Sunday, November 25, 2018
A Gentle Kick In the Pants of Conviction From A Poor Widow
THE BACKGROUND
About two years ago, I was asked to co-pastor a small church plant in the area where I grew up. The more we got involved in that church plant, the more excited I got about it. For the most part and in many ways, we were basically doing exactly what I had hoped to do in a church for quite some time. That’s the direction we were heading, at least. The lead pastor and I were being shaped and formed by the same teachers, and members of the community were being shaped into Jesus in profound ways that run directly counter to the cultural values that shape most every other church I’ve ever seen or been a part of.
It was glorious and beautiful. About eight months ago now, that church fell apart in tragedy and trauma.
Since then, I haven't had a church to call home. I have floated around between two different churches. Sometimes, I have stayed home and “done something spiritual”…or something. One of the churches I have popped in and out of is an African American church near where I live and in which I have some close relationships with some people I respect greatly and learn from in deeply profound ways. The other is a Reformed church, the one from which I was "sent" to plant the church that eventually fell apart.
I love both churches. But, now that I have tasted the sweet flavor of committing to something I felt so comfortable committing to, I feel lost. I no longer feel comfortable committing to the very church where I was a member previously. Granted, I committed there while knowing I didn't agree with them on everything, and even on some important things (I lean Anabaptist). And, granted, I hadn't committed to the African American church before at all. But, I likely would have if presented with the opportunity at the time, all things being even.
In this time of a kind of self-imposed exile, I also haven't been giving (in the form of tithing). After all, where would I give/tithe? I have felt somewhat conflicted about this, but I saw it as a symptom of my pilgrimage. And, I figured God would lead me to give and tithe somewhere when and as He led me to tie down somewhere in the first place. I knew I had some baggage to unpack, anyway. Though I wasn't sure what said baggage even was.
THE POOR WIDOW
Back in mid-September, I went to NYC for a prayer school with Brian Zahnd. I have since then been praying as I was taught, basically every day. Soon thereafter, a bunch of beautiful things started happening. Well, now one of them is that God used a poor Palestinian widow and a dear African American friend to gently kick me pants of my convictions.
Remember the background here. The reason I haven't felt comfortable committing to either of the above noted churches is because of deeply held beliefs and practices that I don't agree with, mostly centered around questions of Western imperial power, coercion, and control that shape our epistemology, ecclesiology, economics, ideology, and hermeneutics (among other things).
With that in mind, in prayer last weekend, God gently but powerfully confronted me with the difference between my attitude and that of the poor widow.
Out of her love for God and people, this poor widow not only gives “everything she has” but also trusts that God is present and at work among a community that appears - very obviously, I might add - to be ruled by a pretentious brood of vipers who "devour the houses" of women just like her. The leaders and figureheads of the community into which she is entrusting herself are the very reason she has so little to give!
In the end, her trust turns out to be not because of the pretentious vipers but because of the presence of Jesus, the very one who was sitting there watching her put “all she had” in the coffers.
There was a message here for me. I’m not in exactly the same situation, but an analogous one. It is a poor and incomplete analogy for my situation, though, since none of the leaders of either of the above noted churches are "pretentious vipers." It is still, however, for me a useful analogy. Or perhaps for God, since this happened in prayer.
In any case, her trust that God is present and at work in a people who leave her the victim of great injustice gently revealed to me that I have not been trusting in God to be present and at work among a people who, on the one hand, are in many ways complicit with unjust powers (as I perceive the situation) but, on the other hand, have consistently shown that they care about me.
I may see ways in which unjust powers are at work among the churches, and it frustrates me, but I am no where near in the position of that poor widow. If she can muster some trust and faith for her community, and I can’t, then….well…then what?
So, last weekend, in prayer, I felt a sense of conviction that God was at work to lead me to commit and bind myself to a community sooner rather than later. That my “time of exile” was coming to a close. But, I had a sense that God had something left to do, still. Some healing after the trauma. I had a vague sense that maybe it wasn’t injustice that was preventing my commitment. After all, Jesus entrusted himself to Israel and humanity, and look how that went over. That didn’t stop him.
Maybe my pride in knowing the things I knew that enabled me to see the things I see was the real point of difference from the “Poor Widow.” Maybe that was what was really preventing me from entrusting myself to the people of God. Maybe she was just more humble than me. But….but that sense of mine was pretty vague. Its contours were pretty blurry.
THE GENTLE KICK IN THE PANTS
This morning, before attending the above noted African American church, I had a beautifully fruitful discussion on Facebook with a whole different African American friend who I met over a year ago at a church planting conference. He posted the following (about John Chau, btw):
In a sense, the context of his post doesn’t matter. It was about the national conversation about John Chau’s death, but, the second part, especially, could have been about just about anything in our world: politics, economics, fallen celebrity pastors, etc.
Remember, though, that the background here is my frustration – a euphemism for occasional anger, really – with the church. So, this post from my friend struck a deep chord with me. The above noted reasons for peoples’ anger with the church are basically the exact same as my own. Except that the story isn’t only in the past but also the present. As an (prime) example of my point, the segregation between the two churches I’ve considered committing to again is precisely because of the “colonialism, racism, genocide, rape, coercion, and everything else used to ‘spread the gospel’.”
A wise black man commented on my friend’s post that perhaps we shouldn’t blame “the church,” since these are issues propagated by the WHITE church. Not the black church. My African American friend – Michael is his name – pushed back on that a bit, noting:
Michael touched my open wound. So, I gingerly weighed in. I talked in a fair bit of detail about the ways my friends at the African American church I attend teach me about lament, acceptance of reality, and patience in the face of injustice, but that their basic model for "church" seems to be built on white, imperial power structures. So, I lamented that the very reasons for the segregation between the two churches I’m trying to choose between are at work in both. I noted that deep and very personal conversations with some members of that African American church, along with reading Willie Jennings on “Whiteness,” have helped me to understand why that is the case. But, I felt like this was only a glimmer of understanding. I also noted how heavy my heart was as I shared what I had seen and experienced in the African American church.
To the point of Michael’s post, he didn’t respond with anger, defensiveness, distancing, or scapegoating. He had this to say:
And now “the kicker”….
OK well that was a gentle kick in the pants...and very helpful.
So, it turns out that if the Poor Widow can muster measures of trust, faith, love – and commitment - for her community, and I can’t, then…well…then I’m full of pride that I didn’t know was there…until God, through Michael, helped me to see it.
It turns out that the very things I was lamenting were shaping my response to the problems I was perceiving. I was trying to address them “from above.” I was not “committed to the slow work of meeting people where they are even if they don't think issues are as pressing as I think.” Heck, I wasn’t even “in”…any church at all! I was not “invested in local, small work.” And, to my vague point above about pride in what I know, I wanted people to care how much I’ve read, theologically or not (that's a slight exaggeration, because I really do care about the issues themselves, but likely only a slight exaggeration). Basically, I was on a power trip.
“You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” “Community work is humbling AF LOL”
I still don’t know where I’m going to end up. But, after the above noted “Graceful Kick In the Pants” conversation, my prayer this morning was a fairly well articulated one that God, in His grace and presence by which He’s given me to see my pride in the first place, help me not use my knowledge that distinguishes me from others to separate myself from them. To not unconsciously – and even against my conscious will – treat others as though they are separate from and below me, since they don’t know what I know (at least not apparently). To be honest, that sounds utterly stupid as I even type it out and proofread it. But, functionally speaking, it’s obviously the reality of what I’ve been doing in my life.
The whole point of why I was given the knowledge I’ve been given in the first place was and is the presence and grace of Jesus among us as one crucified, as one who suffers for others-centered, self-sacrificial love. It was the pursuit of Jesus that led to seeing the importance of his victory over the powers of this world in particular ways that said powers are typically taken for granted and left unquestioned. Perhaps I can be given to use what I know to exactly that end rather than to the ends I was apparently using it previously in my church plant without realizing it – while I was tithing, btw. Maybe the poor widow had more to give than I did in the first place, but God used her to give me more of what she had.
About two years ago, I was asked to co-pastor a small church plant in the area where I grew up. The more we got involved in that church plant, the more excited I got about it. For the most part and in many ways, we were basically doing exactly what I had hoped to do in a church for quite some time. That’s the direction we were heading, at least. The lead pastor and I were being shaped and formed by the same teachers, and members of the community were being shaped into Jesus in profound ways that run directly counter to the cultural values that shape most every other church I’ve ever seen or been a part of.
It was glorious and beautiful. About eight months ago now, that church fell apart in tragedy and trauma.
Since then, I haven't had a church to call home. I have floated around between two different churches. Sometimes, I have stayed home and “done something spiritual”…or something. One of the churches I have popped in and out of is an African American church near where I live and in which I have some close relationships with some people I respect greatly and learn from in deeply profound ways. The other is a Reformed church, the one from which I was "sent" to plant the church that eventually fell apart.
I love both churches. But, now that I have tasted the sweet flavor of committing to something I felt so comfortable committing to, I feel lost. I no longer feel comfortable committing to the very church where I was a member previously. Granted, I committed there while knowing I didn't agree with them on everything, and even on some important things (I lean Anabaptist). And, granted, I hadn't committed to the African American church before at all. But, I likely would have if presented with the opportunity at the time, all things being even.
In this time of a kind of self-imposed exile, I also haven't been giving (in the form of tithing). After all, where would I give/tithe? I have felt somewhat conflicted about this, but I saw it as a symptom of my pilgrimage. And, I figured God would lead me to give and tithe somewhere when and as He led me to tie down somewhere in the first place. I knew I had some baggage to unpack, anyway. Though I wasn't sure what said baggage even was.
THE POOR WIDOW
Back in mid-September, I went to NYC for a prayer school with Brian Zahnd. I have since then been praying as I was taught, basically every day. Soon thereafter, a bunch of beautiful things started happening. Well, now one of them is that God used a poor Palestinian widow and a dear African American friend to gently kick me pants of my convictions.
And in his teaching he said, “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes and like greetings in the marketplaces and have the best seats in the synagogues and the places of honor at feasts, who devour widows’ houses and for a pretense make long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.”
And he sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. And he called his disciples to him and said to them, “Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”
Mark 12:38-44
Remember the background here. The reason I haven't felt comfortable committing to either of the above noted churches is because of deeply held beliefs and practices that I don't agree with, mostly centered around questions of Western imperial power, coercion, and control that shape our epistemology, ecclesiology, economics, ideology, and hermeneutics (among other things).
With that in mind, in prayer last weekend, God gently but powerfully confronted me with the difference between my attitude and that of the poor widow.
Out of her love for God and people, this poor widow not only gives “everything she has” but also trusts that God is present and at work among a community that appears - very obviously, I might add - to be ruled by a pretentious brood of vipers who "devour the houses" of women just like her. The leaders and figureheads of the community into which she is entrusting herself are the very reason she has so little to give!
In the end, her trust turns out to be not because of the pretentious vipers but because of the presence of Jesus, the very one who was sitting there watching her put “all she had” in the coffers.
There was a message here for me. I’m not in exactly the same situation, but an analogous one. It is a poor and incomplete analogy for my situation, though, since none of the leaders of either of the above noted churches are "pretentious vipers." It is still, however, for me a useful analogy. Or perhaps for God, since this happened in prayer.
In any case, her trust that God is present and at work in a people who leave her the victim of great injustice gently revealed to me that I have not been trusting in God to be present and at work among a people who, on the one hand, are in many ways complicit with unjust powers (as I perceive the situation) but, on the other hand, have consistently shown that they care about me.
I may see ways in which unjust powers are at work among the churches, and it frustrates me, but I am no where near in the position of that poor widow. If she can muster some trust and faith for her community, and I can’t, then….well…then what?
So, last weekend, in prayer, I felt a sense of conviction that God was at work to lead me to commit and bind myself to a community sooner rather than later. That my “time of exile” was coming to a close. But, I had a sense that God had something left to do, still. Some healing after the trauma. I had a vague sense that maybe it wasn’t injustice that was preventing my commitment. After all, Jesus entrusted himself to Israel and humanity, and look how that went over. That didn’t stop him.
Maybe my pride in knowing the things I knew that enabled me to see the things I see was the real point of difference from the “Poor Widow.” Maybe that was what was really preventing me from entrusting myself to the people of God. Maybe she was just more humble than me. But….but that sense of mine was pretty vague. Its contours were pretty blurry.
THE GENTLE KICK IN THE PANTS
"Perhaps it’s not sinfulness that causes people to be angry at Xtians. Maybe it’s bc Xtians have done a terrible job of presenting him that people can’t separate colonialism, racism, genocide, rape, coercion, and everything else used to “spread the gospel” from who Jesus really is-- Ally Henny
I think it's important to hold all of these various perspectives together and sit with them. Instead of merely arguing for our own in a posture of defensiveness. The church has wreaked carnage on whole nations and populations that we can't act as if that doesn't shape how many will see and perceive of this narrative.
In a sense, the context of his post doesn’t matter. It was about the national conversation about John Chau’s death, but, the second part, especially, could have been about just about anything in our world: politics, economics, fallen celebrity pastors, etc.
Remember, though, that the background here is my frustration – a euphemism for occasional anger, really – with the church. So, this post from my friend struck a deep chord with me. The above noted reasons for peoples’ anger with the church are basically the exact same as my own. Except that the story isn’t only in the past but also the present. As an (prime) example of my point, the segregation between the two churches I’ve considered committing to again is precisely because of the “colonialism, racism, genocide, rape, coercion, and everything else used to ‘spread the gospel’.”
A wise black man commented on my friend’s post that perhaps we shouldn’t blame “the church,” since these are issues propagated by the WHITE church. Not the black church. My African American friend – Michael is his name – pushed back on that a bit, noting:
“an unhealthy way of relating to power that thrives in [BOTH] ‘black’ churches and ‘white’ churches, even if on smaller scales. All of which hurts our witness and betrays our vocation.”
Michael touched my open wound. So, I gingerly weighed in. I talked in a fair bit of detail about the ways my friends at the African American church I attend teach me about lament, acceptance of reality, and patience in the face of injustice, but that their basic model for "church" seems to be built on white, imperial power structures. So, I lamented that the very reasons for the segregation between the two churches I’m trying to choose between are at work in both. I noted that deep and very personal conversations with some members of that African American church, along with reading Willie Jennings on “Whiteness,” have helped me to understand why that is the case. But, I felt like this was only a glimmer of understanding. I also noted how heavy my heart was as I shared what I had seen and experienced in the African American church.
To the point of Michael’s post, he didn’t respond with anger, defensiveness, distancing, or scapegoating. He had this to say:
Jason Hesiak Honestly, my angst comes from what you've said. Many black churches have simply recontextualized white ecclesial norms, white theological norms, white epistemological norms, etc and simply have to do so with less money or less support with unique challenges that face the black community. That's a problem. It's why I'm not in a rush to tell people "look to the black church" as their knight and shining church because we are just as messy. We all have a lot of unlearning and re-learning to do.…
And now “the kicker”….
Jason Hesiak I also say this as someone currently in the black church, one that I love, and one that is not perfect and fits this in ways that we aren't aware of. I guess that's why I'm more invested in local, small work than attacking issues from above, these issues are so complex and taking the theological formation I have on this space into my community is not easy because who gives AF how much theology I've read? LOL I still have to be committed to the slow work of meeting people where they are even if they don't think issues are as pressing as I think. Community work is humbling AF LOL
OK well that was a gentle kick in the pants...and very helpful.
So, it turns out that if the Poor Widow can muster measures of trust, faith, love – and commitment - for her community, and I can’t, then…well…then I’m full of pride that I didn’t know was there…until God, through Michael, helped me to see it.
It turns out that the very things I was lamenting were shaping my response to the problems I was perceiving. I was trying to address them “from above.” I was not “committed to the slow work of meeting people where they are even if they don't think issues are as pressing as I think.” Heck, I wasn’t even “in”…any church at all! I was not “invested in local, small work.” And, to my vague point above about pride in what I know, I wanted people to care how much I’ve read, theologically or not (that's a slight exaggeration, because I really do care about the issues themselves, but likely only a slight exaggeration). Basically, I was on a power trip.
“You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” “Community work is humbling AF LOL”
I still don’t know where I’m going to end up. But, after the above noted “Graceful Kick In the Pants” conversation, my prayer this morning was a fairly well articulated one that God, in His grace and presence by which He’s given me to see my pride in the first place, help me not use my knowledge that distinguishes me from others to separate myself from them. To not unconsciously – and even against my conscious will – treat others as though they are separate from and below me, since they don’t know what I know (at least not apparently). To be honest, that sounds utterly stupid as I even type it out and proofread it. But, functionally speaking, it’s obviously the reality of what I’ve been doing in my life.
The whole point of why I was given the knowledge I’ve been given in the first place was and is the presence and grace of Jesus among us as one crucified, as one who suffers for others-centered, self-sacrificial love. It was the pursuit of Jesus that led to seeing the importance of his victory over the powers of this world in particular ways that said powers are typically taken for granted and left unquestioned. Perhaps I can be given to use what I know to exactly that end rather than to the ends I was apparently using it previously in my church plant without realizing it – while I was tithing, btw. Maybe the poor widow had more to give than I did in the first place, but God used her to give me more of what she had.
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