Monday, May 22, 2017

Reexamining Youth

It’s interesting to me that at this point in my life, I am in my early 30s, that I still get told how young I am on a regular basis. As an older Millennial, which I guess is what I am generationally speaking, I imagined a very different experience of my life in ministry. The ministers I grew up learning from were Boomers or early Gen-Xers. When I think about their stories of going into ministry, they are very different from the path on which I find myself. While the point of this post is not for me to number and lament my struggles in finding full-time service in the Church, I do want to say that it has been a significant struggle. I know I’m not alone in trying to find my place, as many of the ministers of my generation express the same struggles, but I think our generation is encountering obstacles unique to our current social context.

In early March, the Barna group released a study on the average age of Protestant ministers in America. This most recent study was a follow-up to research done by George Barna in the early 90s, and the results depicting how the average senior pastor is significantly older now than just two decades ago is striking. In less than a generation, the average age of a senior pastor has gone up by ten years, but that is not the only striking revelation. The percentages of pastors over the age of 55 has doubled while the numbers for those under 50 has shrank by half. In one sense, this is not surprising. The Church as a whole is aging, and to find that such aging extends to the pulpit should not be that surprising. If fewer adults of younger demographics are coming to our churches, then it makes sense that there would be fewer of those same people entering the ranks of the clergy. It also explains why the Church has a difficult time trying to figure out how to communicate to those same groups. 

One thing I would like to highlight, though, is from my own experience that while anecdotal, I don’t believe that is so unique that it should be excluded from the conversation. My wife and I both feel called to pastoral ministry, and have diligently pursued trying to find places for us to serve. However, there is very little response to us, which again is not unique. If you ask any ministry who has tried to reach out and communicate with congregations, stories abound of those congregations taking your information and never contacting you again. What is disheartening, though, is when a well-meaning mentor, or more likely a well-meaning older congregant, tell you, “You shouldn’t get so worried. You are both young and have a long time ahead of you.” While I know that people are trying to encourage us to continue striving for the thing God has called us to, it is EXTREMELY patronizing to hear. 

While I don’t think of myself as someone who is going to change the world, because if you look at the number of people who read this blog it’s obvious no one really wants to hear what I think, I am reminded of some historical people who were much younger than I and in the midst of amazing ministries. At 26, Martin Luther King Jr. was senior pastor of Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery, AL. At 30, George S. Truett was called as pastor of First Baptist Church in Dallas. At 19, C.H. Spurgeon was called to his first pastorate of New Park Street Chapel, and at 27 that church became The Metropolitan Tabernacle. At 32, Carlyle Marney was called to First Baptist Church of Austin, TX, and that was his third pastorate. 

Again, I know I am none of these men, and it should be noted that they are all men which could be the subject of another post. However, the point I’m getting at is in this moment, the churches they served would never call them. Each was highly educated and credentialed before they arrived at these positions, but that doesn’t matter. I have friends and acquaintances with their doctorates who still feel looked down upon for their age. It is said that we want our pastors to be 40 years-old with 30 years of experience. 

What has changed that we view youth and age so differently now?

How old does one have to be in order to be seen as an adult in their own right?

Generational conflicts abound, and so I don’t want to pile onto what is already a very heated discussion. However, there does need to be a shift in what we recognize as an age when someone is fully responsible of leadership in the Church. In order to do that, we need to recognize that such a benchmark has shifted dramatically in such a short amount of time. It is as if one is not fully capable of being a leader in our current church context until they reach middle age. 

Christians, especially, should be pushing back against this. Our Scriptures are filled with examples of young people leading in the power of the Holy Spirit. Paul exhorts Timothy to not let people put him down because of his youth. The prophets, and Jesus, tell of a coming time with it will be the young who prophesy and lead the people of God. 

Maybe, this is not that time, and so we need to have an ever-aging clergy, and laity, lead the Church. 


Or maybe, with a Church that is aging, we need the young leaders to help us find a new way.

Thursday, May 11, 2017

On Loving Numbers More Than People

                                                                          Photo courtesy of My 2nd Heartbeat

With all the talk of polarization in our current climate, there are innumerable conversations focused around the most effective tactics to persuade others. Roughly, they can be divided into two camps, though such dividing is of course problematic but this is only a blog post. Namely, those two camps are “emotional stories” and “statistical analysis.” The best communicators can mix-and-match these two streams together in order to engage people from multiple directions. Everyone from politicians, to ministers, to people sitting in the coffeeshop are in some fashion engaging these topics from the perspective of coaxing emotional responses or trying to logically refute arguments. I would like to focus on the logical side, which seems to engage economic reasoning and data to support the necessity of serving the disadvantaged (around healthcare, taxes, social services, race/ethnicity, and poverty) in our society. 

In such conversations, the discipline of economics has become a major rhetorical device. Economic analysis is used to support social safety net programs, healthcare reform, foreign policy, personal decisions, racial reconciliation, LGBTQ anti-discrimination policies, education, and just about every other social conversation taking place in the public sphere. The influence of economic rationales are seeping into every facet of our lives as try to find a rigidly analytical way to respond to the obstacles of our daily existence. Using podcast “Freakonomics” as an example, we are creating for ourselves a market society. One in which every discussion and decision must be measured by market impacts and rationales. 

Part of the reason for this comes from an understanding that economics are a “values neutral” systems. For generations, the study of economics has been explained as an extension of hard science. It’s reliance upon modeling and equations is used as justification and support for its impartiality. 

Economics doesn’t care about your race.

Economics doesn’t care about your politics.

Economics doesn’t consider your religion.

Economics doesn’t take into account your personality.

However, this isn’t true. Over the past few years there has been an explosion in the number of economists and philosophers who have started to push back against this ascension of our understanding of economics. People like Michael Sandel are beginning to question this “values neutral” assumption and question whether creating a market society is a good thing. According to Sandel, it’s one thing to have a market economy, which sees the market as a tool, and another to create a market society where every component of culture is given a value. It’s interesting reading if for no other reason than it asks questions of our current debates around the effectiveness of market thinking. There are also great discussions about the history of economics and how it comes from philosophy, not natural science. (But that is something a historian or a philosopher should write about.)

I tend to agree with Sandel that there are limits to where economic thought should impact our moral judgments. I can not assent to the idea that everything has a monetary value fixed to it. For instance, education. As education increasingly becomes seen as nothing more than a vehicle to financial gain, disciplines are then valued on their ability to get you a good paying job. Then a business degree becomes more “valuable” than a degree in the humanities. I must say that technically, religion degrees are part of the humanities, and I have two of those, so I am biased for the humanities. But I don’t think it is a stretch to say that we have come to a point in our collective experience where we focus on the worth of education to get your employment more than we value education for enrichment. 

But this conversation needs to extend into our response to social issues. The Rev. William Barber, of whom I am an unabashed fan-boy, uses economic data in sermons to support the need for expanded social engagement. When you hear it, it is extremely compelling, but there is a question in the back of my mind.

Why do numbers count more than the fact that they are people?

As a Christian, and especially as a Baptist who says, “there is no creed buy Scripture,” shouldn’t the teachings of my faith spur my action? 

Though the verse is used so much, and misapplied so often, John 3:16 should have some sway. “For God so loved the world…” The Gospels tell us that the main impetus for Jesus’ teaching, and his mere presence, is because God was moved by love for the world. 

It says nothing about the economic data of 1st century Palestine. 

Nothing of the benefits of healthcare on impoverished Jewish populations.

No numbers for those who would benefit the most from God’s action.

Just that God loves the world, and thus sends Jesus to save the world. (John 3:17)

I believe it says something about us that we need the numbers and evidence to spur our social responses. The need for hard data suggests that we do not recognize the inherent humanity of suffering people, and therefore are not moved to action because of our love. I hear you though. 

“Of course we don’t love like God. Just look at the world we live in with all of its suffering.”

And to that I respond. “Instead, as he who called you is holy, be holy yourselves in all your conduct; for it is written, ‘you shall be holy, for I AM holy.’” 1 Peter 1:15-16

We may not be God, but we are supposed to try. That means we should be moved not because we have hard mathematical evidence of what we are doing, but because we are called of God to do as God has done. It may be a little idealistic, or very idealistic, but the Scripture itself is an ideal. One that we are supposed to live up to.

My last thought, don’t think of this as trying to shame you into responding. After years of the ASPCA playing that same add with Sarah McLachlan’s song in the background. I don’t think we have any shame left. It’s all been pulled out.


Instead, be filled with love. 

Look into the eyes of another, and see the humanity staring back at you.

Thursday, May 4, 2017

Jim Wallis, Jerry Falwell, and American Christianity's Love Affair with Wealth

                                 Jim Wallis Courtesy of RedLetterChristians.org              Jerry Falwell courtesy of Liberty University


Yesterday, Jim Wallis, the founder of Sojourners, wrote an article in response to Jerry Falwell Jr.’s statements about President Donald Trump, specifically where Falwell said that evangelicals, “have found their dream President.” The article from Wallis takes the Liberty University president to task on his position; focusing on how easily Trump’s multiple marriages, infidelities, charges of alleged racism and alleged illegal action were forgiven by the 81% of white evangelicals who voted for the Republican candidate. As is typical if you have been reading Jim Wallis’ work, he makes sure to highlight the racist implications of the President’s policies and choices, and ties Falwell to these racially discriminatory underpinnings while simultaneously reminding us of the racist inheritance that comes from Jerry Falwell Sr. 

While I will in no way question, or in anyway mitigate, the unconscious (or conscious) racism at play in American society, there is another influence on white Evangelical America’s choice of supporting Donald J. Trump. It’s roots go back to at least the 1930s, though I would bet there are indications of it earlier in our religious history. It’s how white evangelicalism in America has propped up and bowed down to wealthy white men and celebrated them as captains of industry, regardless of the means by which they came to their wealth. My thoughts are drawn from two books published in the last couple of years. 

One Nation Under God: How Corporate America Created Christian America,” by Keven Kruse, and, “The Blessings of Business: How Corporations Shaped Conservative Christianity,” by Darren Grem, take different paths toward a similar thesis. Namely, that it was a wedding of corporate money with conservative, individualistic theology that created modern evangelicalism and its political influence on American society. Both books make a point of highlighting how the careers of well-known evangelical leaders, such as Billy Graham, were influenced and financed by powerful business owners.

While not exactly a “prosperity gospel,” the authors discuss how the works of evangelicals, who were all benefitting through their connections to big business, uniformly preached that the successful business owner is the only person positioned by God to know how best to address social concerns. Our current context, where evangelicals voted for a “billionaire” in such large numbers is a continuation of the work started during the depths of the Great Depression. There are still those, such as Jerry Falwell Jr., who will support the idea that success in business is the result of someone rightly aligned with the will of God. 

Kruse and Grem both draw a line from the conservative Christians and business leaders of the 1930s to the Moral Majority of the 1980s and the election of Ronald Reagan. The choice to vote for Trump in 2016 is not that much different than the evangelical vote for Regan, a casual church-goer on his second marriage. It’s not as if all of a sudden white evangelical Christians have forgotten their morals in order to elect a social messiah. They have done it before, but this time their choice is one decidedly more brash. In 1981, when Jimmy Carter, a devoted Baptist Sunday School teacher and the first politician known to have talked about being “born again,” was leaving the White House on Inauguration Day, Jerry Falwell Sr. said in an interview, “Finally, we have a Christian in the White House.” Supposedly, that was the only negative thing said about President Carter that actually affected him. 

I don’t dispute Wallis’ assertion that white America has yet to fully grapple with its racist inheritance. But I think there was another unconscious bias at work in the 2016 election, as well as the continued support of President Trump. White evangelicals love wealth and power. They are very quickly to connect wealthy individuals to kings from the Old Testament, while consistently failing to remember the failings of those very same kings. David and Solomon are great examples to hold up, as long as you don’t talk about the rape, adultery, and idolatry that are a part of their Biblical narratives. 

It seems Evangelical Christians would rather have their eye dazzled than have poor people receive healthcare.

They would rather “Ooo,” and “Ahhh” at gold leaf everywhere than see hungry children fed in school.

They would rather ride in fancy helicopters and private planes than have a livable Earth to walk barefoot upon.


It’s not new, Mr. Wallis. White Evangelical America has been holding up people like Trump for almost 80 years.