In the movie Manhunter, based upon the book Red Dragon (the sequel to Silence of the Lambs), Hannibal Lecter is discussing the reason one might kill with Agent Will Graham. He points to countless stories of natural disasters, plane crashes, and disease and states that “when one does what God does enough, you become god.” Lecter is describing his ethic and what may drive a serial killer Graham is pursuing.

The thing is that Lecter gets that wrong. Death is what God defeated through Jesus. Death is of the god of this world according to Paul. So when Christians celebrate death or defend the public spectacle of death, we seek to be like the god of this world rather than the crucified and risen God. Sadly, when that truth is pointed out, the powers and those who are beholden to the powers attack - even clergy in holiness traditions are not immune.

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One way that scripture describes powers is through the metaphor of empire. Egypt, Assyria, Babylon, Persia, and Rome all stand for the idea that might is supreme. This is the manifestation of the god of this world - empire. There is a deep mistrust of God inherent in the pursuit of power through Babylon. When we lean on the power of death, we make void the cross. The folly of empire is that death has already been defeated, but empire seeks to reclaim the power of sin and death as the power of the world - the systems that drive power and ultimately roll over those without voice. Scripture refers to these systems as the “powers and principalities.”

Of course, the great sin of empire is idolatry - treating power as salvation and making rulers and nations into gods. Idolatry is the sin that just will not go away. We tend to think of idols as carved images of deities, but idolatry is so much more subtle. Pop culture often manifests this better than the Church. Star Wars has the explicit idolatry of empire as central to its crisis. From the fall of the Jedi to the ongoing grasp for the Empire to return. The stories of Star Wars are ultimately about the human craving for power, control, and order. But the foil of empire is rebellion against that ideology. In Star Wars it is the rebellion that seeks to set the galaxy free from tyranny through faith and hope.

But the greatest picture of the idolatry of power as expressed in empire is that within the One Ring of Tolkien. The great ring of power becomes an object of desire and causes the downfall of many - including those with good intentions. Sauron created the ring so that he could reshape Middle Earth into the image he believes is good. Of course the very power he wields has twisted that vision into darkness. Saruman is corrupted by the potential of power of the ring and becomes a vassal for Sauron. The darkness so twists Saruman that he is ultimately killed by one he in turn twisted.

The idolatry of empire places us into the role of gods of this world. When power and death become the means of our safety, we are seeking a return to old creation. The crawling and creeping vines of death and sin ensnare us into their seductive hold. Viewing sin and death as spectacle. Seeing the mocking of humanity and of those who need peace and turning our backs is a repudiation of the Christ event. It is a repudiation of the incarnate Christ revealed in Jesus as a resurrected and ascended Lord.

Maybe our god is the god of this world. We sure describe God that way even in the face of evidence that is not God. We cannot celebrate violence and be holy for holiness is love and peace bearing the violence of the world. Holiness is not in the violence of the world; it is the very opposite of violence. We really should not be a people of Lecter when Jesus is the way to know the truth of God.

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There is an impulse in our culture to flatten disparate disciplines and frameworks into a single plane. This flattening raises the difficulty level of having honest and meaningful conversations. It happens across almost every discipline and is fed by the easy access to information. Access to information is both a blessing and a curse because information in isolation is nothing more than words. To understand the context and purpose of information requires more than a passing familiarity with the particular discipline involved.

This is true of several disciplines, but I want to take a look at the ones that often trip Christians up. These disciplines are Biblical Studies, Theological Studies, Bible Study, devotional reading, and Apologetics. Those are all very different disciplines with very different skills and purposes, yet they often get collapsed into a singular approach to Christian living. Before we deal with what happens when we collapse, it may help to define each of the terms.

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Biblical Studies

This is the academic study of scripture as a collection of texts. This discipline uses language, culture, archaeology, the themes of scripture, and other tools to understand the original text. Biblical studies does not deal with the existence of God - in fact, the discipline can be engaged in without any faith and be done well. The academic approach is also typically a textual critical approach that seeks to understand the original meaning of the text in that cultural context. This discipline is not concerned with later interpretations as necessary for its understanding.

Theological Studies

This is a study of God, religious belief, doctrines, history, traditions, and philosophy. Theological studies may use one or more interpretive frameworks such as Lutheranism, Calvinism, Wesleyanism, and others. Theological studies asks questions and tries to understand God and understand how God knows us. Theology may engage biblical studies, but mostly as a way to understand the theological questions and answers people have been engaging throughout history. This discipline is more concerned with explaining who God is rather than whether God exists. Theology will lean more toward belief in God, but can also handle the skeptical probe. Good theological study understands the various approaches to itself and embraces the diversity of theological thought.

Bible Study

This is a practical activity of reading, interpreting, and applying Biblical texts. This may be done in groups or alone. It may be personal, academic, or formal. These studies may focus on a book, chapter, passage, topic, person, or other ideas. It may engage biblical and theological studies, but as information to help interpret and learn. In group settings a teacher may hold knowledge of the other disciplines, but distill those into understandable ideas appropriate to the group.

Devotional Reading

This is an informal approach to personal formation and how the text may shape our lives. Devotional reading is primarily concerned with what this means to me in this moment. Not that to creates novel approaches, but it is unconcerned with the other disciplines in that it typically assumes the existence of God. It is also the most relative of all these approaches because it is intensely personal.

Apologetics

Apologetics deals with reasoned explanations and defenses of religious faith. Christian apologetics, for example, examines questions and objections about Christianity. Questions such as whether belief in God is rational, why suffering exists, or the historical basis for Christian claims. This discipline as it is popularly known today is steeped in modernisms concerns for certitude and reason.

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Who Cares?

What does all of this have to do with anything? For starters, devotional reading and apologetics often get conflated with the others. In addition, contemporary apologetics tends to flatten all of these into propositional statements. Social media influencers are primarily concerned with apologetics and devotional style approaches to scripture. There are those who do good work in biblical studies, theology, and philosophy. But their work is often attacked by apologists and Christians who do not understand the different purposes.

This collapsing into proposition gets conflated with truth. You often see this in students who arrive at a Christian university and encounter theological or biblical studies and have existential crises. These crises are the result of not being prepared for the world or for intense study of their own faith. This is one of the many catalysts for deconstruction - when you suddenly learn that scholars have varying opinions of the factual nature of biblical texts yet still hold the truth of those texts it can be very disorienting. My own example is sitting in an astronomy course at the small, private liberal, arts Christian university I attended and seeing a hand go up as the professor was discussing the speed of light and the age of the universe. “How do you reconcile that thought with Genesis?” The professor said, “This course is concerned with astronomy, to reconcile that with your faith please go visit the Bible Department.” That was kind of a cop out, but a good answer. Different disciplines and a moment to direct someone to engage faith in a deeper way in the proper academic setting.

What Does it Mean?

When I teach or preach in my local church I have engaged with theology (of course as a theologian), biblical studies, my own studies, and knowledge of the local church. I may not mention anything about the scholarly understanding of a text, but that informs how I approach the text. There are hours of study wrapped into forty-five minute lessons but those studies don’t need to bog down the lesson. But I also want to engage the larger ideas such that people are better informed when they do their own reading through study or devotions.

The danger of collapsing these into one is to confuse the purpose and may even cause harm. It is one reason I have been frustrated with my own denominations collapsing of doctrines and culturally defined marks of holiness behavior into equality of doctrinal import. No matter how often we claim to be a people who the same but diverse, it is hard to believe with that flattening. The absurdity is most evident when we consider that the use of Robert’s Rules of Order are equated as essential doctrine on par with the doctrine of Jesus Christ.

As I write this I have friends at Theology Beer Camp organized by Homebrewed Christianity. They approach these disciplines in different ways. They may even disagree with one another and with me, but they all engage in respect and understand the ways that each discipline informs their own beliefs and imagination. I wish the church could be more like the discussions at places like Theology Beer Camp. You don’t need beer (especially if you are Nazarene) but the approach to engagement and learning from one another applies.

A guilty pleasure of mine is watching the Voice auditions from across the world. I especially like the Norway and Australia shows because of the variety of songs and typically great voices. The winner of Australia 2026 is an indigenous rapper who goes by Yung Milla. He auditioned with a rap written by his brother and it was an amazing performance. It was so good, the judges asked his brother to join him and perform it again. Yung Milla and his brother work with youth to help them find hope.

That rap had all the hallmarks of good rap music. Power, lyrics that speak to the community Yung Milla comes from, and commentary on society. As he moved through the competition, Melania C (of the Spice Girls) had him perform Collio, Kendrick Lamar, and others, but for the semi-final she asked Yung Milla to write his own rap using the Men at Work Song Down Under as a base. Risky? Yes, but oh so worth it. Here is that performance.

The choir, the rap, and the performance are amazing. But even more powerfully is the way that Yung Milla takes a familiar song and turns it on its head. He leans into the commentary of the original, but gives it a darker turn “where men plunder” becomes about more than overdevelopment. It becomes a refrain about the oppression and prejudice directed at the indigenous Australians who have the longest continuous culture in the world dating back at least 35,000 years.

“I’m not complaining with the cards I’ve been dealt with, But it’s hard when they looking at my skin thinking I’m trouble.”

It is the cry of strength in the face of prejudice and fear. The strength to recognize how others see, but saying this will not break me. Verse two is extends this and brings powerful language and turns.

Yeah, we come up from the dirt where the pain don’t fade. We all trying to find light in a world so gray. Tell me how do we have hope in a place with no faith? Possibility of death coming to you every day. All the struggle that we had only a few can relate. Being raised up in a home knowing that it ain’t safe. I’m giving everything I got, pouring out my heart on the stage. And they asking where I’m from, all I got to say...

I come from a land down under

“How do we have hope in a place with no faith?” What a cry of lament. But also a cry of resistance to the descent into hopelessness. Yung Milla shouts that he gives his everything on the stage. While he rapped 2Pac in the final, I believe that the semi-final performance won the competition for Yung Milla. His humility and joy at performing and being on a huge stage is an inspiration for hope in a time of hopelessness. It is the hope of a new and better world in which fear and hate are not the primary means of human interaction. Let us learn from Yung Milla.

Here’s the audition video. There was a hook this year in Australia where Tones and I was a secret judge who gave some singers who got no chair turn an opportunity to audition again after coaching which is why you see her briefly.

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I genuinely love the Tom Holland Spiderman movies. I also like the older films, but the Holland arc has been the Spiderman I remember from my childhood. It begins with an awkward teenager finding his way through gaining power. Even the Tony Stark quip to stay a “friendly neighborhood Spiderman” was fun. But the arc of this Peter Parker has some of the deepest looks at what it means to be human when faced with trauma.

The story takes a turn in Spiderman: No Way Home when Peter asks Dr. Strange for a spell to make everyone forget Peter Parker and Spiderman to protect them. Like with all spells involving memory and humanity, it goes awry. Spiderman is suddenly facing villains from other timelines. It is a brilliant story bringing together the three actors who have played Spiderman/Peter Parker in the modern movies.

But more than the story we get the amazing Spidermen working together to prevent the trauma they experienced from harming Holland’s Parker. The other Spidermen killed the villains they faced, but they know all too well the cost of taking a life - even the life of a villain. In a moment when the current Peter has to make a decision, the other Peters surround him and encourage him to see another way. That courage in the face of the easy way heals them all and prevents Peter from causing himself the pain of knowing he has killed intentionally.

Which brings us to Spiderman: Brand New Day. New York is beset by a force Peter cannot see. Someone is able to possess others and carry out crimes working toward a plan. Peter is struggling himself with his powers and his “Spidey senses.” As tends to happen, Peter attempts to control the changing of his power and body. This inadvertently creates a method of controlling others with power. He learns that his foe is Jean Grey, an incredibly powerful mutant with powers of the mind. If you are not familiar, Jean Grey is part of the X-Men and it is awesome as a fan to see the Marvel properties beginning to come together.

Jean is captured by the organization who would use her as a weapon. We learn that they killed her sister. Jean, angry and hurting breaks her containment and threatens to destroy a parge portion of New York. Peter has a decision to make and his decision is one informed by his entire story arc. In fact, Peter is only able to help Jean once he realizes that it is all of who he is that makes him whole. Even the part he is afraid of. The events of No Way Home become a part of who Peter is and his choice is to reach out in compassion to Jean. Peter’s courage, much like the courage of the other Peters is the courage that drives compassion. That compassion saves the city and ultimately Jean Grey.

The one phrase that is famous regardless of the Spiderman medium is “with great power comes great responsibility.” Brand New Day is the epitome of using power responsibly. I can’t help thinking how different the world would be if more human beings followed the adage. What if, when faced with having great power, more people chose to look at that as an opportunity to be responsible, compassionate, or even kind?

In the future, when historians write about the American Evangelical church, I wonder about their assessment. Will it be one of a people who possessed an unbelievable amount of cultural power who chose to wield their power in the oursuit of more power? Will the eulogy for American Evangelicals include the fact that instead of seeing power as something to be laid down, they saw it as something to be seized and it destroyed the very place they claimed to love?

Maybe I am too hopeful, but I think there could still be a change. It will take a large does of humility and the ability to repent of seeking power, but it is possible. We wil also need to see ourselves in the example of Jesus and not our favorite politician.

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Do nothing from selfish ambition or empty conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves.

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Let each of you look not to your own interests but to the interests of others.

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Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, 
who, though he existed in the form of God, 
did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, 
but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, 
assuming human likeness. 
And being found in appearance as a human, 
he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross. 
Therefore God exalted him even more highly 
and gave him the name that is above every other name, 
so that at the name given to Jesus every knee should bend, 
in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 
and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, 
to the glory of God the Father. (Php 2:3-11 NRSVue)

Maybe, just maybe...

There are moments in history that those who live in the after cannot fully understand the shift from the before. I know when I was growing up learning about historical events, we focused on the what and who, but never the then what. Reflecting on the events of September 11, 2001 as one who lived in the before brings this home.

Watching clips and remembrances reminds me of what the world was like before the Twin Towers came down. Before planes hit buildings and we learned that hijackers might turn airplanes into missiles. I grieve that world because I remember it as a time when we felt safe or at least truly free. But the after was a seismic shift in both culture and the American church.

On September 11, 2001 I was with several others from my company at a global trade show in Chicago. We had attended a private party at the House of Blues the night before in which my roommate for the trip was downing two Wild Turkey and 7UPs every time I saw him. I was enjoying the incredible music but thinking I may not get any sleep based upon his being several sheets to the proverbial wind. I was right.

When we awoke on Tuesday morning, I called my wife who told me a small plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. I turned on the TV and my roommate sobered up pretty quickly when we saw the second plane hit live. We went down to breakfast and my boss tried to get us to work and complete a planned visit to investigate a software package. We of course could not stay on task. We decided to check out of the hotel and start home in our 11 passenger rental van. There were ten of us, but then we remembered that three more were flying in that morning. We also wondered if they would be able to make it to Chicago. They did, they later told us they landed and the pilot immediately came on to let everyone know that planes were being grounded nationwide.

The arriving crew was asked to wait at Midway so we could pick them up to head home. One of them however, hopped in a cab to go straight to the trade show that was of course closed. There is always one who doesn’t listen. We eventually got everyone crammed into the van and headed home. We did not have smartphones and cell service was spotty and almost unusable so news was hard to come by. We did get reports throughout the day as we were concerned about our coworkers in New York as well as many of our customers - most of whom were NY based magazine publishers. It was a day that I still remember things vidvidly.

I remember the initial unity in the country, but we could already see cracks. Jerry Fallwell and Pat Robertson blamed the attacks on the sin of the nation and warned that we were only seeing the beginning if we did not repent. Another reason the outrage over comments by Jeremiah Wright from white evangelicals always irritated me. But things were still in that moment between the before and after.

When the after became real for me was November of 2001 when I made my first trip to New York following September 11. My boss had been a few times in the previous months and told me to expect the city to be kinda back to crazy, but still quieter. The plane to Baltimore was almost empty which felt weird. The Amtrak train was almost normal, but not quite the midday passenger count from before. That was all jarring, but then I arrived at Penn Station and made my way up the corridors to the street. The halls were lined with posters of the missing. It was the wallpaper of 2001 and the sorrow of it hit me like a rushing wind. It was a long walk through that grief to the street.

I exited at Seventh Avenue and turned to walk toward 27th street where our office had recently moved from upper Midtown and a move from Cranford, NJ. The emptiness of the downtown skyline was the second nail in the coffin of before. But it was the FDNY fire hall on the block of our office that was the final nail. The gifts, memorials, and flowers made the firehall look like a Rose Parade float. The colors only heightened the grief emanating from the building. I learned from our NY group that two full shifts were lost from that fire hall. Men and women who ran to danger and never came home.

The after become ugly. We are still living with the consequences of the decisions made in the after. The idea that violence can cure violence became our true belief. We blamed innocents for our pain simply because of where they came from or who they worshipped. Security became important enough to give up freedoms as long as we weren’t the explicit target of the ones securing the homeland. We did not heed the warnings that we could easily slip into prejudice and hatred.

I believe that the reasons white evangelicals so easily set aside their values concerns in 2016 has to do with a dream of returning to the before. But that isn’t happening. The hatred sown in the early after is exploding in the now. I fear the seeds we sowed are bearing the fruit of fear and hatred now. It is the evidence of trauma of a shifted world. I pray we can allow ourselves to be healed, but we seem all too ready to plunge headfirst into the result of fear rather than love.

I don’t have any good answers. But when I see my Haitian brothers and sisters stripped of protections and returned to a violent and chaotic country I grieve. When I hear fellow Christians spew hatred toward Islam, Judaism, and any religion other than ours I grieve. When fellow pastors tell me we can’t love “those” people I grieve. When ignorance and fear masquerade as intelligent discernment I grieve.

I continued to travel to New York City until 2006 when I left that company. I absolutely love NYC and miss it. I never visited what was then still Ground Zero. It first felt like gawking although our CEO had visited and shared with me the prayers he gave there. As things began to change at the site, I just could not bring myself to go there. But I miss the anchor that the towers felt like in the before. I really do hope we can redeem the after into beauty.

Jazz music is not a music of precision in the traditional sense of precision. There are moments when a precise note may be called for, but jazz is an art that is always reaching and exploring the edges. It is an art in which the individuals play in relation to the music, one another, and the core anchor of the style. Jazz requires trust and a willingness to follow the notes where they may lead. Even you play a wrong note, your fellow musicians find a way to incorporate it and make the note “right.”

I hear echoes of jazz when I read Tolkien’s Silmarillion and the chapter “Music of the Ainur”. This is Tolkien’s creation story of the world of Middle Earth. It is creation in which music is the medium for creating. When Melkor introduces his own music in dissonance, Iluvatar incorporates that dissonance and reshapes the whole for the good. Much like a jazz combo brings the dissonant note into the piece and makes it “right,” Iluvatar takes what Melkor means for his purposes and turns it into beauty as Iluvatar desires.

Like jazz, I truly believe that much of what Tolkien is telling us in his work is relational. Not a scholarly take, but a take born in love and reverence for the material. I just can’t help seeing the multiple layers of relationship within the stories of Middle Earth. Relationship with the earth, relationship of races, and relationships of friends. Even the relationship between good and evil. Many of the stories tell of how characters are made better through those relationships.

Doing theology in public works best when it is done relationally and with a method like jazz. Probing at the edges and seeking the wonder present in an idea or a discovery. Doing theology this way takes trust, a centering, and often courage. It is not a precise undertaking even when we sometimes need to use precise language. Theology is done in faithfulness, not precision. Scripture shows us an often wild and surprising Spirit of God. When we try to fit theology into precise parameters, we end up leaving it bruised and bloody.

My friend Tim puts it this way:

The kind of work theology does is big enough to pluck up a nation, to reduce it to rubble, and to plant something new. Theology cannot be beholden to preconceptions, no matter how comforting or natural those preconceptions may be to us. If it fits nicely into a given category, it is probably not theology. Theology is social, but it is not social talk. Theology is scientific, but it is not science talk. Theology is political, but it is not political talk. Theology is God-talk. Because it is God-talk, it will not and cannot be beholden to anything less than God. So, the theologian speaks with words that are gifted by God. Of course, this only happens long after the theologian comes to terms with being known by God. (Gaines)

Of course, when we do theology we are usually centered in a tradition like Wesleyan-Holiness, Anabaptist, Orthodox, Roman Catholic, etc. But within that centering, we have a lot of movement to the edges. Dan Boone uses the tetherball to explain this movement. Always anchored, but able to move in multiple planes and directions. Contrast this idea with guardrails as an example. Guardrails keep you in the lines whereas centering keeps you grounded.

Many theologians practice this style of doing theology. You may encounter them telling stories, working out a concept, or simply thinking out how to exist in a world that seems so upside down at times. But you will also see them wrestling with sacred text, doctrines, people, and God. As Tim says, “[a]n invitation to walk the theological life will also be an invitation to wrestle with life’s largest questions, with social and cultural issues, and most of all with the holy God who meets us in the wrestling.”

And much like jazz, doing theology in this style takes trust and relationship. Trust that we are wrestling with God in honesty and vulnerability; trust that we are authentically working to understand God and our world. The sad part is that just as some do not “get” jazz music, some do not get doing theology as wrestlers, prodders, and explorers. No, these neither trust nor are willing to work in relational trust.

I have seen many theologians who dare to work out theology in public get attacked. Some are my friends. The funny thing is that even when those friends and I disagree, we stay friends. Because we trust in relationship. We know that even in disagreement, we trust that we are each working out how to know God.

Mistrust is the currency of those who do not trust. They will sow mistrust and accusation outside of any relational trust. It appears as a cowardly and proud stance rather than one of humble seeking. Often the people wanting to lay down guardrails and expel have their own metaphorical planks in their eyes.

To be explicit, when theologian Craig Keen was recently accused by fellow clergy of teaching against doctrine, his accusers had not had any interactions with him. Trust me, he will dialogue with you if you disagree and he will explain things when you do not understand. Any mistrust the accusers attempted to sow appears to have had the opposite effect. Maybe even a “Streisand Effect” because now more people are aware of the work of a retired professor of religion who shares his thoughts on the internet.

You might find it ironic, but two of the five churches represented by the accusers have statements on the doctrine of scripture on public websites which are contrary to that of the Church of the Nazarene. Fundamentalists typically do not care that they break with doctrines because they are arrogant enough to believe that their contrary take is just fine because it matches their view of God. It’s like they read or hear the parable of the wheat and the weeds and think it’s a good idea to disobey Jesus and try to rip the weeds out even though they may destroy the wheat.

Be a wrestling jazz musician rather than a referee. Trust the Spirit to draw others to that beauty. Or decide to be a referee policing boundaries and miss those beautiful stories.

GAINES, TIMOTHY. WALKING THE THEOLOGICAL LIFE Discovering Method for Theology in the Lives of Biblical Characters. INTERVARSITY PRESS, 2024.

Steve is a country boy from the American South whose winding road led through Trevecca, a PhD at the University of Glasgow, a career in medical communications, a charity with his wife Tasha, and finally a call to ministry in Scotland. In this episode he shares how he and Tasha took on the Camino Primitivo, the original and hardest route from Oviedo to Santiago, through a 95-degree heat wave, mountain climbs, and an eighteen-pound pack.

But the Camino was never really about the finish line. Steve talks about carrying a homemade journal full of prayer requests from their church and literally bearing other people’s burdens mile after mile, leaving them on rocks at shrines along the way. He reflects on meeting fellow pilgrims and the strange trust that builds with strangers, the locals who welcomed two tired pilgrims into a Wednesday evening service they stumbled into by accident, and the realization that the moments along the journey mattered far more than the arrival in Santiago.

He brings it all home with a simple pilgrim lesson for those of us who can’t walk 200 miles: simplify your day to just getting from here to here, carry as little as possible, leave behind what you don’t need, and don’t rush past the moments that actually mean the most. It’s a conversation about bodies, burdens, and what it means to actually walk with God rather than just talk about it.

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Hypocrisy is rampant within the church. It has always been an issue in spiritual realms. Jesus aimed condemnation at only a few types of people and among those are hypocrites. When I think of the loud-mouthed virtue signalling Christians who pontificate on and on about this or that societal ill, I invariably see what appears to be a large plank protruding from their eye. The other group Jesus condemned were religious leaders who heaped extra requirements upon the ability to know and follow God. The Venn diagram for these two groups is most likely just a single circle.

The longer I exist within holiness circles, the more I believe Mildred Bangs Wynkoop was being too soft when she talked about credibility gaps. She should probably have just gone with rank hypocrisy. Alas, many would not have listened to her. The world is much less subtle than it was when A Theology of Love came out. But the hypocrisy and credibility gaps have lingered and widened. So many stand in absolute certainty that their particular thoughts on a doctrine or theology are the only possible thoughts such that they are willing to eradicate differences of opinion.

It must be exhausting being the holiness police. Being the only ones who care so much about holiness that they must wage war against fellow clergy. The great irony is how many of the names you typically see attached to loud shouting, puritanical pontificating, or accusations against fellow clergy invariably have public statements that disagree with the very doctrines they claim to be concerned about. They’ll say they care about your soul all the while sticking a knife in your back.

Whether it is a vindictive charge without any merit whatsoever that gets dropped suddenly over a year into the process or overly restrictive readings of doctrines, there seems to be a mismatch in concern over sin. You see, amongst all the pearl clutching and gnashing of teeth in concern, there is a large gap in the application of concern.

What do I mean? Well, we claim to be a people who desire that all find freedom from sin. We believe in that so strongly that we will run roughshod over people to tell them about their sin. We will beat them over their heads about sin. Sorry, that’s wrong. We will hit people over the head with the sins of those outside, not the sins of the inside group. Only the scapegoat sins matter, not the ones we see in those who agree with us.

Religious bigotry? That’s fine as long as it is aimed at “those people.” Exclusionary nationalism? Perfect for those who look and think like me. Railing against those who work for a more just and equitable society? That is Gospel, because equity is “woke.” Opposing women’s ordination or teaching patriarchy as Christianity? That’s fine because “feminism is liberal.” If we had an ounce of consistency, the preceding would lead to discipline, but more often than not, it brings on accolades.(1)

If you feel comfortable signing on to accusations against a fellow member of clergy you have never met or even had a conversation with, be my guest. But when you do that while teaching against our doctrine of scripture, ordination, baptism, or other doctrines, do you feel even an ounce of irony? I asked a friend who had his credentials taken away in my denomination about someone who really seemed to dislike him. He said he had never interacted with that person other than seeing the name on a letter against him. Think about that for a moment.

In the past few years, there has been irony upon irony in the pursuit of a certain kind of purity of thought. Irony is one thing, but absurdity entered the room when one member of clergy faced charges for a typical exegesis of Matthew 18 in which he pointed out that the passage was not Jesus weaponizing discipline, but a picture of reconciling relationship. The gist of that essay was that accountability is a relational idea in which those who disagree are seeking discernment together with an eye always pointing to reconciliation. Let that sink in. (The discipline of clergy section of the Nazarene Manual says the same thing about reconciliation for contextual irony.)

As for being concerned about souls? We’re free with truth about certain sins, but our silence in the face of misogyny, protection of abusers, syncretic nationalism, and syncretic partisanship exposes hypocrisy. Of course, if we are being honest, we are all hypocrites at times. It is part of existing in a complex world. But we also need to recognize that hypocrisy is real and repent.

I keep dreaming of what change holiness folk could bring about if we worried more about proclaiming a transformative relationship with God rather than endless culture wars. If we simply lived out the ideals within our covenants and doctrines, I wonder how much good would enter the world. Might it look a lot like “thy Kingdom come?”

The truth is that I deeply love the Church and the promises present within a community that is seeking to bring flourishing to a world of darkness. It is just so frustrating when Christians keep throwing wet blankets upon the lights shining into that darkness out of fear, lack of control, or just raw hatred.

My friend Aaron Simmons published a revised essay on the liberal arts recently in which he stated that “[e]xistence is an affective baptism and sometimes the water gets up our nose.” I love that sentence for so many reasons. But I also believe we can use that about holiness. Holiness is an affective baptism and sometimes the water gets up our nose. And that’s a good thing because it reminds us of the power of holiness to act in the world. We keep treating holiness as some kind of pure thinking rather than relational action in creation. No wonder people don’t “get” holiness.

I pray we remember where holiness comes from before it is too late and the hypocrisy epidemic becomes a pandemic.

(1) See the Manual: 2023 Church of the Nazarene (2)

Philosophy in the Wild

A Defense of Liberal Arts Education

Quick disclaimer: Today’s post is a much revised version of a talk I first gave all the way back in 2013. I mention that for two reasons. First, I know that nobody is still listening to Macklemore and so don’t judge me. Second, I actually thought that I had turned this talk into a previous post, but despite searching all my previous material, it doesn’t…

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2 months ago · 8 likes · 3 comments · J. Aaron Simmons

What does it look like to live a qualitative life on a normal Tuesday?
How the Tower of Babel speaks to our obsession with growth and technology. Why caring for creation is a holiness and sanctification issue, and how salvation is better understood as the healing of all things rather than a ticket out of here.

I was once asked what I do when I don’t feel like writing. If you subscribe, you have experienced that answer. I don’t write. No one depends upon the words I write, I don’t make any money writing, and I choose to write. So, if I don’t feel like writing, I don’t write. But I wonder if we applied that thinking to broader life what it might look like.

There are things we just can’t say no to. Feeding those who depend upon us, medical visit, jobs, and taking care of ourselves. But, what if we could choose moments when we just say no to all the things in the moment. This is the mythical life balance discussion, but it is also about living. In a world in which we are inundated with information, entertainment, and shouting; silence and boredom are counter cultural. Actually, silence is revolutionary.

The revolution may not be televised and that could be the best thing about it. I am not advocating being quiet in the face of injustice, but rather being silent in the endless outrage cycle of fear being thrown at us. The silence my allow us to hear the quiet voices crying out rather than the loud bullies. Transformational quiet can be had if we refuse to participate in the constant fear about people who look different, worship differently, speak differently, live differently. Turn off the bullies and do not allow them to control how you see the world.

We are too often led around by the tyranny of the ignorant. Sure, they sound smart and may even reinforce our prejudices, but they are spouting foolish ignorance. Try to turn that off, your own health may improve. One simple way to achieve peace - shut down the bullies. Those of us who are Christian should be the last to share the voices of bullies. We should instead be telling stories of beauty. Stories that invite others into our story and paint beautiful pictures.

There are real things to be angry about in our world. But, if you are constantly outraged by some joker with a microphone spreading lies, then silence may be the best antidote.

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We talk about the rescue mission model: where it came from (including Jerry McCauley, who started the first one), what went wrong, and what is worth recovering. Kevin is honest about harmful practices - the transactional way basic needs get tied to conversion - but he refuses to stop at critique. The book is full of stories of churches actually getting it right: a few San Diego churches whose storage program helped more than 100 people secure housing, a mission in Oklahoma City that went from worst example to best, churches opening parking lots to people living in their cars, and organizations centering people with lived experience in leadership.

We also get into the harder questions: how to respond to NIMBY opposition, what is happening with criminalization and Housing First policy, and why Kevin ends the book by calling us to turn “I” into “we.”

If you have ever felt overwhelmed by the size of the problem and wondered what your church could actually do, this conversation is for you. Kevin’s answer is not a bigger program. It is finding one other person who wants to do something, and going from there.

In my last essay I discussed the ways in which the American church has hurt its witness with Gen-Z specifically (see below for that link). I wanted to think about this in more detail and I kept thinking about the scene in Lord of the Rungs where Gandalf has gone to Saruman to discuss how they can work to destroy the One Ring. Gandalf realizes to his horror that Saruman has already been corrupted by Sauron through a desire for power. Saruman mocks the brown wizard Ratagast then attempts to pull Gandalf in to his own surrender to evil.

‘“And listen, Gandalf, my old friend and helper!” he said, coming near and speaking now in a softer voice. “I said we, for we it may be, if you will join with me. A new Power is rising. Against it the old allies and policies will not avail us at all. There is no hope left in Elves or dying Númenor. This then is one choice before you, before us. We may join with that Power. It would be wise, Gandalf. There is hope that way. Its victory is at hand; and there will be rich reward for those that aided it. As the Power grows, its proved friends will also grow; and the Wise, such as you and I, may with patience come at last to direct its courses, to control it. We can bide our time, we can keep our thoughts in our hearts, deploring maybe evils done by the way, but approving the high and ultimate purpose: Knowledge, Rule, Order; all the things that we have so far striven in vain to accomplish, hindered rather than helped by our weak or idle friends. There need not be, there would not be, any real change in our designs, only in our means.” (LOTR 518-519)

Saruman believes that he can control the power and twist it back upon Sauron. Of course Galdalf recognizes the futility of attempting to use the power of the One Ring against its creator, but the lust for power has corrupted and twisted Saruman. Gandalf sees the lust within Saruman’s eyes that could not be contained and realizes that Saruman is lost.

‘He came and laid his long hand on my arm. “And why not, Gandalf?” he whispered. “Why not? The Ruling Ring? If we could command that, then the Power would pass to us. That is in truth why I brought you here. For I have many eyes in my service, and I believe that you know where this precious thing now lies. Is it not so? Or why do the Nine ask for the Shire, and what is your business there?” As he said this a lust which he could not conceal shone suddenly in his eyes. (519)

Gandalf becomes trapped upon the top of Orthanc, the tower of Isengard because he refuses to give in to the same lust for power that has consumed Saruman. Gandalf is willing to be outside the story rather than join Saruman’s descent. That does not mean that Gandalf gives up, but that he is willing to be on the sideline for a while to resist the evil that Saruman has embraced. Gandalf knows that Saruman is naive at best to think that the Power he seeks will come to him rather than destroy him.

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Hopefully you see the parallel here. Portions of the American church, including within the Church of the Nazarene (COTN) have been seduced by the possibility of wielding cultural or political power. As I consider why so many can ignore the very real evil present in partisanship and in policies that harm, I believe that there is a misguided belief that embracing the imagined power in choosing a partisan “side” will allow that power to be turned upon the world to reshape it.

But we are New Creation people. We would much better look to the example of Gandalf and be willing to reject cultural and political power rather than give in to them. Our witness would be stronger and we could speak prophetically into a world suffering from Old Creation. Could we make the kenotic move of giving up the lure of power in order that we can be the place those who are rejected by power can come and be transformed?

Of course in the Lord of the Rings, Gandalf is eventually given the mantle and power that Saruman held before his descent. But Gandalf wields that power in pursuit of justice. He does not hold it like a treasure, but pours himself into the fight for Middle Earth. Saruman is eventually defeated by his own hubris and ignorance of nature when the Ents go to war against Isengard and Hobbits lay siege as well. Saruman was so consumed by the pursuit of Power that he misses the threat of trees and Share folk. His disdain for others is his defeat. Ultimately, he dies at the hand of one he twisted. Saruman dies in obscurity in the Shire h saw no value in.

I end with a simple question. Are we Gandalf or are we Saruman?

Church of the Nazarene Clergy this series has a Lifelong Learning Code: 919014

An interesting study has emerged from the Wheaton College Billy Graham Center Research Institute. This study is the result of a survey conducted in 2024 of Gen-Z participants. These are young people born between 1997 and 2012. The study data shows results that had anecdotal assumptions from many clergy and those who look at religious trends. The results are not surprising to me or to many clergy. Evangelicals alliance with President Trump and the Republican party has an affect on how Gen-Z views church attendance. I will link the source article below that Ryan Burge participated in for more context. But here is the quote that should wake us up.

But has the strong alliance between Christians and Donald Trump actually pushed some people out of church?

We now have data to answer this question with a great deal of specificity among those who would be the future of the church: Generation Z. The Wheaton College Billy Graham Center Research Institute fielded a survey of 2,365 Gen Z adults (ages 18-28) through NORC’s AmeriSpeak panel between Aug. 9 and Sept. 26, 2024. This effort was supported by the Lilly Endowment, and the lead investigator for this project was Rick Richardson at Wheaton College. Buried in a battery about political de-motivators for church involvement was this statement: “Christians’ support of Trump has made me less likely to go to church.”

I shared the article in a group of Nazarene and holiness clergy for discussion. The majority took this as an opportunity to reflect and comment on how we might do things differently, what kind of language we may use, and how cheerleading for partisan politics harms the witness of the church. But then we have those who took another path. Here are some quotes.

It’s no surprise. Gen Z has grown up in an environment where education, the culture, even much of the church, is stridently opposed to the teachings of the Scriptures. We have a lot of work to do.

The assumption in this comment is twofold. One, Gen-Z avoids church because of opposition to scripture. Two, the Republican party is aligned with scripture. My response read in part:

Gen-Z is staying away from church in spite of being open to spiritual ideas. The reason given is insistence upon support of a partisan political framework.

Gen-Z rightfully sees that the policies and actions of Donald Trump do not necessarily line up with Christianity. They are not mentioning doctrinal issues, but partisan issues. Your statement assumes they have doctrinal issues, but that is not supported by the data.

The truth is that political parties and governments are often at odds with Christian ethics and morals. No party has a monopoly on Godly thought. This was once widely accepted in American Christianity (including evangelicalism). But we lost our way and assumed that political partisan power would give us cultural power. On that note, here is another comment:

I read the article. “In some part” is too generic to mean anything at all. Everything people do is, “in some part,” due to some things. This is just convenient ammunition for those who want to blame evil conservatives for ________________.

The obvious misunderstanding of how statistics work aside, do you see an obvious problem? This is assumed to be an attack to make political conservatives look evil. Sure, if you assume Wheaton University and the Billy Graham Center Research Institute are likely to attack conservatives those being bastions of liberal thinking and all. (that last is sarcasm by the way) The conversation continued:

I’m not going to waste the time to prove it, but for every “48% say they won’t go to church because of Trump” there’s 52% who will. Statistics say what we want them to say.

Once again, not how statistics work nor is this accurate per the data. In the data, less than a quarter said support had no impact. While we can suppose that of that number, some go specifically because of support, but way less than 52%. But I have a bigger issue with this line of thinking. I also believe that it exposes an idolatrous relationship with political partisan politics and a disregard for those outside the church - the “lost” if you will. One of the hallmarks of the call for clergy in the Church of the Nazarene (COTN) is a concern for all the lost. Notice we don’t say only those who support x political party.

Here is my response to the comment:

But beyond that, are you willing to leave a large group of people out of the opportunity to hear about holiness? I want to reach as many people as possible for the Gospel and our holiness message. That means as many as possible.

Those who love Donald Trump and those who reject Donald Trump should both find respite from the world’s demand for political allegiance in our holiness churches. I know our church has people from across the spectrum politically. We don’t alter a thing about holiness and we probably make it uncomfortable for different people at different times. But that’s the power of the Gospel. It calls us to be different, not to be the world.

It is sad that you appear to be willing to write off people who need to hear the Gospel because you insist upon embracing a worldly ideology rather than imagine the kingdom as wholly other.

Another clergy friend mentioned that she has sat in countless seminars and conferences where the question of what, why, etc. about younger generations comes us. Here we have an answer about one stumbling block that should be easy to remove. But we want to argue why we don’t have to give up our partisan cheerleading. It is unbelievable to me that we would be willing to block people from coming into our churches over politics. That is evidence enough to diagnose apathy toward human beings at best and idolatry at worst.

When did political comfort come before holiness? You want to know why the church is not experiencing revival? Because we put roadblocks up to the very people needing revival. We may get some cheers for using outrage against the other political party, but at what cost? Are we so entrapped by partisanship that we cannot fathom being in communion with people who vote differently? The COTN claims to be a missional people. Missional people are willing to be willing cultures that are foreign and different. But we can’t get along with people who are almost exactly like us but voted differently. God forgive our hard hearts.

Not surprisingly one of the commenters above was part of a discussion leading up to the 2016 and 2020 elections on how to strip COTN clergy of credentials if they either voted for Democrats or, for some refused to vote for Donald Trump. Their reasoning centered on abortion. Well, concern for the lost is also important and in the Nazarene Manual so...

Holiness is hard, but not because it places undue burdens. Holiness is hard because it demands that we see fellow human beings as God does, that we reject the ways of the world (including political power), and that we lead with love. Transformation is possible, but we need to get out of the way of the Spirit. Prevenient grace tells us that God is working in ALL places. Are we willing to be more exclusive than God just to make ourselves feel good about politics?

There are real world consequences to the attitude shown toward those who see partisan support as a deterrent to going to a church. That attitude is infectious and can seep into every level of a denomination out of fear. The fear of upsetting “the base” can lead to silence and inaction. You cannot multiply by zero, so maybe we need to be more humble and repentant. For a good example of this, the Maryland Diocese of the Roman Catholic Church is lobbying for Haitian immigrants currently facing a sudden revocation of temporary protected status. A status given to refugees who follow the rules and “do things the right way.” Meanwhile, save for a few voices, the thousands of Haitian members of the COTN are not being advocated for publicly. We should feel the shame of that in light of the Gospel.

The solution here is simple. Repent of partisanship and preach Christ and holiness. Yes, we will preach on politics, but a politics shaped by the Kindom of God rather than human greed or desire. Doing this may upset everyone at some point, but the Gospel can be offensive. We often speak as if it is offensive to the world, but it is most offensive to the religious ones who demand God be in their image.

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In this wide-ranging discussion, they open up about:

- What surprises people most about a pastor’s week

- The one thing they’re praying when they look out at the congregation on Sunday

- How they’ve evolved in their thinking about ministry, structure, and sanctification

- What’s been harder than expected (relational ministry in a busy, screen-saturated culture)

- What’s been better than expected (younger generations stepping up to serve)

- The honest advice they’d give someone who feels spiritually stuck

- The biggest misconception about how pastors actually relate to each other (hint: they don’t all think alike)

- How they keep the energy fresh after decades of preaching the same texts

Church of the Nazarene Clergy this series has a Lifelong Learning Code: 919014

In an online forum recently, I saw a question asking for feedback on an article (link below). The article is part of a series in which several writers associated with the Global Methodist Church (GMC) are opining on their thoughts of what the future of the Church catholic may look like. I commend anyone looking to the future and trying to determine what the Church may look like, but what I noticed in the article is the idea of re-formation as in reforming (physically and theologically) what the Church looks like. Sadly, I see both a lack of imagination and a vision of a church as institution with rapidly narrowing guardrails.

Your vision of church may be of guardrails, but to project that onto the entirety of the Christian experience is a category error at best. I also believe that trying to fit institution into an organism leads to where we are today in the wider Church. Here are my unvarnished comments on the article.

The Church needs new birth. not revival, re-formation, or any institutional idea. This article and the series have a good premise, but I believe they lack the imagination that ignited the early church. Here is why I think that.

The thinking and questions are assuming institution rather than organism. The mention that God is doing something new does not track with the institutional nudges.

I believe this is a vision the authors have for the Global Methodist Church (GMC) and that is fine, but to project it upon the Church catholic is a category error. The GMC is definitely working toward a re-formation, but it appears to be a re-formation of modernism within an institutional church. The move toward inerrancy is just one example of this move toward modernism as the framework.

I can’t help shaking the feeling that the GMC is going down a similar road to the ANCA. Guardrails constantly narrow as you attempt to form an institution. Much better to have a centering that creates a source upon which we move out only so far as our center holds. That center is Jesus, not our institutions.

Why my rather cynical assessment? Because the GMC is already moving toward institutional rules making as a function of the Church. If you have played Table Top Role-Playing Games like Dungeons and Dragons you will be familiar with the concept of rules heavy and rules light games. The most popular game system is Dungeons and Dragons which is a rules heavy game. It has very dense and sometimes over complex rules which can constrict gameplay and the fun. A rules light game in contrast allows for more fluid storytelling and a faster pace. For a new player, rules light is much easier to understand and a much more inviting invitation into the hobby.

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The GMC is institutionalizing an idea which helps to form institutional control over the hermeneutical (interpretative framework) of scripture. A solid hermeneutic is a good thing, but a rules light hermeneutic is more open to the Holy Spirit and the moves of God in the world than a rules heavy approach. What is my evidence of the GMC leaning toward a rules heavy approach? The fact that they are proposing changing their Methodist doctrine of scripture into a fundamentalist vision of an inerrant text. As a member of clergy in the Church of the Nazarene (COTN), I am watching this closely because we have clergy who not only desire for our doctrine of scripture to change to this same idea, but also teach inerrancy as doctrine.

What’s wrong with inerrancy? Good question, but also a question born in modernism’s insistence upon certitude and proof. Inerrancy is a recent idea within Christianity. In fact, it is a true child of twentieth century modernism. Ironically, the fundamentalists became modernists by fighting historic liberal theology with its own ideas. But back to inerrancy itself. The allure of inerrancy is that it places a burden upon scripture to be perfect in content rather than in purpose.

There is a very large gulf between content and purpose and we do well to remember that. The purpose of scripture is to reveal God, and for Christians, the perfect revelation of God is found in Jesus. These are the claims of the Gospels and other scripture. The Gospel of John and the book of Hebrews address this directly. The clarity of purpose being more important than content is shown very clearly in Hebrews chapter one.

Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds. He is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word. (Heb 1:1-3 NRSVue)

The writer of Hebrews is explicitly rejecting the idea that the scriptures they know are flawed in that they are not the perfect reflection of God’s character. Inerrancy is a poor understanding of scripture and the inspiration of scripture. Many Christian traditions have never held to any form of textual inerrancy. There are those, like the COTN, who teach the idea of soteriological inerrancy. This is simply that scripture is able to inerrantly reveal how we can have relationship with God. In other words, this is an inerrant purpose. You will find this claim throughout my writing.

But what I have come to believe recently is that textual inerrancy is not only a poor understanding of the purpose of scripture, but that it may be like heresy. It is definitely idolatry. Sure, those who believe in inerrancy will say “we don’t worship the bible.” But that’s not the fullness of idolatry. To define idolatry is the placement of authority within the object or thing itself instead of solely in the source of inspiration. In other words we shift from a God-breathed text, to a text that derives authority from itself.

That’s the ultimate problem with inerrancy, it constrains the text to the point of strangling its life. The text is nothing without the breath of God. For Wesleyans, this God-breathed nature extends to human beings, and to the Holy Spirit revealing the truth within the text which points to God. The authority of scripture exists within the invitation to engage with the living God, not the words on a page.

Textual inerrancy is an unnecessary and empty view of scripture. There is no claim to inerrancy within scripture. Many try to show inerrancy within scripture, but those are typically proof texts that ignore the context and even the very words. I imagine that in the new birth the Church is groaning toward, inerrancy will be a quaint artifact of modernism that gets shed in repentance of the idolatry that it is. At least that’s my prayer.

https://firebrandmag.com/articles/the-new-normal

In this episode of the Parson Brown Podcast, Brandon welcomes back fan-favorite guest Nick Polk for the summer series to explore one of J.R.R. Tolkien’s most brilliant and hope-filled ideas: eucatastrophe. Coined by Tolkien from the Greek “eu” (good) and “catastrophe,” the term describes that sudden, unexpected joyful turn when all seems lost - the happy ending that emerges organically from the story itself, not dropped in from outside.

Nick and Brandon unpack the difference between a true eucatastrophe and a cheap deus ex machina, tracing examples through Tolkien’s legendarium (the creation story of the Ainulindale, the romance of Beren and Luthien, the reshaping of the world from flat to round) and into pop culture touchstones like Star Wars, Independence Day, and Toy Story 3. They wrestle with Tolkien’s claim that he didn’t invent eucatastrophe but discovered it - and how the ultimate eucatastrophe, for Tolkien, was the death and resurrection of Christ.

Along the way they tackle perennial fan questions - why couldn’t the eagles just take the Ring to Mordor? - and explore how the shape of story echoes the shape of the gospel. Whether you’re a Tolkien nerd, a theology nerd, or just someone who loves a good happy ending, this conversation will leave you seeing stories -- and your own story - in a new light.

Church of the Nazarene Clergy this series has a Lifelong Learning Code: 919014

In my last essay, I engaged with the idea of an embodied theology. We looked at how bodies relate to ministry, the church, and doctrinal decisions. The practical theology of embodiment is perfect for an ecclesiology of embodied action. In other words, the Church is a body! The Apostle Paul is concerned with the embodiment of the Church as the incarnation of Christ in the present; what if we turned to look at the Church like Paul? Paul talks a lot about bodies and his clearest metaphor for the Church is as the body of Christ. This is deep theological understanding about who the church is to be.

The Body is Laboring

In her book, The Pastor as Midwife Rev. Dr. Shawna Gaines writes about the current state of the Church.

In this moment, the church is in great pain: Congregations are dwindling, denominations are fracturing, church scandals have become a genre, church leaders are at a loss to navigate rapid change, Christians are co-opted by tactics of the empires of this world, and survival is threatened. (Gaines)

Despite attempts to shoehorn bad data into celebrations, the church in the U.S. is facing decline. Or decline in the traditional Western understanding of successful churches. It is true that institutional metrics are largely discouraging. Spend some time on Ryan Burge’s excellent Substack and you can see the trends. Church attendance and membership is down across the board. Some denominations are shedding huge numbers, including the largest Protestant group in the U.S. - The Southern Baptist Church.

But, what if we are experiencing productive pain in the labor of new birth? I don’t mean the next cool idea or system, but actual new birth. What if visionaries like Phylis Tickle and others are right and we are currently in the transition between the Church as it has been and the Church as it will be? Phylis Tickle was an Episcopal layperson who had great insight into the Church catholic and the changes she foresaw. We really miss her voice in these days of labor moving toward birth. There is a pattern as Tickle pointed out through the words of a priest.

The Right Reverend Mark Dyer, an Anglican bishop known for his wit as well as his wisdom, famously observes from time to time that the only way to understand what is currently happening to us as twenty-first-century Christians in North America is first to understand that about every five hundred years the Church feels compelled to hold a giant rummage sale. (Tickle)

Or as Shawna Gaines mentions, “We need change that is less like a website facelift and more like a new birth...”

If the church were pregnant, we would be pushing toward the moment when a doctor would say it is time to induce. The pain we are currently experiencing as a people is not a pain inflicted by God, but it may just be that which shows us the path back to God. Our pains are labor pains moving us toward the next birth of the Church as the embodiment of the Christ, but what is the Church giving birth to?

The Strongman in Shepherd’s Clothing

In The Pastor as Midwife Shawna Gaines interrogates the typical metaphor of pastor as shepherd. She does not reject the metaphor of shepherd overall, but takes issue with the way we typically talk about pastor/shepherd as a visionary leader and protector. Gaines comments upon the way many pastor have been taught what success is. “The big church conferences told me that a pastor was a visionary leader, like Moses the shepherd, who had been to the mountaintop and would fearlessly lead the flock onward.”

Or even worse visions of shepherd are those of men like Mark Driscoll who imagines pastor as strongman directing the flock and protecting the flock from the world. The idea is that the only responsibility of the sheep is to survive. The irony is that even egalitarian churches see pastors in light of a patriarchal lens. The strong CEO leading the church into prosperity is a patriarchal, capitalist vision. It is not the picture of a shepherd in scripture.

We do need new metaphors for pastor that meet the Church being born anew. While not throwing out the metaphor of shepherd, we can see shepherds through the lens of midwife. After all, shepherds often serve as midwife to their sheep. Shepherds are present at new birth. The shepherd of first century Palestine was not a visionary leader, but a loving guide to sheep. Yes, shepherds protected, but only in the sense that wild animals were a threat. The sheep did not need to constantly cower because the shepherd was in their midst. Not controlling, but guiding and caring.

Shifting the metaphor to midwife allows the church to reject the strongman and see the world through eyes that are part of the risen savior. These eyes see the world differently than eyes focused upon the strongman. We can also shift from the end result of pastor as CEO and release that to welcome the pastor as a shepherd who midwifes.

Organization Without Institutionalization

What does it mean for the Church if we shift from the strongman to a midwifing shepherd? It shifts us to a very Pauline metaphor of the Church as the body of Christ - an embodied church. The language changes from institution to organism. From standard operating procedures to living and breathing organic structure. There is a marked difference between the idea of institutionalization which serves the institutional structure versus the organic and healthy structure that serves life and living.

Pastor Shawna explains this within the work of midwives.

“I’ve witnessed pastors and midwives working in the wisdom of the birthing community bring order and peace to a process that can be filled with fear and anxiety. Their work as professionals is orderly and organized, but it is not institutionalized.”

Midwives bring order within chaos, but they do not control the birth. They are there along side and with the mothers and others involved in the birth. They invite form rather than chaos or control. I cannot help but see echoes of Genesis within this idea. God births creation from chaos in the opening of Genesis. Midwives bring order to chaos in new births as an ongoing reflection of God’s work in the world.

Gaines tells us that institutionalization leads us to create things designed to outlive us. This transforms the Church into an institution that serves itself rather than the mission of God. Much like modern birth within a hospital has institutionalized into postures, placement of bodies, and setups that are convenient for the doctor, but often highly inconvenient for the mother giving birth; institutions form themselves around ways to serve the needs of the institution. The mother ends up on a table and on her back allowing the doctor to sit in comfort and command the situation. This leaves little room for the mother to adjust to what her body is saying. The structure is geared toward doctor rather than mother. This is what we have done with the church.

We have placed the institutional concerns onto the doctor’s stool. We have placed the Church on her back and made it hard for her to see the paths God is leading toward. The new birth seems to be ancillary to the whole production. This informs the statistics we gather, the ways we structure hierarchies, and even how doctrines are enforced or not enforced. The importance becomes centered on the survival and ease of the institution - often at the expense of the human beings within the structure. What would a church that saw itself as an organism do differently. What would polity, roles, accountability look like within such an imagination? It would definitely not be one in which polity, roles, accountability, structure, organization, and doctrine become flattened into a single essential doctrine. Instead it would be one in which those things other than essential doctrines were subject to the move of God rather than institutional survival. There would be a cooperative and humble listening and seeing what God is doing, even if it is detrimental to the institution.

It would look much more like the description by a doula in Gaines’ book of birth as a dance. “There is rhythm and swaying, and the rhythm increases and speeds up, bodies move and sway. But the mother is the one who sets the rhythm, even if she doesn’t know it.” I imagine the rhythm, cooperation, and move of the church being in sync with God. More accomplished in sync choreography versus Elaine Benes.* A beautiful swaying in response to the song of the Spirit becomes the unifying move of a church being witness and moving toward new birth.

The Spirit Sets the Rhythm

Rhythm needs to be set by someone so others know to match that rhythm. One of the recurring ideas within Pastor as Midwife is the idea that the mother sets the rhythm of the birth. The entire birthing community of the mother syncs to her rhythm. Trying to set the rhythm for the mother only causes trauma. Why is this so important to midwives? Because the baby is not theirs. If pastors see the church as their baby, they will kill it. For the Church, our rhythm should be set by the Spirit, because the Church belongs to Christ and not us, not our denominations, and not our own comfort.

Pastor Shawna puts it very well.

“Pastor, your first and last priority is attending to the Holy Spirit, who centers the church on Christ. The well-being of the church is a secondary outcome of the church’s attention to the Spirit. If the Spirit is our true Mother who is leading the church in the birth of new creation, a pastor’s role is to listen to her lead and help the church follow in her rhythm.”

Would our anxieties about decline be more about trying to control a birth not our own. We could release that anxiety by seeing ourselves as attendants to the Spirit birthing the new life of the Church. How would our measurements of the Church change in light of centering us in the rhythm of the Holy Spirit?

Success would be measured very differently than it is today. Attendance, giving, and raw numbers don’t really tell the story well. Instead we might highlight evidence of lives changed, communities transformed, and people sharing the stories of how they are moving in the rhythm of the Spirit. It may be difficult to quantify, but imagine recounting the people who attend to those who go to altars. What if our numbers included those who prayed with rather than just those who prayed? I can imagine the picture now of the church swaying in rhythm to the Spirit.

It would be very like my first encounter with an African-American church in my youth. The Hammond B3 started the movement, then the choir burst into the sanctuary swaying to the rhythm. Soon the entire church, even the row of young mostly white Boy Scouts, were swaying to that same rhythm. My entire recollection of that morning is that rhythm woven into every move. The preaching had call and response in the rhythm, the prayers had rhythm. We were all one in that rhythm on that day and there was an obvious seeking of the rhythm with God. That’s what it looks like when the Spirit sets the rhythm - a whole room, even the skeptics and the uncertain, finding the same sway.

The “Dead Twin” and the Future of the Church

I believe we all have anecdotes of positive moves within churches that are slowed or ended because of those clinging to the past, even if that past never existed. Gaines refers to these as the dead twins within the church. Within the joy of birth, there are those intensely sad realities of not quite living in new creation fully. One of those is the reality of a dead twin who slows the progression of the living twin.

What are the dead twins in our midst? A program running years past its usefulness? The aging and expensive building? A cultural identity that the church clings to out of fear? It is not only pastors that feel the anxiety of not being in control, but congregations and denomination as well. What are the responses when you choose to follow the lead of the Spirit to the fear of an unknown path? Pastor Shawna tells the story of a pastor sharing about an exciting new direction of ministry to the community. “We just got the news that we are pregnant, and not everyone is sure they want the baby.” The reality about birth is that “[e]verything in the womb has to be born, whether dead or alive”

So pastors come alongside all and help the church grieve that which must die while midwifing what must be born. This is not running roughshod over objections, but helping the grieving to grieve and rejoice in rhythm with the Spirit. I know of several pastors who made decisions to remove aging pews and replace them with chairs. But, pews represent a safe and stable past. I am amazed at the response to removing pews, but I also recognize the grief of change. Allowing for grief while new birth is happening helps us to move everyone toward the promise of the new birth. This is movement, as is all birth, but we don’t just cut those and move on from the dead twin. We grieve and invite the fearful to witness the promise of new birth.

The Body Christ Is Still Birthing

What would it look like to love the Church as organism. A messy, alive, and unpredictable living organism rather than an institution? We don’t build the church - God births the church. The organism of the Church has outlived institutions over the millennia. The great “rummage sales” mentioned above included upheaval and anxiety much like we feel today. Around 500 C.E. Rome fell and that birthed an emerging Western Church shedding the ancient world order. Then around 1000, the Western and Eastern Churches finally cleaved their unity through the Great Schism. The last we named is around 1500 and the Protestant Reformation. Those all caused grief and the end of institutions, but the organism experienced new birth. In the words of Dr. Ian Malcom, “life finds a way.” The Church is life.

Are we prepared to assist in birth? Gaines invites us:

“If you believe that God is bringing new creation into the midst of the old, prepare to assist in birth. Roll up your sleeves and boil some water. And quickly! Let the Spirit lead, and get yourself out of the center of the frame.”

“The Lord is my midwife, I shall be kept safe.” is a posture of invitation to be participants in the new birth of the Church. We are invited as Paul reminds us, ALL creation is groaning as in the pains of labor. New creation is being birthed by God and we are witnesses and co-laborers in that birth. We do not set the rhythm or the timing, but we move within that rhythm and invite others to experience this with us. We may even need to get out of the way.

Imagine if we quit trying to preserve a dying version of the Church? We don’t stop grieving the loss, but we continue with the birth, trusting that God is with us in these pains. Where are you in the birthing process? Where is your congregation? Your denomination? How do we become a body still being born?

Notes

Books

Shawna Songer Gaines, The Pastor as Midwife (IVP, 2026). The primary source for the midwife metaphor, birth-as-dance imagery, and the “dead twin” concept running throughout this essay.

Phyllis Tickle, The Great Emergence: How Christianity Is Changing and Why (Baker Books, 2008). Tickle popularized the “giant rummage sale” framing of the church’s 500-year cycles, attributed to Bishop Mark Dyer.

Ryan Burge’s Substack, Graphs About Religion (graphsaboutreligion.com), is the source for the denominational decline data referenced in Section 1.

Pop Culture References

Elaine Benes — A character from the television show Seinfeld (1989-1998), played by Julia Louis-Dreyfus. In Season 6, Episode 18 (”The Fusilli Jerry”), Elaine performs an awkward, jerky dance at a party that became one of the show’s most iconic moments. The reference in Section 3 contrasts her uncoordinated flailing with the idea of the church moving in genuine sync with the Spirit.

Dr. Ian Malcolm — A character from Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park (and the 1993 film adaptation, played by Jeff Goldblum). A chaos theorist who repeatedly notes that life cannot be contained or controlled, culminating in the line “life finds a way.” The reference in Section 6 draws the parallel: the Church as organism will outlive any institution built to contain it.

The conversation covers the tension between waiting and suffering, why male pastors might need this metaphor most, the difference between generative pain and oppression, informed consent in the church, and why “if ministry is your baby, you’ll probably end up killing it.” Whether you’re a pastor, a lay leader, or just someone trying to figure out what it means to be the church, this episode will change how you think about what God is doing in the dark.

Church of the Nazarene Clergy this series has a Lifelong Learning Code: 919014

Embodied Imagination

“We meet God in our bodies.” (Gaines)

When we neglect the physical, it inevitably suffocates the image of a God who ate, slept, cried, bled, grew, and healed. And whether or not the origin of that neglect is hatred, it will indeed end in hatred. You want to tell me to love God? Ask me when I’ve last eaten. Come now, you want me to tell you a prayer? You’ll find it in the blood beating from heart to head to toe and home again.Don’t ask me of salvation. Listen to the hum of my chest as I now fall asleep. I cannot see the face of God by rejecting my own. -- COLE ARTHUR RILEY, THIS HERE FLESH (Gaines)

We are an embodied people. Christians claim to worship an embodied God. We gather in the ecclesial imagination of a body of that very God.

What if we really believed that? What if those of us who are Wesleyan-Holiness believed and acted as if we are an embodied people? What if we lived into this reality and claimed rather than running from it? But like many of our ongoing credibility gaps (see Wynkoop), we do not actually live out our claims. There is a tremendous gap between what we claim to believe and what many of us teach through our actions, speech, and even teachings. To get specific, the Church of the Nazarene (COTN) has copious words around our concern for the sanctity of life, the care for bodies, the care for embodied people who are oppressed, the concern for recognizing the way some bodies are treated differently than others. The egalitarian belief that the body does not determine fitness for ordination, administration of the sacraments, or leadership and the care for our own bodies by abstaining from harmful activities, substances, and attitudes. Yet, we don’t actually live those words out consistently.

For all the concern over following our doctrines, we have clergy who continue to make claims contrary to our actual doctrines. You see, we have an imperfect doctrine of human sexuality. It is imperfect because we try to hold tension and tension creates imperfection. But if we live out our doctrines with consistency we can at least be honest. But, we don’t seem to be able to live that out. Our doctrine can be summarized into the idea that sexuality is only holy within a monogamous marriage of people of the opposite sex. Of course, we expound by being clear that same-sex attraction or queerness is not inherently sinful, only sexual acts outside of the aforementioned statement are sinful.

This leads to some gaps. But one overwhelming gap is the idea that one cannot see themselves as gay or queer. The way this is expressed is generally something like this: “You cannot call yourself gay and be a Christian. You cannot have any identity that is aligned with a temptation, in fact your only identity must be in Christ.” There are multiple logical, anthropological, and theological problems with such a statement. For Nazarenes, we have our Manual statement and a ruling from our Board of General Superintendents (BGS) that contradict such language. In addition our 2023 General Assembly rejected a resolution that would have insisted we can only have our identity in Christ. It was rejected partly for being illogical. One stated objection: in addition to having an identity in Christ, I am a father, mother, son, etc.

But the language is incongruent with our doctrine as well. The identity section was to be inserted in the section on human sexuality; the very section that makes this idea illogical from a Wesleyan perspective. It also creates credibility gaps against that which we claim. Why, after the rejection of this language, would clergy continue to make the claim that one cannot see themselves as gay? Because there is pressure to be like non-Wesleyans who make inconsistency a mark of their theology. It is also a gap that persists because of a lack of theological depth and understanding of Wesleyan embodied anthropology. That is an expensive gap because filling it requires hard work, open dialogue, and humility. And we have not yet decided we want to do that work.

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Why “Identity in Christ” Fails

The COTN was right to reject language of having our sole identity in Christ. In fact, the resolution that was rejected by the full assembly added language about identifying with temptation or sin. That’s the language mentioned above. This was rejected for primarily logical reasons. But I believe that gaps remain because we have not dealt enough with the theological reasons that dissolving our particular identities into Christ are inconsistent with an embodied Wesleyan theology.

Language such as having our sole identity in Christ may seem a pious or holy way to view identity. Paul after all uses similar language in Galatians 3:28.

1. There is no Jew or Greek, servant or free, male or female: because you are all one in Jesus Christ.

But as with all proof texts, this one fails to prove the identity claim when we look at the broader passage context.

For all those of you who were given baptism into Christ did put on Christ. There is no Jew or Greek, servant or free, male or female: because you are all one in Jesus Christ. And if you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s seed, and yours is the heritage by the right of God’s undertaking given to Abraham. (Gal 3:27-29 NRSVue)

Do you see it? We are to be “one in Jesus Christ.” This passage is about how our differences do not keep us from being one in Christ, not about those differences melting into one. If that were the case Paul’s description of the Church as a body in 1 Corinthians would be irrelevant. You can’t be a diverse body with all the parts dissolved into one. You can have a unity of purpose as a body and that purpose is to be clothed with Jesus - to reflect the goodness of God.

If we adopt or live out the idea of our only identity being in Christ, then race, gender, or disability do not matter. But our doctrines claim these do matter in recognition of how the world twists and warps the value of human beings based upon our differences. It is hard to repent of racism if you claim that race is unimportant for example. Waving aside differences with a doctrinal claim of only identity is a dead end, and the COTN saw it as a dead end.

More than a dead end, it is an accommodation of Platonic dualism and one of the roots of Gnosticism. The logical argument is enough to reject the “only identity in Christ” language. But the theological cost is deeper than logic.

Wesleyans reject the idea of sanctification as an escape from the body. No, for Wesleyans, sanctification happens in and through the body. The cross is our example - the body of Jesus the Christ beaten and hung on a tree points to the redemption of the body in resurrection and ascension. Jesus did not escape his embodiment and neither do we.

It is in our bodies that we are sanctified, because Wesleyans believe sanctification is a reality that comes in this life, not something deferred to the next. Our identity is sanctified through the body of Jesus and through our own bodies. Our clergy forget this when trying to impose platonic ideas about identity onto our Wesleyan conviction of embodied holiness. Wesleyans believe in embodied sanctification because we take seriously the origin story of scripture. Rev. Shawna Gaines says it this way:

My work is grounded in a theological anthropology that begins in Genesis 1 and not Genesis 3, a view of creation and bodies created by God in love, made in God’s image, and called very good (Gen 1:31). God created a people who are creative, giving birth to new ideas, inventions, art forms, organizations, and bodies. And it is very good! (p. 67)

Placing our identity outside this reality and theological belief does damage to our doctrines.

The Body as a Site of Grace

For Wesleyans, the body is not a problem to be solved. The body is the site of God’s labor. We can connect the quote of beginnings with a wider understanding of the metaphor of midwifery from Shawna Gaines. We are a people who need new birth, but as Nicodemus recognizes, this is not a return to the womb. No, it is a new birth within the body we have now. Ours is a labor of the body being newly born.

As I mentioned previously, we are embodied and sanctified, not disembodied and sanctified. Our bodies are means of grace because they carry the reality of human experience. The one in whom we are discipled, Jesus, carried embodiment into the heavens. Yet we continue to act as if our bodies are anchors to the world rather than entrances into the Kingdom of God. Like labor, sanctification is the sometimes painful experience of the incredible joy of new life. New creation cannot come disembodied because creation is itself the substantive reflection of goodness.

This helps us understand that desire is never the enemy. Disordered desire is the enemy. But what is disordered desire? It is desire that has turned in on itself - a lust for power, wealth, another human being. Disordered desire can never be quenched because it feeds only upon more desire. Wesleyans have traditionally called this concupiscence: desire curved inward, away from God and neighbor.

We can see disordered desire at work in both poles that attempt to stretch the human being. The sexual revolution insists that sexuality is nothing more than a physical act; desire expressed is desire fulfilled. Purity culture responds by treating human beings as helpless pawns to animal desires that must be contained. Neither has a good answer for an embodied theology of humanity. Desire is not self-actualized lust that must be expressed or quenched, nor is it a thing that must be ignored or suppressed.

But attraction is not the same as desire. This is where careful distinction matters, especially when we talk about same-sex attraction. Our understanding is better expressed this way: attraction is what we experience as human beings in a general sense - we find people, ideas, experiences compelling for reasons we do not always control. Same-sex attraction and opposite-sex attraction are both forms of this general human experience. What matters theologically is not the direction of the attraction but what we do with it - how it is taken up into the life of sanctification.

But desire is also not sin until it becomes a consuming, disordered lust. Desire can be sanctified and shaped by becoming like Jesus. This does not entail our attractions changing, but it shapes our desires to be centered in a Christlike life. Pastorally, we often find ourselves sitting with someone for whom desire has become disordered. This can be in many contexts including sexuality, adrenaline rushes, food, drugs, alcohol, and so many other things. But whatever the desire, we can lead with grace and mercy by being with the person whose life is being transformed into Christlikeness. We also must trust the Spirit in these interactions.

Much like a midwife does not control the birth, pastors do not control the path of sanctification. Nor do we control responses to the Spirit. That is the work of prevenient grace and love. We can let go of the desire to control and become free to minister.

Orientation, Identity, and the Life of Sanctification

If orientation is not sin then what is it? That is a legitimate and important question for anyone who cares about a life of holiness. The simple path is to label orientation with categorical certainty, but life is not easily categorized. Life is complex and we are a complex species. So here is my attempt: orientation is a feature of embodied existence that, like all embodied features, is taken up into the life of sanctification. It is not the whole of a person’s identity, but it is not nothing either.

The pastoral vocation of the church is not to resolve the tension of affirming or rejecting human beings, but to accompany people in the tension while the Holy Spirit does the work. We are a people who claim the grace of prevenience, yet we flee from the very tension that prevenient grace brings. This is a move Andrew Root would call sitting with people on their sorrow. (Root)

Concretely, this looks like a pastor sitting across from a young adult who has trusted them enough to say, “I don’t know what to do with this part of myself.” The pastor’s first instinct may be to reach for a category - to classify, to resolve, to give an answer. But the midwife knows that birth cannot be rushed. The pastoral task is not to have the right answer ready. It is to stay in the room, to trust that the Spirit is already laboring in this person’s life, and to accompany them while the Spirit works. That is harder than having a rule. It is also more faithful to a Wesleyan theology of embodied grace.

In the end neither orientation nor identity are barriers to sanctification. That is because sanctification, like any work of grace, is a move of God. We cooperate, but it is only through God that we are sanctified. It is not only individuals who need sanctification. The Church also needs sanctification in our understanding of orientation. We need better language, categories, and better pastoral practices. We need better willingness to sit in the discomfort of not having it all figured out.

The Pastor as Midwife to Embodied Holiness

The pastor who trusts the Spirit’s labor stops needing to have the right answer. Instead, the pastoral task is accompaniment - we are accompanying people in labor. Every person in our lives is laboring with life’s curveballs and with the transformative work of the Holy Spirit. There are so many things we cannot control, and our calling is to trust the Spirit rather than attempt to control the labor.

Continuing this idea, pastoral work is one of informed consent when done properly. Human beings are active participants in the work of transformative holiness. They are not passive recipients of pastoral pronouncements (at least they should not be). We definitely do not rain shame upon people. “Shame is the enemy of intimacy and the greatest obstacle to true maturity in Christ” (Gaines) Human beings are not going to experience transformation if we keep putting roadblocks in their paths.

What does this look like on a Sunday morning? It looks like a sermon with a different kind of authority - not the authority of someone who has all the answers, but the authority of someone who has learned to trust the Spirit’s work in bodies she does not control. It names the complexity of human desire honestly, without flinching, and then trusts the congregation to sit in that complexity rather than rushing to resolve it. It looks like a small group where someone can say “I don’t have this figured out” and the response is not a corrective but a quiet “neither do I. Let us walk together.” That kind of space is not soft or directionless. It is harder to create than a rule. And it is the only kind of space where real transformation happens.

A pastor who midwifes embodied holiness creates space for people to wrestle with their desires in community without fear of condemnation and without the pressure to have it all figured out. This is hard. It is also worth it. Imagine walking with people being birthed into new life, seeing moments of transformation and growth into the likeness of Jesus. That becomes possible when we stop needing to be certain. Rules are easy. Embodied transformation is hard.

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The Body Christ Is Birthing

In the introduction to The Pastor as Midwife Gaines quotes Barbara Brown Taylor:

New life starts in the dark. Whether it is a seed in the ground, a baby in the womb, or Jesus in the tomb, it starts in the dark. --BARBARA BROWN TAYLOR, LEARNING TO WALK IN THE DARK

The church may be in the dark on how we better explain, minister, or find language, but it is in that early darkness that life springs forth. What if we approached our mission to invite people into discipleship by seeing this as a birthing process rather than a systematic sales pitch? What difference does embodiment make to the church in difficult conversations?

I imagine it looks like the church in which each and every person sees themselves as participants in new birth. Imagine the church in which those who make us uncomfortable reach out in their own discomfort to kneel and pray with someone they see is hurting? I can imagine a line of human beings kneeling at altars, embraced in mutual prayers of anguish and joy, of heartache and new life.

It may even look like the Wesleyan choice to trust the Spirit working in and through bodies over time. Trusting that in time healing and transformation will take place in all of us, but not rushing the Spirit to perform for us. It is the Wesleyan invitation to be bathed in the grace and love of God until that love overflows into those around us. I have no conclusions or pithy bite-sized solutions. What I do have is many questions, the biggest being

Where is the Spirit laboring that we are afraid to attend?

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Gaines, Shawna Songer. The Pastor as Midwife: Life-Giving Leadership for the Healing of the Church. IVP Academic, n.d.

Root, Andrew. Evangelism in an Age of Despair: Hope beyond the Failed Promise of Happiness.