“The person who knows only one religion, knows none”
Have you ever found yourself longing for a more tangible spirituality? Have you dabbled in practices that help you feel more physically in tune with God? Some of us need something more tangible and physical for our spirituality to come alive.
In this post, Ken explores what it might look like to employ a more touch-centered approach to spirituality, worship, study, and discipleship.
The other day I was spending some time with a friend who is in human resources at a major recreation company. As we talked about his experience and training he reminded me of an important principle: diversity and inclusion are not one and the same.
While we often hear them together, and they are related, diversity and inclusion each have their own meanings and applications. Understanding the difference can help churches build a more welcoming, all-embracing, and multi-ethnic church.
Currently, the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod (the LCMS, the church I’m part of) is one of the least diverse religious groups in the U.S.
While the nation’s overall population is growing more racially and ethnically diverse – and so are many of its religious groups — the LCMS is not anywhere near keeping pace. Among the Pew Research Center’s recent survey of 30 different religious groups, the LCMS ranked 28th in terms of racial and ethnic diversity (among five racial groups: Latina/os, non-Latina/o whites, blacks, Asians, and an umbrella group titled “mixed-race”). In other words, we are overwhelming, homogeneously, white.
Photo: LCEF's Leader-to-Leader Blog
Whether it’s the long lines at the post office that are making you angry, the pain from the loss of a loved one last year that lingers, or the stress of putting together the perfect plan for your Christmas party, worship service, or program it can be hard to have fun at Christmas.
And yet, one of the promises of the good news of Christmas is that it can, and should, be fun.
Even so, Christians are too often known for sucking the joy out of the celebrations this time of year. Leading up to Christmas, we can be better known for tension than trimmings, for freaking out rather than reaching out, for anger rather than anticipation.
The invitation to both leaders and laity this season is to let go of the everlasting burden of being so serious, sullen, and always trying to sound so profound.
On Nov. 8 you will sin. I guarantee it. Especially if you’re planning on voting, or already have voted, there’s a 100% chance of sin being involved.
As human beings, created by God, we are called to participate in the political system of our community. This is part of the “cultural imperative” given to us in Genesis 1:28. We are called to live in, co-create, and engage our community — at the international, national, regional, state, local, and familial level. Sometimes, we are called to make tough decisions that affect the politics of our community.
Such as: does the toilet paper go up and over or down and under? Those of you who navigate the politics of a household know this is a political decision, one that has ramifications far into the future.
I say this not to make light of political decisions — like voting — but to call to our attention the necessity to hold these political deliberations in proper perspective and to diagnose them for what they are in light of God’s reign over all things.
Those with faith in God have been wrestling with the politics of living together in a fallen world since, well, the world fell into sin. Throughout human history God-fearing individuals and communities sought to know God’s will for their nation, their empire, their city, their family. At times, Jesus followers and God’s chosen leaders made wonderful decisions that led to breakthroughs in liberty, freedom, and justice. Other times, not so much. Still other times, they sinned gravely and were on the wrong side of justice, freedom, and liberation.
When we head to the voting booth on November 8 or send in our ballot by mail, we will enter into this long tradition of deciding.
Before you do, know this...
Join Ken in NOLA for the LCMS NYG!
Too many acronyms? Let's break it down. Ken will be speaking in New Orleans (NOLA) for the Lutheran Church - Missouri Synod's (LCMS) National Youth Gathering (NYG) from July 17-19, 2016.
Having been a part of the last few NYGs as a participant, volunteer, and speaker Ken is excited to return for the 2016 edition to speak on two topics close to his heart: faith and popular culture and Islam!
Here are the sessions Ken will be leading. Both will be interactive sessions that will invite participants to engage with questions, comments, and reactions to the topic. If you're in town for the gathering, be sure to come and check them out:
Fresh from a breakfast of piping hot spaghetti on toast and loud laughs, the employees at Joyclas Farms headed back to work for the day on the New Zealand dairy farm. There was important work to be done.
The smell of sweet silage hung in the air and the strikingly iridescent grass of the paddocks shone in the early morning sun. We drove past a patch of turf that was unwieldy and overgrown. As yet jejune in my dairy farming apprenticeship, having grown up in the Los Angeles area, I wondered aloud why this pasture was different than all the rest.
“That field is lying fallow,” said Lawrence, one of the farm’s owners. “It will be rich for the heifers to enjoy next season.”
Leaving a field to lie fallow means leaving a paddock to be unseeded, uneaten, and unspoiled for a season or more. It is one of the best ways farmers can allow the land to replenish its nutrients and regain its fertility. It also helps prevent erosion — the roots of the plants left free to grow help to hold the soil in place against the ravages of wind and rain.
When fallow, the field is at rest so that it can serve its function to feed the heifers for years to come.
Just as fields need to lie fallow, so does all creation — including us. In a world that is rife with addiction to busyness, it is imperative that we rediscover the lost art of re-creative rest.
Is it slick worship slides? Well-dressed families? Stunning stained glass? Perfect pews? High-quality music? Good looking and well-respected members of the community?
What if your church uses old hymnals? What if the families are broken? What if the walls are sullied and the seating busted? What if the organ is out of tune or the soprano squeaky? What if your people are less than perfect and their lives a bit messed up? What if you don’t like your church?
The church isn’t beautiful because of its position in society or its pretty facilities, families or frills. The church is beautiful because of what God is doing in, through and with it.
It's Friday night. You walk down to your neighborhood pub for a couple of pints and to listen to some live music. As you settle onto your stool and order a hop-fresh IPA or a crisp kölsch the tunes start. You recognize the song and start to sing along. Is it a top-40 hit? Kind of...but from 1664. It's "My song is love unknown" originally written by Samuel Crossman and performed and arranged by New York based artist Blake Flattley.
Flattley has been performing and singing for over a decade and says he loves three things: a great song, a great drink, and spending time with great people. "Why not have all of them in one place?" he asked. So was born the idea of the "'There Will be Rest' Pub-Sing-a-Long Tour."
Releasing his newest album, "There Will Be Rest" -- a collection of re-arranged hymns and original music -- earlier this year, Flattley is now raising funds to host a series of pub-sing-a-longs all over the U.S. in celebration. He said, "the idea is this: we gather together in local pubs, sing some hymns, enjoy some great beer and hear some of my songs that you may be familiar with." The key is getting people in cities across the U.S. to support the tour. Flattley launched a Kickstarter campaign to get him across the nation.
Below is an interview with Flattley about his music, his motivations, and his . You should definitely check out his music and consider having him to come to your favorite watering hole for a sing-a-long and some suds for as little as $5!
I've been playing in clubs for a long time, and now, though I'm still playing clubs, I've been playing in a lot more churches outside of my own. I kept getting the question, "which of these cds have the music you just played during the service?" and the answer was none. Eventually, I had enough people ask and the timing was right. I'd been in New York City working with my church for about two years, and I connected with some fantastic musicians. It was a strange thing, I would throw out a musical reference and get a response back of, "I've played with them"(Sufjan Stevens, The Welcome Wagon, The Lone Bellow).
Once I set to work choosing the songs for the record, the theme really flowed out of my experiences in New York. The mantra of most New Yorkers seems to be that they are tired and busy. Not busy like most, where they say they are busy almost as some sort of status symbol. New Yorkers are busy because the rent is high and they have to take every gig they can to make ends meet. Its a matter of being able to make it. The title and title track, "There Will Be Rest", flowed out of that. I wanted to create a record that both sonically, and lyrically, embraced that theme.
I like the idea of a pub sing because it in some ways unites my two worlds. There's also the folklore behind so many great hymns about how they were written with bar tunes and then brought into the church. Though that is largely believed to be myth, I still like the concept. I don't want to take myself too seriously, and I like singing with people and enjoying their company over a good beer so, why not?
We'll gather together in local pubs and for about the first forty five minutes we'll sing some great hymns. I'll invite some of my friends along the way to join in with leading the singing. I'm putting together, essentially a digital lyric sheet for everyone, so if they don't know the hymn, they can pull out their phone and scroll through the lyrics. During the second set of the night I'm planning to sing some more of my arrangements as well as some original music that people will still be encouraged to sing along with. To be clear, it won't be a church service.
I'll be kicking off the tour in January, heading out to the North West and then kind of bouncing around the country from there. I'm planning to essentially head anywhere there is a critical mass of people who show they are interested by supporting the kickstarter campaign. My thought is to head to Texas, California, Arizona, maybe the midwest and then of course a few East Coast dates.
Really, anyone that wants to sing and have a good time. I don't want to shut down the pub but instead, sing with those that are there. Some people may not be into it and that's ok.
It's interesting, I thought I was carefully splitting up my "religious" songs from my "secular" songs but once I started mingling them, I realized they're not all that different. One of my main goals as an artist is simply to make good art that explores the human experience. Religion is a part of that.
I'm the director of worship and arts at Our Saviour New York. We're a church of two parishes, one in Queens and one in Midtown Manhattan. We do a ton with local artists, sponsoring songwriter rounds, holding artist showcases for storytellers, bands, comedians and we just recently started exhibiting visual art. We love to engage with our community and experience what they're creating and to see how we can support and encourage them. I also play a lot throughout the city at various venues, not typically singing hymns. In addition to all of that, I've got some new musical projects in the works, but its still a bit too early to get specific.
This project was really just an idea that I thought would be fun. A kind of experiment.
I think for many people going to church is weird. Not in the sense that the experience is weird but they feel a weight of expectation. To perform in some way. A pub doesn't come with the same expectations. People can be a little bit more who they really are. You can hopefully do that at church as well but it just takes some folks a little longer.
Its funny, the other day I went to Trader Joe's and they have the option to fill a six pack with whatever loose beers that they have. When I got home and was loading them in the fridge I realized that for every beer I had purchased I could remember who had introduced me to it. That being said, my favorite beer currently, I actually first got to try thanks to you, Sixpoint's Bengali Tiger (we also currently have this on tap at OSNY).
Speaking of favorites. Have people tweet at me with their favorite hymn @BlakeFlattley
What do you do when the deuces hit the air ducts? Sometimes, things don't go according to plan. In those moments of crisis it's easy to curl up into a little ball or overreact and cause more fallout.
How can leaders navigate a time of crisis with their church, organization, or community? Here are three axioms -- timeless truths -- from seasoned leaders to help you chart the course.
People. Need. Grace.
Period.
Walk into your church. Step out into the streets. You will find people hurting. Limping along in life. Struggling to understand, and seek out, faith, love, and hope in the midst of the problems of pain, death, and the tension between what is and what ought to be in this world.
In Sterling Heights, Michigan the battle over the proposed construction of a mosque precipitated religious and cultural tension between Christians and Muslims. The UN reported that Christian militias are engaged in ethnic cleansing of Muslims in an ongoing Central African Republic civil war. At the same time, over the previous weekend (October 11, 2015) after hearing about armed protests scheduled to take place around mosques throughout the U.S., hundreds came out to rally around their Muslim neighbors in support.
In the midst of all these headlines, I had the pleasure of talking with Michal. She is doing inspiring peacemaking work with Christians and Muslims. She wrote of her calling, “I'm passionate about helping local churches effectively interact with the Muslim community around them; overcoming stereotypes/fears/misunderstandings, share faith and work together for the common good. I do this through my PhD research, the many grassroots events I organize with Muslims and Christians in California, and the documentaries I'm working on.”
While her work is primarily in Southern California, the impact is global. Michal, and her Muslim friend and partner Sondos — who together maintain the site MissUnderstanding.co — are confident that what they do is a significant part of the peacemaking process across the world.
One of the many projects Michal and Sondos are working on is the “People of Peace Documentary.” The project is about Muslims and Christians learning what it means to become friends while staying true to their faith.
In the clip above, twelve Christians visit a local mosque to learn more about their Muslim neighbors. They are paired with a Muslim their age and gender to talk about what their faith means to them. The goal is to talk candidly and openly about any subject.
Interacting with someone from another religion on their terms and at their place of worship or practice is one of the best avenues for better understanding and increased dialogue between people of disparate faiths. Such experiences “re-humanize” the religious “other” more than a lecture, a book, or even an in-class discussion. Beyond learning, students are then able to identify with the religious “other.”
As Yehezkel Landau wrote, “We need to develop educational strategies to overcome the ignorance that leads to prejudice, which in turn leads to dehumanizing contempt, which in turn breeds violence.” Friendships between people of different religious persuasions are not only personally fulfilling, but educationally efficacious and potentially life-changing. Sometimes, people talk just once. Other times, they make lifelong friends and change the world together.
Watch the video to find out more and to consider a program like it with your local masjid or church communities.
*This is a guest post from Michal. Together with her friend Sondos the pair post on the site MissUnderstanding: Two Faiths, One Friendship. The blog is, "a space where Michal and Sondos will post their reflections — independently and jointly — on what it means to be a practicing Christian and practicing Muslim while building a foundation of mutual respect and understanding." Reading through their reflections, their honest musings, and personal lessons is refreshing. It challenges individuals on all sides -- believing or not, liberal or conservative -- to consider what it means to build relationships across religious and social boundaries to find something beautiful and more fulfilling than what the popular, but misplaced, "us v. them" divides often do.
That theme is a regular motif on this site. Thus, I invited Michal to repost a guest blog for this site, in which she talks about "what is ours to do?" when we see/hear disparaging news from the Middle East, which is unfortunately so relevant amidst news from Syria, Iraq, Palestine, Yemen, and elsewhere. Thank you Michal.
Michal and Sondos of MissUnderstanding.co
Watching the news about the Middle East each day is overwhelming, to say the least. Muslims and Christians (and many other groups!) face death, loss of family and friends, property and dignity. The suffering and pain is indescribable. Several close friends in the region are doing very brave work providing in medical, educational and spiritual help wherever they can. The work is overwhelming, but they push on and make a difference. I am very inspired by them.
So much so that I have strongly contemplating leaving my life in the US to join them. I especially wanted to help refugee kids like in the picture above that I used for a research project on Syrian children. Part of that desire was coming out of a growing love in my heart and another was coming out of guilt. I felt bad for my comfortable life in the West and wanted to do what my friends did in the Middle East.
However, upon praying and investigating it further, I did not get confirmation from God that it was my time to go. It is clear that He has work for me to do here in the West right now. Still, I couldn’t help feeling disappointed and unsure what I needed to do with the strong urge to want to do something.
I shared my feeling of helplessness with my friends in the region and they assured me that I could definitely help. Here are three things they suggested:
First off, they asked for prayer. God can do things we think are impossible! A second would be to get educated. They advised me to read from different sources about what is going on and seek to get a first-hand account from people that are living in the region. Lastly would be to support organizations that do great work in the area. Many of them are extremely underfunded. I prefer to focus on organizations that do not only help their own faith community, but anyone and everyone that is in need.
One such organization is Preemptive Love. They provide heart-surgeries, refugee relief and business development for Iraqis, Syrians, Libyans, Pakistanis and on and on. My favorite part is that they have wonderful stories of Muslims and Christians working together for peace and healing, stories that are often not heard in mainstream media.
The funny thing is that these hopeful stories encourage me in my work of peacemaking in the US. If Muslims and Christians can make peace with each other right in ISIS’s backyard, what is stopping us?
We cannot all go to the Middle East and help out, although I pray many will and I can go one day as well. However, we are all shaped uniquely and can all help in a small, yet still very significant way. It starts with one courageous prayer a mentor of mine taught me to pray… we ask God: "What is mine to do?"
'Pastrix' Nadia Bolz-Weber offers up a vision of the Christian community that is marred, scarred, and full of murderous mercy. (Photo: YouTube capture)
Exhausted from a double-header of liturgy and preaching, Caleb came running up to hand me his Sunday-school artwork. It was a mosaic. Of sorts. He had attempted to craft a paper-maché and mixed media mosaic of the loaves and two fishes from the Tabgha chapel in the Sea of Galilee region in Israel.
Let us, to say the least, admit that Caleb is no Da Vinci. Perhaps more of a Picasso, but no classical artist for sure. The elementary mosaic had glue in all the wrong places, empty spaces, and roughly cut pictures of random loaves and cartoon fish.
Fine art it was not. But it was beautiful.
Like the Christian church itself it was muddled, misshapen, and makeshift. Naturally, I loved it for what it was and cherished it for what it represented for me — the fluky, flailing, and often times frightful church I find myself a part of.
In her latest book — Accidental Saints: Finding God in All the Wrong People — Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber has written a story of her church, and the Church, that is raw, honest, and full of grace in all its visceral glory. If her last work, Pastrix, was her personal narrative told through life in community at House for All Sinners and Saints (HFASS) — the church she planted in Denver, CO — then Accidental Saints is the story of that community told through the personal lens of its “pastrix," Nadia Bolz-Weber.
What Bolz-Weber reveals is challenging, gender-bending, and boundary breaking for those with stricter, or more conventional, conceptions of why the Church exists, what it is, and who is part of it.
It is the story of saints who don’t quite fit the conformist molds and the account of their pastor who is broken, grace-filled, and transparent as she wrestles with God’s favor poured out on unlikely individuals and blessing coming through unorthodox benefactors.
That’s because, for Bolz-Weber, ‘saints’ = people who have accidentally stumbled into redemption. She wrote that all of us can, and in many ways already are, saints. In what can be the closest thing to an evangelistic appeal from Bolz-Weber, she said, “God wants you, you in your imperfect, broken, shimmering, glory.”
Grace is the central theme of Bolz-Weber’s work; but it ain’t your grandmother’s grace. Claiming she is “not bound by legalism and shame” Bolz-Weber proclaims “the freedom of a Christian” that is found in a grace-filled community of brokenness, imperfection, and stumbling, bumbling, inefficient, healing.
She talks about “the sting of grace.”
“It’s powerful, but it’s offensive at the same time, because it’s not fair, and it doesn’t work into our notions of justice. It changes us, and it’s what we need, but it doesn’t mean it feels good,” she said.
Reflecting on the book, Bolz-Weber added, “what I hope is that people would read this book and see [the glory of God in the midst of our crap] and realize how transformative it can be.”
Of course, this grace cannot be experienced outside of community. And community is central to the story of Bolz-Weber and HFASS. She said, “the beautiful, radical grace that flows from the heart of God to God’s broken and blessed humanity” is impossible outside community.
With that said, Bolz-Weber categorically does not offer up HFASS as a shining example for others to follow, nor does she want onlookers or spiritual tourists banging on her church’s door. Instead, she offers up the stories of her community of fractured selves as an example in radical, grace-filled, failure. She said, “I think we’re in a time in the life of the church where stories of failure are so much more important than stories of success.”
Why? Because that’s where resurrection comes in. Sometimes it comes like a beautiful song, other times like a brick through a window. Bolz-Weber said plainly that sometimes, “God’s mercy is a blunt instrument…the kind that kills the thing that wronged it and resurrects something new in its place.”
As far as the potential “unorthodoxy” of her views and the condemnation that comes from many corners of evangelicalism, and her own Lutheran tribe, she doesn’t seem too flustered. Instead, she marches boldly on in “Christian freedom” and doesn’t worry about the haters. Affirming that she is categorically not “a Christian apologist” Bolz-Weber is just doing her thing. All the while, she claims herself as a “pretty orthodox Lutheran theologian.”
Even so, she said, “Belief is going to be influenced by all sorts of things that I have nothing to do with, so I don’t feel responsible for that. I’m responsible for what [people] hear…the Gospel.”
For that matter, she sees herself as just another “accidental saint” with flaws, inoperative parts, and regular failures. If people get pissed about her colored language or her unusual take on things, so be it. Let the naysayers call her a sinner, a heretic, a pastrix. “I think that God’s work in the world is and has always been done through sinners,” she said.
She closed, “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
As many of you know, I started my service as an ordained Lutheran pastor in June. While I am nowhere near "burnout" I have been challenged, and comforted, in my early days as a minister by reading That Their Work May be a Joy: Understanding and Coping with the Challenges of Pastoral Ministry by personal friend/mentor Kurt Fredrickson and his colleague Cameron Lee.
Reflecting on their work and hearing news from friends and family from around the world of professional ministry I wrote a post this week on FIVE WAYS that congregations can avoid seeing their pastors and leaders burnout before they are able to bless the community.
This message starts with "mu shu" pork & ends with pig races. One story reveals hospitality and friendship. The other hostility and ill feeling. In between, it's about why Christians must take the steps to build relationships with our Muslim neighbors, what basis that has in Scripture, and how fostering a posture of friendly, conversational, and cooperative engagement with Muslims is absolutely central to the work of the church in this historical moment.
Thanks to CrossPoint Community Church, MAS Katy, and my friends for the opportunity to speak, share these stories, and be a part of such an important conversation.
If you know me at all, you know that I love Muslims.
Really, with all my heart. And not in some kumbayá-lets-all-get-along or orientalist-fascinated-with-the-middle-east-dancing-around-in-a-fez type of way.
I love Muslims because many of them I count as friends -- from Amman, Jordan to Miami, U.S.A. from Rakai, Uganda to San Juan, Puerto Rico, and everywhere in between. My Muslims friends have shown me immense hospitality in their homes, forgiveness when I offer them pork when we are eating out, and insight into their social situations in my many years of conversations, meals, and moments of exchange with them.
That's why I'm fed up with Islamophobia.
It's time for a 'radical' response to the irrational fear that too often grips our fascinations, is broadcasted on our televisions, and pushed from our pulpits.
I know. I know. 'Islamophobia' is a charged word. There are problems with using such labels. And yes, we need to love those we deem, 'Islamophobic' as well. And I do. At least I try.
But in the face of constant vitriol being thrown at my Muslim friends and a natural proclivity for 'us' to turn against 'them' (whoever the 'them' in vogue might be) I am proposing a 'radical' response to Islamophobia.
Sojourners Magazine was kind enough to carry my piece where I lay out the WHY, the WHAT, and the HOW of the necessity of a Christian response to Islamophobia. For this week and this week only you can get behind their paywall and read the full essay. Seriously, go check it out.
Pronto. The world can't wait. Nor should you.
Peace.
-Ken
“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven….a time to keep silence and a time to speak.”
In our live-tweeting, news breaking, first-to-be blogging culture it can prove a hard environment to cultivate silence and solitude. No greater is this the case than when there is some sort of crisis — real or perceived — or when we are faced with a momentous opportunity.
Often, leaders in the church are hasty to speak up and speak out on major issues in our church, our city, or our country. We are quick to condemn the things we disagree with or are uncomfortable with and swift to support those decisions or occasions where our values are seemingly upheld or enacted.
Yet, we leaders would do well to contemplate the words of the author of Ecclesiastes above and Catholic contemplative Henri Nouwen who said, “As ministers our greatest temptation is toward too many words…but silence is a sacred discipline, a guard of the Holy Spirit.”
As I wrote in a previous post, the U.S. has witnessed a stunning religious transformation over the last 40 years and Christians are struggling to adjust.
Today, there are 1,700 federally recognized religious bodies in the U.S., 600 of which are non-Christian and just last week Pew Research Center reported how Christianity’s share of the U.S. population is steadily decreasing with more Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims, and “nones” emerging on the American religious marketplace.
Faced with questions, fears, and honest desires to adapt, learn, and be hospitable toward their neighbors of other religious perspectives most congregations opt for a world religions “Bible” study. The vast majority of these studies are amateurish at best. While most leaders of these studies start with the intention to help their parishioners learn more about the world’s religions, the way they go about it usually leads to nominally increased religious literacy. Even worse, these studies often exacerbate pre-existing prejudices or presuppositions about those religious studied.
In place of these studies I suggest the following three practical means of learning more about your neighbors of different religions.
That’s right. I’m gettin’ ordained. Gator-style.
To all of my friends, family, and supporters:
On Sunday April 19, 2015 First Lutheran Church (Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod) in Gainesville, FL voted unanimously to extend a call to me to serve as their Assistant Pastor. I will accept this call and be ordained into the office of public ministry and installed at FLC Gainesville on Sunday June 7, 2015.
Below is a letter that explains why I am accepting this call, who I have to thank for this, what I will be doing in this calling, and a little about how I am going to balance between being a full-time religion scholar and a called and ordained Lutheran pastor.
This is the culmination of a multi-year process. There were many of you who, along the way, encouraged me to consider pastoral ministry. For that, I am heartily grateful. Ever since I was in high school I have had various mentors who motivated me and I am indebted to them as well. From being baptized at Prince of Peace (Fremont, CA) to my upbringing and confirmation at Trinity Lutheran Church (Simi Valley, CA), and my practical training at churches such as the Manawatu Parish in Palmerston North and Feilding, New Zealand there have been many congregations, pastors, and leaders who have shaped me along the way. In addition to these churches, I must thank my friends and mentors at Simi Covenant Church (Simi Valley, CA); Mt. Hope Community Church (Rancho Santa Margarita, CA); Aliso Viejo Church of the Cross (CA); St. Luke’s (Westminster, CA); Abbey West (Irvine, CA); the Themba Trust (Mabola, South Africa); Mountain View Lutheran Church (Apache Junction, AZ); International Friendship House (Tempe, AZ); LINC Houston (TX); Memorial Lutheran Church (Katy, TX); CrossPoint Community Church (Katy, TX); and especially the faculty and staff at CUI and the CMC.
The campus at FLC Gainesville, FL.
My mother likes to remind me that for a second grade journal entry when the class was prompted to write about “what I want to be when we grow up” I wrote, “I want to be a preacher” and drew an albed man in the pulpit with an arm raised in proclamation. While this may have been an initial spark, I remember the moment when I concretely felt an “inner call” to pastoral ministry. Attending a service at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Wellington, New Zealand I was watching Rev. Dr. Mark Whitfield administer communion and I thought to myself, “I want to serve in that way.”
When Elizabeth and I returned to the U.S. after our time abroad I enrolled in seminary with the Cross-cultural Ministry Center (CMC) at Concordia University Irvine (CUI). The CMC is an alternative route to ordination in the LCMS and as such is committed to forming faithful missionary pastors to initiate and develop culture-crossing ministries. Guided by the mission of CUI and in partnership with Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, the CMC is faithful to Scripture and the Lutheran Confessions without compromise. After four years of academic study with a concurrent vicarage, graduates finish with a Master of Arts in Theology and Culture from CUI and receive full certification for ordination as a pastor in the LCMS. The CMC program is focused on mission integration with the everyday life of its trainees, embedded learning in missiological and cross-cultural contexts, international and intergenerational diversity, and professional excellence in the classroom and the parish.
In addition to the call to pastoral ministry I also remember the moment I felt called to teach at the university level. I was sitting in the late Rev. Dr. Eshetu Abate Koyra’s Systematics class and thought to myself, “I want to do this someday.” Thus, upon completion of my MA I was admitted to the PhD program in religious studies at the University of Florida and deferred an immediate call to a congregation.
While I am motivated by my theological perspectives I am primarily informed by the ethnographic, historical, and sociological study of religion and driven by a passion for religious literacy in my role, and calling, as a religion scholar studying global Islam and religion in the Americas.
As a PhD student in the Religion Department at the University of Florida I am engaged in a course of study in which I focus on Religion in the Americas and Global Islam. My particular areas of research include global Islam, Islam in the Americas, globalization and religion, intersections of religion & culture, Christian-Muslim relations, global Christianity, and theoretical approaches to the study religious studies theory. I also continue to write & speak on the topic of religion and culture as both an academic and a journalist covering 'the god beat’ for national print and digital publications. As you well know, I blog about religion and culture and all of my work can found here.
Even with accepting the call to FLC Gainesville I will remain full-time in my studies and work for the university. I am being called as a bi-vocational pastor to serve by preaching, teaching, assisting with sermon and worship planning, overseeing digital media at FLC, and assisting with other pastoral duties as need be. A bi-vocational pastor is an ordained minister who follows the model of the Apostle Paul (Acts 20:34) by offering ministry without expectation of full-time remuneration, instead supplying his primary vocational and financial needs via another job or business outside the church.
Bi-vocational ministry has a long history in the service of the church. Often times, for many reasons and in various contexts, pastors have served out their call with a congregation while at the same time earning their living through their own entrepreneurial efforts or employment in another line of work. The term “part-time” is not an accurate way to describe a bi-vocational pastor. While I may be receiving a partial salary, I am is still a full-time pastor. Furthermore, a bi-vocational pastor should not be considered with any more or less esteem than any other type of pastor serving the church.
There will obviously be tensions with this call. Not only will I have to balance my multiple vocations, or callings, as husband, son, brother, PhD student, public intellectual, and pastor, but I will also have to navigate the ambiguities and ambivalences present in being both a scholar of religion and a theologian (how to do that is the subject for another post for the future). While I am motivated by my theological perspectives I am primarily informed by the ethnographic, historical, and sociological study of religion and driven by a passion for religious literacy in my role, and calling, as a religion scholar studying global Islam and religion in the Americas. In short, I feel called to the work of religious literacy and serving in both of these capacities allows me to, in my humble opinion, do each better.
As it says on my bio page, I intend to serve as a forward-thinking Lutheran theologian & pastor who accents 'glocal' 21st-century Christianity as a "theologian without borders." Weaving together historical context, societal exegesis, & a fair dose of ironic humor, my goal is to serve & speak with power, love, & sound mind.
In order to successfully serve in both capacities as PhD student and pastor I covet your thoughts, prayers, and support. I also ask that you think of my wife — Elizabeth — an accomplished woman on her own right who also buoys my work as my life partner. To her I am eternally thankful. In addition to my parents Bob and Sandy, my brother Brett, my grandmother Millie, and my wider family I have had a lifelong support system that has prompted me in this direction in ways both seen and unseen. Thank you. I love you.
If you have any more questions or comments concerning my ordination I ask that you either leave a comment below or contact me via my website. I invite you all to my ordination service in June. It’s going to be fun. If you would like to send your greetings you can post them to: First Lutheran Church, 1801 NW 5th Ave., Gainesville, FL 32603.
Peace - Ken
Francis J. Underwood.
Jesus H. Christ.
What hath one to do with the other?
This week I wrapped up season 3 of the hit Netflix show "House of Cards." The show is set in Washington D.C. and follows the exploits of anti-hero Frank Underwood (Kevin Spacey), originally a Democratic House majority whip from South Carolina. After being passed over for an appointment to Secretary of State he plots an elaborate plan to gain even greater power and prestige along with his wife Claire (Robin Wright). Nothing will stand in their way, except perhaps for each other, as they ruthlessly, matter-of-factly manipulate their way into positions of power.
Now, don't get me wrong. I am not here to condemn the show tout de suite. My wife and I curl up on our couch and binge watch Frank's destructive, and deplorably entertaining, will to power on Netflix with the best of 'em. Nonetheless, as we finished the latest season this week I also find myself preparing a message for Palm/Passion Sunday. I could not help but connect, compare, and contrast the two.
Like any good disciple, we will binge watch Jesus' passion next week -- taking in all the political intrigue, interpersonal drama, public conflict, and violent provocations. It will come at us in spades and spears, in backroom conversations and trials open to the public, in crowds and mocking jeers. Indeed, in many ways, the Passion of Jesus Christ is a 1st-century parallel to the spectacle of the "House of Cards."
Except for one major difference -- the protagonist. While Frank Underwood may be the consummate anti-hero (giving even Rick Grimes or Walter White a run for their money) his brand of leadership and legacy is antithetical to that of Jesus.
As Underwood slams doors and flexes his political muscle, Jesus opens his arms and spreads them across the wooden beams of a cross to give himself as a ransom for many. As Pope Francis said last week, "The house of Jesus must be open." While Underwood struts around the Beltway and into the Oval Office, Jesus comes humbly, riding on a donkey and eventually crawling under the weight of his cross. In contrast to Underwood's legal maneuvers and political schemes, Jesus comes simply, plainly, humbly to be tried, spit upon (even Frank got in on the "spitting on Jesus" action this season, but Jesus got the touché), and convicted to the cross by a kangaroo court.
Unfortunately, while we fashion Underwood as an "anti-hero," in reality Francis is the hero we all want. One with warts and all. One with flaws and a façade to maintain. One with weaknesses compensated by pride, political showmanship, and a coldhearted and purposeful will to power. Why? Because that's more like what we see in our everyday lives. Not only from others, but within ourselves.
Perhaps we'd never (SPOILERS) push someone in front of a train or let them suffocate in a parking garage to maintain or increase our grasp of dominance and control, but we certainly have our own scars from sinful episodes of wrath, lust, and greed. In the real world, these deeds lead most often to faltering failure. In the world of "House of Cards," to more power and prestige. That's why we like Frank. He is the take no prisoners, take no shit, take everything for himself type of person we want to be.
Then there's Jesus. The anti-anti-hero. To be sure, Jesus is no "hero" either. Nor is he an anti-hero. Heroes, whether they be the quintessential type like Superman or the anti-hero like Batman use violence and strength to win the day. Jesus, on the other hand, comes in humility "not counting equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant...And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross." (Philippians 2:7-8 ESV)
Instead of bolting into Jerusalem faster than Flash Gordon, Jesus saunters in on a donkey. How unconvincing is that? Instead of confronting the religious and political leaders of his day to fisticuffs he brings healing & tells enigmatic "choose-your-own-adventure" stories (a.k.a. "parables"). What a strange dude! Instead of kicking some Pilate or Sanhedrin butt or taking the seat of government by sword and force, he willingly offers himself up to be killed like a loser on the cross. That's what I call a pathetic, half-assed, attempt at being Messiah!
The disconcerting, even alarming, message here is that Jesus brings a completely counterintuitive, ridonculous, and inverted way of living and leadership. And then, he tells us to do the same, to "take up [our] cross and follow [him]." (Matthew 16:24 ESV) How dare he?!
Indeed, Jesus is the ultimate anti-anti-hero and anti-hero, all at once. His humility and sense of service to his Father and to all humanity rattles us. It confronts us. It plays tricks on us. We deny it. We try to muscularize and masculanize it. We try to refashion Jesus in the image of Superman or Frank Underwood. But it doesn't work. Because in the end, there Jesus is bloodied and beaten on the cross not really undermining the power of Rome at all. Eventually, even his church will be corrupted with the very power that crucified him.
Failure? No, it's a beautiful fulfillment of God's plan of compassion and mercy in contrast to control and manipulation. In our heart of hearts, we know that evil cannot be conquered by more evil. That's not how Jesus works. That's how the cosmos works. Instead, in a world-shattering move he accomplishes the will of his Father by doing what heroes would never do -- surrender. He achieves the Messianic goal by doing what anti-heroes would never do -- courageously facing his own destruction. He shatters the status quo, he defeats sin and death, he proclaims victory over it all and then bids us to do the same.
Crap.
And so, here I sit, exhausted after my "House of Cards" marathon about to head into Holy Week contemplating how Christ calls me to think, speak, and act with compassion and humility, loving my enemies, turning the other cheek, going the extra mile, and praying for those who persecute me.
Maybe I'll finally decide to follow him in this path of peace, starting this week. Most likely, however, I'll just go get caught up on "Better Call Saul" or watch "Sons of Anarchy" per the recommendation of a pastor friend I know. Because, like Frank, I might convince myself that "humility is just their form of pride. Their strength. Their weakness." You know, justify my way out of sanctification.
Good thing that Jesus flips the script anyways and no matter what I do, or don't do, he's already gone and done it on my behalf. Amen to that.
