Earlier this year we spoke with Jana Peterson (MDiv ‘21) to learn more about why she chose to pursue a Master of Divinity degree and her vision for ministry post-graduation. Keep reading to learn more about what Jana encountered in her courses and her Integrated Project—an in-depth dissertation each theology student completes as a culmination of their studies.

What initially drew you to ������Ƶ’s Master of Divinity graduate program?

Having encountered traumatic themes in my personal story, I believed a deeper relationship with ������Ƶ and ������Ƶ community to be the next step toward healing. I was inspired by Dr. Dan Allender’s approach to trauma work as well as Dr. Dwight Friesen’s vision for doing church in the context of the local neighborhood. Coming from a conservative background, I thought that meant I could not be a pastor. So while I had a thirst for a fresh relationship with the Bible, I applied to ������Ƶ as a counseling student. My first healing choice once accepted and in the building was to enroll in the appropriate program as a Master of Divinity student.

What have you been surprised by in this MDiv program?

I knew that studying toward a MDiv would mean learning the languages and cultures of the Biblical text, but I did not quite realize that I would also have to learn to read my own culture and my own (English) language in a more in-depth way. I feel more prepared to interact with current events because of my MDiv studies, which is something I did not expect going into the program four years ago.

In what ways has your story impacted, shaped, or inspired your studies?
������Ƶ gives students ample opportunities to reflectively respond to the material they learn in class. We do not simply learn facts and figures. Instead, we are invited to respond to, push back on, and wholeheartedly interact with class content. Because of this, I have a deeper understanding of the themes of my life story, how these themes shape my understanding of vocation and feel empowered to relate to my world in a more embodied way. My story (past) has deeper meaning since it has been given space to inform my story (future).

Tell us about the Integrative Project. What topic did you choose and why? What did you learn from the process, and how have you applied it to your work?

In my Integrative Project, I attempted to create a new hermeneutic, particularly for white Americans, that is both inclusive and anticolonial. As my classes at ������Ƶ helped me better understand the themes of my own life that contributed to the trauma I hold in my body, I began to realize the wideness of harm wielded throughout history by those who claimed to speak in the name of God. I believe we have a choice in how we interpret our sacred texts and that it is possible to read them unto the flourishing of all people rather than to perpetuate harmful hierarchies. Throughout the process, I gained a deeper appreciation for the unique intersectional and interdisciplinary ways each person approaches the text. Our individual experiences are invaluable as we read together in community.

What are your hopes, dreams, and desires as they relate to your future vocation?

I hope to continue the work I began at ������Ƶ, to step into a vocation that empowers others to discover their voice in the way that ������Ƶ has helped me hear my own. And I long to be a part of a faith community that values the multiplicity of voices and experiences. With graduation still in the recent past, I’m still discovering the particulars of what this means for me, but I’m okay with that!

How has your time at ������Ƶ prepared you for what’s next?

In a field that is still male-dominated, my MDiv degree in and of itself is a stepping stone toward my future work. Beyond this, the way ������Ƶ uniquely teaches at the intersection of theology and psychology makes space for unique kinds of learning that I don’t think I would have received elsewhere. As I leave ������Ƶ, I am more grounded and have tools to be personally more faithfully present to myself and to my world than I had four years ago. I’ve learned to attune to my own heart and, in the process, have grown in my ability to give that gift to others. It’s a process and the learning continues after graduation, but I could not do the work I am doing now without the training I received at ������Ƶ.

What drives you to continue in ministry?

My hope lies in my belief that death is never the end and the promise of life abounds. We see this in creation almost anywhere we look. I see it in the saplings that grow up around the tree in my back yard that died in the wind storm last summer. I see it in the way composting gives us nutrient-rich soil. This is the earth’s witness of the life Spirit is birthing in our world. In addition to this, it is helpful to know that I am not alone in this work. I formed deep relationships during my time at ������Ƶ with people who will always be colleagues.

What advice would you give someone who’s interested in our Master of Divinity program?

Getting an MDiv at ������Ƶ is a life-changing proposition. You and your community will be challenged as you do the work asked of you in your classes. Your relationships will not be the same ~ in a good way. The work is hard. It is personally and emotionally challenging. But I would do it again in a heartbeat. The benefits of this program go far beyond learning a new way to engage Bible to learning new ways of living with others in mutual, collaborative community. Rest into the work ahead of you. Trust the learning process created for you by professors who love you. I hope these years of play lead you to incredible discoveries.

The post Alumni Spotlight: Q&A with Jana Peterson, MDiv ‘21 appeared first on ������Ƶ of Theology & Psychology.

Earlier this year we spoke with Millicent Haase (MDiv ‘21) to learn more about why she chose to pursue a Master of Divinity degree and her vision for ministry post-graduation. Keep reading to learn more about what Milli encountered in her courses and her Integrative Project—an in-depth dissertation each theology student completes as a culmination of their studies.

What drew you to ������Ƶ’s Master of Divinity graduate program?

Seminary had been on my mind for a while before pursuing my Master of Divinity (MDiv) degree at ������Ƶ. Before coming to the red brick building, I had completed my MA in Comparative Religion at the University of Washington and had taught undergraduate religion courses—both as a Teaching Assistant and then as a Faculty Liaison. I was trained to look at religion secularly—as a human, social phenomenon with quantifiable data points—that considering seminary was initially easily dismissed as “no, I’m too academic for that.” I grew up in Hawai’i with a fusion of progressive, non-denominational Christian theologies and indigenous worldviews, and felt comfortable taking a critical look at religion. What I found I was missing at UW, though, was the permission to both critically examine and engage religion—because I do believe religion is the most fascinating subject and the Bible is the greatest story ever told (especially if you read it in Hebrew and Greek!)—and also be in conversation with God. Because when I am honest with myself, I am not just an academic, I am a fully embodied, believing, spiritual, soulful person looking for smart and alternative ways to engage the Divine in community. ������Ƶ balanced both of these impulses, and today I feel like a more well-rounded and robust Christian scholar-practitioner.

My coming to ������Ƶ was slightly serendipitous – or Spirit lead – in that I had a co-worker enrolled in the MACP program at the time I began looking at seminaries, and my mentor (Dr. James Wellman, UW) casually looped me in that his wife attended ������Ƶ and he absolutely saw me attending. Upon arriving on campus for my initial campus tour and exploration with Ashlee Knight, Dr. Ron Ruthruff greeted me at the front desk, and I must say, his down-to-earth, real, no-nonsense welcome sealed it for me. I thought to myself: “What is this rugged, progressive, red-brick building of a school?” And: “If Dr. Ruthruff is the kind of faculty that’s here, I’m in.” Dr. Ruthruff would go on to become my Integrative Project advisor and biggest source of understanding, support, and encouragement throughout my time at ������Ƶ.

What have you been surprised by in this MDiv program?

What’s so great about ������Ƶ is its multi-denominational aspect. What surprised me was that, while a lot of my peers were deconstructing their long-held theologies—and I was as well, to be sure—I found myself falling into theologies in a way that amazed me. I never felt indoctrinated, but the more we dug deep into the Bible, various historical translations, and how various translations have shifted through time, I didn’t find myself falling away from Christianity, but rather, falling deeper into Christianity in a more multifaceted way. And I feel tremendously hopeful in this. The time has long come for the deconstruction of calcified systems and patterns, and rather than feeling at a loss, I feel encouraged that something new and beautiful and Spirit lead is being birthed, and I’m thrilled to be part of the conversations.

In what ways has your story impacted, shaped, or inspired your studies?

My growing up in Hawai’i shaped my theologies, and my lived experiences bubbled up so powerfully that for my final Integrated Project, I researched Hawaiian de-colonial and anti-colonial theologies and practices. For my first Master’s degree (MA in Comparative Religion at UW), I spent considerable time on location in Israel and the Occupied Territories studying Modern Hebrew and Arabic and researching the ways the religious courts are modernizing, rendering religion a considerable part of human social change and influence. I’m absolutely in love with the Middle East and thought I might continue looking towards that region of the world in my research. But my story turned me around – literally – towards my Pacific context, a place which deeply informed me, a prophetic place that has claimed Jesus as their own to powerfully and radically undermine empire – and everything clicked into place. Of course, I see the world the way I do, and what’s more: there’s value to my perspective. So, I leaned into my story.

Tell us about the Integrative Project. What topic did you choose and why? What did you learn from the process, and how have you applied it to your work?

My Integrative Project—S—is one example of an anticolonial engagement with a decolonial theologian for the shared venture of prophetically undermining empire as contextually located, fully embodied Jesus followers.

Eurocentric churches have attempted programs of racial reconciliation to varying degrees of success, most of which are left wanting. Our task as white Christians seeking appropriate antiracist and anticolonial ally-ship is to listen and to be changed by story. Rather than fit indigenous narratives into our own, for example, how can we be changed – seriously theologically and systemically changed? This project is an anticolonial project – one from within the dominating majority seeking to undermine power – that seeks to unsettle Eurocentric theologies. Decolonial theologians – theologians from the margins – are illuminating biblical motifs and theologies in nuanced ways, and these are the voices we need to guide us into more complete and unfolding ethics of Jesus if we are to advance the broader postcolonial project of dismantling systems of white supremacy.

By looking to Rev. Dr. Kaleo Patterson as one example of an indigenous decolonial theologian nuancing Eurocentric theologies, practitioners are invited to consider the ways the Hawaiian demigod Kukailimoku illuminates: 1. God’s desire to simply be with us; 2. The invitation to re-image the Cross; 3. The shortcomings of atonement theories and the invitation to something new. Drawing upon social anthropology, theology, biblical studies, and history, I excavate Patterson’s sermons, take us to the biblical motifs Patterson himself highlights, and then explore what indigenously nuanced theologies look like and what this means for anticolonial allies. While I am drawing heavily on the work of Rev. Dr. Patterson as one example of a decolonial indigenous theologian, I am not merely reporting his words and ideas. Rather, I am accepting Patterson’s invitation, among other decolonial theologians, to poke holes in Eurocentric theologies, and modeling ways by which our theological imaginations can play and expand in liberating ways.

What are your hopes, dreams, and desires as they relate to your future vocation?

I accepted the position of Assistant Instructor for ������Ƶ and I am honored and thrilled to continue in this project of robust engagement with the Divine in such a life-giving community. Coaching graduate-level writing and research in the seminary classroom pulls on both parts of me: one comfortable with critically interrogating religion—Christian missions in Hawai’i have a lot to answer to—and also one deeply engaged with the Divine all around me. I’d love to keep working with religion in academic settings, perhaps even continue my research in a doctoral program? Dr. Ruthruff held strong to Integrative Project page limit because I was ready to write another 100 pages more, so there’s so much more for me to say and learn and experience and challenge.

How has your time at ������Ƶ prepared you for what’s next?

I thought I was too academic for seminary, but while at ������Ƶ I have pastored my peers and teachers. I have co-facilitated communion for our community in ways that challenge traditional church hierarchies. I have preached on campus and for an urban church community. I have broken bread with our unhoused neighbors, prayed with them, laughed and cried with them, and have been taught by them. I belong to a cohort of peers and teachers that have journeyed alongside me and will no doubt be with me through every next stage (my baby shower was even on campus!). I have co-hosted campus vespers services, vigils, celebrations, and banquets alongside student leadership. I was chosen to be our graduation student speaker. I have practiced pastoring in a safe space, and now I’m ready for more.

What drives you to continue in ministry?

This is such a robust field bursting forth with new life and potential. This is especially felt in the Pacific Northwest, a place of church “nones,” who aren’t “none” as initially thought, but are looking for – and bringing forth – alternatives. This is absolutely the place to be at the most exciting time.

What advice would you give someone who’s interested in our Master of Divinity program?

I was tucked in a corner on campus once, reading, and President Dr. Derek McNeil paused while passing by to tell me to look up every now and then. Yes, so much learning comes from our books, and for a theology student, our reading lists are like gift lists, but what we will remember most comes from our experiences in community. ������Ƶ is a special place. You will be challenged, to be sure, you will learn, and you will grow, but it’s the people who make this place what it is. If Spirit is wooing you, like she did me, come and experience.

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I’m one of the many that became fascinated by the podcast after a friend recommended it. Then, when listening to Episode 5 (“The Things We Do to Women”), I was surprised to hear a familiar voice: my colleague Dr. Rose Madrid-Swetman. Dr. Madrid-Swetman, the Northwest Regional Leader of the denomination and an adjunct faculty member at ������Ƶ of Theology & Psychology, shared about her experience providing pastoral care for people who had left Mars Hill.

Listening to The Rise and Fall podcast brought to mind so many of the concepts that Dr. Rose Madrid-Swetman teaches in our shared project, Certificate in Resilient Service at ������Ƶ of Theology & Psychology. As the researcher for this program, I wanted to hear more about her experience about what hurts and helps Christian leaders who are trying to avoid the pitfalls of abusive leadership and structures.

Andrea: When Mike Cosper called and asked to interview you for this podcast, what compelled you to say yes?

Dr. Madrid-Swetman: I thought it was important to tell the story. As a female pastor in the city of Seattle, I was constantly hearing the stories of women being traumatized by the toxic theology and culture of Mars Hill Church. My hope is the church universal can listen to the people that have been harmed and learn from stories like that of Mars Hill. If we are willing to hear, there is so much to learn.

Andrea: Clearly, Mars Hill is a visible example of church dysfunction, but it’s far from the only church to struggle like this. How have you seen similar dynamics play out in other churches with other leaders?

Dr. Madrid-Swetman: This is true. Mark is not an anomaly. What happened at Mars Hill has played out over and over again in both small and large churches. The West’s industrial religious complex is designed to produce and reward leaders who misuse their power like this. As I was teaching leadership classes at ������Ƶ, I would tell my students that Mars Hill is an excellent case study in this kind of abuse of power that is enabled by some churches.

Andrea: Part of what drew my compassion in this podcast was the hurt experienced by other leaders at Mars Hill as they were drawn in by Driscoll. Cosper concludes that many of these leaders (who were almost exclusively men) were drawn to Driscoll due to experiences way back in their childhoods. What would you tell a leader who wants to be aware of their vulnerabilities to manipulation from those who lead them and those who they lead?

Dr. Madrid-Swetman: I would say you have to know your story, you have to do a deep dive into the impact of your early years and understand how you were formed in your family. That process brings a self-awareness of your strengths and weaknesses—and also an awareness of how you repeat, in the present, patterns of relating that you learned in your family. By understanding and working through how you were formed in your family, you learn how you could be vulnerable to manipulation or how you are set up to lead from your weaknesses, often causing harm.

Andrea: Another Mars Hill dynamic that Cosper draws out is the echo chamber it created for leaders. It struck me how much the leaders around Driscoll would have been helped by receiving more outside perspectives. Leadership in the church is often isolating, so how can leaders find that kind of perspective and support?

Dr. Madrid-Swetman: This is important. I think all leaders need a community of people outside of their church who they get input from—people they can be completely real with. That could be peers from other denominations, a therapist, a spiritual director or a mentor that you trust. Leaders need safe spaces to reflect vulnerably. Mars Hill had a closed system, theologically and socially. When you are in a closed system, vulnerability is too risky. I think leaders begin to internalize so many emotions that they cannot name. I have seen this in leaders who are struggling, feeling like they are not enough, and also with leaders like Mark who seem to have it all. I was part of a group that met with Mark in 2006 to discuss his public vitriolic speech about women; in talking with us, his defense about why he did not have mentors was that every person who he went to for mentoring ended up being jealous of him. I suggested he see a Roman Catholic priest for spiritual direction. I told him I guaranteed a priest would not be jealous of him.

Andrea: A lot of your work with Certificate in Resilient Service (CRS), which you helped design and currently teach in, is focused on creating healthy, sustainable lives for leaders. How is your work with CRS informed by your experiences with churches like Mars Hill?

Dr. Madrid-Swetman: I would say my work is informed by churches like Mars Hill and also by my own experience of leading a congregation. Leading a congregation can be one of the most isolating of vocations. It is so challenging to navigate all that comes with it, including the expectations you put on yourself and the expectations others have. I have seen so many leaders crash and burn. Many of them I know did not have the tools or the people in their lives to create a safe environment for vulnerability. Seeing this process play out over and over again in the lives of leaders, dear people with good intentions, made me even more committed to create safe spaces for leaders and advocate for sustainable ministry.

Andrea: What are the practices you recommend for Christian leaders who are seeking to be emotionally healthy?

Dr. Madrid-Swetman: I have so many thoughts on this. I think the practices of curiosity and reflection–about the leader’s life and the life of others—is key. Paying attention to what is happening in the world is also important. Right now that means engaging the question “How do we think theologically in a time of great upheaval and change?” Also, I would say it is imperative for a leader to commit to practices that keep them connected to God, the practices that ground you in the love of God,

Andrea: Seeing the narcissism of Driscoll increase as his power increased was not a surprise to me—research has shown that not only does ministry make those inclined to narcissism worse, but also that the pressures of ministry can actually induce narcissism in pastors who may not have otherwise been disposed to it. What counsel do you have for church leaders who want to create healthy conditions for their pastors to work in?

Dr. Madrid-Swetman: The system has to be one that will support leaders. Pastors cannot be endlessly giving care; they also need to receive care. That may mean the board allocates money and time for pastors to receive care. Congregations need to create an environment where leaders do not have to hide, but can be honest and ask for help. Too many pastors and leaders have to hide their struggles for fear of losing their jobs, their source of income. That requires that black and white thinking is challenged and people learn to hold dynamic tension. And, related to what happened at Mars Hill, I recommend that churches look at their own bylaws and see who holds the power if the church goes into crisis.

Andrea: Rose, you have been such a source of blessing in my own life. Can you leave us with a blessing for leaders–your hopes and prayers for those seeking to serve with humility and integrity?

Dr. Madrid-Swetman: I pray for leaders, that they would find safe spaces to be honest about their struggles. Places they can be honest with themselves and others. I pray they would seek out people who can come alongside them to remind them of who they are and who they are becoming. I pray they will resist the temptations that Henry Nouwen so timely named in Life of the Beloved, the temptations to be relevant, spectacular and powerful. I bless them to lead with humility, compassion and creativity. And, I pray that they may do justly, love mercy and walk humbly with the Lord. Amen.

If you are interested in hearing more from Rose about her experience providing pastoral care to people wounded by their experience with Mars Hill Church, listen to her on the podcast , featured in episodes “The Things We Do to Women” and “The Bobby Knight Problem.”

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Quotes

“To what extent do we think that God actually took on our humanity?” Dr. Chelle Stearns

“God is aware of the wounds of our body, the hurts to our soul, the aspects of our spirits that are downtrodden … God is not simply elevated and distant, but close, and probably we feel the hunger for closeness most when we are in pain. So the sense of aloneness that can come from pain and the sense that god is with us, coming alongside people to engage them in woundedness, in another type and depth of healing.” Dr. J. Derek McNeil

“The presence of God isn’t just solidarity, this is a presence that works on the world constantly. It calls to us into a way of being that doesn’t accept the pain and suffering in the world. And that’s the other side of it – it’s not a given that there is suffering, but there is fierce resistance against it as well.” Dr. Chelle Stearns

“It raises for me … puts me in the mind of thinking not about ‘how does God fix it,’ but ‘how does God live presently in it with us?’” Dr. J. Derek McNeil

“So what body, what kinds of bodies are enough, are full enough, are really human, to the point of imagining Jesus taking on their flesh?” Dr. Chelle Stearns

“Where does our brokenness fit with our hope of restoration?” Dr. J. Derek McNeil

“No wonder people responded to Jesus the way they did. He actually saw their faces, confronted their sorrows. It’s not just that he healed people and touched them, he saw who they were and this deep longing we have as humans, regardless of where we come from, but yet we each have that deep sorrow within us of we just want to be seen for who we are and known more deeply—not just deeply but being known truly, honestly, warts and all.” Dr. Chelle Stearns

Resources

• Watch Dr. Chelle Stearns speak on ‘Lament and Hope Through a Trauma-Informed Theology’ at our Seventh Annual Stanley Grenz Lecture
• Learn more about , author of “Blessings for a New Baby”
• Read

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As this Pandemic has spread, it has exposed and exploited the wounds and fissures of our society, revealing what has been here all along but many of us have refused to see. The true virus plaguing our country is one of systemic racism, systemic poverty, criminalization of poverty, and our refusal to address these things.*

Before * was even dreamt up, we were on Aurora Avenue here in Seattle, Washington. We were learning, listening, and lamenting. The more time spent, the more moments shared with our unhoused neighbors, the more love was propagated and proliferated and with each new year, this web of connection has grown and so with it has the habitual, exasperated grieving of unnecessary death.

Unnecessary death.

Let me write it one more time…

Unnecessary death.

Watching precious human beings, with a name and a heartbeat, wither away before our eyes slowly or suddenly, is something we have had to learn to bear witness to at . We unabashedly mourn the precious lives lost, the lives our society has named as “other” or “expendable”; the casualties of the exploitative capitalism and consumerism that we have inherited, that has co-opted our churches, our theologies, our priorities and every other aspect of our life.

It is because there are gaping, bleeding wounds in our policies, structures, and hearts that precious human beings die unnecessary deaths every moment of every day.

For us to bear witness to another death due to…

Skin color

Lack of identification

Access to adequate care

Racial Capitalism

Hate Crime

Stigma

Criminalization

Lack of Housing

Gender identity

Victimization

Mental health issues

Sexuality

Diagnosis

The cost of medication

Discrimination

Exploitation

The “war on drugs”

Felony charges

Survival

Food insecurity

You simply cannot understand what is going on in these streets across our nation today until you recognize the compounding weight of unnecessary death and how it impacts precious people.

The hard truth is that every single one of us has accepted the unnecessary deaths of our Black and Brown neighbors for far too long. Despite our good “Christian” intentions, we allow death policies and politicians, law enforcement, our own ideologies, fears, and the privileged powers to be the hands of our moral compass, and this cannot go on any longer.

This current movement was infused and animated by folks who have not had the privilege to ignore unnecessary death. They stand on the shoulders of a long line of ancestors. From the homes with a lack of clean water in Detroit, Michigan to “Steve” from the Commons who cannot afford his diabetic test strips. From Treasure who was murdered two weeks ago to “D” who was a social worker but is now stuck in the cycle of untreated mental illness and living on the streets. There is a holy lament and call for change. A prophet of our time, Rev. Dr. William Barber, says to mourn in public is to shock this nation’s conscience. The system is failing our people and millions more every day so the venerable shaking of the fist and rumble of feet pounding these streets, yes, is the right thing to do.

But it must be more than that. We, all of us, must acknowledge our proclivity towards the public discourse of our minds and not the profound revolution of our hearts. For how can you get the power structures of our nation to say “yes” when only your mind is connected and not your heart.

We need to be committed to decolonizing our minds and hearts; allowing the experts (the precious people within our midst, who have lived experience) to lead us, guide us, dismantle us. We must be committed to living into an economy of interdependence. And as we continue on in this commitment, we MUST allow this love to be what takes us to streets and we must take to the streets because our highest calling is to love the thousands upon thousands of precious human beings who have and will die unnecessary deaths. And we must not be silent anymore!

Dearest people, followers of Jesus, you must keep on.

Please keep on…

And may we keep on until there is no more bread line.

The post What Will We (You) Do With the Unnecessary Deaths of God’s Precious People? appeared first on ������Ƶ of Theology & Psychology.

While our bodies and souls ache with the recent abuses of power, we also recognize them as the most recent manifestation of a system that is older than our country. Our collective healing is tied to repentance and to the dismantling of systemic injustice and fear that continues to horrifically terrorize and target Black and Brown bodies. The work before us is immense, urgent, and important.

Faith communities have a vital role in cultural transformation. Churches are a source for many of us to discern God’s hopes for humanity, to align our desire with God’s, and to reorient ourselves towards the pursuit of that vision.

We are aware that, although we long for more diversity, ������Ƶ community is predominantly white. With that in mind, we compiled resources for churches that are predominantly white to engage race, no matter where they are in the conversation. In this era, perhaps churches can join not only the lament of the oppressed, and also make active progress towards the invitation to justice and peace.

Starting Places for Small Group Discussion

Articles

“,” from Women of the ELCA, is an 11-page guide for a process and tools for race conversations.

For a leadership team, “,” adapted by Scott Winn. This document names components of dominant culture that are often invisible to those who live in it; it points out the air we breathe. Where do these components feel true of your congregation’s culture? What other options might you cultivate? Follow-up with “,” adapted by Partners for Collaborative Change.

Books

has anti-racism reading lists for , , , and .

, by Resmaa Menakem. He addresses three audiences concurrently: white people, black/brown people, and law enforcement officers. For each, he not only teaches theory but also guides through practices for healing our bodies in order to heal relationships and communities.

by Adrian Pei illustrates examples of white supremacy and racism through leadership in a ministry setting. Recommended for use with a leadership team.

by Jemar Tisby addresses the American Church’s complicity in racism by examining the history of Christianity in the United States.

Videos & Movies

BlacKkKlansman is not only entertaining, its characters provide multiple entry points into conversations on race, culture, and law enforcement.

In addition to the book, The Color of Compromise by Jemar Tisby is also a.

Trainings and Experiences

, from The United Church of Christ, is a free, downloadable curriculum for white faith communities wishing to “engage in safe, meaningful, substantive, and bold conversations on race.”

provides culturally relevant professional development, keynotes, consulting, coaching and one-on-one diversity leadership support to organizations committed to improving their ability to work effectively across cultures.

exists to establish healthy multiethnic, economically diverse, socially just churches.

facilitates conversations and trainings for congregations to address race issues within the community.

When travel re-opens, consider a group pilgrimage to the in Montgomery, Alabama. Dr. J. Derek McNeil writes about his experience here.

Resources for Children & Youth Engagement

has resources to inform children about race, including , , , , and .

Theologies and Frameworks for Pastors

Videos

Dr. Soong-Chan Rah on , and the following .

Dr. Angela Parker (former professor at ������Ƶ) on , and calling us to resist being a chaplain of the empire.

In their final year of school, students in our Master of Arts in Theology & Culture and Master of Divinity programs create an integrative project — our version of a master’s thesis. Some of this year’s projects are on:

• (links go to 10-minute video presentations of their work)

Relevant projects from previous years include:

Alumni gather annually in Symposia to share what they’ve learned while “serving God and neighbor through transforming relationships” in 20-minute presentations. Relevant topics:

• Redeeming Identity in a Rapidly Changing Context

Books, Articles, and Lists

We curated this list of theologians and women of color who are at the forefront of conversations about womanist theology, gender, feminism, and race in the church.

by James Cone marries practical theology and social justice work.

by Linda Royster, identifying Christ as the “suffocating Son of Man,” present with those whose breath is cut off at the hands of government systems.

Because law enforcement disproportionately kills African-Americans, and addressing that discrepancy is an urgent need, these resources are largely about the Black experience. We recognize that healing must also be done with Native, Latin American, and Asian American bodies, history, and culture, perhaps especially here in the Pacific Northwest. Because we know our community is primarily white, and because it is white people’s fear that puts black and brown bodies in danger, these resources also discuss white identity and show white bodies doing the work of engaging race.

We recognize that this is not a comprehensive list of resources. Send an email to submissions@theseattleschool.edu to let us know what you would add. 

The post Anti-Racism Resources for White-Majority Churches appeared first on ������Ƶ of Theology & Psychology.

Annie: “While I’m concerned about what you would think of as politics—what would be in the political section of a newspaper—I’m also thinking about the politics of being human, the politics of church, the relational dynamics between people and between groups. That’s kind of what I mean by political in the broader sense.”

Annie is the host of , a podcast exploring the long and often problematic story of Christianity in the United States, grounded in the hope that by better understanding where other perspectives are coming from, we can be better conversation partners across difference and contribute to sustainable, collaborative social change.” Her work is primarily concerned with two questions, she says: What do we believe it means to be human? And what do we believe is true about God? On God Help Us, Annie and her guests wrestle with how both of those questions inform our relationship to each other and our response to events in the world around us.

Annie: “God Help Us is about information, it’s about what are our commonly held beliefs in this country, how are they informed by our Christian heritage? […] I’m hoping, on a more meta level, that it’s also a way of modeling those conversations, so we can feel defensive and have all the human range of emotions while we’re disagreeing with each other and still continue to talk to each other.”

Much of Annie’s work can be connected to the category of spiritual darkness, which was the focus of her Integrative Project at ������Ƶ, “Making a Home in the Dark.” In our 2018 Integrative Project Symposium, Annie offered this insight into what draws her to working with spiritual darkness: “I think that in those times when everything has been stripped away, we also lose hold of the lies we have believed about ourselves, about each other, and about God. So I’m left only with my desire and the question of what to do with it, and the question of what to do with this new reality. And I find that the only option really is to come home to myself. And in those places, I find that God is waiting for me there.”

Annie: “When we recognize that we have put our faith in something like patriarchy, it doesn’t let us go easily. These periods of darkness, of feeling completely lost and at our wits’ end, both communally and individually—it forces us to give up hope in what we’ve put our hope in. And that is this great gift that we can then decide we’re going to do something different now.”

In an era of fragmented relationships—and, therefore, fragmented politics—we are deeply grateful for the insightful, far-reaching conversations Annie is hosting. Here’s to listening deeply, speaking boldly, and returning again and again to our connections with each other.

Resources to Go Deeper

• You can learn more about Annie’s work, including God Help Us, at . And if you have ideas for future topics or guests on the podcast, email godhelp.podcast@gmail.com.
• As this conversation turned to purity culture, it brought to mind an article by Lauren Sawyer (MA in Theology & Culture, (‘14). Shauna asked Lauren to record an excerpt for this episode, and here’s the full article from Feminist Studies in Religion:
• To be fair, Annie’s reference to is more tangential than thematic. But it really is a great film!
• Shauna references an episode from NPR’s Invisibilia podcast about the relationship between uncertainty and dogmatism, and what we do when we don’t know what to do.
• Annie mentions being inspired by this article from Tyrone Beason at the Seattle Times:
• Just in time for summer, we got a bunch of book recommendations from Annie. Happy reading!
  • by Dr. Tina Schermer Sellers
  • by Frank Schaeffer
  • and by Amber Cantorna
  • by Mary Daly
  • by Miguel A. de la Torre

The post Politics, Theology, and Spiritual Darkness with Annie Mesaros appeared first on ������Ƶ of Theology & Psychology.

Find out more about our Master of Divinity program.

Could you give us an overview of what you do?

My title is Director of Organizational Development for The Allender Center at ������Ƶ—which, honestly, is really functioning like an Executive Pastor. I get to do leadership development for our staff at The Allender Center, creating consistent structures of communication, professional development, care, support. I’m also on faculty with The Allender Center, so I teach and work on the blog and podcast, as well as facilitating groups.

It’s interesting that all of those things—from the relational to the technical to the administrative—often fall under the role of pastor, too. Which raises another question: What does it mean to be a pastor?

I often joke that being a good pastor is just like being a good parent, but specifically in the realms of spiritual formation and identity development. When I think about a pastor, I think about someone who tells stories that help people locate themselves in a larger story. Both individually—“Who is God, and who are you?” and collectively—“Where have we come from, where are we now, where are we going?” I think it’s about providing good care.

I often say that, vocationally and in my calling, I’m a pastor by orientation. I find that whether I’m working in a tea shop and serving people crepes and loose leaf tea, or working on an admissions team recruiting students to a graduate program.

I’m guessing the tea shop’s not hypothetical.

No, I worked at a loose leaf tea shop the year after I graduated from ������Ƶ.

Was there a period of finding it hard to identify as a pastor, since you weren’t in the traditional paid staff position at a church?

Two moments come to mind. First, I did not come to graduate school to become a pastor, even though I came to pursue an MDiv. I came from a tradition where women couldn’t be pastors, so I didn’t have much imagination for myself as a pastor. I came to ������Ƶ because I thought I would be a professor. I knew I would do ministry, but I would maybe just do ministry through the academy. Then during my third year, Paul Steinke named me as a pastor. There was something about someone actually naming me pastor, inviting me to see that as part of my identity, that was really powerful.

And then, during our formational years at The Allender Center, there were some moments where we were in the midst of a lot of spiritual warfare and a lot of despair. I remember Dan was introducing me before the large group to teach, and he said, “Rachael really is the pastor of The Allender Center.” And as he said that, there was something that felt really true to me about that. It’s not a way I would necessarily have seen myself, but it was a way I was bringing myself in the midst of our team, calling us to remember who we are and who we’re called to be. So I felt like the unofficial pastor of The Allender Center, and then there’s the question of, what does it mean to be the pastor of a nonprofit? Is that sacrilegious?

It seems like there are layers: Something was going on inside you regarding your own identity and calling, but something else happens when others see that and name it. Why do you think that outward affirmation is so meaningful?

I think there’s something about anointing that is really important. We see that throughout the text, right? It’s something we’re meant for and made for: to have others bless aspects of our calling and identity and vocation. I think it’s why something like an ordination process holds so much meaning in the Church. There’s a way of anointing, honoring, and consecrating—setting apart a role. Though I think, at times in our culture, that setting apart means the role is elevated in a way that some people who have the esteem of pastor really abuse that power, and it creates this false dichotomy that people who are pastors or leaders in a ministry are actually doing ministry, not everyone else. That’s a really weak, thin theology, a really weak, thin missiology, a really weak, thin sense of what the Church actually is and how it functions.

This process of recognizing your pastoral gifting and embracing that and naming it true—how has that journey clarified or refined how you understand calling?

I don’t see calling as being just connected to vocation. It’s far more expansive than that. It’s that sense of knowing that, no matter what I’m doing, it’s okay to bring these parts of myself.

And there is some mythology that calling is static, when I actually think it’s something that develops and grows and shifts. I think it does stay pretty consistent in its rootedness, but the fruit it bears can change in different seasons. So we always need to be growing and learning and have a posture of curiosity and a willingness to surrender to formational processes.

“I don’t see calling as being just connected to vocation. It’s far more expansive than that.”

What would you say to somebody else who is recognizing aspects of their calling as a pastor, but also recognizing that it might come out in an unconventional context?

The more we know who we are, then we can make better decisions about where we want to give those parts of ourselves. Calling, again, is about more than vocation. Calling is about union, calling is about love—it’s always about love. So what are the really unique ways that you are equipped and gifted to love people and communities well? For some people, that will look like very traditional roles that have really clear boundaries, really clear definitions, and there’s nothing wrong with that. For others, it might mean you meander a bit, because there are certain skills you need to develop that go along with that calling. Some people might look at it and go, “Oh, this is a real deviation from your calling,” and I would say, “No, I actually think it was preparing me to be more fully equipped for my calling.”

So I would tell people, especially those who will find themselves in more unconventional spaces, we need healers and pastors and artists and therapists working in lots of different contexts. And it may not always look like the textbook. That doesn’t mean you’re not being faithful to live out your calling well.

Part of what we’re exploring is inspired by Barbara Brown Taylor’s language of your “altar in the world,” and the idea that our work in the world is a form of worship. Do you want to say anything about that?

Oh, I really like that. I was just reading , and I love Paul’s language of living faithfully to what you’ve been gifted—and that’s going to look different for each person in different seasons, based on different giftings—just be faithful to bring those gifts to the world in such a way that it is like a living sacrifice. I think we’re really scared of that word, sacrifice. And rightfully so—there’s been some theological and spiritual abuse that has used a word like sacrifice to maintain oppressive structures of power that are actually anti-Gospel. However, when we give of ourselves in a way that actually leads unto life, I think that’s that living sacrifice that Paul calls us to.

Learn more about our Master of Divinity program and how you can pursue your unique calling.

The post Unconventional Pastor: An Interview with Rachael Clinton appeared first on ������Ƶ of Theology & Psychology.

Many of you will be relocating to the Seattle area, leaving faith communities that have been a major part of your life and/or the life of your family. Some of you may be feeling overwhelmed at the thought of finding a new church home, while others might be excited for the opportunity to explore. Seattle sometimes gets talked about as an “un-churched” city, and this is simply not true. What is true is that Christianity does not dominate as the main religious or cultural expression like it does in other regions of the U.S. In many ways, that makes church life a bit more vibrant and authentic. You can rest assured that there are many amazing and deeply rooted faith communities in this city and the surrounding areas, representing a great diversity of Christian faith traditions (protestant, Catholic, evangelical, non-denominational, and new parish–oriented church plants).

When I moved to Seattle, I was coming out of the Southern Baptist tradition but didn’t feel as though it would be the right fit for me moving forward (the whole no women in leadership thing was conflicting with my calling, among some other things). I grew up Southern Baptist in the context of a large Roman Catholic family. I wanted to explore other denominations and expressions and discern which community might be a place I could plant. I visited mainline churches and charismatic churches and non-denominational churches and some that felt really similar to my upbringing. I eventually landed at Vineyard Community Church. While I’m grateful for where I landed, it was refreshing to experience so many different types of churches on my way to VCC.

If you are looking for a more traditional experience, hoping to be a part of an innovative church plant, or are longing to find somewhere in between, there are thriving faith communities ready to welcome you. While you can find larger churches that bring people from all over the city, Seattle also has several smaller churches oriented toward serving the neighborhoods and communities in which they are located. Keep in mind, in this city a thriving church can be as small as 35 or as large as 5,000.

Below is a list of local churches, many of which are faith communities that our students, staff, and faculty call home. Although it is not exhaustive, it should give you a good sense of church life in Seattle. Be encouraged and explore! May you be surprised by hope as you do.

Seattle Churches

• *
• *
• *
• (formerly The City Church)
• *
• *
• *

Greater Seattle Churches

Bellevue

• *

Bothell

Kirkland

• (formerly The City Church)

Lynnwood

Redmond

Renton

Shoreline

Woodinville

Tacoma

Kent

Everett

Federal Way

*Denotes ������Ƶ alum on staff.

The post Church Life in Seattle appeared first on ������Ƶ of Theology & Psychology.

I breathed myself to life, and so can you. My own recovery from the trauma of sexual repression drew me towards the healing medicine of yoga. I am a psychotherapist and a yoga teacher. My passion, obsession, and saving grace is embodiment—the experience of inhabiting the home of your body. Social forces and generational/personal trauma split the psyche into compartmentalization and dissociation, which inhibit us from fully inhabiting our own skin. I came into this work by following the golden thread of aliveness that vibrated inside of me whenever I stepped towards an act of embodiment.

My journey towards my profession and passion began by confronting my own pain of living in a deadened body.

“My journey towards my profession and passion began by confronting my own pain of living in a deadened body.”

As a girl I was steeped in an evangelical church that was emotionally and sexually repressed. I was taught to dissociate from my emotion and sexuality. Eager to perform for my community, I was one of the ‘good’ ones. My dissociative abilities grew stronger as they were reinforced and praised. I swallowed my emotions and wore my pledge of virginity until marriage like a badge of honor. I committed to these ideas with resolve, to the point of receiving a purity tattoo—a dove on my hip that I wouldn’t allow anyone to see until my wedding night.

As a child I was tirelessly praised for my goodness, my ability to follow all of the rules set before me. The only price I had to pay for this endless stream of praise was my unwavering compliance with the group norms of emotional and sexual repression. As long as I agreed that the impulses of my body were wrong and should be ignored at all costs, I was given power, respect, and trust from a group of people I deeply respected.

As a 3 on the Enneagram, “the performer,” my disposition lends me towards being preoccupied with how others see me. ‘Good’ became my identity, and my value was centered around how well I could perform to the expectations of those in authority around me. My obsession with blamelessness made me feel afraid to consider my own right to connection and desire.

It is painful to realize I was brainwashed out of connecting to my own sensuality. Over and over again I kissed my college boyfriend (who is now my incredible, gracious husband) while willing myself outside of my body and interrupting our connection if we got ‘too close.’ For years. For five years. That is too many years of not surrendering to the wisdom of our bodies. Our super power, being deeply present with each other, was shadowed by shame and secrecy. By the time we decided we had waited long enough to have sex, I had retreated so far from the felt experience of my body that I didn’t know how to enjoy it.

Dissociation is the psychological process of blocking out what an individual considers to be harmful. What is defined as ‘harmful’ within an individual is often the parts of self that may inhibit a sense of belonging to a particular community. I was taught that my body was bad and not to be trusted, so I spent the vast majority of my life ignoring what it was saying to me out of an ethical duty to be ‘good.’ I’m not the only one. The bodies of countless people growing up within Evangelical communities have been affected by the shameful rhetoric of purity culture.

The trauma of neglecting and shaming my body during vital years of sexual development caused a severe split between my mind and my body. We don’t learn how to be in our bodies unless we are taught how to follow sensation. In order to keep my purity pledge, I did everything in my power to sever myself from sensation, and in the process inadvertently sent the message to my brain that connection to my body was not to be trusted. My evil body tempted me into sexual sin—an age-old fable more concerned with power than with sex.

Yoga was the first place I learned how to inhabit my body intimately, in a way that wasn’t overtly sexual. Yoga was a neutral environment I could enter to learn how to de-thaw my body, without having to hold the emotional complexity of sexual shame that would often come up during sex. It has been through my own yoga practice that I’ve learned that there is ancient medicine in using breath and movement in order to bring bodies back to life. What has historically been my biggest weakness is turning into my biggest strength because my pain forced me to look so closely at my body.

“There is ancient medicine in using breath and movement in order to bring bodies back to life.”

While I was still dry humping Ben in church parking lots (#wheatonlyfe) in 2006, I attended a ‘stretching and breathing’ class (yoga, in disguise) that changed my life. My body, which I had spent so much time trying to separate from and control, was now being gently paid attention to. I learned how to use movement as prayer, and for the first time I began to see how being with my body was a worshipful experience. It made my heart burst wide open to pay attention to myself in this way. Each time I laid in savasana, the final resting pose at the end of a yoga class, I came into direct contact with the weirdness and goodness of my body, the pure delight of feeling my own aliveness. These magical experiences in my body drew me to enroll in a yoga teacher training the summer before I started class at ������Ƶ. Immersed in the world of body wisdom I began, piece by piece, to land into a body I wasn’t fully aware I had disowned.

After I graduated, I spent four years working at , a local eating disorder clinic that was my therapeutic boot camp. Working with clients with eating disorders is a minefield of body hatred and dissociation, and I needed to learn quickly how to help my clients tolerate being in bodies that felt deeply unsafe to inhabit. I voraciously read books on embodiment and somatic healing from trauma, and I realized as I read that I needed to heal myself. The deeper I dove into healing my relationship with my body, the more I could teach my students how to find islands of safety within their own skin.

Dissociation is a form of trauma that leaves the body frozen, numb, and unresponsive. When trauma and neglect happen, we need to vacate. It is a sweet gift that the body doesn’t allow us to come into full contact with the enormity of our pain when we aren’t safe enough to feel it. I see the body as a manifestation of the unconscious mind, and when we work explicitly with the physical body, we grow awareness to the most hidden parts of our psyche. Yoga is a way to slowly reintroduce ourselves to the disowned parts of ourselves. Using the tools of breath and focused awareness, we can gradually thaw the frozen, clenched parts of our bodies. Now in my private practice, I’m teaching my clients and yoga students how to reclaim the uncharted waters of their own bodies using meditation, yoga, and breathing practices.

It wasn’t until I began connecting to my body that I realized how deeply disconnected I had been my entire life. Even now, after spending the last decade working to integrate the experiences of my body, I’m more aware than ever about how much I still don’t know about this earth suit of mine. It is endlessly mysterious and mystical to discover the maps of intelligence that are encoded into our bodies. I’ll never arrive at a perfectly embodied or integrated place, but I have breathed myself into a new body. A more fluid, open, welcoming, and grounded body. A body that knows how to lean into care because of all those times she leaned into the earth in savasana and felt held.

The post Breathing Myself to Life: How Story Informs My Vocation appeared first on ������Ƶ of Theology & Psychology.