Moments like these bring varied thoughts and emotions for many in our community as we continue to find ways to labor toward justice and peace and the rebuilding of trust. Our collective healing is tied to being aware of systemic injustices, and then doing the hard work of listening, managing the threats felt within our bodies, and transforming the fears that continue to separate us from our neighbors.

May we be people of faith who know and do justice, love to extend mercy, and walk humbly with our God. Let us continue to pray for George Floyd鈥檚 family, for each other, for our nation, and for the family of Derek Chauvin. May our prayers be not only words, but grow hands and feet to serve in difficult times and in challenging places. May our cries for justice and reconciliation extend beyond social media and into action within our relationships and within the fabric of our communities.

The post Response to Derek Chauvin Trial Verdict appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

In these spaces of fear, we鈥檙e often less able to access our active practices of filtering our biases and choosing to act differently鈥攍eading to harm, most often of our Black and Brown community members. In the last few weeks in June, we鈥檝e seen anti-Asian assaults in the Ballard neighborhood of Seattle and white supremacist propaganda posted in Seattle鈥檚 Chinatown and International District. We鈥檝e watched in horror the high profile lynchings in the form of police and vigilante killings of Black folks in Minnesota, Georgia, Florida, Washington, and undoubtedly more places before this piece is published. We鈥檝e seen the less publicized police killing of Black first responder Breonna Taylor when police broke into her home in Louisville, KY. And we鈥檝e heard reports of the devastatingly disproportionate toll of Covid19 among the Navajo Nation. And undoubtedly, between when this is written and published, there will be more names of people harmed鈥攕ome we will learn and more will never be published because the events aren鈥檛 filmed.

While we鈥檙e stuck at home glued to our digital windows to the world, many of us may become more acutely aware of acts of violence that have been happening all along. Under our current load of fear and stress, these traumas each have their own particular impact, but they also have a cumulative impact on each of us鈥攁nd most of all on those who see your own faces reflected in these particular victims and who live under this every day.

And I am a white man working at 天美视频, where our mission is: 鈥渢o train people to be competent in the study of text, soul, and culture in order to serve God and neighbor through transforming relationships.鈥� In the past months, I鈥檝e sat in Zoom meetings with students, alumni, staff, and faculty of this majority-white聽institution, and I have heard story after story from people of color about the impact of this season of isolation and visible violence, as well as specific experiences of discrimination, violence, silence, and pain.

Racism is a primordial wound on the heart of our culture and it touches us all. It is a sin that cuts in so many directions鈥攙ictims, perpetrators, bystanders, and descendants. And as I seek to understand my role in all this, and my turn of repentance, to love God and my neighbors, I am drawn back into wisdom from the Biblical texts.

In the story of Israel, God set in place cities of refuge鈥攑laces where people could flee from reckless vengeance killings. These towns were also set aside as the homes of the Levites, the priestly clan. The Jewish Talmud offers deeper understanding about the teachings on these places of refuge. Requirements are outlined: these cannot be large cities or small towns, and they must have a water source. If there is no water source, a well or a canal must be dug. The roadways into these cities must be twice the standard width of the highways going in and out of the largest cities. And every intersection leading toward these cities must be clearly marked.

In short, it was never sufficient to name a place as a city of refuge. The lasting work had to be put in, in order for it to be a legitimate place of hospitality for those in danger of violence. As much as I long to call myself a person who is anti-racist, is so much more than that. This language from the Talmud changes the way that I hear the gospel message preached by John: 鈥淧repare the way of the Lord and make straight paths for him.鈥�

And it changes the way that I read Isaiah 40:3-5:

A voice of one calling:
鈥淚n the wilderness prepare
the way for the Lord;
make straight in the desert
a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be raised up,
every mountain and hill made low;
the rough ground shall become level,
the rugged places a plain.
And the glory of the Lord will be revealed,
and all people will see it together.
For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.鈥�

Last week, our community prayed this passage alongside . He gives voice to the ache and longing for justice present in this passage and in the Black community. As I listen to his voice I am reminded that there is no good news to the gospel of Jesus if it does not bring loving justice to our world.

In my own life as a white man, and in my work in 天美视频 community, it is not enough to be aware of violence. And it is not enough to name myself an ally. In order to credibly love my neighbors, I must join in the lament of my siblings in pain, and even more, we must together continue to do the mundane and invisible work of creating and maintaining access ways, and sources of life for Black, Brown and Native people in our communities. And as a white man, I must enter my own lament. My own source of life is cut off by racism when I do not engage in this justice work, where I myself am often the worker who joins late in the day.

In my particular work at 天美视频 this looks like grieving and strategizing with students; implementing and revisiting equity strategies as we distribute Covid19 benevolence funds; from the beginning, addressing racial and socioeconomic disparities as we lead workshops on self-care for ongoing trauma; and daily making space in our community rhythms of prayer to hold grief and explore our own work in justice building. It also means showing up in my own community鈥攄emanding justice and accountability for Stonechild Chiefstick, a Native man killed by police who have gone uncharged in my county last year, and for Bennie Branch and Manuel Ellis, both Black men killed by police in nearby Tacoma. And it means listening when my Black neighbor speaks about her fear for her teenager鈥檚 life, and doing work with our local police to ensure that this child is safe in our shared community.

None of these things give me or 天美视频 the right to label ourselves a place of refuge. Instead, they are some of the daily practices we engage relationally and, in so doing, are ourselves being transformed. We have the blessing of not being a monolith. And while we are a majority white learning community, we are also a multi-ethnic, multi-racial, and multicultural community that continues to be shaped and led by one another. To be a place of refuge, dialogue, and repair in our society, we must be engaged in this work as a daily spiritual practice, inviting our souls, our economics, our politics, and our relationships to be contoured to the Spirit of God at work in the world.

This past Sunday, Christians celebrated the feast of Pentecost. Humanity has always been in need of God鈥檚 flames uniting us with all people in love and justice. The fires across USAmerica are calling out for love and justice for Black bodies in our nation. I believe that the Spirit needs us to be people whose lives are marked by doing the work that creates justice and peace.

As a school, we can never really be a permanent city of refuge, but we can be a place along the way where people join with God and learn from one another about how to build such places together in our homes and congregations; nonprofits and friend groups; therapy offices and neighborhoods. As a white person, a huge part of my learning is listening and bearing wit(h)ness, and another huge part is consistently acting, speaking, and sharing in this blessed work, especially when society privileges me in such a way that I could choose to simply check out and reap the benefits handed to me because of my white skin.

This is important, holy work. And it is important work to talk about together. As wrong as it is to put up signposts pointing to places that are not actual refuge, it is also crucial to illuminate the pathways where work really is being done. This both opens us up for accountability and brings us into dialogue with those who have much to teach us. There is not a 鈥渞ight鈥� way for white folks to do this work and come out looking good. We must move into it making mistakes and repenting all along the way. Some may experience this as a deterrent, but for those who receive it as the blessing it is, it is a way forward into sharing the weighty blessing of Pentecost.

One of the gifts of working in a place where psychology and theology intersect, is that while therapeutic changes often happen confidentially behind closed doors, the world of communities of faith are rich with public symbols and places to both contain and display communal grief and repair. Here, in the work of racial justice, we need both of these together. We need deep, internal, and interpersonal work. And we need communal and symbolic actions that disrupt oppression and create structure for cultural change.

May we join with the Spirit to create spaces of refuge and repair in our neighborhoods and in our world.

The post Stewarding My Own Whiteness in the Work for Justice appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

Annie: 鈥淲hile I鈥檓 concerned about what you would think of as politics鈥攚hat would be in the political section of a newspaper鈥擨鈥檓 also thinking about the politics of being human, the politics of church, the relational dynamics between people and between groups. That鈥檚 kind of what I mean by political in the broader sense.鈥�

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

Much of Annie鈥檚 work can be connected to the category of spiritual darkness, which was the focus of her Integrative Project at 天美视频, 鈥淢aking a Home in the Dark.鈥� In our 2018 Integrative Project Symposium, Annie offered this insight into what draws her to working with spiritual darkness: 鈥淚 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鈥檓 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.鈥�

Annie: 鈥淲hen we recognize that we have put our faith in something like patriarchy, it doesn鈥檛 let us go easily. These periods of darkness, of feeling completely lost and at our wits鈥� end, both communally and individually鈥攊t forces us to give up hope in what we鈥檝e put our hope in. And that is this great gift that we can then decide we鈥檙e going to do something different now.鈥�

In an era of fragmented relationships鈥攁nd, therefore, fragmented politics鈥攚e are deeply grateful for the insightful, far-reaching conversations Annie is hosting. Here鈥檚 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鈥檚 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, (鈥�14). Shauna asked Lauren to record an excerpt for this episode, and here鈥檚 the full article from Feminist Studies in Religion:
• To be fair, Annie鈥檚 reference to is more tangential than thematic. But it really is a great film!
• Shauna references an episode from NPR鈥檚 Invisibilia podcast about the relationship between uncertainty and dogmatism, and what we do when we don鈥檛 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 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

This month on the Intersections blog, we are exploring the art of nurturing our identity and formation in a way that allows us to continue growing in wisdom, empathy, and clarity of calling. It is a challenge to open ourselves to the care and sustenance needed to sustain deep, meaningful service in the places of deep need all around us. And in order to open ourselves to care, we must also be able to identify the places of our identities that are still impacted and influenced by our histories of harm and internalized messages of shame.

In that vital, difficult work, we were deeply inspired by the research and insights offered by Gabes Torres, MA in Counseling Psychology student, MA in Theology & Culture alumna, and Program Assistant for The Allender Center, as she presented her Integrative Project in 2018. Gabes鈥檚 project, 鈥�Ang Mga Sugatang Kamay na Naghain sa Lamesa (The Scarred Hands that Set the Table)鈥擳he Violation of Hospitality: Consequences from Centuries of Colonization in the Philippines,鈥� wrestles with the painful scars that grow out of colonialism.

For this project, Gabes interviewed a Filipino woman who works in hospitality industries in the United States. Gabes describes the woman鈥檚 impulse toward subservience鈥攁 fear of saying no, challenging authority, or naming experiences of harm鈥攖hat is common among Filipino workers. Gabes argues that that subservience is a reflection of the manipulation and corrupt power dynamics at the heart of colonialism and imperialism.

鈥淭he irony here is in the fact that these events are taking place within the context of hospitality industries, and these reports violate the very meaning of hospitality,鈥� says Gabes. 鈥淏ecause the true practice of hospitality exists in the mutuality of responsibility and roles between host and guest, where there is a shared power, there is an equal value, acceptance, protection, service, and respect towards one another.鈥�

鈥淭he true practice of hospitality exists in the mutuality of responsibility and roles between host and guest.鈥�

To unpack the ongoing effects of colonization in Filipino culture, tradition, and even sense of self, Gabes says it is important to take a look at history and follow the narrative threads that are still very much at play today. But Gabes advises caution in doing so, since most of the dominant historical narratives propagate the belief that explorers and colonizers helped advance a 鈥減rimitive鈥� culture, rather than exposing the violence and irreversible harm brought by colonization. To meaningfully reflect on where we are today, we must be willing to tell the full, honest stories of where we have been.

鈥淣ot only do the artifacts of Spanish colonization and American imperialism spread out in language, in architecture, in our very names, but also in the ideas of the Filipinos, their ideas about themselves, and others, and their relationship to others,鈥� says Gabes. 鈥淚t is also very disturbing to realize that we do not need to be in North America to see the impact and pervasiveness of American exceptionalism and white supremacy.鈥�

Gabes argues that the end result of colonialism is an erasure of the self. Colonized people are taught to welcome and accommodate others at the expense of welcoming themselves as they are, and in the process the self is compromised and rejected. In response to this reality, Gabes ends her presentation with a letter that she wrote to her ancestors鈥攁 stunning, insightful work of art, and a profound assertion and celebration of self in the face of systemic harm.

The post The Violation of Hospitality appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

We鈥檙e reminded of the power of place every year when we host 鈥攁 gathering of hundreds of leaders and practitioners from around the world, grounded in the conviction that the nature of our service should be shaped not only by our individual identities and callings, but by the very particular stories of the places we serve. Dr. Dwight Friesen, Associate Professor of Practical Theology, is one of the organizers of Inhabit, and he helps equip 天美视频 students to explore the intersections between their stories, the story of God, and the story of the places they inhabit.

鈥淧art of my work here at 天美视频 is to attend to what it means to be located. We are not just souls, and we鈥檙e not just bodied souls. Our bodies are actually placed somewhere,鈥� says Dr. Friesen. 鈥淚n fact, I would say that one of the greatest teachers God gives us is the place where we are, the ecosystem that gives us life and invites us to attend to what our presence looks like, what our footprint is in the everyday stuff of life.鈥�

鈥淥ne of the greatest teachers God gives us is the place where we are.鈥�

The intersection of those threads鈥攜our story, God鈥檚 story, the story of your place鈥攊s where transformative relationships happen, and it鈥檚 where we are most able to step into the sort of wise, creative, and hospitable service that our world so desperately needs.

鈥淲hen we hide behind doctrine or ideology or even an 鈥榠ssue,鈥� it allows us to become almost adversarial toward those who do not hold the same view. When you stay located in place, however, all of a sudden those issues are not issues. Those issues are actually people, people with names who you are encountering. It takes it out of abstraction and into relationship. That鈥檚 what we try to do here at 天美视频.鈥�

We鈥檒l be diving into this April 26-27 at the Inhabit Conference, two days of inspired teaching, energizing stories, and thought-provoking workshops.

The post Place as Teacher appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

I鈥檝e never enjoyed gardening.

The thought of tending a plot of land is rife with childhood memories of aching knees and fingers, straining to feel the pull of the weed鈥檚 roots instead of the snap of the stem. As an adult, traveling in Poland, I signed up to stay at a purported organic farm, part of the WWOOF network (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms) where travelers exchange labor for room and board. Instead, I lodged at a rustic Airbnb with a few modest garden plots and painted bedrooms for four days straight. I stayed dry from the drizzling rain, sure, but I also stayed ignorant of how to garden. My hosts鈥� English was limited, and upon learning that I actually wanted to learn about plants, the patriarch of the home took me on a walking tour of the garden plots, politely pointing out various plants and saying their Polish names, all the while sipping on some home-brewed liquor, and then asked me, at the end, to repeat everything he had just said. Frustrated when I couldn鈥檛, he drove me to an agricultural museum on the outskirts of their village. While I enjoyed looking at rustic farm implements and dodging roaming turkeys, I still learned little about what to do, or how to feed myself from the earth. I left two days later, as my host鈥檚 drinking started earlier and earlier, and my reluctance to work any more reached its zenith. My desire to garden remained in Poland, dashed on the rusty implements of that agricultural museum.

But my thoughts about gardening have started to change as I鈥檓 learning there鈥檚 a lot more to it than growing food. Taking Triune God and Creation, a class on ecotheology from an ecofeminist perspective, in my last term at 天美视频, I鈥檝e been forced to confront my human-centric view of the world (anthropocentrism) and acknowledge the looming global catastrophes, warming oceans, shrinking glaciers, dying species, super storms, toxic pollution, humanitarian crises related to economic inequality, and the list goes on (all in my last term!). Ecofeminist thought stresses the contextual significance of each individual and the way that knowledge is informed principally by one鈥檚 experience, and scholars stress the interdependence of all life and the necessity of acting in right relationship with all of the natural world. Ecofeminists argue that exploitation of the land is inseparable from exploitation of people and that if there is going to be justice it needs to be for all. And I鈥檝e started to learn about these principles through one particular garden, the S.L.U.G.

St. Luke鈥檚 Urban Garden (S.L.U.G.) is adjacent to my residence鈥攖wo shotgun-style cottages on the property of in the Ballard neighborhood. The cottages have been my home for two years, and in that time I鈥檝e seen the comings and goings of local gardeners, some church parishioners, and other folks with a green thumb and a desire to grow their own food. I live on the property as a part of the Relatio program, a partnership between 天美视频 and St. Luke鈥檚. Produce from the SLUG is shared with the church鈥檚 meals ministry, Edible Hope, and the space is also a hangout spot for local residents and neighbors, both housed and unhoused. Along with the SLUG, St. Luke鈥檚 has an apiary on its roof and the largest rain garden in North Seattle, and lives out its ecumencial beliefs by renting space to The Bridge, a ministry of Quest Church, and the historic chapel to Pangea, a Brethren in Christ Church in the U.S.

Gardening sustains the community and brings people together in ways that are oriented to work and to social activities. It is both a concrete reality, supplying food, and a metaphor for a way of living that aims at a just, viable relationship with the earth and the surrounding community. Ecofeminist Sally McFague writes about metaphor as a bridge between knowing that is both symbolic and embodied. In this way, being a part of Relatio has helped me realize that the community I鈥檓 living in is living out the values and the ways of being that are needed to address the catastrophes at hand. Not only is the land and the earth respected, people are welcomed in and loved, regardless of their social status, gender, race, or sexual orientation. At St. Luke鈥檚 all bodies are considered good, and the way this is communicated is through the act of feeding, body and soul. As a part of my resident project I鈥檒l be hosting an art show featuring 天美视频 artists, an act that further feeds the soul.

鈥淎t St. Luke鈥檚 all bodies are considered good, and the way this is communicated is through the act of feeding, body and soul.鈥�

I鈥檓 still not at a place where I want to sink my hands in the dirt, plant seeds, wrestle with the hellish expanse of weeds. But I am more mindful, and grateful, for the opportunity to live in a community that is supportive of life, rejects hate, and actively works against oppression. Gardens are a space where life grows and where abundance can flourish in a way that acknowledges the interdependence of the biosphere on a local, personal level. This is a flourishing that isn鈥檛 at the expense of the other. And this flourishing is indeed more, an abundance that is personal, communal, and spiritual鈥攊n short, an embrace of the desire for more that is often directed to material aims. I think of the garden when I read the words of queer ecotheologian Whitney Bauman who writes, 鈥淲e ought not deny our desire for more, but channel those desires into using wealth to create a more ecologically viable and just world.鈥�¹

¹Bauman, Whitney A. 鈥淨ueer Values for a Queer Climate: Developing a Versatile Planetary Ethic.鈥� In Meaningful Flesh: Reflections on Religion and Nature for a Queer Planet, edited by Whitney A. Bauman, 103-123. Earth, Milky Way: Punctum Books, 2018.

We are currently accepting applications for Relatio.聽If you are interested in moving in at any point in the 2019-20 Academic Year, contact program director Kate Davis, kdavis@theseattleschool.edu.

The post The Ambivalent Gardener: Eco-theology, Community, and Flourishing in the Relatio Project appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

During this season of Lent, as we follow the story of Jesus in the wilderness, we鈥檝e been exploring the call to affirm humanity in ourselves and each other鈥攅ven in all of our hunger and wounding and brokenness. And we believe that affirming the dignity in humanity is, ultimately, an invitation to service; it鈥檚 a call to direct our lives and our work toward worshipping God through the healing and empowerment of individuals and communities, and through the dismantling of systems that seek to deny humanity in some.

That is the arc of pilgrimage: to journey into the wilderness, to be transformed, and to return to service. It鈥檚 also at the heart of our mission at 天美视频. Through transforming relationship and the competent study of text, soul, and culture, we train people to serve God and neighbor in the unique context of their identity and calling.

鈥淭hat is the arc of pilgrimage: to journey into the wilderness, to be transformed, and to return to service. It鈥檚 also at the heart of our mission at 天美视频.鈥�

These two movements鈥攊nward change and outward service鈥攁re inseparable. Our own transformation will be stifled if it is not directed toward service, just like our work in the world will burn out or fall flat if it is not grounded in the journey of transformation. So as we move through Lent and into the rest of April, we鈥檒l continue wrestling with the themes of pilgrimage and wilderness, turning the conversation more specifically to service and the call to serve God and neighbor.

We鈥檒l hear from alumni, faculty, staff, and students about their work in the world, and about how their ability to love God is inextricably tied up with their willingness to love others. We also hope to explore the deep need for imagination in how we approach calling and service. Because鈥攏o surprises here鈥攖he world is changing, and the problems we face today are not the same as they were before; our service should not look the same, either.

May the change and healing that we have found propel us to the change and healing of our world. May we continue to enter places of both deep brokenness and deep beauty. May we never stop innovating, dreaming, and scheming. And may the Spirit be with us as we commit to hard conversations and dare to confront the wicked problems that deface the image of God in humanity.

The post Serving God and Neighbor appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

https://vimeo.com/305151148

If you鈥檝e ever met Bob, you know that he is a man of apparent contradictions. He speaks with a calm gentleness, meaning you might miss the pointed fierceness of his indictments of oppressive powers. One moment he鈥檚 decrying the injustice of nationalistic capitalism, and the next he鈥檚 leading a charismatic prayer for healing.

But the more you get to know him, you realize these aren鈥檛 contradictions for Bob. His political and social convictions are intimately connected to and informed by his vibrant faith in a God who is near and active in human affairs, especially in places of injustice and marginalization. It wasn鈥檛 always this way, though. In the post-9/11 atmosphere of fear and distrust of outsiders, Bob often felt like his faith had nothing to offer those who most needed good news. He was intrigued by Christians who spoke of miracles and prayed for healing, but he knew that those more charismatic circles were so often connected with harmful conservative and nationalist politics. The chasm between Christianity and social justice felt devastatingly vast.

鈥淭he evangelical and charismatic churches would be promoting the Reagan and Bush administrations鈥� policies, always dismissing everything we had to say,鈥� says Bob. 鈥淲e鈥檇 speak in churches and people would just oppose us. So we were getting more and more frustrated and feeling quite antagonistic toward the United States.鈥�

Bob鈥檚 journey of working to reconcile that divide is chronicled in this documentary from the , a short film series 鈥渆xploring the crossroads of God鈥檚 presence in our lives and justice on the earth.鈥� The film offers an overview of Bob鈥檚 story, documenting the progression of his faith, his encounters with both liberation theology and the charismatic movement, and his work in Washington and around the world.

鈥淭he places of deepest brokenness and marginalization everywhere in the world require a united body of Christ.鈥�

This is a beautiful, compelling film, and it reminds us that a meaningful pilgrimage is not just about leaving home embark on something new; there is, eventually, a return to service. For Bob and Gracie Ekblad, that meant returning to the United States to work within the Church instead of outside it, helping to foster reconciliation in places that had been divided for too long.

鈥淚n our ministry, God is doing a work where word鈥攔eading Scriptures for good news at the margins鈥攕pirit鈥攖he gifts of the Holy Spirit, moving in the power of the Holy Spirit鈥攁nd street鈥攋ustice, advocacy, peacemaking, confronting the powers, standing with the downtrodden鈥攖hose three pieces we feel called to champion together, in a united way,鈥� says Bob. 鈥淲e see that the places of deepest brokenness and marginalization everywhere in the world require a united body of Christ. So we feel called to a ministry of reconciliation, and there鈥檚 a need for repentance on lots of fronts. We needed to repent of all of our judgements, harsh judgements against evangelicals and charismatics. And churches that endorse the status quo need to repent of that and be about Jesus and the kingdom of God. Without that happening, we鈥檙e going to see increasing division and ineffective ministry, because the body of Christ isn鈥檛 going to be trusted around the world.鈥�

Our thanks to filmmaker Fred Sprinkle and the Wind Vane Project for helping tell Bob鈥檚 story, and for offering a compelling picture of a vibrant, active faith that does not shy away from the darkest injustices in our world. You can learn more about their project , and more about Bob and Gracie Ekblad and their work .

The post Liberating Fire: A Short Film with Dr. Bob Ekblad appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

This post is part of our conversation about the Church鈥檚 relationship to sexuality and sexual orientation. You can also read Kate Davis鈥檚 hope-filled reminder that the body of Christ, though wounded, is not yet broken; Jennifer Fernandez鈥檚 essay about the dangers of conflating Church with Christianity; and Dr. Derek McNeil鈥檚 reflection about global complexity and the pitfalls of ethnocentric theology.

Scrolling through my Facebook feed in the wake of the UMC special session felt like a 21st century experience of attending a public mourning. As a gay Christian man, with many friends who identify both as followers of Christ and members of the LGBTQ+ community, my feed echoed voices of lament. These voices represented numerous denominations, experiences, and political views, but shared a felt sense of a very familiar pain.

One post stood out to me in particular. In an incredibly honest, understated way it mentioned how unnerving it is to have one of the most personal parts of your life turned into a motion to be voted on by people who don鈥檛 know you at all. Something about the straightforwardness of this statement struck me.

In the days since, I have watched voices on every side of the spectrum abandon dialogue and return to the place they feel most safe. For some this is a highly politicized place with high stone walls, and for others it is a place of abstract theology and equally high walls. I understand this response, and I want to leave people the space they need to find safety in the way that makes sense for them.

鈥淚 have watched voices on every side of spectrum abandon dialogue and return to the place they feel most safe.鈥�

For me though, with three years of a graduate education built on the belief in a God who chooses to be present in my story and with me in my pain, I feel a need to simply remain鈥攖o ask that regardless of where we find ourselves, we extend witness to the pain of the communities personally impacted in recent weeks.

I鈥檓 tired. I鈥檓 sad. I鈥檝e carried unspoken weight for my whole life, stayed awake into many sleepless nights, prayed even when I didn鈥檛 know what to say. I鈥檝e wrestled with scripture, my community, and my own heart. I鈥檝e felt the intense tension caused in pitting my emotional and psychological health against the question of what I needed to do to be loved by God. At every turn, I鈥檝e felt the shift in the conversation, the point at which the person looking in my face is no longer seeing me, no longer hearing my story, but instead has lifted away to the far less human place of debating ideas.

We all have a story. We all have pain and trauma, and we know the loss of Holy Saturday. In this way we are more similar than we are different. As you think about the LGBTQ+ people in your life, please start from this place with them. Please create space for their stories and their pain, even as I pray that space has been created for you here at 天美视频 and The Allender Center. For the moment, please come be with me. Listen to me. Bring your pain, and hold me in mine. If the Body of Christ means anything, it must mean that I need you now, and that you will continue to need me.

In the hope of fostering faithful dialogue that understands narrative, wrestles with intersections, resists reactivity, and fosters radical hospitality, we seek to feature work from a wide range of backgrounds and perspectives. Therefore the opinions expressed on the Intersections blog are those of the authors and do not purport to reflect an official statement regarding the views or opinions of 天美视频. You can read more on the Intersections landing page.

The post The Urgent Humanity of Dialogue appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

To continue the conversation, you can also read Elliot Huemann鈥檚 vital plea that the stories and pain of LGBTQ+ Christians be heard honestly, Jennifer Fernandez鈥檚 thought-provoking reflection on the dangers of conflating the Church and Christianity, and Kate Davis鈥檚 hope-filled reminder that even when the body of Christ is wounded, it is not broken and it is not without hope.

In the wake of the UMC vote on Human Sexuality, I鈥檝e become increasingly concerned that we are losing the capacity to see relationally and to hear each other beyond social categories. I have noticed a familiar tendency, in what started as an international vote concerning a global denomination is turned into a particularly American discussion鈥攗niversalizing themes and inflections that are firmly located in our national political, religious, and social discourse. This shortchanges our understanding of the complexity of our human discourse and limits our ability to listen deeply.

To raise this point is not to intellectually diminish the real rejection and pain felt across the UMC denomination. The voices in this discourse matter, and I pray that we continue listening to the stories and honor the tears of those who have felt harmed and isolated by this vote, who have experienced the last few weeks as the deepening of an old wound. And may we also remember that there are voices鈥攂eyond and within our borders鈥攚ho do not easily fall into the familiar categories and talking points of our national discourse. This, it seems to me, is the complexity of the global conversation; even through our wounds, can we see those who have also been wounded? A relational hermeneutic invites us to cross ethnic, economic, gendered, and political boundaries to consider the contextual concerns of those outside the boundaries of our discourse.

鈥淓ven through our wounds, can we see those who have also been wounded?鈥�

The vote in late February was relatively close鈥�. Forty-three percent of those voting were international delegates, primarily from African nations, a majority of whom joined a coalition of conservative American delegates in voting for the Traditional Plan. This was very much a vote of global representatives, and the conversation around it is, in some ways, a microcosm of America鈥檚 present and historic relationship with the other countries represented.

To be clear鈥攖here are no easy, tidy takeaways from this vote, from the centuries-old dynamics that led up to it, or from the reactions and conversations in the wake of it. But perhaps that is, in itself, a meaningful reminder: in our discussions, responses, sermons, and even in our grief, may we allow room for the complexity and nuance that is asked of us to live as the global body of Christ.

My hope for 天美视频, and for the Church in America, is that we follow Jesus by continuing to wade into that complexity without resorting to caricatures or escaping to easy, familiar answers. May we be a place that struggles, a place that is willing to speak truth to systems of power that have caused harm鈥攍istening to and amplifying the voices of those who have been harmed, while also asking hard questions of ourselves and each other about the structures that undergird those systems.

As we continue unraveling this thread, it becomes clear to me that our engagement of the discourse following this vote cannot be separated from our ongoing engagement of cultural supremacy, and the intersections of whiteness, patriarchy, and colonialism. Because sometimes white supremacy is expressed through the violent racism of pointed robes and burning crosses, and sometimes it looks more like the implicit assumption that 鈥減rogressives鈥� in America are more advanced and are waiting for the rest of the world to catch up鈥攐r the more traditionalist assumption that the only civil or functional civilizations are of European descent. No matter how it is expressed, an assumption of supremacy disrupts our capacity to see relationally.

No matter how it is expressed, an assumption of supremacy disrupts our capacity to see relationally.

This means we must resist a posture that suggests the international Church鈥攑articularly churches in Africa鈥攊s too 鈥減rimitive鈥� in its social evolution, still behind the progress of the Church in the United States. And we must question the narrative that says delegates from African nations only voted a certain way because they ascribe to the theology exported to them by colonialist missionary practices. While it is true that the conflation of colonialism and mission is a crucial part of our shared history, that argument all too easily denies agency to other nations, denies that their own contexts, traditions, social mores, and histories also inform how they speak in these global conversations.

If you haven鈥檛 noticed yet, there are more questions implied in this essay than there are answers. That might not be a satisfying conclusion, but I do not believe we can arrive at meaningful answers without first sitting in the painful tension of these questions, in all of their history and nuance and complexity. And I don鈥檛 know how we do that as a global Church without falling into old patterns or reenacting old wounds鈥攐r if we can do that, in our present context. But I do know that a relational hermeneutic means there are certain things we cannot work on from a distance, and I know that we can turn toward each other now at a local, relational level. That is my prayer: that we would turn toward relationship in times of unrest and division, when it can be tempting to veer toward isolation over connection, or toward resistance without community.

And so I say again: May we be a place that struggles. May we listen to the cries of our LGBTQ siblings whose pain feels raw and urgent after this vote and the conversations in its wake. May we listen to the Church beyond our borders when they say that the Jesus they believe in looks different than what we鈥檙e asking of them. May we listen to each other, to the questions and stories that are too often silenced. And may we listen, all of us, to the voice of the Spirit that continues to call us together as the local, global body of Christ.

In the hope of fostering faithful dialogue that understands narrative, wrestles with intersections, resists reactivity, and fosters radical hospitality, we seek to feature work from a wide range of backgrounds and perspectives. Therefore the opinions expressed on the Intersections blog are those of the authors and do not purport to reflect an official statement regarding the views or opinions of 天美视频. You can read more on the Intersections landing page.

The post A Call to Discourse appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.