and return, to fast from political idolatry until your baptismal allegiance to the "kingdom not of, like or from this world" is renewed and unconfused.

II. Be loyal to truth.

When we are so invested in our team that we blindly grasp at party propaganda without fact-checking, the fundamental Christian commitment to upholding truth (and therefore justice) is compromised. The second fateful step—wilfully perpetuating misinformation in the pursuit of power ("winning" or sulking if we don't)—is not merely a foray into character assassination. It is an act of moral self-harm. Character suicide. Once we make the third move—confronted with the truth, we respond, "I don't care"—we're now officially lost. What is the supposed "win" when someone displays a manifest desire to be duped? At that point, the pursuit of truth is over and enforcing healthy boundaries is likely the best we can hope to achieve.

III. Let your principles shape your politics.

The previous two points apply to every person, in any party, from any political system, in any nation. They ought to apply especially to Christian believers who risk their souls by entering a voting booth or posting to social media. But the dominance of dubious content and the hateful tone that has climaxed in a cold civil war south of my border has exposed the disease—the idolatry—of partisan amoralism and spectrum ideology that I addressed in A More Christlike Way. 

I rightly worry about the marriage of deep moral convictions and political bias in our attempt to persuade. But to ask, "How can you vote for them when they [insert your greatest moral outrage here]?!" is not out of bounds. Our moral and ethical principles should never be overlooked when wading into the political arena. Indeed, that's half the problem I've addressed in my previous points. It's critical that we know our sense of right from wrong and let that inform our politics and shape how we seek to persuade.               

IV. Let's stop the prophetic blasphemy.

“Any attempt to use the Spirit to leverage political power is blasphemous.” 
—C.E.W. Green

Okay, we get carried away, we get passionate, we slip. It happens. But for Christ's sake (literally), could we at least demand that our 'Christian leaders' cease with the political blasphemy? I am not speaking here metaphorically. Any of us might be guilty of abandoning Christ just by voting. That's not it. No, we have to say this directly and specifically: those who call themselves 'God's prophets' (literally) and then direct their flock to vote for a particular man or party because God says so (literally) are false prophets (literally).

I have watched our broader political idolatry escalate dramatically to overt blasphemy over the course of the last 20 years in certain (not all) wings of the evangelical-charismatic world that was my home.     

Please hear me: men and women of good faith who I love and trust wrestled and reasoned their way to cast their vote for President Donald Trump. Some described it to me as plugging their nose and voting strategically for a conservative Supreme Court. Others were enthusiastic about America's retreat from the world stage. They applauded the death knell of American exceptionalism on his watch. In any case, that is NOT what I'm talking about here.

I am specifically condemning what liberals and conservatives, Democrats and Republicans, have fairly called "the cult of Trumpism."¹ It can be defined as abusing the name of Jesus Christ and declaring falsehoods "by the Spirit" to establish Donald Trump as "God's candidate," without regard for truth, facts or observable outcomes. Three examples: 

• Identifying the President as or with the Saviour.
• Declaring a false victory via divine and angelic intervention.
• Demonizing the opposition as cursed opponents of God's will.  

Am I overstating the case? Perhaps you saw these viral debacles?
First, from Paula White, "spiritual advisor to the President":  

 

Or the MAGA prayer warriors on their knees, interceding at the Clark County election offices:

 

I can't in good conscience post the examples I think were far less tasteful. The boiling point here is not who we think should ascend the imperial throne. What I'm addressing is not a partisan political problem at all. This crisis concerns the reverse transfiguration of prominent Christian streams (who think they have the President's ear) into a dangerous sect. Dangerous to democracy, if that matters. Discrediting to Christian conservatives, certainly. But fatal to faith, and that does matter.  

So, yes, please: vote your conscience, be loyal to the truth, let your principles shape your politics. But for the love of Christ, most of all, let's say an emphatic no to political blasphemy and invite estranged and disillusioned friends of Christ back to the Altar. 

P.S. Postcards from Babylon

But it's not as though this took us by surprise. After posting his Feb. 14, 2017 article, "Cyrus Candidate or Charismatic Catastrophe," Brian Zahnd felt compelled to write his warning/rejoinder to politically compromised faith (of any brand) in his book (and forthcoming documentary) Postcards from Babylon. 

The following interview with Brian covers many of the book's themes. It may leave a better aftertaste than the bitter pill I've offered. If we're seeking our national prophets for Christlike clarity, BZ is a far better candidate::

Notes:

1. Cf. among the dozens of articles (and one edited book by 20 psychiatrists), Andrew Sullivan, "With Trump, the Pathology is the Point," The Intelligencer, 05-22-20; Joe Jobanaski, "The Cult of Trumpism," The Recorder 8-7-20; Ali Breland, "Cult Experts Warn the Trumpism Is Starting to Look Awfully Familiar," MotherJones.com 04-04-20; Sean Illing, "Is Trumpism a Cult?" Vox 01-26-20; Bandy Lee (ed.),The Dangerous Case of Donald Trump (Thomas Dunne, 2017).  

"We Are All Revenants" - Bradley Jersak

 

Out of chaos, Good News today: the great gift of the Jesus Way is not so much the Church’s ability to survive its own self-inflicted death. Rather, we marvel at how it can continually die and rise again.

In the midst of the storm, Hope today: even in the great darkness of the Church’s imperial aspirations and its corrosive choices to become the idolatrous escort of state power—even after the deep disillusionment of the Great Deconstruction—inexplicably, a Light shines. A Voice from elsewhere speak. A gift of faith that defies reason persists.

Watch for it. Wait for it.

I am reminded of G.K. Chesterton’s prescient words a century ago, describing the Church, not as an all-powerful institution, but as an alternative society that rises Phoenix-like from its own ashes, because against our better judgment, Christ has never abandoned or divorced her:

"What is this incomparable energy which appears first in one walking the earth like a living judgment and this energy which can die with a dying civilization and yet force it to a resurrection from the dead…?”

“There is an answer: it is an answer to say that the energy is truly from outside the world…”

“All other societies die finally and with dignity. We die daily. We are always being born again with almost indecent obstetrics. It is hardly an exaggeration to say that there is in historic Christendom a sort of unnatural life: it could be explained as a supernatural life. It could be explained as an awful galvanic life working in what would have been a corpse. For our civilization ought to have died, by all parallels, by all sociological probability, in the Ragnorak of the end of Rome. That is the weird inspiration of our estate: you and I have no business to be here at all. We are all revenants; all living Christians are dead pagans walking about.” ― G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy

So, once again, what we called ‘Church’ has, once again, largely imploded—its hypocrisy laid bare, its motives exposed, a victim of the Kool-Aid it served and drank in exchange for the true Vine. Those who fled the sinking ship frequently forget their complicity and continue to imbibe in the same contempt they condemned in their Mother. Selective amnesia, perhaps. The disillusioned may have emerged from a religious nightmare but can’t perceive they’re still twitching through the dream paralysis of ideological possession. Woke? Oh no, my dear.

So whence this hope? Just watch. Just wait…  

“Christendom has had a series of revolutions and in each one of them, Christianity has died. Christianity has died many times and risen again; for it had a God who knew the way out of the grave.” ― G.K. Chesterton, The Everlasting Man

Memoricide: Conservative & Progressive Amnesia - Ron Dart (with Brad Jersak)

Unwrathing God: Nonviolent Atonement, Eschatology & Practice - Bradley Jersak

Restorative Justice: Peacemaking, NOT War-making - Wayne Northey (interview host: Brad Jersak)

IRPJ.org (Institute for Religion, Peace & Justice) presents an interview with Wayne Northey (host: Brad Jersak) highlighting the contrast between Western criminal justice as retributive pain-delivery and the inclusive, restorative, community justice that more effectively serves offenders, those they've harmed and the communities in which they live.

Transcript: Download IRPJ Q&A with Wayne Northey

Jersak & Young's, "The Pastor: A Crisis" - review by Becky Parker

The Pastor: A Crisis - Review by Becky Parker

Before I began this book, I knew I’d be uncomfortable with some of the material. I’d heard an interview in which the authors confirmed that the topic of child sexual abuse was discussed.

Since I am not a victim of sexual assault, I was not afraid of triggering in that regard. I knew that my discomfort would be the deep fear such a topic invokes in me especially as a mother. Even the thought that such abuse could happen to me or one of my children causes me to experience fear and anxiety.

As I read, a realization came to me that I didn’t like to admit. It was not just my fear for my loved ones that made me uncomfortable. It was that my fear and anxiety took a dark turn and produced a mix of condemnation, vengeance, and self-righteousness. This book forced me to take on all these dark expressions of my own fear and anxiety.

The story reveals the devastating damage caused by sexual violence and how not even a perpetrator is exempt. My heart was stirred to compassion for one that I would normally have been quick to condemn to the harshest penalty and just as quickly to elevate myself as one much superior.

The story forced me to look into my own heart to scrutinize and ask the questions: Who do I struggle to love? Can I see the image of God in all people? Do I wish to be the judge of others? How does a desire for vengeance and retribution keep me from being free? Am I glad when I see others forgiven? Do I trust that I am loved and forgiven? Perhaps the most telling: Do I truly wish to see everyone redeemed?

This story was a refining fire for me. I was confronted with one of my worst fears and one of my most steadfast scapegoats, and I realized those two were related and needed confronting in my life. As I know the Lord does not wish any to perish, but all to come to repentance, I know also that as I am made in His image, I should feel the same. If I do not, something is going on within me that should be confronted. Strangely, that is not a burdensome feeling, but freeing.

As “The Pastor” discusses in depth the pain, trauma, and despair that results from sexual abuse, it also moves toward hope. It was this feeling of hope that impressed me throughout the story. Hope of forgiveness, mercy, and healing. It is also a powerful story of surrender and the need for self-forgiveness, and the alternative of self-destructive coping mechanisms that we cling to.

“The Pastor” resonates with all of us. Those who have suffered abuse in its many forms, those grappling with a disheartened view of religion, and all of us who, at some time, have struggled with offering forgiveness or accepting love.

The Pastor: My Gift to Little Bradley (vulnerability triggers) - Brad Jersak

I was seven-years-old and in love. To my shame, I've forgotten her name, but my second-grade teacher left a deep impression on me. Nothing sexual at that point, but certainly a longing for her affection. She was young and beautiful and a child of the sixties, complete with rock star boyfriend, brightly patterned mini-skirts and all things "Age of Aquarius." She "punished" disruptive male students by making them sit on her knee but somehow my strategies to that end ever only landed me in the corner. 

I chose to channel my unrequited love into my first work of fiction. My beloved handed out two sheets of fullscap along with a sticker. The assignment was to write a short story on the subject of the sticker--mine was a tiger. I dove deeply into the process, my first effort at creative story-telling and a true labour of love. I remember the room and the desk where I wrote the tale of "Tiger the tiger" and I recall my parents peaking through the doorway, proudly witnessing the artist at work.

I remember the day I strode to Voyageur Elementary School to deliver my handiwork. I remember how cold that Winnipeg winter morning was. I remember my excitement and how proud I felt of the finished product. So proud, in fact, that before entering the school, I attempted a preliminary act of daring. I would tight rope walk along the top rail of the iron boot-scraper. I recall mounting, catching my balance, extending my arms and stepping forward. Alas, the ice! I slipped badly, stradling the bar and landing full-force on my young testicles! Oh, the excruciating pain! The traumatic embarrassment! The waves of nausea!

I gathered the remaining crumbs of my dignity, my shattered pride and my scattered notebooks. Gratefully, few seemed to have noticed the bruised fruit of my arrogance. I limped feebly into the school and down the hall to Ms.____'s homeroom. I reached into my parka pocket to retrieve my Tiger story--and found it was empty. Panicked, I returned to the scene of my accident and scoured the snow for the lost parchment. Nada. Gonzo. And an emotional hole opened in the pit of my stomach. All was lost. 

I had neither the time, energy or heart for a rewrite. My parents and teacher conferred, confirming completion and forgiving the missing assignment. But that didn't heal the wound. I made a vow to myself that day--my promise to Little Bradley. One day, I will complete the work. It won't be about the Tiger and it won't be for my teacher. It will be a gift to that broken-hearted child with the bruised nuts.

I am now 56-years-old. After nearly five decades, through the guidance and generosity of my dear friend and co-author, Paul Young, I have kept my promise. I've finally delivered my first work of fictional truth-telling, miscarried on the icy iron rail in February 1972. The Pastor: A Crisis is my gift to Little Bradley. Even the novel's dedication ("For Jacki") is to one of Little Bradley's very best friends.

Paul and I pray that by reading The Pastor: A Crisis, others like me would experience the healing of bruised and wounded child parts that we recount in its pages. "Trust the ripples," Paul says. I do. I really do.                 

Imbach's Wager - Brad Jersak with Stephen Imbach

PASCAL’S WAGER

Pascal was a genius mathematician and a brilliant philosopher/theologian. He is known in popular apologetics for what we call “Pascal’s Wager.” For a very precise discussion, I would refer readers to this article in the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. A simplistic summary of the wager might say:   

It is in our best interest to believe in God because if God does exist, the benefits are infinite—and even if God does not exist, our mistaken belief does no harm. But if any possibility exists that not believing leads to eternal punishment, the risk of unbelief far outweighs any of its advantages. I.e. Pascal’s Wager is that your best bet (most rational and most pragmatic) is on faith God, even if we cannot prove his existence.

Since the time of Pascal conceived of his wager in his classic tome, Pensées, numerous counter-arguments have developed. While I could present my own critical analysis, that’s not my point. I only mention it to present an alternative wager that goes “all in” on faith in the goodness of God and represents the real-life leap of my spiritual director, Stephen Imbach.

IMBACH’S WAGER   

Stephen Imbach was raised by God-fearing parents in a fundamentalist Christian environment where he internalized a shame-based conservative gospel. He eventually bottomed out in the presence of his spiritual director, who saw the torment Stephen endured by clinging to that old system of fear, condemnation and moralism. The spiritual director suggested a risky proposition: denounce God as you have come to conceive God.

Denounce is a strong word. It means to formally declare that we are abandoning something—in this case, every conception Steve ever assumed or adopted concerning the “faith of his fathers.” Stephen tells me that after pondering this challenge, he embarked on what I’m calling “Imbach’s Wager.” He said to God,

I am letting go of everything I have ever learned about God. God, if you want, you now have a chance to work and you can come to me however you want to.

That was it. He was not calculating the odds of reward or punishment based in rationalist or pragmatic faith. He had already found transactional, performance-based religiosity bankrupt. There was nothing left to lose. He would simply pin all his hopes on the possibility that God is good.

That’s Imbach’s Wager: with nothing left to lose, what if we let go and found out that God is good—good enough to come find us.     

GENUINE PEACE

I asked Stephen how God came to him. It isn’t the same for everyone. Even though the Christian community might have judged him as a backslider and equated restoration with returning to the fold, God had his own path for Stephen. How did God come to him? In Stephen’s words,

A genuine peace came over me. Peace that everything is going to be okay. That God was saying, “I am not letting you go” and peace because, “Finally, you are being honest with me.”

When you let God come to you, it will be in a way that is most significant to you. I needed God to come in peace because my life is generally inner turmoil.

The peace that came I could not find for myself. It was peace with my own sense of self and peace that I’m really okay with and before God. And so eventually, I let him find me.  

I wonder: for those who have undergone some measure of deconstruction, rather than clinging by a final fingernail to a faith that requires clinging to, what if we took the huge risk of letting go (so different than walking away) and said, “I will not manufacture pseudo-belief for even one more step. But I will consent to watching for and welcoming Divine Love’s approach, wherever and however She chooses." I wonder. No, I might even bet on that.  

The Bruderhof - "Another Life is Possible" - Review & Reflections by Brad & Eden Jersak

Another Life is Possible – Insights from 100 years of Life Together

Another Life is Possible (Plough, 2020) arrived on our doorstep not long ago. Eden picked up the package and felt its physical weight, but we no idea how its physical size would be outweighed by the contents within the book’s covers. In this reflection, both Brad and Eden will respond. Eden first:

Another Life is Possible is possibly the most stunning book I (Eden) have ever worked through.

I (Eden) grew up in a Mennonite community (though not living “IN” community), and I feel a strong affinity to the Bruderhof. I resonate with the spirit of peace and pacifism, and the desire to work together to make change, instead of being lone agents. Having family close, eating together, working hard and sharing a purpose all tick the imaginary boxes in my heart.

All the technical components come together in this book. The pictures are breathtaking, capturing not only the form of each subject, but the very essence of them. The history and timeline of this community are laid out in a very clear and understandable way. The personal reflections allow you to enter into individual stories, their history, passions, paths to the Bruderhof and more. It is very nearly like being invited into each of their homes, or at the very least sitting across the table from them with a cuppa in hand.

Imagine if you could live your life at the intersection of your calling and vocation, and not have to feel the constant tension our culture generates to go in one direction after another to prove yourself. It is entirely possible to know your neighbours, to live your life in an environment where peace is a priority, and there are no “Jones” to keep up with.

The community has found a way to separate themselves from the “world,” while entering right back into it as agents of change, bringing practical hope, life and love to those who are vulnerable to being lost in the cracks of our society.

What is most moving to me (Eden) is the seamless way the gifts, callings, and ministries dovetail together.

This tribute to 100 years of The Bruderhof is a fantastically beautiful volume of photos, stories and glimpses into a life that this community has toiled to create. Their stories are authentic, relatable and help to demonstrate that another way is not only possible but the potential to thrive is plausible!

The Pastor & the President – Reflections on the Implosion - Brad Jersak

The Pastor: A Crisis

Paul Young and I have just released our novella, The Pastor: A Crisis (Capella Books 2020). The story features the dramatic meltdown of a fundamentalist pastor whose ministry of condemnation and moralism turns out to be a mask for his own deep wounds and their shameful consequences. Forced to face his ‘demons,’ the question is whether this tragic figure can yet find redemption.

When asked if the central figure represents Paul or I, the answer is No. The Pastor is actually a fictional composite that reflects real situations we’ve encountered, but we can certainly both relate to the damage done by religious abuse, harms we’ve experienced and the hurt we caused others in our own unique brokenness. And really, doesn’t that describe the human condition? In the great cosmic bus crash, we were all on board—it’s just that some folks (like me) found themselves in more privileged seats as others went through the proverbial windshield face-first.  

Back to our story: egoism and self-will love to flow through religiosity, inevitably expressed in the oppression of others. Of course, that’s contemptible. What’s less obvious in the headlines is how perpetrators may be projecting and paying forward their own traumatic backstory at others’ expense. That doesn’t make it okay, but neither does ignoring that reality solve the problem. Cycles of abuse aren’t arrested through retribution—true justice that restores lives and societies only comes via the hard work of pursuing restorative paths for everyone involved.    

The President: An Implosion

By unhappy coincidence, The Pastor is being released the same week as Jerry Falwell Jr.’s scandalous implosion splashed its way across the front pages of every news outlet in America. The parallels to our story are significant – fundamentalist religion, moral hypocrisy, sexual deviance—the juicy stuff that feeds our craving for karmic blowback. The sad truth is that while you can make this stuff up, it’s a gut-punch when fiction is revealed as truth. But what is the truth? What are we meant to see through the swirling haze of another tabloid-worthy scandal? Here are a few takeaway reflections viewed through my study of the Gospels, my experience as a pastoral burnout and as co-creator of The Pastor.

1. “Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again” (Matthew 7:1-2 KJV).

Jesus’ ominous warning (doubly so in ye olde English) should have been sufficient to humble his followers for all time. We should note that he is not issuing a divine threat so much as describing the nature of reality and the structure of society. In other words, I don’t read these verses as Christ’s intention—as in, “I’m going to pay you back in kind, you rotters.” He’s already rejected eye-for-an-eye payback earlier in this very sermon.

Rather, I hear Jesus talking about what typically happens in real life to those who are heavy-handed in their condemnation of others. Those who apply harsh standards inevitably break their own standards and then get judged by those same standards, whether by the culture or their conscience.

In the world we live in, the same activities Falwell is being condemned and cancelled for are continually normalized and even glorified on my Netflix menu. So, in our post-monogamous, anything-goes hook-up culture, why should he be singled out for condemnation?

Jesus explains it perfectly—Falwell was not so much judged for his actions but for his judgments and by his judgments, in the same measure as his judgments. That indicates to me that authentic repentance could start with his judgments and hypocrisy, rather than the ways he embarrassed his school or church’s image.

The irony is that our first temptation is to pick up the same stones Mr. Falwell has just dropped and feel justified in our heady new role as his judges. I stand warned by the same words of Christ. Which leads me to my next reflection.   

2. I need to examine my schadenfreude

^3 “And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye? ⁴ Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye? ⁵ Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye.”

Schadenfreude is a German term that literally means “pain-joy.” It is the odd feeling of satisfaction people derive from seeing someone else’s misfortunate—usually someone we hold in contempt. It’s that twinge of pleasure we feel when the proud man falls.

My son Stephen told me about a scientific study that suggested all but two of our emotions are experienced in one region of the brain: the exceptions are envy and schadenfreude. It made us wonder if they are emotions at all—and how the two vices are related.

I found myself instantly face-to-face with schadenfreude at the news of Falwell’s demise. I also knew from hard experience the importance of immediately resisting it. My greatest failings have been consistently treated with empathy and mercy—how dare I play the role of the unforgiving servant (Matthew 18:21-35). But I also felt it necessary to examine the temptation instead of burying it in denial. Whence comes the schadenfreude? What is it about? What is it up to?

I saw how my truest self—“the better angels of my nature” or my true self-in-Christ—instinctively prayed, “Lord, grant Mr. Falwell the same mercy I’ve received.” After all, I can’t expect to live in the land of grace while consigning him to the land of the law. I can’t expect God to correct me with a feather while demanding the hammer drop for the other.

Simply and selfishly put, “Release him with the kindness I want for myself.” Or in a more Christlike vein, “Father, forgive him. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.” But Brad, his sins were not in ignorance. They were deliberate. Deliberate yes, as are mine, but do we truly know what we do? We rarely understand the breadth of shrapnel and depth of damage we inflict when we entitle ourselves to transgress others and imagine we’re getting away with something. And no, that doesn’t disqualify us from forgiveness or exempt us from forgiving. But I won’t impose forgiveness on others who must live with pain they continue to endure. I’m only examining my own beam here.

I wonder too if schadenfreude is the shadow side of something right gone wrong. Is the satisfaction somehow also related to the exposure and expulsion of something we already intuited as rotten? When we know fundy-guilt-alism is a toxic counterfeit of authentic faith that has sabotaged millions of ex-vangelicals, we feel in our bones a certain rightness when the curtain is pulled back and the fraud is revealed.

The Psalmist, inspired by the Spirit, invokes curses against such men, even beseeching God,

¹² Let there be none to extend mercy unto him: neither let there be any to favour his fatherless children… ¹⁵ Let them be before the Lord continually, that he may cut off the memory of them from the earth.

Are these verses a revelation of God’s heart? Christ rejects cursing our enemies when he calls for blessing and prayers for them. Maybe the true inspiration here is that in God’s presence, David’s schadenfreude is honestly expressed so it can be thoroughly expunged, and all malice neutralized. Nevertheless, we are grateful when deception is finally seen for what it is and comes to a terminus.

3. “Moral outrage is a form of confession.” –Archbishop Lazar Puhalo

Finally, for a seasoned confessor like the monk Lazar Puhalo, nothing that went down with Mr. Falwell and Liberty University (as a multi-generational fundamentalist system) was a surprise. To Lazar, the moralizing message and ministry of condemnation is the surest sign and symptom of deeper, repressed passions Mr. Falwell was suffering. Those briefly released IG photos and videos were a confession dying to happen—‘dying’ because Falwell’s sloppiness signals the wear and tear of chronic guilt. Beneath the licentious behavior, Lazar saw (years ago) a soul who was suffering the corrosion of his own corruption and who projected his affliction in escalating xenophobia. The secret pain that energized his attacks is now public.

At least that’s how Abp. Lazar would diagnose him from afar (because who in his inner circle is up to it?). I’d call his assessment generous, because he’s seeing past the acting out behavior to the troubled heart of a real person. In confession, Lazar never asks, “What sins have you committed?” He always, always begins, “What is troubling you?” And his agenda is to bring the gospel to the heart of that trouble. That’s the mercy I’ve known throughout my own troubles. I hope that kind of love will penetrate Jerry Falwell Jr.’s heart and extend to all those damaged by the same system he both propped up and that became his cruel millstone.

In that sense, though Paul Young and I wrote the first drafts of The Pastor: A Crisis some years ago, I do see our book directly addressing both the dark shadows of this moment and, Lord willing, shining a healing light into it.

Q&R with Brad Jersak - 2 COVID 7:13? - 2 Chronicles 7 and the Pandemic

Question

I have a question regarding the scripture in 2 Chronicles 7:13,14 “When I shut up the heavens so that there is no rain, or command locusts to devour the land or send a plague among my people, if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” 

 

So many churches, pastors and leaders are quoting this OT scripture regarding the current pandemic and asking people to pray to have God stop this pandemic, and these are leaders of denominations and movements here in Australia.

 

In my mind, the premise of this interpretation of this text is that God has sent this plague because of our sin and so it is a punishment from God. Wouldn’t it be a more appropriate interpretation to understand this text in light of the author's perspective and mindset of their understanding of what God was like?

 

I would love to hear your thoughts or ask that you would be able to point me in the right direction regarding this particular scripture and how we interpret in light of prayer and this current pandemic.

 

Response

Good and timely question! 

 

I would begin by saying that Christians have no business in this text without reference to Christ and his gospel. That is, we are not welcome to read it as if we were Jews who had never heard of Jesus, his ministry and his teachings. Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, our invitation is to read the OT (Moses, the Prophets and all the Scriptures) as they prefigure Christ. Jesus must be our Rabbi and Sponsor into 2 Chronicles.

 

Most importantly, it is ultimately Christ alone who reveals the true nature of God, especially on the Cross, showing us that God IS self-giving, radically forgiving, co-suffering love. God-in-Christ also shows and tells us how he relates to 'wrath' in ways more nuanced (and still developing) than in the OT writings. The characters, narrators and authors of the OT anticipate and foreshadow Christ but John 1:18 and Hebrews 1:1-3 indicate that only in Christ do we see the fulness of God's nature and ways.

 

All of that informs how Christians came to read the OT. Early Jewish worldviews describe God directly blessing and cursing our virtues and vices by sending health, good weather and abundant crops on the righteous and sending disease, droughts and plagues on the wicked. This kind of direct intervention into secondary causes comes through in the Deuteronomic Covenant (e.g. Deut. 28). The OT prophets were typically and simply 'covenant enforcers.' observing their culture and applying those covenant passages to the situation as the voice of God. 

 

But already within the OT, various authors are challenging that worldview. They understand that it doesn't always work that way. The foolish friends in the book of Job who see the world that way are rebuked for saying things that very much echo those covenants. David loves the law but also asks, "Then why do the wicked prosper? And why are the righteous afflicted?" 

 

By the time you get to Isaiah and Ezekiel (for example), you still have this type of covenant enforcement lingo, but they also begin to distance God from direct wrath. Instead of "if you sin, God will destroy you," you get "if you sin, Babylon will destroy you." Where is God in that? First, his wrath becomes indirect: "He will give you over to your sin" or "He will give you over to Babylon." The idea is that God is not the destroyer. But God warns them that he will consent to their defiance and the consequences that naturally follow. Second, God becomes their co-suffering deliverer from the wrath (which gradually becomes a synonym for Satan). In Romans, Paul will make the same clarification: the wages of sin is death while the free gift of God is life. God is not the death-dealer. In chapter 1, he defines wrath as 'he gave them over' three times. So wrath is now a metaphor for the self-destructive consequences of our own defiance and God in his love both consents to our waywardness and participates in our salvation.

 

And now this brings us to Christ, who gets the last word. Christ has come into a world where people are already perishing (John 3:16-17) with an agenda to save. He IS the image of God in this world. And as God, he addresses the problem of direct wrath (as cited in Chronicles) on two major occasions. 

 

1. John 9 - "Who sinned that this man should be born blind? Him or his parents?" Implication, Sickness, disease and disability are God's punishments for sin. Jesus denies it. Wrong question. Wrong worldview. His response is that when we see sickness, disease and death, we don't know for sure if sin was involved except in the sense that we've all been part of a cosmic bus crash and some people had worse seats. You just can't judge and individual as righteous or wicked, blessed or cursed by God, based on their struggles. Rather, we should see human maladies as an occasion for God's mercy and healing. That's always where Christians must start.

 

2. Luke 13 - Pilate's Temple Massacre and the Fall of the Tower of Siloam: Here we have people dying at the hands of the Romans and in a tragic collapse of a local highrise. Jesus addresses how we should see the victims. Were they any more wicked than the survivors? No. You can't judge that because God was not the death-dealer. In one case, it fell to human wickedness and in the other, it was probably a random tragedy. We cannot infer anything about the victims' standing before God and we cannot attribute these deaths to God. In effect, he says, "Worry about your own hearts. Stop pointing the finger. Everyone is perishing. Turn to God for mercy. Ask God for deliverance." 

 

With that established, how do we read the passage in Chronicles? We understand that a Christological reading prohibits us from a literalist read that adopts a worldview that Christ already redirected into the gospel image of God. And when there is turmoil in the land, we may certainly ask ourselves, did we somehow cause these tragedies, but we cannot venture to assign blame to God or to the victims of tragedy. But where we see injustice at work, we can acknowledge our complicity, turn back to God and watch how the fruit of our lives changes (whether naturally or supernaturally). 

 

Examples: When the twin towers fell, did God send the planes? When hurricane Katrina hit, did God swamp New Orleans? How about this pandemic? Some have said so. Why would he do that? Obviously to punish America. For what? Televangelists suggested various pet sins that they like to rail on. Their proclamations completely ignore the teachings and revelation of Christ. 

 

Yes, we can ask ourselves, have WE done anything to cause these events? Did WE instigate the kind of hate and desperation that leads to terror? Did WE cut corners that led to collapsing sea walls and dikes? Have WE mishandled COVID by neglecting to love our neighbors as we ought? Perhaps we should turn toward God to ask these questions, change our self-defeating practices and look for mercy. But we don't blame God for directly sending death and we don't sort the righteous from the wicked by measuring who was hit hardest and who got off lucky. And then we look at how these events become occasions for grace. 

 

Where is God in this? He's digging through rubble and hard at work in ICU through people who manifest his love and grace in the world. We partner with his ministry of redemption rather than siding with the accuser of the brethren. We become the change we want to see. And in this way, we fulfill a Christocentric reading of the Chronicles passage. 

 

Blessings!

Brad        

 

Resilience: A Black Woman in America - LaToshia Everson with Brad Jersak (IRPJ)

LaToshia Everson is a Black leader, activist and academic in America. In this interview, she shares her personal experience as a Black woman in America and within an inter-racial marriage. She then carefully defines key terms (whiteness, white fragility, white solidarity, racism, systemic racism, anti-racism, allyship, etc.). She speaks about the #BLM protest movement, love and anger versus hate, nonviolence and Jesus. She guides Brad through some key double binds and finally announces the gospel to the Black community and beyond. Magnificent resource.

A Person of Colour for All Colours: The Scandal of Jesus' Universality & Particularity - Brad Jersak

Jesus of Nazareth was a Jewish person of colour who united himself to people of all colours.

 

As Fr. Kenneth Tanner says, "We can either be scandalized by his universality or his particularity."

 

In his universality, he both transcends colour and unites himself to every and all colours as the every-human.

 

In his particularity, Jesus was neither black nor white. He was specifically a Palestinian Jew--Semitic and so neither European nor African.

 

When I say Jesus was a 'person of colour,' I emphasize his identification with all people of colour who have been excluded or oppressed.

 

But I also cringe at creating an us-them umbrella for Jesus under which all colours are included except white people. White people already made that horrid mistake and I will grieve that to my grave.

 

If the consensus is that white exclusion is the way to make things right, I will take my turn outside the city. Lord knows it's justified. But I've never seen reason to be confident that exclusion creates a just society. So again today, despite what I deserve, I ask for mercy.

 

This same principle of universality and particularity applies to the sexes. Jesus was a single Jewish male who united himself to people of all sexes.

 

In his universality, he transcends sex, sexuality and gender while uniting himself to every human being regardless of their sex, sexuality or gender because again, he is the every-human.

 

In his particular sex, sexuality and gender, Jesus of Nazareth: 

(1) was a biological male,

(2) was asexual in practice, engaged in neither gay nor straight sexual relationships and

(3) exhibited the FULL range of healthy gender traits (masculine & feminine/lion & lamb characteristics).

 

Jesus seems to anticipate his ascended, resurrected state as forever human but transcending sex and sexuality:

 

"At the resurrection, people will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven." Matt. 22:30  

 

So, if the consensus is that male exclusion is the way to make things right, I will take my turn outside the city. Lord knows it's justified. But I've never seen reason to be confident that exclusion creates a just society. So again today, despite what I deserve, I ask for mercy.

 

I think Cherith Nordling said it well,

 

"It's not that in Christ, our particular markers (race, sex, gender, etc) are eradicated or accidental. But transcending them means they no longer have a place of privilege over the other as assigned by the fallen world system. My identity is in Christ, but this is not sameness. Rather, my particular me-ness is my unique contribution and it is to be cherished."

James Finley on Richard Rohr's 'Universal Christ' - Response from Brad Jersak

“Phenomenal cosmic powers … Itty bitty living space.”

—Genie, Disney’s Aladdin

Richard Rohr’s instant classic, The Universal Christ (2019), raised quite a stir by distinguishing the historical Jesus from the “cosmic Christ,” for it seemed to flow in the opposite direction of the apostle John’s insistence that “Jesus IS the Christ.” Indeed, I’ve occasionally flagged that distinction as problematic. 

And then again, much of the pushback Fr. Richard received for his teaching contained more error and less orthodoxy than what his critics thought to oppose. Rather than nitpicking Rohr, I want to hear the treasure in what he’s thoughtfully and prayerfully attempted—I want to perceive with my heart what the Spirit is speaking through the limitations of human thought and words. Said another way, I want to receive the gift of the Incarnation afresh through this friend who exudes it so beautifully.

To do so, I’ll briefly engage with his contemplative colleague, James Finley, in his summary of Rohr’s teaching.¹

So, James begins:          

Our Christian faith does not teach us that God became incarnate in someone named Jesus who lived 2000 years ago. Rathe,r our faith teaches that in the person of Jesus who lived 2000 years ago, it is revealed that God has become incarnate as us—that God’s life and our life are one life and this one life is Christ’s life, a unitive life in which in some essential sense, we and God are not dualistically other than each other.

And this is where Finley and Rohr lose so many of us. Are they denying the Incarnation? Not really, no. Are they denying the uniqueness of Jesus of Nazareth as the “only begotten” Son of God? Not as I’ve come to know Fr. Richard. Rather, they view Jesus as the focal point of this unique revelation: that in Jesus of Nazareth, God the Word (the universal Christ) did more than temporarily borrow a human body to roam around Galilee and die outside Jerusalem. The revelation of Jesus Christ (for I stubbornly combine the two ‘names’ in one person) is that infinite Love is unitive. That is, our Creator is united to all creation, Christ is united to all humanity and infinite Love is united to you. Finley describes this “unitive nature”:    

What’s so key about this understanding of unitive nature—of God’s life being given to us as our own life—is that this oneness with God and life itself is not something that’s been given to us out of the ability to live up to some ideal that we aspire to, some set of moral principles or standard like the law that we’re trying to measure up to.

This should certainly trigger a resounding “Amen” from those who’ve had a taste of grace. The indivisible union of this God of “phenomenal cosmic love” in the “itty bitty living space” of the Virgin’s firstborn baby is the quintessential revelation that this same Love resides in you and “ain’t goin’ nowhere.” It is not sabotaged by our shameful bits or propped up by our grandest achievements…    

To the contrary, in Jesus of Nazareth is revealed that God has freely chosen to become identified with us—unexplainably precious in the midst of our fragility itself. That in some sense, the recognition of our fragility, the recognition of our weakness, the recognition of the unresolved matters of our mind and heart is the condition in which we realize the infinite love of God is infinitely identified with us in the midst of those very issues…

Please remember that the “Incarnation” extends beyond the virginal conception of Jesus or his birth in Bethlehem. The historic Incarnation encompasses the whole of the life of Christ, including his death on the Cross. What does the Cross reveal about the “unitive mystery”? How does it apply to my faith journey today? Forgiveness of sins, for sure. But there’s more:

Another key insight that runs through the heart of our faith is that Jesus says, “Come, follow me” and we discover where he is leading us is the Cross. And what is the Cross in the context of our faith? It is the mysterious process of dying to our dreaded and cherished illusions that anything less or other than an infinite union with infinite love has the authority to name who were are. That is to say, the mystery of the cross is dying to the idolatry of shame, as having authority to name who we are, and it is also simultaneously dying to the authority of virtue or attainment.

You see, the Incarnation reveals that it’s not about how good or bad we’ve been, but that Infinite Love freely chose to identify with us, abide in us and become inextricably woven into the human condition. Christ emptied himself into humanity to raise up humanity with himself—in no way contingent on our performance:  

Because this love is so unexplainably given to us by infinite love, it is a love we are powerless to diminish and we are powerless to increase. It is boundaryless in all directions through and through.

Some have wondered whether Rohr’s Jesus/Christ distinction or “cosmic Christ” revelation makes the Cross unnecessary. Rohr is unequivocal: “Without the Cross, your suffering would be meaningless.” But with the Cross, we see how Christ (perfect Love) co-suffers with all human suffering. Ironically, our embrace of the Cross of Christ means our death but what a gift! Why? 

… this process of this sweet death—of dying to everything less than love is our experiential salvation.

Dying to the idolatry of both shame and achievement reorients us to Infinite Love and now that Love names us. No longer do we know ourselves by what we’ve done or failed to do. Rather, our identity is rooted deeply in Perfect Love’s infinite union with us.

I will take Finley and Rohr’s word as a call to grow a little bit more in love (in Christ) by ‘dying’ a little bit more (to performance). To let my fearful “what ifs” become bold  “even if” faith statements … and ultimately, to fix my eyes and ears on Christ, who “Because Love ____, therefore____.” And to let that be my hymn of hope and praise!    

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[1] James Finley, “On The Universal Christ by Richard Rohr,” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g3yIwHgGaKE.

Institute for Religion Peace & Justice - Check us out!

Institute for Religion, Peace and Justice (St. Stephen's University) – Join us in 2020/21! from IRPJ on Vimeo.

The Institute for Religion, Peace and Justice (St. Stephen's University) is accepting applications for our online, six-course, accredited Certificate program for the fall 2020 semester. This program can be completed in eight months and is for *any* curious and thoughtful person who wants to integrate spiritual and theological considerations with practical peace work, nonviolent activism, peacemaking, and advocacy for either personal enrichment and knowledge acquisition or professional enhancement.

The Certificate is a stand-alone credential that can enhance one's preparation and experience for use in organizations that focus on peace and humanitarian work, including NGOs and non-profits, and as a professional development upgrade.

The Certificate is also a professional enhancement credential for clergy who want to guide their church community in the ways of peace and justice spiritually, theologically, and practically.

For more information, visit irpj.org/certificate To check your eligibility and to apply, visit irpj.org/admissions The Certificate program can also be completed as the online Peace Studies Track of SSU's M.A. or M.Min in Theology & Culture. For more information on this, visit irpj.org/graduate-degrees If you have any questions, please feel free to contact our director, Dr. Andrew Klager — andrewklager@ssu.ca. Or you may wish to visit our FAQs page: irpj.org/faq

The David Moore Interview: This White Guy's Experience - Brad Jersak

On May 29, 2020, as Minneapolis was burning with race riots in the wake of the murder of George Floyd, I was able to interview Dr. David N. Moore. He is an activist, pastor, teacher and the author of Making America Great Again: Fairy Tale? Horror Story? Dream Come True? A Challenge to the Christian Community, An Appeal to the Global Community. 

I want to share briefly about my experience of the interview. I will make it about me. Because that's what I'm prone to do in the midst of other's crises. If you haven't seen the interview, here it is. My reflections follow below the video.

Now, I want to briefly share my experience of the interview. First, as you can tell, I felt awkward. I think that's appropriate right now. I just know we need to wade into hearing the lament of those who are poor in spirit, mourning, hungry and thirsty for justice right now. I'm okay with awkward if that's what NOT "turning from my own flesh and blood" requires (cf. Isaiah 58:6-12). 

Amidst the fear, chaos and flames of the past weeks, I am convinced that hearing the voice of prophetic protest against systems that undergird, generate and justify racism is to hear "the word of the Lord."

At no time did I feel David condemning or shaming me for the colour of my skin. What I heard was what many African Americans feel and what they experience ... that was my agenda coming into the conversation and how David framed what he said. I heard his critiques of "whites" in the context of white supremacy, which I regard as a demonic ideology rooted in fear and practiced as violence. I also recognize the issue more broadly as *whiteness*--not simply the colour of my skin but in terms of racial identity, privilege and bias, consciously practiced or unconsciously assumed. While I do not consciously identify with white supremacy, during the interview, I tried to be vigilant and mindful, watching the mirror for my own blind complicity to racial assumptions, especially by omission.

The conversation prepared me for authentic identificational repentance, where I could genuinely say, "I am so sorry. WE have sinned." I think of the prophet Daniel's confession in Daniel 9:5 as an act of vicarious national repentance and Jesus' undergoing John's "baptism of repentance" as an act of vicarious sin-bearing confession and cleansing. Identifying my participation in and contribution to the problem (even in silence) led me to mean what I said. I AM sorry. WE have sinned.

Although David is an empowered man, a serious academic and an effective shepherd, I wanted to hear him in this moment of fresh lament, because I believe our first order of business as Christ-followers is co-suffering love with those who've had a knee on their neck for many centuries. I want to discern the lament communicated in David's quiet and thoughtful voice and also beneath and above and through the outrage that takes desperate people to the streets. And I want to say that I don't like looting or vandalism, but surely we can see the asymmetry between that reaction and its chronic backstory of lynching and murder. 

All that to say, David gently enabled me to feel real grief for the African-American community rather than shaming me for the unearned advantages I enjoy as an accident of my pigment. He also suggested ways for me to avoid becoming the hateful monster I want to overcome. I am still meditating on the important implications of his advice to "speak out against injustice without thinking that to do so is being extreme." And as my sons have modeled for me, pushing back at the darkness starts where we're most vulnerable to it: flagging moments with our own friends and family when they think private racial slurs are acceptable.  

 

IRPJ.org presents: Racism, Fear & a Disorder of Territoriality - Dr. David N. Moore w/ Brad Jersak

Brad Jersak interviews activist, pastor, teacher, Dr. David N. Moore. He is the author of Making America Great Again: Fairy Tale? Horror Story? Dream Come True?

David and Brad discuss racism in America, the fears that drive it, the "disorder of territoriality" and the asymmetry of racial protests. How do we avoid becoming the very monster we oppose.

"I noticed similarities between my experience and those of survivors of abuse, especially with reference to their need to tell their story, and thereby reclaim their lives. Having lived most of my life in the world of white Christians, feeling unheard on matters of race and empire, this book is an important part of my personal journey towards forgiveness and even, in some cases, hope for reconciliation."