Friends,
Thanks for following my blog! Wanted to let you know that I'm going live today (Dec. 23, 2013) with a new platform. From now on, you can find me at: jerswigart.com.
Please head over, check out the site, subscribe to my blog there, and spread the word.
Thanks!
Jer
Monday, December 23, 2013
Monday, May 20, 2013
Introducing The Global Immersion Project!
-->
I’m a
dreamer…I always have been. My
dreams tend to orient around innovative methods that lead to the holistic
development of people and, ultimately, to global human flourishing.
Today, after
a year of development, listening, refinement, on the ground experience, and
opened doors into unthinkable partnerships, one of those dreams is becoming a
reality!
In
partnership with my friend and co-founder, Jon Huckins, it is my deepest joy to
introduce The Global Immersion Project.
Oriented around the life and teachings of Jesus (Matthew 5:9; Luke
19:41-42), our work is to cultivate everyday peacemakers through immersion in
global conflict. To do so, we
curate 3-month Learning Labs that culminate in world-class, 2-week immersion
experiences into the seemingly inaccessible global areas of conflict and into
the lives of the everyday peacemakers embedded within.
In short, our
dream is to see an entire global generation equipped with the micro-practices
of peacemaking and collaborating across boarders toward a just, flourishing
tomorrow. To that end, not only
will we be a presence of reconciliation globally, but we will also resource
leaders, global citizens, and emerging influencers to live, love, and lead as
everyday peacemakers in the Way of Jesus from within the context of their own
neighborhoods.
As we
officially “go live,” we would appreciate your support by both joining our
social media outlets AND by helping us share our work through your personal
networks. Here’s how:
1. Check out and Share our Promo Video.
2. Visit our re-launched newly branded website.
3. Follow us at Twitter at @GlobalImmerse
4. Like our Facebook Page
5. Join our mailing list for exclusive
updates & content.
As Jesus
demonstrated, the work of peacemaking is neither esoteric nor glamorous; it’s
grounded, subversive, gritty, and everyday. We must no longer outsource the work of peacemaking but
must, instead, reintegrate it into our vocation as human beings created in the
image of God. In the Way of Jesus,
we must become instruments of peace.
To that end,
Jer
Co-Founder
& CVO of The Global Immersion Project
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Resurrection in the Streets of Bethany...Again!
A few days ago, I was reading in a public space that I shared with several others. Some of them were sleeping, others were reading, and a few were people-watching. As I read, I nonchalantly took in my surroundings and recognized that we were all satisfied with the gift of a few tranquil moments in the middle of an otherwise full day.
And then...our tranquility was interrupted by a little boy with a toy gun. At first, he shot what I could only imagine to be the villains that his eyes alone could see. With boyish confidence he pointed his plastic assault rifle beyond those that I sat among to those he sought to rid us from. With vocalized "Pops!" and "Splats!", the little boy ducked and rolled, somersaulted and jumped...his "mission" seemed successful.
We all smiled at each other, as we remembered our own imaginary adventures of ridding the world of evil.
He blew imaginary smoke from his gun, looked around, and engaged in a different mission. This one was far less pretend and far more personal. This second mission interrupted our shared tranquility far more than the first.
In this mission, the villains were no longer imaginary enemies, they were now those men and women who shared the public space with me. With the same confidence, rather than pointing his assault rifle beyond us, he now pointed it directly at us.
"Pop!" "Splat!" called out the little boy as he sought to eliminate each and every one of us with a pretend bullet through the heart or head.
Smiles turned to troubled glances as we scanned the crowd for the parents of the little boy with a violent imagination.
As I watched this second mission unfold, I was transported back to the streets of Bethany...
Milad and Manar are a young Palestinian Christian couple with a beautiful little boy named Nashan. Milad has the looks of a Middle Eastern movie star complete with slicked back jet-black hair and a well manicured beard. Manar is a beautiful, passionate red-head with an intensity that leaves little doubt as to who is in charge. These two grew up under Israeli occupation in the city of Bethany, a small village located five miles from Bethlehem and just a few more from Jerusalem.
Historically, Bethany is a place of resurrection: its where Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead.
A few years ago, Milad and Manar watched an unsettling story unfold in the streets of Bethany. Rather than the children of their village playing soccer or instruments, they watched them play war. With slingshots imagined and real and with sticks for guns, the neighborhood children would band together to declare war on their enemies. Most of the time, their enemies were imginary, but on other occasions, their enemies became each other.
Having grown up in the same streets under the same occupied scenario, Milad and Manar understood what was going on. Because they lived on the wrong side of a wall and because their village was surrounded by check-points guarded by armed Israeli soldiers, the imaginations of the children of Bethany were becoming calcified. The circumstances of life in the West Bank were producing little human beings who lacked redemptive outlets for their frustration. No national or international funding for the arts or for sport meant that when the kids of Bethany played, all they could imagine was their freedom. Freedom, they believed, that would come through a slingshot before it would come through a soccer ball.
Milad and Manar's response was remarkable:
To do so, they began inviting the children of Bethany into their living room and, through the vehicles of art, literature, music, theater, sport, and, ultimately, through relationship, they began to watch the story unfold differently in their streets. Resurrection...new life...was emerging in Bethany again.
In August, Global Immersion's learning community entered into this story. In the posture of learners, we watched as Milad, Manar, and their team carefully guided and trained over one hundred children in the course of one afternoon. Stunned, we watched and listened to hope growing.
That evening, we gathered at Milad and Manar's little home. The women had snacks and drinks inside while the men circled up in their backyard. Assembled in that circle were one Palestinian Christian (Milad), eight Muslim men (Milad's team), and nine USAmerican Christians (the men from Global Immersion's learning community). After pouring all of the Christians a generous pour of delicious whiskey and all of the Muslims an equally generous pour of Coke, Milad asked an essential question of the USAmericans:
With humility and honesty, nine USAmerican men engaged in dialogue with nine Palestinian men about what we thought as well as what we know now.
But now...
As we went around the circle, I listened as USAmerican men affirmed Palestinian men, communicated what we had learned from them, highlighted our similarities, asked for forgiveness, and expressed our desire for friendship to deepen.
After I answered Milad's question, I reciprocated the same question back to him and our Muslim brothers:
With equal humility and honesty, nine Palestinian men engaged in dialogue with nine USAmerican men about what they thought as well as what they know now.
At the conclusion of our dialogue, conversation went informal, more drinks were poured, and hugs were shared with promises to see each other in the morning. As we returned to our lodging for the night, the nine of us passed Lazarus' old, empty tomb.
In the very place where resurrection had once occurred, I recognized that Jesus is still in the work of resurrection.
And then...our tranquility was interrupted by a little boy with a toy gun. At first, he shot what I could only imagine to be the villains that his eyes alone could see. With boyish confidence he pointed his plastic assault rifle beyond those that I sat among to those he sought to rid us from. With vocalized "Pops!" and "Splats!", the little boy ducked and rolled, somersaulted and jumped...his "mission" seemed successful.
We all smiled at each other, as we remembered our own imaginary adventures of ridding the world of evil.
He blew imaginary smoke from his gun, looked around, and engaged in a different mission. This one was far less pretend and far more personal. This second mission interrupted our shared tranquility far more than the first.
In this mission, the villains were no longer imaginary enemies, they were now those men and women who shared the public space with me. With the same confidence, rather than pointing his assault rifle beyond us, he now pointed it directly at us.
"Pop!" "Splat!" called out the little boy as he sought to eliminate each and every one of us with a pretend bullet through the heart or head.
Smiles turned to troubled glances as we scanned the crowd for the parents of the little boy with a violent imagination.
As I watched this second mission unfold, I was transported back to the streets of Bethany...
Milad and Manar are a young Palestinian Christian couple with a beautiful little boy named Nashan. Milad has the looks of a Middle Eastern movie star complete with slicked back jet-black hair and a well manicured beard. Manar is a beautiful, passionate red-head with an intensity that leaves little doubt as to who is in charge. These two grew up under Israeli occupation in the city of Bethany, a small village located five miles from Bethlehem and just a few more from Jerusalem.
Historically, Bethany is a place of resurrection: its where Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead.
A few years ago, Milad and Manar watched an unsettling story unfold in the streets of Bethany. Rather than the children of their village playing soccer or instruments, they watched them play war. With slingshots imagined and real and with sticks for guns, the neighborhood children would band together to declare war on their enemies. Most of the time, their enemies were imginary, but on other occasions, their enemies became each other.
Having grown up in the same streets under the same occupied scenario, Milad and Manar understood what was going on. Because they lived on the wrong side of a wall and because their village was surrounded by check-points guarded by armed Israeli soldiers, the imaginations of the children of Bethany were becoming calcified. The circumstances of life in the West Bank were producing little human beings who lacked redemptive outlets for their frustration. No national or international funding for the arts or for sport meant that when the kids of Bethany played, all they could imagine was their freedom. Freedom, they believed, that would come through a slingshot before it would come through a soccer ball.
Milad and Manar's response was remarkable:
"We had to give our kids another way of expressing their frustration and imagining a better future. We had to find a way to seed hope."
To do so, they began inviting the children of Bethany into their living room and, through the vehicles of art, literature, music, theater, sport, and, ultimately, through relationship, they began to watch the story unfold differently in their streets. Resurrection...new life...was emerging in Bethany again.
In August, Global Immersion's learning community entered into this story. In the posture of learners, we watched as Milad, Manar, and their team carefully guided and trained over one hundred children in the course of one afternoon. Stunned, we watched and listened to hope growing.That evening, we gathered at Milad and Manar's little home. The women had snacks and drinks inside while the men circled up in their backyard. Assembled in that circle were one Palestinian Christian (Milad), eight Muslim men (Milad's team), and nine USAmerican Christians (the men from Global Immersion's learning community). After pouring all of the Christians a generous pour of delicious whiskey and all of the Muslims an equally generous pour of Coke, Milad asked an essential question of the USAmericans:
"What was your perspective of us Palestinians before you entered into the work of Global Immersion and what is it now?"
With humility and honesty, nine USAmerican men engaged in dialogue with nine Palestinian men about what we thought as well as what we know now.
"I thought you were the enemy."
"I was led to believe that 'Palestinian' is another word for 'Terrorist'."
"I was convinced that you had no right to live here."
But now...
"I recognize how I have 'othered' you."
"I was wrong in equating an entire people group with the behavior of a radical few."
"I have robbed dignity from you simply by not asking better questions."
"You have as much right to living here and living free as I do in my country."
As we went around the circle, I listened as USAmerican men affirmed Palestinian men, communicated what we had learned from them, highlighted our similarities, asked for forgiveness, and expressed our desire for friendship to deepen.
After I answered Milad's question, I reciprocated the same question back to him and our Muslim brothers:
"What was your perspective of us USAmericans before today what is it now?"
With equal humility and honesty, nine Palestinian men engaged in dialogue with nine USAmerican men about what they thought as well as what they know now.
"American Christians are the most myopic people in the world...they come here to walk where Jesus walked, buy they don't care to walk like Jesus walked."
"If American Christians actually followed Jesus, this (pointing to the separation wall that is visible from Milad's backyard) probably wouldn't be here."
"You blindly support Israel...you give them everything they want and ask for...without ever once looking into what they do with what you give them."
But now...
"I was wrong in equating Jesus with the US Government. I was wrong in equating American Christian tourists with Christianity. "
"I've met a different Jesus because of you. I'm intrigued with the Jesus that you follow."
"As you have unfairly 'othered' me, I have unfairly 'othered' you. Please forgive me."
At the conclusion of our dialogue, conversation went informal, more drinks were poured, and hugs were shared with promises to see each other in the morning. As we returned to our lodging for the night, the nine of us passed Lazarus' old, empty tomb.
In the very place where resurrection had once occurred, I recognized that Jesus is still in the work of resurrection.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Introducing The Global Immersion Project
Seven years ago, in the villages of earthquake ravaged northern Pakistan, I began to understand something of the missional genius and Kingdom-potency of incarnational (relational) living in neighborhoods near (local) and far (global). In hindsight, I recognize that He was also releasing me deeper into His dream for me: He has built me to participate with Him in the holistic development of differnece-makers into men and women who live, love, & lead like Jesus.
Here is the snap shot intro (or you can just check out our website).
Purpose Statement
Cultivating difference-makers through immersion in global narratives
Mission Statement
Through diverse, global friendship-making, storytelling, and real-time living, the work of The Global Immersion Project is to develop difference-makers into people who tangibly live, love, and lead like Jesus. We believe in the just impact, locally and globally, that USAmericans can make if we learn to live in the posture of a learner with God, ourselves, each other, and those who inhabit our global village.
What It Looks Like
We offer a four-month learning experience that shapes us into people who promote the Just Heart of God in the Way of Jesus. This Understanding Phase gives invites us into the historical, theological, and modern narratives of Palestinians & Israelis and culminates in a 12-day experience off the beaten trails of tourism in Israel & Palestinian Territories. We choose to immerse into the narratives of our Israeli and Palestinian friends in the posture of learners rather than heros and seek to be intelligent sojourners who embody the narrative of Jesus.
To participate with TGIP is to commit to navigating the experience in Learning Communities that are facilitated by Jon and Jer both in person and available through an online platform. Our cultivation takes place in three phases: (1) understanding;(2) exposure & deeper understanding; and (3) resourced integration that is shaped around extenstive reading, documentary viewing, Scriptural exploration, conversation, and the art of friendship-making. Our goal is to develop practicing theologians who better engage their local and global neighborhoods in the Way of Jesus. Go to our website for the detailed description, curriculum & theological affirmations that shape this experience.
How To Participate
To apply for the experience or to follow along in the real time stories, pictures and video’s from our time navigating the complex realities of Israel/Palestine, jump on board these platforms:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/GlobaIImmerse
Wednesday, January 04, 2012
...like little children...
Ava loves to cook, play, tend to our chickens, garden, picnic, stoop-sit, travel, hang with friends.... She loves all of these experiences very much and I love that she loves them.
Among all of these "loves", a good film ranks right up near the top.
A couple of nights ago, she was watching a film with her two older cousins in Minnesota. All three of them were captivated by the story. Their little heads swayed with the motion of Peter Pan soaring through the sky. They thrust their little arms into the air every time Pan beat Hook. As I watched them watch Peter Pan, I imagined that they were so enthralled with the film that the line between reality and fantasy had altogether disappeared. As far as they were concerned, they were watching the film from within the story.
And then, Ava's youngest cousin (18 mos.) began to cry. After a couple moments of prolonged sobbing, I noticed that Ava's head had turned from the film to Lucy. Her attention shifted from fantasy to reality.
But she didn't stop at noticing her cousin's cries...she got up and did something about it. I watched as she rummaged through a wicker basket for a special blanket. Having found it, she next collected a singing Christmas card that she had just received an hour earlier. With both objects in hand, she neared Lucy, covered her up, showed her the Christmas card, played it for her once, taught her how to do it herself, gently brushed her cheek, and then silently returned to the film without another word.
The adventure of compassionate living had trumped the entertainment of passive fantasy.
My daughter heard the cries of another.
She allowed her life to be interrupted by the life of another.
She tended to the needs of another and then taught the other how to do it herself.
She did all of this with tenderness and with no need to be acknowledged for it.
Having heard the cries and responded, she then drifted back into anonymity.
My daughter prefers compassionate living to passive entertainment.
Do I?
Do you?
Do we?
Among all of these "loves", a good film ranks right up near the top.
A couple of nights ago, she was watching a film with her two older cousins in Minnesota. All three of them were captivated by the story. Their little heads swayed with the motion of Peter Pan soaring through the sky. They thrust their little arms into the air every time Pan beat Hook. As I watched them watch Peter Pan, I imagined that they were so enthralled with the film that the line between reality and fantasy had altogether disappeared. As far as they were concerned, they were watching the film from within the story.
And then, Ava's youngest cousin (18 mos.) began to cry. After a couple moments of prolonged sobbing, I noticed that Ava's head had turned from the film to Lucy. Her attention shifted from fantasy to reality.
But she didn't stop at noticing her cousin's cries...she got up and did something about it. I watched as she rummaged through a wicker basket for a special blanket. Having found it, she next collected a singing Christmas card that she had just received an hour earlier. With both objects in hand, she neared Lucy, covered her up, showed her the Christmas card, played it for her once, taught her how to do it herself, gently brushed her cheek, and then silently returned to the film without another word.
The adventure of compassionate living had trumped the entertainment of passive fantasy.
My daughter heard the cries of another.
She allowed her life to be interrupted by the life of another.
She tended to the needs of another and then taught the other how to do it herself.
She did all of this with tenderness and with no need to be acknowledged for it.
Having heard the cries and responded, she then drifted back into anonymity.
My daughter prefers compassionate living to passive entertainment.
Do I?
Do you?
Do we?
Friday, December 02, 2011
Thoughts from a recovering Grenade Launcher
I received an email today from a young, dynamic college-aged student who has been hard-wired as a restless analysts who is always wondering if there's not something more to this life, this faith, this world.... Its a beautiful wiring that he is trying to learn to live with and leverage for good.
Here's what he wrote:
When we talked back in May, at one point I said that I was increasingly growing tired of being a critic and you told me that you had a similar sort of thought earlier in your life. The exact line you used was, "I've thrown enough grenades!" Over the course of the summer and the fall I am becoming more and more exhausted of my own critical nature.
Unfortunately after having invested so much of my identity into being a critic it's hard to try to change my mindset from destruction to construction.
So I wanted to know how the process of putting aside the grenades and learning how to build something, instead of just attacking everything, has looked for you.
Any insight you might have would be appreciated!
Here's how I interacted with his thoughts:
A couple of thoughts from a recovering Grenade Launcher:
1. Some things (perhaps most things) need to be questioned/deconstructed. It's likely that God has given you a critical eye for a just reason. It's in the way that we question/deconstruct that either results in destruction or construction. In my experience, its in the moments of humble curiosity and a true desire to be helpful rather than unconventional that construction results. It is when the end is my identity being reinforced as "unconventional" that things go awry.
To the "unconventional" thought...how much of your identity have you constructed around being the deconstructor / contrarian / grenader? The more infrastructure you have built into this identity, the more work/pain/challenge will be involved in its deconstruction. Do you see the beautiful irony here? Something actually needs to be "grenaded" in your own understanding of you.
2. Become the part of a solution. The challenge in the transition that you long for is that its actually easier to sit as the critical grenade launcher. This is your path of least resistance (that path worn into the wheat field of your existence -- Ephesians 4). It's fun...for a time...until you find yourself alone or exclusively with other grenade launchers. Then, its not fun...its lonely and we become faced with the cost of our "grenading": relationships. You need to live a new, different, better story. Contribute in the construction of something beautiful. I can say, with authority, that, being created in the image of God, you were designed as a constructive agent of good...a maker-right of wrong things. Perhaps its time to begin living into your truer identity: the Beloved. Perhaps its time to follow Jesus onto paths yet untrod.
3. Neither #1 or #2 are possible outside of the inhabiting of the very Breath of God. Bring the thoughts of this email (yours and mine) to Him. Bring these thoughts to your core community. Let them speak into the deconstruction that God is doing with you. As they do, listen for His voice. Experience His presence within. Ask Him to awaken your imagination, to listen longer than feels comfortable, and for courage to live what you hear.
Here's what he wrote:
When we talked back in May, at one point I said that I was increasingly growing tired of being a critic and you told me that you had a similar sort of thought earlier in your life. The exact line you used was, "I've thrown enough grenades!" Over the course of the summer and the fall I am becoming more and more exhausted of my own critical nature.
Unfortunately after having invested so much of my identity into being a critic it's hard to try to change my mindset from destruction to construction.
So I wanted to know how the process of putting aside the grenades and learning how to build something, instead of just attacking everything, has looked for you.
Any insight you might have would be appreciated!
Here's how I interacted with his thoughts:
A couple of thoughts from a recovering Grenade Launcher:
1. Some things (perhaps most things) need to be questioned/deconstructed. It's likely that God has given you a critical eye for a just reason. It's in the way that we question/deconstruct that either results in destruction or construction. In my experience, its in the moments of humble curiosity and a true desire to be helpful rather than unconventional that construction results. It is when the end is my identity being reinforced as "unconventional" that things go awry.
To the "unconventional" thought...how much of your identity have you constructed around being the deconstructor / contrarian / grenader? The more infrastructure you have built into this identity, the more work/pain/challenge will be involved in its deconstruction. Do you see the beautiful irony here? Something actually needs to be "grenaded" in your own understanding of you.
2. Become the part of a solution. The challenge in the transition that you long for is that its actually easier to sit as the critical grenade launcher. This is your path of least resistance (that path worn into the wheat field of your existence -- Ephesians 4). It's fun...for a time...until you find yourself alone or exclusively with other grenade launchers. Then, its not fun...its lonely and we become faced with the cost of our "grenading": relationships. You need to live a new, different, better story. Contribute in the construction of something beautiful. I can say, with authority, that, being created in the image of God, you were designed as a constructive agent of good...a maker-right of wrong things. Perhaps its time to begin living into your truer identity: the Beloved. Perhaps its time to follow Jesus onto paths yet untrod.
3. Neither #1 or #2 are possible outside of the inhabiting of the very Breath of God. Bring the thoughts of this email (yours and mine) to Him. Bring these thoughts to your core community. Let them speak into the deconstruction that God is doing with you. As they do, listen for His voice. Experience His presence within. Ask Him to awaken your imagination, to listen longer than feels comfortable, and for courage to live what you hear.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
The Popsicle-Stained Neighbor
My family lives on Pepper Drive.
Pepper Drive is a unique place where God's Story is lived out in all sorts of beautifully bizarre, simple, common, and unconventional ways. Pepper Drive is one of the unique soils in which my family is formed.
I can remember our first visit to Pepper Drive. Two friends had recently purchased a home on the street and had invited Jaci and I to a house-warming party. A freeway to an exit to some side streets and up a hill we went turning at last from Garden onto Pepper.
"Just add Cucumber Circle, Tomato Blvd., and Crouton Court and these street names would make a great salad." I thought out loud as we veered toward the curb in front of our friends' home.
Over and over we made the journey to Pepper Drive. The frequency with which we returned meant that we started becoming friends with our friends' neighbors...Pepper Drive started to feel like home. One year later, Pepper Drive officially became our neighborhood.
Pepper Drive was hit especially hard during the real estate crisis. Like so many neighborhoods across the country, it seemed as though half of our street was vacant. Slowly, contractors bought the foreclosed homes, renovated them, and prepared to rent them.
Our dream has always been to live in close proximity with friends. We've often considered what it would be like to share resources and meals...what it would be like to intentionally share life with a few others. The dream became reality as, over time, we crossed the thresholds of the homes being renovated into friendships with the contractors. By the time a given house was ready to rent, Jaci would personally hand deliver the house to some of our friends and our friends to the contractors. In no time, there were seven homes filled with our friends...The Pepper Drive Community was born.
With 12-15 dynamic people (and a few great dogs) on Pepper, we began to explore some practices with each other. We figured that that many like-minded people in one neighborhood should cause the landscape to shift. Tangible differences should become palpable as, rather than focusing exclusively on being good neighbors to each other, we focus on being good neighbors to our entire neighborhood.
Three simple practices have emerged that have been helpful:
1. The stoop sit. Rather than sitting in our back or side yards, we are choosing to sit on our front stoop. As a result, we find ourselves far more available and present to our neighbors who are returning from work, going on runs/walks, doing lawn work, washing cars, and/or playing in the street. The stoop sit is creating frequent touch points with our neighbors that last anywhere from 5 minutes to an hour and, at times, end up around the table.
2. The shared table. Every Monday night, the Pepper Drive Community gathers around one of seven tables to eat, reconnect, tell stories and, from time to time, conspire tangible practices of love for the larger Pepper Drive. Periodically we find ourselves around the tables of other friends/neighbors and them around ours.
3. Shared Resources. Whether its vehicles, lawn equipment, food, or camping gear, our stuff is becoming "our" stuff. Eventually, we'd like to see this practice free our finances such that we can give it away in creative ways.
What I love most about Pepper Drive, though, is the frequency with which we find ourselves in the homes of others.
One night, as I was watching hockey in the living room of my next-door neighbors, I watched Jaci and Ava walk across the street and enter into the home of a different neighbor. 30 minutes passed and I hadn't seen them return. Knowing that our dinner was in the oven, I ran over to our house, switched the food out, and ran back to my friend's place for more hockey. As I walked in, I commented, "Sheesh...Jaci, Ava, and I are in everyone else's home but our own!"
Louisa, who has lived on Pepper far longer than the rest of us, said, "That's so cool." She continued, "Ever since you all moved onto Pepper, this neighborhood has gone vintage."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"This is becoming a neighborhood like it used to be...people becoming friends, friends becoming neighbors, neighbors becoming a family. As a matter of fact, I get excited when I turn onto Pepper because I love who I live among."
I was reminded of this conversation as Ava and I sat on our stoop this past Monday. Our artist friend and neighbor, Marcos, walked by with his two Chihuahuas and greeted us both by name. He's a brand new daddy of a beautiful baby girl and is getting some fresh exposure because of his unique style of art. I inquired about both worlds (daddy and artist) and he was thrilled to talk about each.
As we chatted, Ava, was eating the two-stick kind of red Popsicle. She had already broken the Popsicle in two and, therefore, had two leaking red Popsicles, one in each hand. As Marcos was preparing to move on, Ava reached out her right hand and offered one of her half-eaten, melting Popsicles to him.
"Thanks so much, Ava!" Marcos said with a wink at me. "Maybe next time."
"Okay!" Ava said nonchalantly.
"You're a good a neighbor, Ava." He responded as he walked away.
"Thanks!" Ava yelled.
My heart swelled a bit. I was proud of my little girl who had red stains streaking down her arms and well past her elbows.
After some time, as she continued to work on her Popsicle, she calmly asked, "What's a neighbor?"
"A neighbor is someone who offers her favorite flavored Popsicle to someone else." I said.
"I'm a neighbor?" she asked.
"Sure are!" I beamed.
In silence, she worked on her Popsicle a bit more.
"I'm a neighbor." she said to herself.
I looked over at her and she looked back. "I'm a neighbor!" she laughed.
Pepper Drive is a unique place where God's Story is lived out in all sorts of beautifully bizarre, simple, common, and unconventional ways. Pepper Drive is one of the unique soils in which my family is formed.
I can remember our first visit to Pepper Drive. Two friends had recently purchased a home on the street and had invited Jaci and I to a house-warming party. A freeway to an exit to some side streets and up a hill we went turning at last from Garden onto Pepper.
"Just add Cucumber Circle, Tomato Blvd., and Crouton Court and these street names would make a great salad." I thought out loud as we veered toward the curb in front of our friends' home.
Over and over we made the journey to Pepper Drive. The frequency with which we returned meant that we started becoming friends with our friends' neighbors...Pepper Drive started to feel like home. One year later, Pepper Drive officially became our neighborhood.
Pepper Drive was hit especially hard during the real estate crisis. Like so many neighborhoods across the country, it seemed as though half of our street was vacant. Slowly, contractors bought the foreclosed homes, renovated them, and prepared to rent them.
Our dream has always been to live in close proximity with friends. We've often considered what it would be like to share resources and meals...what it would be like to intentionally share life with a few others. The dream became reality as, over time, we crossed the thresholds of the homes being renovated into friendships with the contractors. By the time a given house was ready to rent, Jaci would personally hand deliver the house to some of our friends and our friends to the contractors. In no time, there were seven homes filled with our friends...The Pepper Drive Community was born.
With 12-15 dynamic people (and a few great dogs) on Pepper, we began to explore some practices with each other. We figured that that many like-minded people in one neighborhood should cause the landscape to shift. Tangible differences should become palpable as, rather than focusing exclusively on being good neighbors to each other, we focus on being good neighbors to our entire neighborhood.
Three simple practices have emerged that have been helpful:
1. The stoop sit. Rather than sitting in our back or side yards, we are choosing to sit on our front stoop. As a result, we find ourselves far more available and present to our neighbors who are returning from work, going on runs/walks, doing lawn work, washing cars, and/or playing in the street. The stoop sit is creating frequent touch points with our neighbors that last anywhere from 5 minutes to an hour and, at times, end up around the table.
2. The shared table. Every Monday night, the Pepper Drive Community gathers around one of seven tables to eat, reconnect, tell stories and, from time to time, conspire tangible practices of love for the larger Pepper Drive. Periodically we find ourselves around the tables of other friends/neighbors and them around ours.
3. Shared Resources. Whether its vehicles, lawn equipment, food, or camping gear, our stuff is becoming "our" stuff. Eventually, we'd like to see this practice free our finances such that we can give it away in creative ways.
What I love most about Pepper Drive, though, is the frequency with which we find ourselves in the homes of others.
One night, as I was watching hockey in the living room of my next-door neighbors, I watched Jaci and Ava walk across the street and enter into the home of a different neighbor. 30 minutes passed and I hadn't seen them return. Knowing that our dinner was in the oven, I ran over to our house, switched the food out, and ran back to my friend's place for more hockey. As I walked in, I commented, "Sheesh...Jaci, Ava, and I are in everyone else's home but our own!"
Louisa, who has lived on Pepper far longer than the rest of us, said, "That's so cool." She continued, "Ever since you all moved onto Pepper, this neighborhood has gone vintage."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"This is becoming a neighborhood like it used to be...people becoming friends, friends becoming neighbors, neighbors becoming a family. As a matter of fact, I get excited when I turn onto Pepper because I love who I live among."
I was reminded of this conversation as Ava and I sat on our stoop this past Monday. Our artist friend and neighbor, Marcos, walked by with his two Chihuahuas and greeted us both by name. He's a brand new daddy of a beautiful baby girl and is getting some fresh exposure because of his unique style of art. I inquired about both worlds (daddy and artist) and he was thrilled to talk about each.
As we chatted, Ava, was eating the two-stick kind of red Popsicle. She had already broken the Popsicle in two and, therefore, had two leaking red Popsicles, one in each hand. As Marcos was preparing to move on, Ava reached out her right hand and offered one of her half-eaten, melting Popsicles to him.
"Thanks so much, Ava!" Marcos said with a wink at me. "Maybe next time."
"Okay!" Ava said nonchalantly.
"You're a good a neighbor, Ava." He responded as he walked away.
"Thanks!" Ava yelled.
My heart swelled a bit. I was proud of my little girl who had red stains streaking down her arms and well past her elbows.
After some time, as she continued to work on her Popsicle, she calmly asked, "What's a neighbor?"
"A neighbor is someone who offers her favorite flavored Popsicle to someone else." I said.
"I'm a neighbor?" she asked.
"Sure are!" I beamed.
In silence, she worked on her Popsicle a bit more.
"I'm a neighbor." she said to herself.
I looked over at her and she looked back. "I'm a neighbor!" she laughed.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
From the BART window
A short portion of my Saturday evening was spent on a BART train.
Having just gotten disconnected from a phone conversation with a friend, I stared out the window into the inky darkness created by the tunnel we had just entered. The life that was occurring in my BART car immediately flashed up as a reflection on the window. Lost in thought, I didn't see any of it until I heard:
"I ain't yo' DAMN girlfriend!"
I was already looking at her reflection...but now I saw her. She was a beautiful, young African American woman sitting next to an African American young man who was obviously embarrassed by both her words and volume. Pain was threaded in her eyes and was etched across her face. She sat rigidly next to someone who, I could only speculate, had hurt her.
As the volume of their conversation subsided, I looked deeper into the window whose reflection exposed the landscape of my place.
He wore tight gray pants, a black tank-top, flesh-colored dancing flats, and a black bra. He held his bike, as did his two female friends. A yellow button pinned to his pants read, "Women's Action."
It was obvious that he was undergoing hormone treatment as his breasts were abnormally large for such a tall, thin young man. It was equally as obvious that he was not yet comfortable with the new story that he was trying to live out.
The BART doors opened. It was his stop. His friends gave him quick hugs, promised to call the next time they went for a bike ride and, as the doors closed, said, "Bye Susie!"
She was a Latin mother of three small children, one of which was asleep in a stroller. The two older children, a boy and a girl, were thin...frail thin. They sat quietly next to her, heads bobbing to the sporadic jostling of the train. Her eyes exposed uncertainty, fear, and anxiety. Every time the the doors opened, she held her two children as close as she could while suspiciously eying every new person entering the train. At one stop, a business man on his phone hurried off but not before slapping the sleeping baby with his computer bag. The child screamed in pain...the business man left without a glance.
She was dressed in jeans, a white tank-top, maroon flannel button-down shirt, and men's brown, leather dress shoes. She wore her hair short and styled in messy faux-hawk. Three piercings adorned her facial features which gave way to a tatoo'd neck line. When she spoke, she strained to deepen its sound.
He was dressed in tight women's blue jeans, a silver belt, and a white, body-fitting blouse. His fingernails were long and painted, his hair hung half-way down his back, and the color of his lipstick matched the maroon flannel of his friend.
She was becoming he and he was becoming she. They held hands, occasionally kissed, and spoke passionately about the evening that she (he) had planned for him (her).
A seemingly insignificant 30 minute BART ride turned into a moment of formation. In those 30 minutes, I saw the humanity of my place reflected in a BART window. I was reminded of the pain, confusion, and complexity of those who call the Bay Area home. I was reminded of a Jesus who went out of his way to move toward the people in the reflection in front of me. I was reminded of a God who didn't just gaze into a reflection on a window, but Who entered into the pain, confusion, and complexity of others. I was reminded that, as a follower if Jesus, my vocation is to move toward the people in my train.
As the train approached my stop, I looked into the reflection one last time. My eyes were drawn to the momma with her kids. Her eyes were closed as she held her sleeping baby. A sudden jolt of the train shifted her daughter's eyes from the floor to the window I was looking into.
In the reflection, we made eye contact.
I smiled at her and waved.
She smiled and waved back.
In that moment, I moved out of the reflection and into real life.
Having just gotten disconnected from a phone conversation with a friend, I stared out the window into the inky darkness created by the tunnel we had just entered. The life that was occurring in my BART car immediately flashed up as a reflection on the window. Lost in thought, I didn't see any of it until I heard:
"I ain't yo' DAMN girlfriend!"
I was already looking at her reflection...but now I saw her. She was a beautiful, young African American woman sitting next to an African American young man who was obviously embarrassed by both her words and volume. Pain was threaded in her eyes and was etched across her face. She sat rigidly next to someone who, I could only speculate, had hurt her.
As the volume of their conversation subsided, I looked deeper into the window whose reflection exposed the landscape of my place.
He wore tight gray pants, a black tank-top, flesh-colored dancing flats, and a black bra. He held his bike, as did his two female friends. A yellow button pinned to his pants read, "Women's Action."
It was obvious that he was undergoing hormone treatment as his breasts were abnormally large for such a tall, thin young man. It was equally as obvious that he was not yet comfortable with the new story that he was trying to live out.
The BART doors opened. It was his stop. His friends gave him quick hugs, promised to call the next time they went for a bike ride and, as the doors closed, said, "Bye Susie!"
She was a Latin mother of three small children, one of which was asleep in a stroller. The two older children, a boy and a girl, were thin...frail thin. They sat quietly next to her, heads bobbing to the sporadic jostling of the train. Her eyes exposed uncertainty, fear, and anxiety. Every time the the doors opened, she held her two children as close as she could while suspiciously eying every new person entering the train. At one stop, a business man on his phone hurried off but not before slapping the sleeping baby with his computer bag. The child screamed in pain...the business man left without a glance.
She was dressed in jeans, a white tank-top, maroon flannel button-down shirt, and men's brown, leather dress shoes. She wore her hair short and styled in messy faux-hawk. Three piercings adorned her facial features which gave way to a tatoo'd neck line. When she spoke, she strained to deepen its sound.
He was dressed in tight women's blue jeans, a silver belt, and a white, body-fitting blouse. His fingernails were long and painted, his hair hung half-way down his back, and the color of his lipstick matched the maroon flannel of his friend.
She was becoming he and he was becoming she. They held hands, occasionally kissed, and spoke passionately about the evening that she (he) had planned for him (her).
A seemingly insignificant 30 minute BART ride turned into a moment of formation. In those 30 minutes, I saw the humanity of my place reflected in a BART window. I was reminded of the pain, confusion, and complexity of those who call the Bay Area home. I was reminded of a Jesus who went out of his way to move toward the people in the reflection in front of me. I was reminded of a God who didn't just gaze into a reflection on a window, but Who entered into the pain, confusion, and complexity of others. I was reminded that, as a follower if Jesus, my vocation is to move toward the people in my train.
As the train approached my stop, I looked into the reflection one last time. My eyes were drawn to the momma with her kids. Her eyes were closed as she held her sleeping baby. A sudden jolt of the train shifted her daughter's eyes from the floor to the window I was looking into.
In the reflection, we made eye contact.
I smiled at her and waved.
She smiled and waved back.
In that moment, I moved out of the reflection and into real life.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Question 4: What can I do?
While there is much to be done nationally and internationally, there is equally as much to be done internally and communally.
Here's what I mean:
Often times, when we hear stories of crisis and/or injustice our initial response is to say, "I need to go there and do something." It's a righteous response and the stuff of a breaking heart. However, too infrequently do we allow the stories of crisis and/or injustice to undo what must be undone within ourselves or the communities of which we are a part. That is, we're quick to parachute into other's issues of injustice before examining ourselves and discovering our own prejudices, racism, hatred, etc.
What I'm not saying:
I'm not saying that it is wrong to want to do something tangible in response to what you've read of the Israeli/Palestinian Conflict. By all means, there's much to be done!
What I am saying:
We must become people who allow ourselves to be moved, changed, refined, and formed by God. There are times, probably frequently, when I need to allow violence to be done to my perspective of me; that is, I daily need to allow myself to be undone and remade by God into a more accurate image of Himself such that His thoughts, words, and actions become mine.
So what can we do?
First, pay attention to what moved you most in the stories below and ask God why it moved you so. Get curious with God, yourself, and those closest to you about what God may be confronting, undoing, and reforming in you. We cannot become a part of any solution until we have confronted the reality that are a part of the conflict.
Then...
1. Develop the capacity to hold multiple narratives at once. This is complicated, messy, and necessary. Perhaps the start point is to introduce a rhythmic prayer like this into our daily repertoire: "God, empower me to step into others narratives with the same compassion that you stepped into mine."
2. Practice radical presence. We must cease so filling our lives with stuff that we are incapable of being present in the gift and/or pain of the now with others.
3. Embrace a Hebrew understanding and Jesus-practice of "Love your Neighbor." In the Talmud, loving the neighbor is equivalent to being pro-people. The Talmud describes my neighbor, created in the image of God, as more important than me. "Love your Neighbor" does not just mean "Love those who are like me." but includes "Love those who are different than me, who persecute me, who abuse me, who hate me." In the Gospels, "Love your Neighbor" means give all of yourself away for the sake of the other.
4. Embrace a Palestinian understanding and Jesus-practice of hospitality: when you are with me, you are the resident and I am the guest. In the Gospels, the Cross communicates hospitality at the highest cost: "you belong with Me!"
5. Embrace a Hebrew understanding and Jesus-practice of peace-seeking. According to the Talmud, seeking peace involves an insane pursuit of places and people where peace is not a reality. Once finding the place and/or people void of peace, actively work to build it. In the Gospels, the most important act of worship is reconciliation. It may be sin for us to sit on our hands in our own personal illusion of peace while there is conflict elsewhere.
6. Get creative in love. Words are becoming progressively meaningless in our world. Thus, we must encourage one another into creative, redemptive, compassionate, toward-people-moving action.
7. Become adept at traversing cultural boundaries with emotional connection and sensitivity. Perhaps the first step is identifying multi-culturalism in our contexts and then courageously and graciously crossing the threshold.
(Note: "Culture" is a term that I use generally to refer to groups and sub-groups of people who organize themselves around a specific identity and set of practices. We DO NOT need to get on a plane to cross cultural thresholds!)
8. Be about "human rights" but shift our understanding from "my" rights to "our" rights. Human rights do not exist for my individualized gain but so that we can come to the defense of those whose rights are being compromised.
(Note: One's shift in understanding of human rights from "my" to "ours" begins when we start paying attention to humanitarian crises in the world around us. Ask, "What humanitarian crisis moves me in my local context? Global context?" Ask, "God, how are you inviting me to participate with You in being the solution?")
9. Cease the non-helpful kind of spirituality where we are committed to proving how smart we are. In reality, people care very little how smart we are, nor are they longing to be guided by smart Christians. Rather, what people are longing for is to be guided by people whose lives reflect the Story that we claim.
10. Deal with the religious extremism caused by poor and/or convenient understandings of the Scriptures in ourselves and within our own faith communities. We have no right, nor do we have a voice, to deal with extremism within other faiths or communities.
11. Pay attention to the Freedom Flotilla that is trying to bring humanitarian aid to the Gaza Strip. Currently the boats are being held, at gun point, in the Greek port under an American and Israeli threat to Greece. To get updates on this, follow US BOAT TO GAZA on facebook.
12. Pay attention to the Palestinian Unilateral Declaration of Independence that will occur within the UN in September. Much of the International Community will support this declaration...The United States has already declared its intention to veto.
13. Watch the internationally recognized documentary Budrus, the story of one Palestinian village's remarkable non-violent resistence to the building of the Wall, and then do a screening of it with your community resourced with the stories and theological reflections from The Unconventional Way that were helpful for you.
14. Come with me some day and meet the Jewish and Palestinian heroes on the ground.
15. Keep exploring and stepping into the Just Heart of God.
He has told you, O man, what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?
Here's what I mean:
Often times, when we hear stories of crisis and/or injustice our initial response is to say, "I need to go there and do something." It's a righteous response and the stuff of a breaking heart. However, too infrequently do we allow the stories of crisis and/or injustice to undo what must be undone within ourselves or the communities of which we are a part. That is, we're quick to parachute into other's issues of injustice before examining ourselves and discovering our own prejudices, racism, hatred, etc.
What I'm not saying:
I'm not saying that it is wrong to want to do something tangible in response to what you've read of the Israeli/Palestinian Conflict. By all means, there's much to be done!
What I am saying:
We must become people who allow ourselves to be moved, changed, refined, and formed by God. There are times, probably frequently, when I need to allow violence to be done to my perspective of me; that is, I daily need to allow myself to be undone and remade by God into a more accurate image of Himself such that His thoughts, words, and actions become mine.
So what can we do?
First, pay attention to what moved you most in the stories below and ask God why it moved you so. Get curious with God, yourself, and those closest to you about what God may be confronting, undoing, and reforming in you. We cannot become a part of any solution until we have confronted the reality that are a part of the conflict.
Then...
1. Develop the capacity to hold multiple narratives at once. This is complicated, messy, and necessary. Perhaps the start point is to introduce a rhythmic prayer like this into our daily repertoire: "God, empower me to step into others narratives with the same compassion that you stepped into mine."
2. Practice radical presence. We must cease so filling our lives with stuff that we are incapable of being present in the gift and/or pain of the now with others.
3. Embrace a Hebrew understanding and Jesus-practice of "Love your Neighbor." In the Talmud, loving the neighbor is equivalent to being pro-people. The Talmud describes my neighbor, created in the image of God, as more important than me. "Love your Neighbor" does not just mean "Love those who are like me." but includes "Love those who are different than me, who persecute me, who abuse me, who hate me." In the Gospels, "Love your Neighbor" means give all of yourself away for the sake of the other.
4. Embrace a Palestinian understanding and Jesus-practice of hospitality: when you are with me, you are the resident and I am the guest. In the Gospels, the Cross communicates hospitality at the highest cost: "you belong with Me!"
5. Embrace a Hebrew understanding and Jesus-practice of peace-seeking. According to the Talmud, seeking peace involves an insane pursuit of places and people where peace is not a reality. Once finding the place and/or people void of peace, actively work to build it. In the Gospels, the most important act of worship is reconciliation. It may be sin for us to sit on our hands in our own personal illusion of peace while there is conflict elsewhere.
6. Get creative in love. Words are becoming progressively meaningless in our world. Thus, we must encourage one another into creative, redemptive, compassionate, toward-people-moving action.
7. Become adept at traversing cultural boundaries with emotional connection and sensitivity. Perhaps the first step is identifying multi-culturalism in our contexts and then courageously and graciously crossing the threshold.
(Note: "Culture" is a term that I use generally to refer to groups and sub-groups of people who organize themselves around a specific identity and set of practices. We DO NOT need to get on a plane to cross cultural thresholds!)
8. Be about "human rights" but shift our understanding from "my" rights to "our" rights. Human rights do not exist for my individualized gain but so that we can come to the defense of those whose rights are being compromised.
(Note: One's shift in understanding of human rights from "my" to "ours" begins when we start paying attention to humanitarian crises in the world around us. Ask, "What humanitarian crisis moves me in my local context? Global context?" Ask, "God, how are you inviting me to participate with You in being the solution?")
9. Cease the non-helpful kind of spirituality where we are committed to proving how smart we are. In reality, people care very little how smart we are, nor are they longing to be guided by smart Christians. Rather, what people are longing for is to be guided by people whose lives reflect the Story that we claim.
10. Deal with the religious extremism caused by poor and/or convenient understandings of the Scriptures in ourselves and within our own faith communities. We have no right, nor do we have a voice, to deal with extremism within other faiths or communities.
11. Pay attention to the Freedom Flotilla that is trying to bring humanitarian aid to the Gaza Strip. Currently the boats are being held, at gun point, in the Greek port under an American and Israeli threat to Greece. To get updates on this, follow US BOAT TO GAZA on facebook.
12. Pay attention to the Palestinian Unilateral Declaration of Independence that will occur within the UN in September. Much of the International Community will support this declaration...The United States has already declared its intention to veto.
13. Watch the internationally recognized documentary Budrus, the story of one Palestinian village's remarkable non-violent resistence to the building of the Wall, and then do a screening of it with your community resourced with the stories and theological reflections from The Unconventional Way that were helpful for you.
14. Come with me some day and meet the Jewish and Palestinian heroes on the ground.
15. Keep exploring and stepping into the Just Heart of God.
He has told you, O man, what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?
Question 3: How are we to think theologically about the Israeli/Palestinian conflict?
Rather than addressing this in totality, I am going to explore one tiny facet of this third question: Has the Church replaced Israel and, therefore, is Israel excluded from relationship and participation with God?
Before wading in to this, I want to offer eight brief thoughts that form some of my frame on theology:
1. We are all theologians: We all have thoughts about who and how God is.
2. We are all practicing theologians: Our thoughts about God inform how we live. Therefore, thinking carefully about the who and how of God is essential.
3. Our theology will eternally shift: God is fully committed to our process of becoming...our becoming like Him will take forever.
4. Theology unites and divides: For good and for bad, we tend to pitch our tents near those whose theology is like ours and far from those whose theology is different.
5. Theology is mostly retroactive: We tend to develop theology to justify what we do to others.
6. Theology is but a thin mist of reality. Language that is created to describe our thoughts about God represents the slightest fraction of who and how God really is.
7. Sometimes our theology is wrong. It is when we convince ourselves that "our" theology is "right" that we wade into a kind of calcified arrogance that interrupts our relationship with God, and others.
8. God longs to be known...thus, the reason He created us with a mind and with senses. His knowability and longing to be known is THE reason He put on flesh and camped in our neighborhood.
Thinking theologically is a comprehensive, life-long pursuit. From my perspective, God is always in the process of forming, adjusting, shifting, and even changing our theology. I see this most explicitly in Acts 10 as God very clearly changes Peter's theology.
In the story, Peter has a very clear theological stance that, in his opinion, is right, complete, and air-tight. His calcified theology told him that God was for Israel, that God had a "side", that the gospel was for Israel only, and that, therefore, his attention was to be directed exclusively on Israel. He was crystal clear on who God was, how God worked, and who God was for...or so he thought.
In a hunger-induced vision on the rooftop of a taxidermist's house (read the irony here!), God began to change Peter's theology: Don't exclude anyone...I AM for everyone!
With shifting theology, Peter moved toward people whom he'd never imagined that he would move toward: Gentiles (the nations)! Because he did, the Story of a Redemptive God flooded into the home of a Gentile and the viral, global movement of the Kingdom of God was ignited.
Peter allowed his theology to shift.
He was humble, curious, and teachable.
Peter found himself among those he formerly referred to as defiled.
His shifting theology caused him to humanize others and to stand in solidarity with them. He crossed their threshold. He became the resident in the embrace of Gentile hospitality.
Peter, no doubt, was scratching his head, wondering if it was okay that he was there.
It was a huge risk. It could have cost him is reputation and standing. He could have been wrong...it might have been the voice of hunger rather than the voice of God that he had heard.
Peter participated with God in initiating a viral, world-wide revolution of love.
Peter, a Jew, fully embraced the vocation and destiny of Israel: in word and action, He put God on display among the nations. Because he did, the multi-cultural, global Bride began to take shape and, empowered by the Holy Spirit, assumed the same vocation and destiny of Israel: to become the accurate demonstration of God in the unique soil of the now.
This raises our theological questions: What about Israel? Are there now two distinct communities with the same vocation? Did the Church replace Israel?
Some would suggest that Israel has been punitively replaced by the Church due to Israel's rejection of Jesus and His work on the Cross.
In response, I would suggest that, while many reject God, God rejects no one. He zealously chases after us...all of us. I would suggest that goal of the Cross is to reconcile, not to divide; to include, not to exclude.
Some would suggest that Israel has been functionally replaced by the Church due to Israel's rejection of Jesus and His work on the Cross.
In response, I would affirm the teachings of the Scriptures: Gentiles have been grafted into the Jewish vine. That is, Jesus did not plant a new tree; rather, through the Cross and Resurrection, He had the authority to graft us in.
Some would suggest that Israel made her final decision in her rejection of Jesus and, therefore, has no hope of being included in the New Community that God is making.
In response, I would suggest that, like everyone else, contemporary Israelis must decide what they do with Jesus. Like me, they can choose to acknowledge that their sin has interrupted their relationship with God, themselves and the other or not. Like me, they can either choose to identify with the crucified or with the crucifier. The choice that we make will radically impact they way we see, interact, and participate with God, ourselves, and the "other."
Thus, in exploring this tiny facet of our larger third question, perhaps we have addressed the entire question. That is, we are to think about the Israeli/Palestinian Conflict through the lenses of the redemptive, all-of-humanity-focused, Cross. For, on the Cross, God says to every person of every tribe: "YOU are worth my Son!"
Before wading in to this, I want to offer eight brief thoughts that form some of my frame on theology:
1. We are all theologians: We all have thoughts about who and how God is.
2. We are all practicing theologians: Our thoughts about God inform how we live. Therefore, thinking carefully about the who and how of God is essential.
3. Our theology will eternally shift: God is fully committed to our process of becoming...our becoming like Him will take forever.
4. Theology unites and divides: For good and for bad, we tend to pitch our tents near those whose theology is like ours and far from those whose theology is different.
5. Theology is mostly retroactive: We tend to develop theology to justify what we do to others.
6. Theology is but a thin mist of reality. Language that is created to describe our thoughts about God represents the slightest fraction of who and how God really is.
7. Sometimes our theology is wrong. It is when we convince ourselves that "our" theology is "right" that we wade into a kind of calcified arrogance that interrupts our relationship with God, and others.
8. God longs to be known...thus, the reason He created us with a mind and with senses. His knowability and longing to be known is THE reason He put on flesh and camped in our neighborhood.
Thinking theologically is a comprehensive, life-long pursuit. From my perspective, God is always in the process of forming, adjusting, shifting, and even changing our theology. I see this most explicitly in Acts 10 as God very clearly changes Peter's theology.
In the story, Peter has a very clear theological stance that, in his opinion, is right, complete, and air-tight. His calcified theology told him that God was for Israel, that God had a "side", that the gospel was for Israel only, and that, therefore, his attention was to be directed exclusively on Israel. He was crystal clear on who God was, how God worked, and who God was for...or so he thought.
In a hunger-induced vision on the rooftop of a taxidermist's house (read the irony here!), God began to change Peter's theology: Don't exclude anyone...I AM for everyone!
With shifting theology, Peter moved toward people whom he'd never imagined that he would move toward: Gentiles (the nations)! Because he did, the Story of a Redemptive God flooded into the home of a Gentile and the viral, global movement of the Kingdom of God was ignited.
Peter allowed his theology to shift.
He was humble, curious, and teachable.
Peter found himself among those he formerly referred to as defiled.
His shifting theology caused him to humanize others and to stand in solidarity with them. He crossed their threshold. He became the resident in the embrace of Gentile hospitality.
Peter, no doubt, was scratching his head, wondering if it was okay that he was there.
It was a huge risk. It could have cost him is reputation and standing. He could have been wrong...it might have been the voice of hunger rather than the voice of God that he had heard.
Peter participated with God in initiating a viral, world-wide revolution of love.
Peter, a Jew, fully embraced the vocation and destiny of Israel: in word and action, He put God on display among the nations. Because he did, the multi-cultural, global Bride began to take shape and, empowered by the Holy Spirit, assumed the same vocation and destiny of Israel: to become the accurate demonstration of God in the unique soil of the now.
This raises our theological questions: What about Israel? Are there now two distinct communities with the same vocation? Did the Church replace Israel?
Some would suggest that Israel has been punitively replaced by the Church due to Israel's rejection of Jesus and His work on the Cross.
In response, I would suggest that, while many reject God, God rejects no one. He zealously chases after us...all of us. I would suggest that goal of the Cross is to reconcile, not to divide; to include, not to exclude.
Some would suggest that Israel has been functionally replaced by the Church due to Israel's rejection of Jesus and His work on the Cross.
In response, I would affirm the teachings of the Scriptures: Gentiles have been grafted into the Jewish vine. That is, Jesus did not plant a new tree; rather, through the Cross and Resurrection, He had the authority to graft us in.
Some would suggest that Israel made her final decision in her rejection of Jesus and, therefore, has no hope of being included in the New Community that God is making.
In response, I would suggest that, like everyone else, contemporary Israelis must decide what they do with Jesus. Like me, they can choose to acknowledge that their sin has interrupted their relationship with God, themselves and the other or not. Like me, they can either choose to identify with the crucified or with the crucifier. The choice that we make will radically impact they way we see, interact, and participate with God, ourselves, and the "other."
Thus, in exploring this tiny facet of our larger third question, perhaps we have addressed the entire question. That is, we are to think about the Israeli/Palestinian Conflict through the lenses of the redemptive, all-of-humanity-focused, Cross. For, on the Cross, God says to every person of every tribe: "YOU are worth my Son!"
Question 2: What do we do with the Conquering God of the Hebrew Scriptures?
Perhaps before moving into this second question, it would be helpful to re-read my previous posts entitled "Yad Vashem and the Jewish Paradigm" and "Story Start Points: The Root of Societal PTSD". Both will give context to the work that we're going to do below.
...
My first encounters with Israel occurred hours before my airplane touched down in Tel Aviv. As I waited for my delayed plane to begin boarding, I was captivated by the pious activities of the very large number of Orthodox Jews who waited with me.
At our gate, a window gave view to the massive light-blue nose of the jumbo jet that we were waiting to board. This particular window faced East (it faced Jerusalem), so to this window, the Orthodox Jewish men, dressed in black suits with long coats and black full-brim hats, gathered to begin their full-body rhythmic prayers. I watched with rapt curiosity as nearly fifty men rocked back and forth and sounded their prayers toward Jerusalem.
Once on board and, having been in the air for seven hours, I awoke from a restless sleep to see the man sitting next to me no longer sitting. Rather, he was standing, shrouded in his white and black prayer shawl, arm wrapped with leather strap, and rocking to the same rhythm as were the men at the window in New York.
"Israeli Jews are extremely religious people!" I thought to myself. I began to wonder if all of Israeli Jews were as religious...as pious...as the man now standing and rocking next to me.
It didn't take long to recognize that the nation of Israel is not nearly as religious as the man who shared my cramped airborne quarters. While Orthodox Jews have a growing presence in the land, I would suggest that, rather than Israel's faith experience being Judaism, it is, in fact, atheism. In dialogue with a Rabbi, I also discovered that contemporary Judaism is 10% informed by the Hebrew Scriptures and 90% informed by what the Rabbis have said over the years. Thus, the Judaism of today is far different from the experience of the Israelites of old.
In light of the predominance of atheism and the evolution of Judaism, I was stunned to hear Israeli Jews, atheistic, pious, and cultural, repeatedly justify both their rights to the land and the unjust ways in which they are repossessing it in the name of YHWH, the Conquering God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
"In our Scriptures, our God justified violence in order that we might take the Promised Land."
This created a crisis for me. It is true. The image of the Conquering God does seem to be prevalent, especially as Israel crossed through the Jordan River and into the Promised Land. What do I do with that? How might we understand Joshua and the conquest narratives within? What do we do with the Conquering God of the Hebrew Scriptures especially when this imagery is being used to initiate an ethnic cleansing today?
Let me highlight two alternative readings of the Conquering God imagery of the Hebrew Scriptures.
First, if taken literally, we can understand the time and place of the conquest of the Promise Land as a time and place far different than today. This was a time and place, void of foreign diplomacy and the United Nations, where disputes were settled by war and conquest. The rules of the day were conquer or be conquered; to be served by or to serve another. Simultaneously, this was a world rich in mythology where it was believed that the gods fought on the behalf of their people. Thus, the conquest of one nation by another pronounced the supremacy of not only that people but also of that people's deity.
Consider Israel. They had just spent generations (430 years) in chains under the rule of the extremely spiritual Egyptians. The Egyptians had no chief god; rather, they had deities over specific spheres: the earth, the sky, the Nile River, the fields, the livestock, etc. Their polytheism created an incredibly complicated experience of life: constant blessing of the gods was necessary in order to be blessed. Constant blessing required constant reminders: thus the creation of massive statues and monuments. The idea was, if the Egyptians made big, elaborate enough statues and monuments of their gods, then the people would constantly see, be reminded, and bless the gods and, therefore, the gods would be pleased. In slavery, the Israelites were the primary workforce behind the creation of the statues and monuments of the Egyptian gods.
In chains, Israel built the monuments to the gods of the most powerful, influential, affluent, seemingly blessed people in the world. A generations-long experience of this does something to a people's perspective of their God, themselves, others, and other's gods. For years, they had cried out for YHWH to deliver them and for years YHWH had seemingly remained silent. I imagine that, after years of feeling ignored, the appeal of Egypt's pantheon of gods and goddesses increased.
Into the complexity of this, YHWH entered the created order in the form of fire: he was eternal combustion without consumption and He got Moses' attention. He had heard the cries of His people and was going to do something about it. Because Moses' heart broke for the same thing (reference his two failed rescue attempts in Exodus 2), God invited him to participate in being a part of the solution. Eventually, Moses agreed and God demonstrated that was not "one of" the gods but was, in fact "THE One": as Egypt (and their pantheon of gods) licked their wounds, the people went free.
However, freedom was a dynamic experience for Israel. They stumbled into the wilderness like a new-born fawn: they had no idea how to survive as a people. Watching from within the community, God said, "I need to teach my people how to live!"
"Hear O Israel, the LORD your God. The LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all of your heart, with all of your soul, with all of your strength."
Their wilderness wander was an experience through which God taught them who He was, who they were, and what it meant for them to live as participants in His unfolding Story. They were to be the light to the nations. Dancing in the rhythms of the Creator, their vocation was to become an accurate demonstration of who God is; their destiny was to bless the whole world.
After a forty-year wander, they crossed through the Jordan River and into the Promised Land as a new generation. Far different from a democracy, they existed in a theocracy where YHWH was their God, their King, their Mighty Warrior, and their Provider. In the Promised Land, God's formation of Israel shifted from the learning-lab of wilderness wander to the learning-lab of disproportionate war.
With God, Israel would enter in to each battle as the underdog and, if they were faithful, they would come out victorious. Complete victory, an ancient common-place practice of warfare where no one was left living, was to give evidence to the might of a people's god. Complete victory is what YHWH desired as, through complete victory, YHWH would be seen by the watching world as THE God. Simultaneously, complete victory would enable a new generation of previously oppressed people to establish life in the way of the Creator in a specific place.
If taken literally both the Conquering God and the conquest was real and happened in a time and place where this kind of foreign policy was the standard. However, to justify a contemporary ethnic cleansing and formation of an ethnic state in the name of the Conquering God found in Joshua is unreasonable, unjust, and internationally illegal.
There is a second way to consider the image of the Conquering God in the Hebrew Scriptures.
A common understanding of the Pentateuch (Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy) suggests that Moses wrote these five books. If that is the case, then it stands to reason that God whispered not only the words of the Law (10 Commandments, etc.) but also the two Genesis accounts of creation, the Garden of Eden, Noah and his ark, etc.
Internal evidence suggests a different possibility. For example, if one were to place the first Genesis account of creation (Genesis 1) next to the earlier Babylonian account of creation, one would find remarkable similarities.
Enuma Elish is the name of the Babylonian account that predates the Genesis account by several hundred years and tells the story of the gods, how the universe was created, and why human beings were introduced into the story. In short, the universe occurred as a result of a god's death and human beings were created to work for the gods by doing the things that the gods despised.
The author of Genesis tells an oddly similar story. It's a story about God, how the universe was created, and why human beings were introduced into the story. However, rather than the story being about the gods, it is about The God who, rather than creation occurring as an accident, very intentionally and lovingly spoke existence into being. Most importantly, the Genesis story exposes humanity as the pinnacle of God's creation: unlike any other creation, human beings were created in the very image of God.
The question is, if the Genesis accounts were influenced by the Babylonian account, how did this happen and why?
Let me suggest a possible answer.
First, we'd need to consider the fact that Israel's form of storytelling was not written...it was oral. The story of the ancients were augmented, enhanced, changed, and passed down from generation to generation. This is the nature of the oral tradition. It is not likely, therefore, that Moses had, or would even have needed, to write down the stories of the past. Eventually, however, it became became important for the stories to be decided upon and locked into a new medium: the written word.
As to when this actually occurred, no one is certain. However, there exits a fair amount of internal evidence from within the pages of the early Scriptures that it may have occurred while Israel was in captivity in Babylon.
If this is the case, then two primary (among others) questions likely informed the ways in which the stories were recorded: "Who is our God?" and "How did we get here?" That is, in drafting the stories, Israel sought to make sense of who God was, who they were, and how they had arrived in captivity (again).
Within this theory, the story-forming began by answering the question about God, the universe, and the existence of humanity by borrowing from the myth of their captors. However, while they borrowed the Babylonian myth, they took creative liberty with it so to identify the supremacy of YHWH. That is, in captivity they needed to believe that YHWH was stronger than the gods of their captors. Next, they reminded themselves of a former captivity (Egypt) in which YHWH had proved Himself as the One who heard and responded to His people: they reminded themselves of YHWH who proved Himself mightier than the gods of Egypt. The story continued with the YHWH's promise to Abraham coming true in the conquest of the Promised Land. YHWH was their God, their King, their Mighty Warrior, their Provider!
The problem was, they were in captivity again. How had they gotten here? Something had gone wrong such that they found themselves in chains again.
The primary answer, found in the voices of the pre-exile prophets, is Israel's idolatry. They had allowed the pagan practices and cultural gods and goddesses of their context to become marbled into their experience of worship. They had failed to worship YHWH exclusively and, therefore, found themselves in chains.
But there had to be an explanation for the idolatry, right? There had to be someone else to blame for the suffering of Israel in Babylon. Someone, somewhere, once upon a time, had certainly done something wrong...right?
Enter the created imagery of a Conquering God who sought complete victory. Enter the imagery of the Conquering God who is for us and against the nations. Enter the Conquering God who validated ethnic cleansing in order that the land could be inhabited by Israel. Simultaneously, enter the imagery of a former generation (not us!) who didn't do what they were told and gave entrance to idolatry.
"They (the former generation) are the reason we are captives in Babylon."
If taken retrospectively, the imagery of the Conquering God was developed to explain a current experience of suffering and to generate hope that He was capable of their release as He had been once before. Thus, to justify a contemporary ethnic cleansing and formation of an ethnic state in the name of the Conquering God found in Joshua is unreasonable, unjust, and internationally illegal.
Therefore, regardless of which of the two alternative readings one prefers, neither of the two justify what is currently taking place in Israel.
Let me conclude with a couple of additional thoughts from within the pages of both the Hebrew Scriptures and the New Testament:
First, the prophets give voice to a God who is for Israel, is for justice, and is for the nations.
Second, the prophets give voice to a God who consistently implores Israel to be the light to the nations by humanizing them, moving toward them, and practicing justice on their behalf.
Third, the prophets give voice to a God who says, "I am for the oppressed, the persecuted, the marginalized, and the occupied even if they are not you, Israel."
Fourth, as followers of Jesus, we are to read the Hebrew Scriptures through the lenses of Jesus. While Jesus references the Exodus, he never references nor validates a conquest of the Promise Land. If there is a conquering that Jesus exposes, it is God's complete victory over the power of sin.
Fifth, Jesus said things like, "Blessed are the peacemakers." (Matthew 5:9) and "When power is abused and you're the victim, don't get even, get creative in love." (Matthew 5:38-42). Jesus taught and then embodied these teachings and it cost Him His life. The greatest news, though, is that He didn't stay dead: Jesus, the living, resurrected reality invites and empowers us, by His Spirit, to live likewise.
...
My first encounters with Israel occurred hours before my airplane touched down in Tel Aviv. As I waited for my delayed plane to begin boarding, I was captivated by the pious activities of the very large number of Orthodox Jews who waited with me.
At our gate, a window gave view to the massive light-blue nose of the jumbo jet that we were waiting to board. This particular window faced East (it faced Jerusalem), so to this window, the Orthodox Jewish men, dressed in black suits with long coats and black full-brim hats, gathered to begin their full-body rhythmic prayers. I watched with rapt curiosity as nearly fifty men rocked back and forth and sounded their prayers toward Jerusalem.
Once on board and, having been in the air for seven hours, I awoke from a restless sleep to see the man sitting next to me no longer sitting. Rather, he was standing, shrouded in his white and black prayer shawl, arm wrapped with leather strap, and rocking to the same rhythm as were the men at the window in New York.
"Israeli Jews are extremely religious people!" I thought to myself. I began to wonder if all of Israeli Jews were as religious...as pious...as the man now standing and rocking next to me.
It didn't take long to recognize that the nation of Israel is not nearly as religious as the man who shared my cramped airborne quarters. While Orthodox Jews have a growing presence in the land, I would suggest that, rather than Israel's faith experience being Judaism, it is, in fact, atheism. In dialogue with a Rabbi, I also discovered that contemporary Judaism is 10% informed by the Hebrew Scriptures and 90% informed by what the Rabbis have said over the years. Thus, the Judaism of today is far different from the experience of the Israelites of old.
In light of the predominance of atheism and the evolution of Judaism, I was stunned to hear Israeli Jews, atheistic, pious, and cultural, repeatedly justify both their rights to the land and the unjust ways in which they are repossessing it in the name of YHWH, the Conquering God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
"In our Scriptures, our God justified violence in order that we might take the Promised Land."
This created a crisis for me. It is true. The image of the Conquering God does seem to be prevalent, especially as Israel crossed through the Jordan River and into the Promised Land. What do I do with that? How might we understand Joshua and the conquest narratives within? What do we do with the Conquering God of the Hebrew Scriptures especially when this imagery is being used to initiate an ethnic cleansing today?
Let me highlight two alternative readings of the Conquering God imagery of the Hebrew Scriptures.
First, if taken literally, we can understand the time and place of the conquest of the Promise Land as a time and place far different than today. This was a time and place, void of foreign diplomacy and the United Nations, where disputes were settled by war and conquest. The rules of the day were conquer or be conquered; to be served by or to serve another. Simultaneously, this was a world rich in mythology where it was believed that the gods fought on the behalf of their people. Thus, the conquest of one nation by another pronounced the supremacy of not only that people but also of that people's deity.
Consider Israel. They had just spent generations (430 years) in chains under the rule of the extremely spiritual Egyptians. The Egyptians had no chief god; rather, they had deities over specific spheres: the earth, the sky, the Nile River, the fields, the livestock, etc. Their polytheism created an incredibly complicated experience of life: constant blessing of the gods was necessary in order to be blessed. Constant blessing required constant reminders: thus the creation of massive statues and monuments. The idea was, if the Egyptians made big, elaborate enough statues and monuments of their gods, then the people would constantly see, be reminded, and bless the gods and, therefore, the gods would be pleased. In slavery, the Israelites were the primary workforce behind the creation of the statues and monuments of the Egyptian gods.
In chains, Israel built the monuments to the gods of the most powerful, influential, affluent, seemingly blessed people in the world. A generations-long experience of this does something to a people's perspective of their God, themselves, others, and other's gods. For years, they had cried out for YHWH to deliver them and for years YHWH had seemingly remained silent. I imagine that, after years of feeling ignored, the appeal of Egypt's pantheon of gods and goddesses increased.
Into the complexity of this, YHWH entered the created order in the form of fire: he was eternal combustion without consumption and He got Moses' attention. He had heard the cries of His people and was going to do something about it. Because Moses' heart broke for the same thing (reference his two failed rescue attempts in Exodus 2), God invited him to participate in being a part of the solution. Eventually, Moses agreed and God demonstrated that was not "one of" the gods but was, in fact "THE One": as Egypt (and their pantheon of gods) licked their wounds, the people went free.
However, freedom was a dynamic experience for Israel. They stumbled into the wilderness like a new-born fawn: they had no idea how to survive as a people. Watching from within the community, God said, "I need to teach my people how to live!"
"Hear O Israel, the LORD your God. The LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all of your heart, with all of your soul, with all of your strength."
Their wilderness wander was an experience through which God taught them who He was, who they were, and what it meant for them to live as participants in His unfolding Story. They were to be the light to the nations. Dancing in the rhythms of the Creator, their vocation was to become an accurate demonstration of who God is; their destiny was to bless the whole world.
After a forty-year wander, they crossed through the Jordan River and into the Promised Land as a new generation. Far different from a democracy, they existed in a theocracy where YHWH was their God, their King, their Mighty Warrior, and their Provider. In the Promised Land, God's formation of Israel shifted from the learning-lab of wilderness wander to the learning-lab of disproportionate war.
With God, Israel would enter in to each battle as the underdog and, if they were faithful, they would come out victorious. Complete victory, an ancient common-place practice of warfare where no one was left living, was to give evidence to the might of a people's god. Complete victory is what YHWH desired as, through complete victory, YHWH would be seen by the watching world as THE God. Simultaneously, complete victory would enable a new generation of previously oppressed people to establish life in the way of the Creator in a specific place.
If taken literally both the Conquering God and the conquest was real and happened in a time and place where this kind of foreign policy was the standard. However, to justify a contemporary ethnic cleansing and formation of an ethnic state in the name of the Conquering God found in Joshua is unreasonable, unjust, and internationally illegal.
There is a second way to consider the image of the Conquering God in the Hebrew Scriptures.
A common understanding of the Pentateuch (Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy) suggests that Moses wrote these five books. If that is the case, then it stands to reason that God whispered not only the words of the Law (10 Commandments, etc.) but also the two Genesis accounts of creation, the Garden of Eden, Noah and his ark, etc.
Internal evidence suggests a different possibility. For example, if one were to place the first Genesis account of creation (Genesis 1) next to the earlier Babylonian account of creation, one would find remarkable similarities.
Enuma Elish is the name of the Babylonian account that predates the Genesis account by several hundred years and tells the story of the gods, how the universe was created, and why human beings were introduced into the story. In short, the universe occurred as a result of a god's death and human beings were created to work for the gods by doing the things that the gods despised.
The author of Genesis tells an oddly similar story. It's a story about God, how the universe was created, and why human beings were introduced into the story. However, rather than the story being about the gods, it is about The God who, rather than creation occurring as an accident, very intentionally and lovingly spoke existence into being. Most importantly, the Genesis story exposes humanity as the pinnacle of God's creation: unlike any other creation, human beings were created in the very image of God.
The question is, if the Genesis accounts were influenced by the Babylonian account, how did this happen and why?
Let me suggest a possible answer.
First, we'd need to consider the fact that Israel's form of storytelling was not written...it was oral. The story of the ancients were augmented, enhanced, changed, and passed down from generation to generation. This is the nature of the oral tradition. It is not likely, therefore, that Moses had, or would even have needed, to write down the stories of the past. Eventually, however, it became became important for the stories to be decided upon and locked into a new medium: the written word.
As to when this actually occurred, no one is certain. However, there exits a fair amount of internal evidence from within the pages of the early Scriptures that it may have occurred while Israel was in captivity in Babylon.
If this is the case, then two primary (among others) questions likely informed the ways in which the stories were recorded: "Who is our God?" and "How did we get here?" That is, in drafting the stories, Israel sought to make sense of who God was, who they were, and how they had arrived in captivity (again).
Within this theory, the story-forming began by answering the question about God, the universe, and the existence of humanity by borrowing from the myth of their captors. However, while they borrowed the Babylonian myth, they took creative liberty with it so to identify the supremacy of YHWH. That is, in captivity they needed to believe that YHWH was stronger than the gods of their captors. Next, they reminded themselves of a former captivity (Egypt) in which YHWH had proved Himself as the One who heard and responded to His people: they reminded themselves of YHWH who proved Himself mightier than the gods of Egypt. The story continued with the YHWH's promise to Abraham coming true in the conquest of the Promised Land. YHWH was their God, their King, their Mighty Warrior, their Provider!
The problem was, they were in captivity again. How had they gotten here? Something had gone wrong such that they found themselves in chains again.
The primary answer, found in the voices of the pre-exile prophets, is Israel's idolatry. They had allowed the pagan practices and cultural gods and goddesses of their context to become marbled into their experience of worship. They had failed to worship YHWH exclusively and, therefore, found themselves in chains.
But there had to be an explanation for the idolatry, right? There had to be someone else to blame for the suffering of Israel in Babylon. Someone, somewhere, once upon a time, had certainly done something wrong...right?
Enter the created imagery of a Conquering God who sought complete victory. Enter the imagery of the Conquering God who is for us and against the nations. Enter the Conquering God who validated ethnic cleansing in order that the land could be inhabited by Israel. Simultaneously, enter the imagery of a former generation (not us!) who didn't do what they were told and gave entrance to idolatry.
"They (the former generation) are the reason we are captives in Babylon."
If taken retrospectively, the imagery of the Conquering God was developed to explain a current experience of suffering and to generate hope that He was capable of their release as He had been once before. Thus, to justify a contemporary ethnic cleansing and formation of an ethnic state in the name of the Conquering God found in Joshua is unreasonable, unjust, and internationally illegal.
Therefore, regardless of which of the two alternative readings one prefers, neither of the two justify what is currently taking place in Israel.
Let me conclude with a couple of additional thoughts from within the pages of both the Hebrew Scriptures and the New Testament:
First, the prophets give voice to a God who is for Israel, is for justice, and is for the nations.
Second, the prophets give voice to a God who consistently implores Israel to be the light to the nations by humanizing them, moving toward them, and practicing justice on their behalf.
Third, the prophets give voice to a God who says, "I am for the oppressed, the persecuted, the marginalized, and the occupied even if they are not you, Israel."
Fourth, as followers of Jesus, we are to read the Hebrew Scriptures through the lenses of Jesus. While Jesus references the Exodus, he never references nor validates a conquest of the Promise Land. If there is a conquering that Jesus exposes, it is God's complete victory over the power of sin.
Fifth, Jesus said things like, "Blessed are the peacemakers." (Matthew 5:9) and "When power is abused and you're the victim, don't get even, get creative in love." (Matthew 5:38-42). Jesus taught and then embodied these teachings and it cost Him His life. The greatest news, though, is that He didn't stay dead: Jesus, the living, resurrected reality invites and empowers us, by His Spirit, to live likewise.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)