There are very few historical individuals who I find more inspirational than Martin Luther King. It isn’t just that his words are some of western Christianity’s most spiritually potent, it’s that he was more than a man of words. He was on a powerful and incredibly articulated mission—one he was willing to die for.

When it became unavoidable, his message shifted towards the war in Vietnam. As always, his words were consistent and honest. And because of his criticism of Vietnam, his support in the press and the government began to erode.

As Ferguson, Eric Garner, and the regular use of our military in the middle east reveals, MLK’s words are still so relevant. We still have a long way to go.

My 10 favorite lesser-known MLK quotes:

1. “The great majority of Americans are suspended between these opposing attitudes. They are uneasy with injustice but unwilling yet to pay a significant price to eradicate it.”

2. “There’s something strangely inconsistent about a nation and a press that will praise you when you say, ‘Be non-violent toward Jim Clark,’ but will curse and damn you when you say, ‘Be non-violent toward little brown Vietnamese children.’

3.“The Western arrogance of feeling that it has everything to teach others and nothing to learn from them is not just. A true revolution of values will lay hands on the world order and say of war, ‘This way of settling differences is not just.’ This business of burning human beings with napalm, of filling our nation’s homes with orphans and widows, of injecting poisonous drugs of hate into the veins of peoples normally humane, of sending men home from dark and bloody battlefields physically handicapped and psychologically deranged, cannot be reconciled with wisdom, justice, and love. A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death.”

4. “I am disappointed with America. And there can be no great disappointment where there is not great love. I am disappointed with our failure to deal positively and forthrightly with the triple
evils of racism, economic exploitation, and militarism. We are presently moving down a dead-end road that can lead to national disaster. America has strayed to the far country of racism and militarism.”

5. “Moreover, I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states. I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial “outside agitator” idea. Anyone who lives inside the United States can never be considered an outsider anywhere within its bounds.”

6. “If I have said anything in this letter that overstates the truth and indicates an unreasonable impatience, I beg you to forgive me. If I have said anything that understates the truth and indicates my having a patience that allows me to settle for anything less than brotherhood, I beg God to forgive me.”

7. “So the question is not whether we will be extremists, but what kind of extremists we will be. Will we be extremists for hate or for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice or for the extension of justice? In that dramatic scene on Calvary’s hill three men were crucified. We must never forget that all three were crucified for the same crime—the crime of extremism. Two were extremists for immorality, and thus fell below their environment. The other, Jesus Christ, was an extremist for love, truth and goodness, and thereby rose above his environment. Perhaps the South, the nation and the world are in dire need of creative extremists.”

8. The Negro has many pent up resentments and latent frustrations, and he must release them. So let him march; let him make prayer pilgrimages to the city hall; let him go on freedom rides -and try to understand why he must do so. If his repressed emotions are not released in nonviolent ways, they will seek expression through violence; this is not a threat but a fact of history. So I have not said to my people: “Get rid of your discontent.” Rather, I have tried to say that this normal and healthy discontent can be channeled into the creative outlet of nonviolent direct action. And now this approach is being termed extremist.

9. “Many of the ugly pages of American history have been obscured and forgotten. A society is always eager to cover misdeeds with a cloak of forgetfulness, but no society can fully repress an ugly past when the ravages persist into the present. America owes a debt of justice which it has only begun to pay. If it loses the will to finish or slackens in its determination, history will recall its crimes and the country that would be great will lack the most indispensable element of greatness — justice.”

10. “We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people.”

The post My 10 Favorite Lesser-Known Martin Luther King Quotes appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

It was the last and final interview. I’d sat through two discussions with this women already, and I knew that, not only was she going to be an incredible fit in the company, she was going to be an unbelievable asset to my team. As I was sure she would, she nailed the interview.

I thanked and escorted her out, and came back into the room to debrief. I was completely flabbergasted when the first words out of his mouth where, “Does she always dress so provocatively?” Her outfit was, in my estimation, professional and complimentary. But depending how the top fell, there was the slightest bit of cleavage. I was surprised that he saw it that way . . . I hadn’t.

As I stammered out a response I don’t even remember, I thought, “If she could hear this conversation, she’d be completely crushed and demoralized.”

The threat of ‘Christian cleavage’

There was a bit of outrage last week when a prominent Christian blogger published a post entitled The Problem with Christian Cleavage. He has since pulled it, edited it, and republished it with a different title, . . . and then yanked it again.

It isn’t my intention to beat up the author; I’m sure he was probably surprised at the response. I mean, he was only saying the same stuff that evangelical youth groups have heard for years. It really offered no new thoughts or interesting perspectives.

The gist of the admonishment goes like this:

• A man is a visual animal
• If he can see the wrong kind of flesh on a woman he has sexual thoughts
• Women are responsible to dress in a way that doesn’t “cause them to stumble”

It’s one of those teachings we’ve heard so often, and it comes so replete with Scripture, that we don’t really question it. But is it really biblical?

Are men simply beasts?

For the sake of argument, let’s assume that everything this teaching says about men and women is true. Men are naturally wired to see and respond sexually to women and are also driven by a need to possess and subdue the objects of their desire.

Do women bear the responsibility to adjust their behavior in order to help them? Many would give an emphatic, “YES! They should never give men a reason to stumble.” Seems reasonable, right? Women throughout history have carried the weight of that belief. It’s not just Some forms of Islam that make women wear burkas; Christianity has a history of many types of modesty teachings aimed at women: no makeup, hair must be up, you can only wear dresses, and skirts must match a prescribed length.

Now, I am in no way saying that we are not responsible for each other. If you’re an alcoholic, I definitely would not want to do things that would contribute to your addiction. But should it be a teaching of the church that God expects half the population to limit their freedom for the sake of people struggling with naturally tendencies?

Still some would say yes, but let me tell you why I find that difficult to swallow.

There is no standard that even makes sense

Human sexuality is a weird thing, and there’s simply no telling what is going to send someone into a dither. The author of the cleavage post makes this argument quite well when he says, “The reality is that men are visual creatures who can see a woman’s kneecap and get revved up.” [It’s interesting that this sentence reduces men to creatures—I think that this reductive aspect of this teaching that should annoy men more than it seems to.]

And this may sound silly, but what if you’re a guy who gets turned on by a modestly dressed female? It is, quite literally, a no-win situation.

The problem with this teaching is that it helps reinforce the idea that women are responsible for what goes on in the mind of men and that their wardrobe (and not the self control of a man) can be a contributing factor in a sexual assault.

Looking on women with lust

One of the verses that drives this teaching is when Jesus says, “but I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” (Matt. 5:28)

The interpretation basically goes like this: If I see a woman and have a sexual thought I have already sinned, and I might as well commit adultery with her. It’s the exact same thing. Right!? But is that what Jesus is really teaching here?

I think that this breaks down at the point where we teach men that every moment their mind flits into a sexual thought, they have committed a grave sin. I would say that a momentary sexual thought is not lust. Some translations translate Jesus’ words “ . . .everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery . . .”

You might walk by a bank and think, “I wonder what it would be like to rob a bank.” You have not necessarily done anything wrong. You haven’t necessarily committed a heist in your mind.

Jesus calls us to be responsible for our lives with this hugely hyperbolic teaching, “If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away. . .” (Matt. 5:29–30) Whose responsibility does it seem like God places the weight of our purity on? Someone else? Or us as the owner and operators of our minds?

I have had some huge failures in this area, and they have all been lost at that moment of choice to indulge and should never be laid at the feet of any one else. I can’t imagine ever standing before God and saying, “I did what I could, but, you know how it is—tank top.” It’s really the same buck-passing argument that Adam tried to pull on God in the garden, “The woman you made me gave me the fruit and I ate.” It’s just now, “That women wore yoga pants, and I lusted.”

Contributing to the problem

I have raised a wonderful, modest daughter. I didn’t do it by laying the responsibility for the bad thoughts of half the population on her. I did it by reaffirming to her that she is responsible for how she presents herself and how the decisions we all make communicates to others who we are and what we value. . . and then I trusted her.

The church’s teaching in many way reinforces some of these fears. We tell both men and women that:

• Men can’t be responsible for their behavior. This seems like it ramps up the distrust and disharmony between the genders. And, on a scarier note, it offers a way out to men to act out, “Hey, I can’t control myself. I am a victim of my drives.” One has to wonder if we have not helped create this problem by constantly reinforcing it.
• There’s something shameful about women’s bodies. No one would say that this is what they’re trying to communicate, but it is. We tell women that they need to be careful to cover up their bodies because their bodies lead men to think bad things. We’ve shamed women from even being able to feed their children in public—the most natural and beautiful act in the world.
• Sexuality is the most important issue in the world.  I sincerely think we contribute to the problem of sexualizing our children by the constant harping on it. We help infuse sexuality with this allure and mystery creating a mystique that contributes to the problem instead of fixing it. We tell boys that all they think about is sin. We mistakenly communicate to them that if they think it, they might as well do it. We tell women that they’re sexuality is a secret power they wield over boys.
  It’s not that we need to hide it or ignore it. It’s that there are ways we can deal with sexuality that doesn’t stigmatize it and inadvertently make it the issue we’re trying to avoid. It’s like we’re constantly saying, “Don’t think about sex. Don’t think about sex. You want to look at women as sexual beings . . . you want to but don’t.” The whole time we’re working with the culture to create stigma surrounding sex.

Men, maybe the issue isn’t so much about “Christian cleavage” (whatever that is). In my experience, so many ills could be avoided if we were to “treat younger women like sisters, with absolute purity . . . ”(1 Tim. 5:2). That seems like the best possible scenario.

The post “Christian Cleavage” Probably Isn’t the Problem appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

Never read the comments. This is a lesson I know, but always seem to forget.

I had a blog post about modesty culture take off this week and I just couldn’t stop reading the comments.

Here are some of my favorite comments (and the genders from whence they sprung):

• “‘Stop telling me how to dress!’ was uttered by no woman born of the Spirit and the word.”—Man
• “Any woman showing cleavage knows what she is doing and will answer to God if she causes a brother to stumble. Don’t be stupid and deny culpability just to line up with sinful standards of society.”—Man
• “Please, Mr. Bradley, use something that makes you seem reasonable and credible. Your argument in this article has little to no Biblical validity. Relevant is still Christian, right?”—Man
• “I think it’s hilarious when supposedly happily married women dress for attention from any man that will look.”—Woman
• “Cleavage is definitely a sin.”—Man
• “Hey guys let stick socks in our pants to make our bulge even look bigger. And pump our muscles to make them look bigger, then let’s call woman pervs for looking. Since it’s ok for them to wear push up bras and leggings.”—Man
• “Jesus said to clothe the naked. This includes yourselves, ladies.”—Man
• “When Christian women are asserting their right to make plain their bodies in public then the culture wars are over—lost forever.”—Man

There were many—men and women—who disagreed with me in more respectful tones but, as a dear girlfriend of mine said, “For some reason, a man telling other men to follow their own convictions and allow women to follow theirs is really bringing out the misogyny.” It really seemed to be the case.

The gist of my post was simple: Maybe men should stop laying the onus of their purity on women and demanding that they dress in a specific fashion. It’s interesting that the immediate response of detractors tended to be a sarcastic: “Yeah, we should get rid of all our standards,” “We should just let women walk around naked,” or “It goes both ways, women have responsibilities too!”

Does God exist or not?

I wonder why we work so hard to convince the world that God exists, and then act like he doesn’t. If there’s a God, don’t you think he has the ability to guide and convict women? Or has God deputized us to enforce his standards upon each other?

I didn’t see one comment that was anti-modesty. The thing that’s silly is that no one seems to disagree about the value of modesty. The whole discussion is about how the conversation is framed, who gets to set the standard, and whether it’s appropriate for men to make women responsible for their godliness.

One critic told me that “We have a biblical mandate to give up our freedoms for the sake of each other,” quoting Gal. 5:17 he went on, “For the flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh. They are in conflict with each other, so that you are not to do whatever you want.”

But his “gotcha” verse is exactly right; the Gospel begins with freedom—real freedom. God gives us this liberty in the Gospel and asks us to willingly give up some of that independence on behalf of others. What completely sucks is how we all have opinions about what freedoms others should be giving up. Is the freedom of the gospel really freedom if I can tell you how you should live it out?

What’s baffling to me is the response men have given me when I encourage them to quit demanding that women cater to their weaknesses. “Great, I guess we’ll just let them display their bodies in public.” I mean, I seriously don’t get it. What are you even talking about? Are those the two choices? Is the condescension of men the dam God’s using to stop the tide of female godlessness from breaking out?

Limit your freedom so I won’t stumble!!!

One critic had this to tell me, “Obviously you aren’t that familiar with your Bible, because if you were you’d know that it says, ‘But take care that this right of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak.’ (1 Cor. 8:9)” Of course this wasn’t the only person to suggest that this verse proved that I had a screw loose.

The context of this passage, as you probably know, is meat sacrificed to idols. Paul is answering the question of whether it’s wrong for believers to eat meat offered to other gods? He assures us it’s not wrong—the other gods aren’t even real. So he begins this discussion by reinforcing our freedom. You’ll be happy to know that we can totally eat meat sacrificed to idols.

It doesn’t make sense to me for guys to invoke this passage in an effort to tell women what not to wear and here’s why:

The nature of the issue Paul’s talking about includes some ambiguity. “Can I eat meat sacrificed to foreign gods or not? I feel like I shouldn’t but I saw other Christians doing it, so I thought maybe it was okay and I did, too. But afterwards I felt really, really guilty.” There’s uncertainty here and this uncertainty, when combined with the liberty of others, puts the believer in a place where they’re not necessarily acting in accordance with their faith.

This is not what we’re talking about with modesty. There is no ambiguity about whether we need to take every thought captive, treat women as sisters, deal severely with our lust, etc. We can never say, “I felt like lust was wrong, but then I saw some woman’s shoulders and then I felt it was alright again and lived outside of the conviction of my conscience.”

There’s a huge difference between stumbling (doing something that doesn’t spring from faith) and just being disobedient (doing something you know is wrong). There’s probably a stronger case for women using this passage with each other when discussing their clothing convictions than there is for a guy telling women what they should, and should not, wear.

Just to reiterate . . . THIS PASSAGE IS NOT ABOUT BEING TEMPTED INTO DOING WHAT YOU KNOW IS WRONG. It’s about doing what you’re not entirely convinced is right.

We shouldn’t use Scripture to manipulate

One of my big struggles with this passage is how easy it is to invoke as a way to control the behavior of others. Remember, Paul calls the person who’s afraid to eat sacrificed meat the weaker brother. They’re the weaker brother because they lack the faith to see that other gods are imaginary. They lack the faith to live in the freedom that is theirs.

What’s dangerous is how the weaker brother can whip this passage out anytime they want to. R-rated movies. Make-up. Alcohol. Bikinis. I don’t think the eighth chapter of 1 Corinthians was intended by Paul to be a tool to undermine the freedom of others. If the weaker brother can just wave 1 Corinthians whenever they want and undermine our liberty, are we really free? The passage isn’t about the weaker brother saying, “I have a conviction about this, therefore you have to as well—or else I will sin and it will be all your fault.”

The key to 1 Corinthians 8 still lies with the each of us being close enough to God to hear his prompting to sacrifice some of our liberty for those in our midst. But like so many issues in Christianity, it comes down to believing that God truly exists and is moving in the lives of those who love him.

The idea that if I don’t dictate what others should or shouldn’t do means that they’ll do wrong is absurd. It’s the most pessimistic view of people, the gospel, and God’s influence that I can possibly imagine.

The post Reasoning with My Critics in the Cleavage Wars appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

Jesus spoke pretty strong words about prayer,

“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”—Matthew 6:5–6

Is Jesus saying, as some have suggested, that it’s wrong to pray in corporate settings? I don’t think so. This isn’t about where it’s appropriate to pray as much as it’s a warning to watch our motivations. There’s always a temptation to turn faith into theater.

Once we enter into a community of faith (whether that community is a church, social media platform, or any other place where believers congregate), it becomes too easy to impress others with practices that should be sacred. We’re lauded for knowing the most Scripture, memorizing the most verses, sacrificing more than anyone, praying the longest, displaying the most “fruits of the spirit,” etc.

Although we’re sincere, there’s a constant struggle that—even in our most sincere desire to please God—we will develop habits that undermine the effectiveness of our disciplines. Like self-serving Pharisees, if we’re not vigilant, prideful behaviors will sneak into our most sacred spaces and set up shop.

Jesus, in trademark hyperbole, is saying that it’s better commit to a solitary prayer life than run the risk of praying prayers that are completely ineffective (in the same way that it’s better to lose your hand than to consistently give in to temptation—Mt. 5:30). I don’t think he’s instructing us to only pray in solitude, but he is encouraging us to value prayer as an end in itself rather than as a way to impress those around us.

With that in mind, here are a couple odd things that we tend to do in corporate prayer. Are all of them self-serving? Maybe not. But I am going to be honest with you; they often are when I do them.

1. Focusing all your mental energy on what you’re going to say

Imagine: you’re sitting in a circle and closing up a gathering with prayer. The prayer is travelling around the circle and there are three people left before it gets to you. But you haven’t heard one thing that anyone’s said. Why? Because all you’re thinking about is what you’re going to say when it’s your turn.

You definitely don’t want to say anything that’s going to come off as simplistic and silly, right? You want to pray powerful, meaningful prayers that will get the people around you muttering “amens.”

I struggle not to do this because I’m always tempted to use prayer as an opportunity to impress those around me.

It’s kind of like when I’m standing in the checkout line at the grocery store and something strikes me funny, so I make my ever-so-witty comment to my wife and/or kids loud enough for everyone to hear me. It annoys my family so much because they know that I’m only using them as a foil to impress others with my quick wit. I can’t imagine how annoying it has to be to God when we use prayer as an opportunity to do a similar thing.

Obviously you want to give what you’re going to say some thought, but be careful that you’re not just putting on a show.

2. Passive-aggressively praying for someone else’s benefit

Ugh, Becky . . . you know that she went out to see Fifty Shades of Grey last night, and you’re really ticked about it. It’s about time she was convicted for her rotten morals—and this is your chance. When it gets to be your turn to pray, you clear your throat and start praying (loud enough for her to hear):

“Dear Lord, you want us to be ‘in the world and not of it.’ Help us to make wise choices with how we spend our time and how we spend our money. Help us not to entertain ourselves by setting our eyes on the kind of sin you came to die for . . .”*

If that doesn’t convict crummy ole Becky, nothing will.

Except prayer isn’t an opportunity for your veiled sermonettes (not to mention it’s incredibly immature to use this tactic to correct people).

*This kind of prayer also works to offer political commentary, complain about the food at potlucks, and more!

3. Showing off your vast knowledge of Scripture

What if you could pray really impressive prayers and show off how much of the Bible you know at one time!? Well, you can (although you probably shouldn’t)!

Have you ever listened to a prayer where the person keeps quoting Scripture to God? “Lord, you say in your word . . .” If they’re really ambitious they’ll even include the verse (just in case God needs to look it up). “Father, you say in 1 Corinthians 3:6 that . . .”

I once heard a guy, and I’m not exaggerating, quote upwards of 17 verses in one prayer. IT WAS AMAZING! I kept imaging God listening like, “Man, I am definitely answering this guy’s prayers. Look how many verses he knows!”

Seriously, who are you doing that for? Now, I’m not suggesting that it’s never appropriate to quote Scripture in prayer. There are times when I will remind God that I am resting on a particular promise or I’ll even try and twist his arm a little by reminding him of something he seems to have forgotten.

But you have to be really careful because it’s easy to mistreat Scripture when you’re looking for prayer kudos.

Bonus:

Here are a couple bonus habits that, although they’re probably not done for attention, I kind of find them comical anyway:

a. Repeating “Lord,” “Jesus,” “Father” ad nauseam

Need a second to pause and gather your thoughts? Just say “Lord.” It’s the holy version of “um.” Honestly, I can never figure out how this one happens:

“Jesus, please be with the college group on their mission, dear Lord. And help Antonio to feel better, Lord, so that he can drive the van, Lord, and help Jennifer find her passport, Lord. Also, Father God, help us raise the rest of the funds we need for the trip, Lord.”

Strange right? You should try doing that in your next conversation. Just keep dropping the person’s name randomly—for no reason. I bet they love it.

b. Getting all old-timey on Jehovah

This is a classic that’s particular to the older people in our congregations (although I’ve seen my share of peers do it, too). It’s when you assume that the creator of the universe only speaks in King James.

“Lord, thou art a great and holy God, and we cometh before thee today and beseech thee for . . .”

Leave me a comment and tell me what interesting or questionable prayer habits I’ve missed!

The post 3 Terrible Prayer Habits We Should Reconsider appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

Like the Sirens that tempted Jason and his Argonauts, the call of modern Christian “radicals” to give, do, or sacrifice more has beguiled many devoted, impressionable believers into the rocks.

In Runaway Radical, Amy and Jonathan Hollingsworth weild a megaphone in the wilderness encouraging us to build a faith on something more profound than guilt and obligation. Call me jaded, but I generally don’t get too enthusiastic about books, but, as one often driven by shame, it was a strong, powerful tonic.

I wrote a post after reading Radical entitled Runaway Radical: When Idealism Meets Reality and then interviewed the authors in Picking Up the Pieces: An Interview with Runaway Radical’s Amy and Jonathan Hollingsworth. (I encourage you to read this interview, it’s really profound).

Now that it’s been released, I want to give three of you an opportunity to win this powerful, heartrending, and hopeful book! There are multiple ways to enter below—and you can enter every day!

The giveaway ends on March 6, 2015.

Here’s some of the awesome press this book is getting:

• “This beautifully transparent book . . . is a must read for all Christians who want to “make a difference.”—Boz Tchividjian
  
• “ In the end, I did not only grieve the abuse Jonathan experienced, both abroad and at the hands of the church when he returned home, but I was grieved that the grace-filled, communal, ‘light yoke’ of true radical obedience suffers because the church allows these kinds of events to be perpetuated.”—Jamie Arpin-Ricci
  
• “I can’t tell you how highly I recommend this book.  It is one of the books that I believe will stand the test of time and become a classic . . .”—Jennifer Short
  

Enter to win your copy today (and tomorrow)!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

The post Win a Signed Copy of Runaway Radical! appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

I‘ve learned to love the Old Testament and its mess of stories and images so horrifying and heartbreaking that they’re difficult to reconcile with the picture of God we get in Christ.

But Jesus validates the Old Testament, and so I’ve come to a place where I enjoy wrestling with this inspiring (and often frustrating) collection of books. But there are ways that many churches and pastors handle the Old Testament that can exacerbate my issues with it:

1. We ignore the horror

When my daughter was eight, she decided she was going to read through the Bible. As a pastor, I was thrilled. That was until she came down a couple nights later and wanted me to explain why Lot was sleeping with his daughters (Gen. 19:30-36). . . awkward.

It’s humorous to me when Christians want to censor books, music, or media because of the questionable content. I mean, seriously . . . HAVE YOU EVER READ YOUR BIBLE!? It’s full of crazy, horribly sexual and violent stories. Here are a couple that come to mind:

• God sends an angel to kill all of Egypt’s first-born sons—and livestock (Ex. 12:29)
• The Israelites slaughter the Amorites by sword, and God helps finish them off with large hail (Josh. 10:10-11)
• When Judah commands Onan to sleep with his brother’s wife and God kills him for throwing his semen on the ground. (Gen. 38:8-10)
• When a concubine is gang raped by wicked men and dies, and her master cuts her into 12 pieces and sends her to Israel’s tribes. (Judges 19:22-29)

Large portions of the Old Testament are a complete freak show. I think that to be honest with God, Scripture, and ourselves we have to sit within the dissonance that these stories create. We shoudn’t ignore them for the more palatable sections and we shouldn’t be so quick to explain them away.

It’s often not the difficulties in these stories that I find so hard to swallow, but the ways that I’ve heard them reconciled and excused.

2. We whitewash OT stories for children

I spent 15 years in the Christian retail industry, and I’ve seen almost every Bible storybook for children there is. You know what I haven’t seen in these books?

• Pictures of Noah’s ark surround by thousands of dead bodies in the flood
• Naked Noah passed out in his tent
• A young David cutting off a defeated Goliath’s head
• King Darius feeding Daniel’s accusers to the lions
• The 3,000 Philistines crushed by Samson in the temple
• Elisha cursing taunting youth with mauling bears

Yes, on some level I’m being facetious. Little kids don’t know how to process that this kind of stuff. But we need to realize that the when we focus on Genesis’ 6’s cute animals and rainbows we create problems for later.

Many kids who’ve gone through years of Sunday school and youth group Bible lessons grow into adults who have a very different and one-dimensional view of humanity, God, and the Old Testament. When (if) they discover these stories for themselves, or when they’re confronted by a skeptic with the dark side of many of them, they’re surprised and can feel misled.

If you believe the Old Testament is inspired Scripture, you can’t just sing about building an arky arky out of gopher barky barky . . . you’re eventually going to need to work through the disturbing text that says God was so frustrated that he decided to kill . . . everyone (‘cept the arky crew of course).

3. Turning the Old Testament into simple moral lessons

You experience this almost any time you hear an exposition on any Old Testament story in church. The text is reduced into simplistic equations and steps for living a godly, happy, or fulfilled life. Even more tragic than that, we take stories about God’s behavior in a specific situation and normalize it. If you do this, God will always respond this way.

Daniel and the Lion’s den is a story about how God protected his chosen ambassador in Babylon. Throughout the book we see God working on Daniel’s behalf to keep the young Israelite in a place where God can influence Babylon through him. This includes protecting Daniel from those who want to kill him in order to destroy this growing influence and popularity.

But when you hear sermons about Daniel, the listener becomes focus. Daniel’s story becomes a prop to pull lessons out and apply them to the congregation’s life. This isn’t necessarily bad, except it often includes assuming that God has bound himself to responding in the exact same way in similar situations. This creates a lot of theological and interpretive problems.

Because the truth is:

• Unlike Daniel, you can act with integrity and the lions might eat you
• Unlike David, you can act with faith and Goliath may kill you
• Unlike Joseph, you can act with purity and spend the rest of your life in prison
• Unlike Elijah, God may not silence your critics with miracles

One of the things making the Old Testament so troublesome is that, instead of seeing it as the narrative of God’s creating and preparing a people for the incarnation, we tend to see it as the a collection of self-help stories.

Don’t get me wrong, these Scriptures are definitely helpful for instruction and correction (2 Tim. 3:16), but that doesn’t mean that they’re to be used outside of the narrative intent—and it’s definitely dangerous to assume that God’s response in these stories are always applicable to your situation.

On top of that, the allegorical jumps that make up some of these messages are just silly. Suddenly, David’s five smooth stones are five types of prayer to conquer your Goliath.

Like life, the Old Testament isn’t easily explained or reconciled, and it doesn’t always resolve nicely. We need to be okay with that.

Somewhere between ignoring or explaining away the OT’s most difficult passages and letting their darker elements work us into a constant state of frustration is a place where, like Jacob, we can wrestle with God until he blesses us.

The post 3 Things We Should Stop Doing to the Old Testament appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

I’ve always found American Christian culture’s diminishment of the sacred to be extremely troubling. In a manner foreign to other faiths, evangelicalism often obscures the holy in a cloud of kitsch.

Take, for instance, the Christian t-shirt. Now here’s a phenomenon that serves absolutely no purpose. Oh, I know that they’re sold as powerful tools for evangelism, but let’s be honest. Have you ever met someone who saw a “Lord’s Gym” t-shirt and fell to the ground crying, “WHAT MUST I DO TO BE SAVED!?” Feel free to leave a comment if you have (unless you’re a marketer for Kerusso).

Reducing the beauty of the gospel to a witty—and occasionally aggressive—sandwich board doesn’t seem like a great way to draw people. In fact, it seems like a better tool for Christians to identify each other in a crowd.

I have a hard time not believing that this is what it means to take the Lord’s name in vain. Here’s 10 examples why:

1. Do the Jew

One popular t-shirt strategy is to take a well-known product’s slogan and create some kind of Christian spin on it. Walk through any Bible bookstore and you’ll see tons of these, and many of them are just as questionable as this one.

The intention: Obviously it’s a take on Mountain Dew’s “Do the Dew” tagline. The addition of the John 4:14 snippet is supposed to tie it together and give it some gospel gravity.

The reality: “Do the Jew!?” Seriously!? First of all, Jesus’ exchange with the woman at the well is incredibly profound and inspirational; to reduce it to this parody is beyond pathetic.

Imagine you know nothing about Jesus, and while you’re at the DMV you see some guy wearing this shirt. What are you going to assume “Do the Jew” means? I can’t figure out of the producers of this shirt are just incredibly naive or just intentionally tasteless.

2. Original superhero

We need to make sure to cash in on the current superhero shtick! Because why wouldn’t we want to reduce Jesus to a comic character with super powers? But seriously, why isn’t there an Avenger who can turn one beverage into an another alcoholic beverage for weddings and Bar Mitzvahs!? We could call him The Mixologist!

The intention: I honestly don’t know what they’re hoping for here.

The reality: Here’s the truth—there’s no graphic design so lazy and ridiculous that it couldn’t be made stupider with the Papyrus font.

3. Doctor Who

Ah, ye olde bait and switch. When you can take someone’s intellectual property and then tenuously tie it into Scripture, you’re definitely on to something!

The intention: “If I wear this into public, nerds will be drawn to me like moths to a flame. When they get up close to check it out *BAM*, they just bought a one-way ticket to gospel town. They’re going to see this message about Jesus, push their spectacles up the bridge of their nose, and beg me to tell them more about Jesus!”

The reality: No, they’re not. You’re just going to go home and watch Blink again with your six cats.

4. QR code

Quick response codes (QR codes) were super popular for about a week. They allow you scan a two-dimensional barcode and read the information attached to that code. It didn’t quite take off because, you can usually Google the info faster.

The intention: I don’t know if the QR Code on this shirt is legit, so I am going to assume it is (otherwise it’s just another “hey you know that thing you keep seeing everywhere? Here’s another Christian version” t-shirt). I guess you scan the shirt and get to read a Chick tract?

The reality: Like I said, QR codes never really took off, but even if they did . . . do you honestly expect someone to walk up to you and scan your shirt? Seriously? And even if they would, you’re pretty much phoning in this whole sharing your faith thing at this point, aren’t you?

5. The Godfather

This classic movie from 1972 is on the top of most lists of the world’s greatest films. Why wouldn’t you want to identify this violent film about organized crime with Christianity? It seems like a win/win.

The intention: If you really want to share the gospel—but only with people over 35—this is the shirt for you. It’s perfect. You’ll be in the grocery store and some guy will come up to you and say, “I love The Godfather! Man, when Don Corleone puts that horse head in that . . . wait a second. This is a Jesus thing? Sign me up!” Act now and we’ll throw in Christianized t-shirts for Sophie’s Choice and Chinatown!

The reality: Look at this shirt a second. The classic image associated with The Godfather is the hand holding the marionette strings. The reason that image is so iconic is because the head of a mafia family is manipulative and controlling. Do you really want to associate Christian obedience with manipulation? Why would you play into one of the biggest cultural criticisms of the church?

To make matters worse, the marionette handle has been elongated to make it a cross. So . . . you’re now communicating that the very tool which represents sacrifice and service is one of control and coercion? Come on. Verdict: Leave the shirt; take the cannoli.

6. Jesus is like ketchup

I think the thing that blows my mind the most about this shirt is the fact that it’s an adult large! I know the style that it’s attempting to emulate (a big problem with most evangelical Christian art), but what you’re left with here is one large “WTF?”

The intention: I guess the intention is to provide another alternative to shirts like this? Although, I don’t think I’ve ever saw a shirt like this and thought, “that’s in incredibly poor taste; I wish there was a Christian alternative.”

The reality: Okay, forget the fact that the only reason you put ketchup on french fries is so you can enjoy eating them. This shirt’s another example of something meaningful being devalued.

You can’t miss the fact that this adorable french fry is being covered in something that strongly resembles blood. To be “covered in the blood” is New Testament imagery that’s pretty significant for many. Before I decided to follow Jesus, I remember wondering why Christians were so fixated on blood. The constant singing about fountains full of blood and the significance of communion seemed pretty macabre to me.

Perhaps this isn’t the most profound way to introduce people to an idea with so much metaphoric significance.

7. This blood’s for you

While we’re on the subject of blood . . . Do you remember in the 90s when you couldn’t get away from gory, bloody Jesus shirts? It was the most God-awful form of evangelism. “Hey mom, I’m going to wear my Jesus snuff shirt down to the mall to do a little evangelism!

The intention: Take a well-known brand tag line (in this case Budweiser’s classic ‘this Bud’s for you’) and spin it in a way that will make people really think long and hard about their spiritual need.

The reality: Like the last example, this doesn’t make any sense to the uninitiated. Sure, they’ll get the reference—despite the fact that Budweiser hasn’t used this slogan for years—but so what? This doesn’t make any sense to the average person.

Here’s an idea: why don’t you build rapport with people and introduce them to your faith in a relational, meaningful manner. No? Well, it was worth a try.

8. Faithbook

If Facebook was a country, it would be the most populated country on earth—not to mention the most annoying. Why wouldn’t you turn that popularity into an opportunity to share the gospel on a cotton t-shirt? It seems only natural, right!?

The intention: Well, turning Facebook into ‘faith’book seems clever, right? All you need to do is get someone’s attention with what seems like a Facebook reference and then hook them with the encouragement to “add Jesus as their friend.” This will inevitably make them think, “hmmm . . . if walking with Jesus is as easy as sending a friend request, I should give it a shot.”

The reality: It’s interesting. Using the metaphor of following Jesus on social media is the dumbest picture of faith and, at the same time, a brilliant indictment of American church culture.

Think about it. Adding someone on Facebook is about as simple and sacrifice-free as most of the sinner’s prayers that we lead people in. What’s nice is that once you “friend Jesus” you can unfollow his annoying updates but still keep him as a friend. It’s kind of perfect.

9. I love church boys

I. have. no. words. Seriously, what is this!?

The intention: One of the biggest fears in the world for Christians is the idea that their kids might date or fall in love with someone from outside of their faith. Obviously this shirt is a cute way to remind girls that 2 Corinthians clearly says not to be unequally yoked. Harmless and cute . . . right?

The reality: I’m thinking that if a guy wore a shirt that said “I heart church girls,” it would be deemed pretty inappropriate. Why does this not raise any flags? I have a hard time not feeling that the church is still in the business of telling young women that their job is to marry a Christian man, have his children, and fulfill his wishes.

We already imply through constant emphasis that the goal of the Christian teen is to get married and raise children. We don’t need to encourage them to see our gatherings as a smorgasbord of safe, potential dates—especially when we consider the fact that church boys are often not any more “safe” than non-church boys.

10. The Bible’s my ammo

Does the New Testament include warfare metaphors? Yes. Is the sentiments on this shirt what the gospel writers were aiming for? Well . . .

The intention: There are definitely people who resonate with the Christian battlefield mentality. I can’t really tell what the intention of this shirt is. Maybe it’s simply to stand up and make a strong, definitive statement. Maybe it’s to upset liberals? I’m seriously not sure.

The reality: I agree that the world is a battlefield. In fact,  I am so convinced that this is true that I eschew the substitutionary atonement model for the Christus Victor theory. We are most definitely in a battlefield.

The problem is that it’s not against people; it’s against systems of otherworldly oppression. But when most Christians use combat metaphors, they’re at war with political opponents, other religions, and atheists. This couldn’t be more antithetical to the gospel.

God is my weapon!? The Bible is my ammo!? Weapons are used to kill and destroy, and ammo is the delivery method for this destruction. Is that what the God is? Is that how we the Bible is to be used? Sadly, many on the receiving end of  interactions with church folk would say yes, that’s exactly how they view God and the Bible.

Between you and me, I think that my faith is too powerful, beautiful, and complex to be summed up on a Christian t-shirt.

The post 10 Christian T-shirts That Undermine the Church’s Credibility appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

. . . but the LORD was not in the wind.
. . . but the LORD was not in the earthquake
. . . but the LORD was not in the fire (1 Kings 19:11–12)

I sat in the spiritual director’s office and wept. It was the darkest time I’d ever experienced and I was doing my level best to make my life—and the lives of everyone in my wake—a living hell. I had decided I was done with the church, and I was still trying to decide if I was done with Jesus. The director just sat there watching me while I heaved big, wet, snotty sobs.

“When was the last time you were quiet?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” I responded, wiping my eyes with my shirt sleeve.
“When was the last time you just sat quietly with no music, books, TV, or internet to distract you? When was the last you just were just silent? Oh, and sleeping doesn’t count”
“I don’t . . .” I sighed. “I don’t even know.”

It was true. I seriously could not think of a recent time of prolonged silence.

After a long pause he said, “It seems your emptiness has caught up with you.”

Troubling the water

For most of recorded history, you couldn’t get away from it. The farmer, monk, chef, and seamstress all worked in relative silence within the rhythms of the day, month, and year. Gradually, technology intruded upon those rhythms and upset that silence.

Electric light extended the evening and absconded with our rest. Radio introduced constant chatter, and television doubled down on that chatter requesting our total attention. Our ability to play music in our homes has gone through a regular evolution becoming more and more mobile. When I was a teen, I was excited for the ability to listen to a portable cassette; now I carry thousands of albums around with me.

Right now there’s a device in my pocket which allows me access most of the world’s knowledge, music, games, and film—and many of its people. It’s a technological wonder that would amaze people from just 25 years ago. I mostly use it to watch cat videos (my wife will corroborate).

• Wake up and grab my phone and scroll through multiple social media channels (in a timeless loop)
• Get out of bed rush around (while periodically checking my phone for notifications)
• Drive to work with music playing, pull into work and check phone one more time
• Work while listening to music when I can, or just listening to co-workers talk to themselves when I can’t
• Head home listening to music
• Eat dinner with the family (check my phone if I can get away with it)
• Do some writing while listening to music
• Watch television (while checking my phone)
• Get ready for bed
• Climb into bed and stare at my phone some more
• Pray
• Fall asleep

It goes without saying that this is not the daily cycle of a healthy individual.

Fearing the quiet

I’m not a luddite intent on dismissing technology as bad and dangerous. I’m thankful for the huge steps we’ve taken and the genuine community I have discovered online. But I am concerned about how it’s enabling our avoidance of inner pain.

Do you know those people who seem to carry with them an inner stillness? The ones that seem serene and quietly solid and peaceful? They’re getting harder and harder to find. Most people I know (myself included) are overstimulated and overwhelmed—like the whole mass of humanity is a six-pack of cola shaken and poised to explode.

We scroll through a vast network of news stories, updates, and information responding in ways that seem more conditioned than reflective, our minds abuzz with constant distracted activity. More than any other time in history, we have the ability to stave off the loneliness, sadness, and ennui that plagues us.

Louis C.K. nails the problem here (if you’re easily offended, suck it up—this is profound).

Entering our experience

“I have discovered that all human evil comes from this, man’s being unable to sit still in a room.”—Blaise Pascal

Christians are as guilty as anyone else of looking for a shortcut to fill that hole . . . and, despite what we say, we fill it with the same exact things as everyone else.

We may be able to curb that hollowness for a while, but eventually it catches up to us and we are completely unable to deal with it. We run headlong into that void without the discipline to navigate it, and it consumes us. This is where I found myself.

What the silence reveals

The Monks of New Skete nail the issue of silence in In the Spirit of Happiness:

“If living in a monastery has taught me anything, it’s that silence is an inner phenomenon, transcending the absence of noise around us. All it takes is several months of external silence to teach a monk what noise really is. Once the initial flush of peacefulness and tranquility fades, a deeper, more disconcerting noise awakens, rudely showcasing a world previously hidden from you and living inside yourself. It is precisely the external silence, not absolute but something quite natural, that allows this to awaken by teaching us to listen. And when it does, we become aware of the extent of our self-centeredness.”

It’s like the whole of our psyche has followed Marge Simpson’s advice to Lisa, “Take all your bad feelings and push them down, all the way down past your knees, until you’re almost walking on them. And then you’ll fit in, and you’ll be invited to parties, and boys will like you. And happiness will follow.” Silence is the tool the brings to the surface all that stuff we’ve buried or lies hidden from us.

The silence we need is more than an absence of sound; it’s a break from constant stimulus and activity. It’s about allowing the tangled cords in our spirit and mind to unravel and be stilled. It’s about stopping the constant need to control our surroundings with our actions and words in a never-ending quest to drown out the unrest in our hearts. It’s about facing the dragon of emptiness, loneliness, frustration, anger, hurt, and need head on . . . and doing the soul-wrenching work of letting Jesus deal with it.

Richard Foster said it well, “The desperate need today is not for a greater number of intelligent people, or gifted people, but for deep people.” This may be truer today than any time in history, and we’ll never be deep if we don’t first become still.

The post Quit Burying Your Emptiness in Noise and Activity appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

Have you noticed the river of terrible news running through your Facebook feed? Spoiler: there’s a lot.

The more awful the story, the more likely it’s going to get shared. In fact, if it’s horrific enough, it doesn’t even have to be true. One of the things that surprises me most is how many of these horrible news stories get shared by Christians.

I’ve had a couple conversations recently about the deluge of stories featuring stuff like murders, molestation, and kidnapping on Facebook which confirmed my suspicions that Christians are pretty quick to hit share.

I’m not just talking about stories like ISIS or the natural disasters that actually have some bearing on all our lives. I’m talking about horrendous and sensational news stories that might have an impact on local families in Topeka, KS, but get shared in Honolulu.

In the past I talked about the fact that Christians need to quit sharing hoaxes, and it’s true. We shouldn’t be so quick to share half-truths and made up stories. But we need to realize that the reason so many of us are so quick to share hoaxes is because we’re often lining up to be the first bearers of bad news (which so many hoaxes are).

Could there be something in the worldview of many Christians that predisposes them to revel in distressing news? There just might be.

1. Bad news confirms bad eschatology

There are so many Christians whose whole end times scenario is tied up in the idea that the world is only going to get worse before Jesus returns. Despite the fact that crime statistics in the U.S. are actually really good, there’s a need to believe that it’s getting worse. Look at these statistics*:

Even though there’s a positive fluctuation in reported crimes, thanks to 24-hour news stations, there’s a belief that things are just going down the drain. The apocalyptic views of so many Christians actually interprets misfortune as good news—because that means Jesus is coming back soon!

2. Bad news supports a belief in total depravity

The very first point in the five points of Calvinism is the belief in total depravity. This theology suggests that in his fallen state, man is unable is to love, obey, or please God. In the minds of many, this gets translated into the idea that, apart from Christ, mankind is only capable of wicked and corrupt behavior.

If this is what you believe about your fellow man, then you’ll find more comfort in the debauchery of unregenerate people than you’ll find in their altruism. I mean, why in the world would you promote confusing stories suggesting that atheists can be good and charitable?

3. Bad news emboldens an escapist view of Christianity

For many, Christianity is about little more than getting to heaven. To sweeten that deal, rapture theology adds the promise that, at any minute, all the followers of Christ are going to get caught up in the air with him and escape this time-bomb culture.

When your hope is found in the promise of elsewhere, it helps to constantly remind yourself of the horrors of here.

4. Bad news establishes who the bad people are

Sharing bad news can be a real good way to passively communicate to your friends, family, and followers who the bad people are. There’s nothing like an appropriately placed news story to help assert how terrible Muslims, liberals, conservatives, drug addicts, etc. are.

I find that the common thread in many stories Christians share is found in who’s demonized—as it reveals something about our confirmation biases.

5. Bad news reminds you that you’re a good person

There’s something about comparing ourselves with the darkest elements of humanity that makes us seem so bright, effervescent, and beautiful. No matter what kind of bad choices we make or how badly we feel about ourselves, seeing the worst that people are capable of gives us an emotional boost.

At least I’d never do that.
At least I’d never make that mistake.

There isn’t a lot of Christians who would say that Christianity is about being better than other people, but in our heart of hearts we want it to be true. And finding people more terrible than us can be a salve for the tortured soul.

Thy kingdom come

What if instead of focusing on getting to heaven, we focused on bringing as much of the kingdom into this world as possible? What if we looked for and promoted the best in people?

I’m not suggesting that we don’t face hard truths and share unsavory stories when its necessary, but maybe we do the world more of a service by not contributing to torrent of fear and distrust that threatens to engulf us all.

With all the stories there are in the world, the one’s we choose to tell say a lot about who we are.

*Crime statistics from FBI UCS Annual Crime Reports

The post 5 Reasons Christians Love Sharing Bad News appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

I was recently reflecting on books that had profoundly touched me (look for that in an upcoming post), and I got to thinking about others that, for a time, negatively influenced the way I thought about God, Scripture, relationships, and myself.

I’m sure that with each of these examples, there are people who would say that one (or all) of these books changed their lives. If that’s the case, leave me a comment and let me know. I’d love to hear about it.

For me, these five books—as popular as they were—just kind of derailed me.

5. Wild at Heart

“A wound that goes unacknowledged and unwept is a wound that cannot heal.”—John Eldredge

I read this with some guys in a men’s group. There were some aspects about it that I liked, but there were a couple of elements that had a less than positive effect on me.

My father wasn’t around when I was growing up, and my adopted dad had some abusive tendencies (my mom’s third marriage was the charm, and undid a lot of damage). If I dwelt on the father issue too much, it would upset me. But life just went on. We’re all a lot more resilient than we think.

At least for me, Wild at Heart seemed to want me to focus on the woundings I had received from fathers in my life. It just wasn’t a healthy experience. My hurt might have been unresolved, but it wasn’t buried. At some point you learn to live with the unresolved parts of your story; you make peace with the monster under your bed.

There are people who have wounds that do need attention. They need someone to come alongside them and help them sort out their story and find some peace. But there are people whose wounds are not weeping, gangrenous, or hindering them and it’s detrimental to tell them that they need to focus on their wound to find healing.

Wild at Heart encouraged me to gather up all the broken little pieces of my childhood and inspect them. And where there wasn’t really a problem before, now I was putting those broken pieces into a grudge bag, and regularly stopping to pull them all out and examine them . . .over and over . . . and over.

But at least I had something to examine. One of the guys in the group said he felt like he had to manufacture problems with his dad that didn’t exist.

On top of all that . . . I’m not William Wallace. I don’t want to wrestle a shark or punch a mountain. I don’t feel the need to see my masculinity as some sort of macho stereotype.

4. The Prayer of Jabez

“Oh, that You would bless me indeed, and enlarge my territory, that Your hand would be with me, and that You would keep me from evil, that I may not cause pain!” So God granted him what he requested. (1 Chronicles 4:9-10)

Did you know you can take a prayer out of Chronicles infuse it with a little self-help magic and create a cottage industry? It’s true!

In 2001, you couldn’t get away from this book . . . or the subsequent devotional . . . or the leather-bound journal. People everywhere were praying this obscure Old Testament prayer because they believed it was the prayer that God really wanted to answer—despite the fact that Jesus gave us a pretty good model for prayer (Matt. 6:9-13).

Is there something wrong with praying Jabez’s prayer? Of course not. The problem with this little movement is the same thing that happens with so much Christian literature. You take a verse or a pericope and create a formula . . . and then you imply an outcome from following the formula but you don’t promise it.

For all the people I know who were sincerely praying for God to enlarge their territories, territories were expanding at the same rate they always do.

3. The Left Behind Series

“He believed he was in love with her, if he knew what love was.”—from Tribulation Force

I think I read them all—or most of them anyway. I honestly don’t know why; they were terribly, terribly written. After a while I guess I stuck with it in the same way you keep sticking your tongue in a cold sore or smelling bad milk one last time before you throw it out.

The problem was that I had become a believer after Late Great Planet Earth and I was pretty steeped in dispensationalist, pre-tribulation, rapture mania. As far as I could gather, this was all the church had ever believed and it was the truth. The Left Behind novels were just a pulp-fiction expression of this truth and to not believe it was heresy. And then I realized that not only had the church not always believed this stuff, it was fairly new.

What bothers me now is how popular this series became beyond the church walls. These novels were the doorway (or at least the window) into Christianity for a lot of people. One has to wonder if it matters what you tell someone as long as it gets them to follow Jesus.

What happened to powerful stories inspired by belief that made people think deeply about what it meant to be human, to have faith, and to be transformed. Where are the modern versions of Les Misérables and The Brothers Karamazov?* Why, when it comes to the stories the church wants to tell about what it means to follow Jesus, do so many authors and publishers want to focus on end times nonsense? Not only is it played out, it’s all conjecture sold as fact.

*Answer: They’re being written by Marilynne Robinson

2. His Needs, Her Needs

“Most women who use no make up or use it inappropriately simply lack the initiative to get the help they need”—Willard F. Harley

There are so many people who have been given this book in an effort to save their marriage. I just don’t get it. I am sure it has helped marriages, but I have to wonder if just spending time pouring energy into your marriage isn’t really the fix they needed.

His Needs, Her Needs boils marriage down into non-negotiable needs that are divided by gender:

Is it really that simple? Can the complexities of human relationships be broken down into two columns? Openness and honesty aren’t a need for men? Sexual fulfillment isn’t a need for any women? Are we through the looking glass!?

The whole part about men needing an attractive spouse and a woman’s job to never be frumpy or less than stunning was awful. I mean, what happens if your spouse is in a debilitating and maiming accident? What happens if she is unable to meet your need for an attractive spouse so that you can win the approval of your peers and superiors?

Crazy town.

1. Foxe’s Book of Martyrs

“I was brought up in a religion by which I was always taught to renounce the devil; but should I comply with your desire, and go to Mass, I should be sure to meet him there in a variety of shapes.”―John Foxe

I gobbled up Foxe’s Book of Martyrs as a primer on what it means to follow Christ. I need to be willing to sacrifice my very life and these examples of saints doing that very thing was inspiring to my young faith.

It wasn’t until later that I started actually reading church history and realized that Foxe’s book was propaganda. Did Catholics really kill and torture Protestants? Yes! Did Protestants kill and torture Catholics? Yes! Did Protestants kill other Protestants? Ask the Anabaptists. The truth is everyone in the 16th and 17th centuries (and then some) thought they were right and that their ideological enemies were under the influence of Satan.

It’s nonsense life Foxe’s that did more than inspire martyr-like faith but helped inspire prejudice and hatred.

In January, 1999 DC Talk released Jesus Freaks, a book of stories about young people who had made stands for Christ that would cost them dearly. It wasn’t propaganda against Catholocism, and there were some seriously inspiring stories in there. But I came to feeling the same way about Jesus Freaks that I did about Foxe’s.

The problem with Christians from privileged cultures reading these kinds of books is that they associate martyrdom with genuine, real, powerful faith—but they will probably never, ever face a situation like that. Meanwhile, they won’t see their every day choices as opportunities for mortification. They won’t think about embracing the little martyrdoms that matter every day like: choosing not to get your way, giving when it’s hard, loving when you get nothing in return, refusing to retaliate, etc. These are the sacrifices that move the kingdom along.

Yes, we should be ready to make the ultimate sacrifice if the need arises, but it’s even more important that we learn the much more difficult work of daily incremental martyrdom.

Okay . . . was I too hard on these books? What books do you wish you had passed on? Leave me a comment.

The post 5 Christian Books I Wish I’d Never Read appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

Despite the belief that we’re open minded and informed, the way we interpret the information around us is critically tied to our social environment and history. The worlds we inhabit inform the way we define terms, confirm biases, and make generalizations.

This isn’t good or bad—it just is. It takes more work than we realize to ensure that our thoughts aren’t limited by our context.

Sometimes in evangelicalism we intentionally create a gated community to protect ourselves from dangerous outside ideas and perspectives. When you believe that Christianity is all about subscribing to certain presuppositions, and that the devil is trying to trick you with contrary ideas, it becomes important to protect yourself other other influences.

This isn’t a post about my favorite books, it’s a post about books that provided a stepping stone from my narrow, rigid perspective into a larger, broader horizon.

5. Seeking the Face of God: The Path To A More Intimate Relationship

“The first thing to remember is that devotional reading is not solely an intellectual exercise, its aim is the active transformation of the heart.”—Gary Thomas

It’s sort of ironic that I spent so many years in Pentecostalism where I was encouraged to follow promptings and internalize sometimes questionable hermeneutics, while reading those Catholic mystics would have been frowned upon.

Thanks to Seeking the Face of God, I was introduced to a world of divines that placed a huge priority on experiencing and responding to Christ. Through this introduction to writers like Climacus, Thomas à Kempis, John of the Cross, and Teresa of Ávila, I discovered a transcendent new world.

From here it was a small step to the amazing Renovaré resources and to the writers themselves. (Incidentally, my interest in the mystics came up negatively during my ordination.)

If it wasn’t for Gary Thomas, I wouldn’t have discovered Francis de Sales’s Introduction to the Devout Life. For that, I will be eternally grateful.

4. The Mosaic of Christian Belief: Twenty Centuries of Unity & Diversity

“An irenic approach to expounding Christian beliefs is one that attempts always to understand opposing viewpoints before disagreeing, and when it is necessary to disagree does so respectfully and in love. An irenic approach to doctrine seeks common ground and values unity within diversity and diversity within unity. An irenic approach does not imply relativism or disregard for truth, but it does seek to live by the motto ‘in essentials unity.’”—Roger E. Olson

Christianity is incredibly diverse and, if we look, we’re likely to find we have more in common with others than we think.

Dr. Olson’s book is a thoughtful overview of major theological subjects that focuses on the width of orthodoxy and embraces belief from more of a “both/and” perspective and less of the “either/or” approach we’re all so accustomed to.

In the evangelicalism of my youth, we were encouraged to focus on our differences and to define orthodoxy as narrowly as possible. If we didn’t, we were leaving the door open to heresy. The Mosiac of Christian Belief did a good job of affirming the fact that we can value both orthodoxy and common ground.

I was more than excited to discover that Christianity might be more of a river than a creek.

Another great book in this vein is Greg Boyd and Paul Eddy’s Across the Spectrum. 

3. The Road Less Traveled: A New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values, and Spiritual Growth

“Since [narcissists] deep down, feel themselves to be faultless, it is inevitable that when they are in conflict with the world they will invariably perceive the conflict as the world’s fault. Since they must deny their own badness, they must perceive others as bad. They project their own evil onto the world. They never think of themselves as evil, on the other hand, they consequently see much evil in others.”—M. Scott Peck

This M. Scott Peck work put him on the map in the late seventies. If you read it now, many of the concepts seem so pedestrian and obvious. But when it was released, there was something revolutionary between its covers.

The book’s first section on discipline is worth the price of admission, but when I saw the quote above a light went on for me. The way that the church engages the culture is often in keeping with the narcissism that Peck addresses.

We’re God’s chosen people and everything revolves around us. Sure, we may not perfect, but at least we’re forgiven. It’s all the evil out there that’s a problem. What if we have an ecclesiology that is excessively narcissistic?

The moment I came across these four sentences from Peck, I jumped in my chair flipped back to the front of the book and started reading it again from the perspective of the church. It was profound.

2. God’s Politics: Why the Right Gets It Wrong and the Left Doesn’t Get It

“‘Oh, then you must be the religious Left.’ No, not at all, and the very question is the problem. Just because a religious Right has fashioned itself for political power in one utterly predictable ideological guise does not mean that those who question this political seduction must be their opposite political counterpart.”—Jim Wallis

When I met Jesus in the early 90s, I was immediately ushered into the Christian coalition, a right-wing movement put together by Pat Robertson. Like many Americans, I was convinced that the recognition of Republican ideology was one of the most important indicators of Christian orthodoxy.

God’s Politics helped me realize how important it is for Christians to rise above partisanism and quit letting anyone use us as a demographic for maintaining political power. Our prophetic identity requires that we speak into institutions of power instead of aligning with them.

This book confirms the importance of God’s people to be politically involved while earnestly desiring to be sheep amongst the goats in every party.

1. God at War: The Bible and Spiritual Conflict

“If we further consider this divine panoramic view within which all evil is supposedly a “secret good” is held by a God who, according to Scripture, has a passionate hatred toward all evil, the “solution” becomes more problematic still. For it is certainly not clear how God could hate what he himself wills and sees as a contributing ingredient in the good of the whole. If all things play themselves out according to a divine plan, how can God genuinely hate anything?”—Greg Boyd

No book has ever affected me on the level of this one. In a theological world where you can get “farewelled” by the gatekeepers of orthodoxy for asking sincere questions, Boyd’s courage alone is inspiring.

There is no shortage of books dealing with Christian responses to the problem of suffering and evil, but in the end, most of them answer the questions by eroding the actual input, say-so, and partnership that the church shares with God. Beyond that, spiritual warfare in the cosmos is often explained in a way that strips away any risk or real conflict.

God at War proffers a biblical look at a universe where prayer is more than a pro forma activity without any real impact. There is genuine conflict and potential jeopardy—not because God isn’t “sovereign,” but because he has created a universe where the free-will actions of its inhabitants can have a dramatic and powerful influence—for good or evil.

His follow up, Satan and the Problem of Evil is a wonderful companion to this book. We’re still waiting for the final book in the trilogy (and I bug Boyd on Twitter about it every six months or so).

What books enlarged your heart? I am dying to hear about them!

The post 5 Pivotal Books That Enlarged My Faith appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

“We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. . .” Romans 8:22

On the table in front of me is a vase full of lilies and daisies. I can already see the petals beginning to discolor. It’ll only be a matter of days before this gorgeous palette of colors conforms to the brown of decay.

This is the way of the world—everything falls apart.

Yesterday’s communication is today’s discord.
Yesterday’s peace is today’s conflict.
Yesterday’s emancipation is today’s oppression.

I can think of precious few relationships or possessions that I’m not constantly maintaining.

Midwives of the kingdom

There’s a time coming when God’s kingdom will appear, and it will be seem like it materialized out of nowhere. But the truth is that we—the midwives of the kingdom—have been delivering it since Pentecost.

We’re not here to create a better version of this world, to reform its systems, or to become its largest special-interest group with the goal of redeeming it through the right legislation.

We’re the kingdom in utero. We’re a holy city in its most vulnerable state.

Swords into plowshares

The appeal of the kingdom isn’t in its arguments or even in its morality. It’s in Christ our redeemer manifesting himself throughout his church.

We are birthing the kingdom into this world every time we choose:

• Love in the midst of aggressive power
• Joy over despair
• Faithfulness instead of expedience
• Peace in the face of conflict
• Patience when we could do it faster in our own power
• Kindness when we’re maligned
• Gentleness in response to aggression
• Self-control when indulgence seems wiser

The kingdom of God exists everywhere he reigns. Someday that will be over all of creation, but for now it exists in the spirit-filled people who have chosen to follow him.

This means that we’re called to exhibit the ideals of a future kingdom now, even though it’s not yet a visible, tangible entity. . . even while we’re living within the confines of this despotic empire. We are to live as if the kingdom has fully come. . . in the world but not of it.

We must choose the kingdom

To embody the values of God’s kingdom in the midst of this world leaves us sensitive, defenseless, and exposed. We are the kingdom on display in its vulnerability. Sheep among wolves.

We need to see this truth as our strength, and renounce all temptation to resort to violence, intimidation, coercion, indulgence, or any other worldly strategy for fulfilling our goals. Our enemy is still in the desert courting us, just as he did Christ, to follow him and embrace his modus operandi for introducing God’s kingdom.

Choosing the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, Christ has ordained that his kingdom would come through a people who are poor in spirit, who mourn, who hunger and thirst for righteousness, who act as merciful, pure-in-heart peacemakers.

In Christ’s economy the salt of the earth would be people who counted themselves lucky to be persecuted for righteousness’ sake—not people who persecuted those who they deemed not righteous enough.

There was nothing about Good Friday that looked like victory, but that’s exactly what Christ’s sacrifice was. There is nothing in being the world’s servants, in loving our enemies, in turning the other cheek, in pouring our lives out for others that resembles progress, but in faith we trust that it is.

We believe that God is at work confounding the strong through our weakness.

We are the midwives of the kingdom, and in the midst of the delivery drama, the mess, and exhaustion . . . we are bringing something incredible into this world.

The post Christ’s Midwives: Giving Birth to the Kingdom appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

“Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world”

Very few people are unfamiliar with John Lennon’s classic“Imagine.” John was a peace activist, feminist, megaphone for the redemptive power of love, and insufferable prick.

By his own admission, Lennon was violent and neglectful during his first marriage and he was a terrible father to their son, Julian.

“Dad could talk about peace and love out loud to the world, but he could never show it to the people who supposedly meant the most to him: his wife and son. How can you talk about peace and love and have a family in bits and pieces—no communication, adultery, divorce? You can’t do it, not if you’re being true and honest with yourself.”—Julian Lennon

He was a tyrant, a misogynist, part-time alcoholic who left his second wife, Yoko, for a “lost weekend” that lasted eighteen months.

He’s remembered by the world as a humanitarian and revolutionary.
He’s remembered by those closest to him as a tortured and conflicted soul who believed passionately in ideals he never entirely internalized.

Embracing our inner hypocrite

The initial reason that I started considering Christianity years ago wasn’t because I had some huge revelation about Jesus. I recognized something in its story that I recognized in myself. I identify with Lennon’s struggle to exemplify the ideals you promote—and his inability to do so.

I don’t know a single person who completely lives up to their values. There’s a hole at the center of all us where the goodness seems to leak out, and because of this, Christianity’s narrative of a fallen humanity resonates with me.

The divine part of me aspires to the highest ideals of my faith. I strive, and stretch, and pull myself toward the light; I long to give expression to the Spirit within me, but often find myself walking through the desolation of little compromise and enormous mistakes. Crimes of passion. Words I should have left unsaid.

As painful as it is, I take solace in the fact that we’re all in the same place. We’re all struggling to right our capsizing vessels. . . and I am forever grateful that when I fall, I fall into the arms grace.

My biggest fear is that Jesus means it when he says:

“For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”—Matt. 7:2

When I’m honest with myself, I know that I wink at my inability to be as good as I would like and demand judgement on others for the same sin. I’m the fellow who’s been forgiven an unimaginable debt but is willing to shiv you for $20. (Matt. 18:21-35)

Does failure make you a hypocrite?

We call people out for their hypocrisy pretty quickly, but we don’t really understand the word. When Jesus labeled the Pharisees as hypocrites (Matt. 23), he used the term hupokrités—a Greek term for an actor. A hypocrite is one who plays a role. One who hides behind a mask.

Sometimes we say one thing with every intention of doing another—this is hypocrisy. Sometimes we talk about the virtues of community when we just want to be left alone—this is humanity.

I don’t naturally do the things I know are best. I may talk a big game about the power of love but I lash out at the people closest to me. I may feel strongly about philanthropy and play a losing game with my own greediness.

This is typically fine and expected from people . . . until they start being a mouthpiece for love, altruism, and peace. Once you go public with your belief that “all you need is love,” you’re on shaky ground because, eventually, your inability to live up to it will catch up with you. You’re going to be called a hypocrite. . . and who knows? You just might be. You could also just be a fallible person. You’re probably both. God knows I am.

But if only the people who loved perfectly were allowed to proclaim our need for love, no one would speak of love again.

The congruity of Ayn Rand

If you never want to be accused of being a hypocrite, you should embrace Ayn Rand. Her philosophical system placed self-interest above any other consideration. One could champion Objectivism and never suffer the indignity of being called a charlatan.

If you find personal fulfillment in being kind, great! If you feel kindness is a sign of weakness that should only be offered in exchange for goods or services, that’s fine, too.

You can accuse Rand of a lot of things, but never hypocrisy. Her personal philosophy was built on deciding on the virtues you chose to embrace and embracing them fully until they no longer work for you.

The problem with Christianity is that the virtues we long to embrace originate from outside of ourselves. We recognize their goodness, but our spirits are still being formed to fully personify them. This puts us all in the awkward and unenviable position of extolling qualities we don’t possess.

The thing that I take comfort in is the fact that I can recognize the value of these virtues by the presence of my conflicting passions:

• I long to love because I fear my never-ending self promotion
• I eschew violence in spite of this constant desire to see my enemies suffer
• I embrace community despite my natural bent toward isolation
• I champion equality knowing how badly I long for primacy
• I talk of charity when I recognize my avarice

I hear a lot about different groups not living up to the progressive views they espouse. I can only speak for myself when I say, “You’re right! You are absolutely right!” I believe in ideals much higher than my own natural tendencies. My views are often much more on point than my behavior is . . . and I say this to my shame.

I am a disgraceful mouthpiece for the love of God.

Embracing criticism

This doesn’t mean that we don’t call out people who say one thing and do another. It becomes way too easy to live a life that isn’t fully integrated, and it doesn’t take too long before folks become too comfortable living in discord with their values.

It’s one thing to stumble and fail; it’s quite another to lead lives of duplicity. And if we’re not careful, the former (without restoration) easily become the latter.

We need others to love us into integrity. We need people who care enough about us (and those we influence) to warn us and coax us back onto the proper path. But there’s a huge difference between helping someone get to the place they need to be, and “putting them in their place.”

We need to be better about being open to criticism in order to recognize truths before it’s too late. Eventually the duplicitous person forgets that the other persona even exists and their restoration from hypocrisy can only come after a hard, and often shameful fall. It’s in everyone’s best interest that it happen sooner and gentler rather than later with much more damage and fallout.

On some level, I guess we’re all hypocrites and pretenders . . . but I think that some us are moving to a place where those warring parts of our character are becoming more and more integrated—conformed to the character of Christ.

The post Finding Peace with Your Inner Hypocrite appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

The early 90s were awash in books explaining why Generation X was abandoning the church. In a similar vein, there’s been no shortage of blog posts, books, and conferences about how Millennials are leaving, too.

A portion of every generation has pushed the church to grow in areas of sin and weakness. From monastics urging the church out of the sinful cities and into the deserts, aggressive arguments over the sale of indulgences, fights for emancipation in Europe, women’s suffrage, civil rights, Vietnam, and so much more, there’s been a prophetic portion of the church seeking to realign the church with her purpose and role in the world.

And I’m sure there’s also been those who walked away from the church out of frustration for her deficiencies.

I don’t want to diminish this struggle. I know exactly what it’s like to wonder if it’s all worth the constant headache. For two years I couldn’t darken the doorway of a church; I was sure that I was done. Many of the issues that continually come up in the “why millennials are leaving the church” posts definitely played a part in my disenchantment.

But here are five reasons I am back and more committed to the local church than ever:

5. I’m a huge part of the church’s problem

The bride of Christ is a mess. Despite Christ’s prayer that the church would model a trinitarian-like oneness (Jn. 17:20–21), we’re fractured and set against each other. This isn’t just the church on a macro level—the local church models this behavior in similar ways.

I’ve gossiped, sown discord, manipulated events, fought for power, demanded my way, etc. And while it may seem like some sort of humble admission for me to say so, the truth is that if you’re part of the church, you have, too.

It’s been a problem since the church’s inception. This is why Paul had to warn the Galatians that, “If you bite and devour each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other.” (Gal. 5:15)

These kinds of issues might seem small, but that’s because we don’t see the chaos theory at work in our little sins. We don’t see how our behavior affects the entire organism that is the church. I’m sure that if we saw the full effect of our judgments, selfishness, backbiting, and power-plays, we’d be surprised at how far and deep they reach.

4. The church needs prophetic voices

Despite glaring problems with Israel’s religious expression and exclusive behavior, Jesus started his reformation from within Judaism. In fact, that’s what got him crucified.

If I really want to identify with Jesus (and the prophets), I’ll continue to love the church from within while I push, cajole, and shout her into christlikeness. It would be much easier to leave.

Every voice that has called for reform (even the ones we celebrate now) experienced pushback, threats, and misunderstanding. Why would someone intentionally sign up for exclusion and loneliness?

There’s nothing more Christlike than challenging the church to be more sincere and full of grace and truth—even when you’re being crucified. If the church is going to continue reforming, it will be because of the ones who stay—and not the ones who leave.

The prophet is often an unwelcome and lonely voice, but it’s an increasingly important one.

3. I still believe in the church’s goodness

Jesus encourages us not to make a show of our goodness and promises us that the God who sees what is done in secret will reward us (Matt. 6:1–4). This means that many of the most faithful and hardworking people are doing good work that we know nothing about.

For every divisive news story about bakers who refuse to make wedding cakes for gay couples, there are many serving on the streets, in prisons, in soup kitchens, and everywhere else there’s need.

For every televangelist encouraging his congregation to give money so that he can buy his ministry a jet, there are many sacrificing to keep people fed, clothed, and cared for.

I have a friend whose mother—a pastor’s wife from large evangelical church—has served for years at the Sean Humphrey House, a nonprofit organization that seeks to improve the quality of life for low income people living with HIV/AIDS. No one does news stories about her because not enough people are tuning in at 11 to hear stories about people doing good.

News websites and TV stations make their advertising money on outrage and fear. If you want to see the good that’s being done, you’re going to need to look a little deeper.

2. The church has played a big part in my growth

There are many areas I wish the church-at-large would grow in empathy and compassion. But when I stop to think about it, it’s been people in the church who’ve been there for me in my darkest hours.

When I look back on those dark times, I’m tempted to count the names of people who’ve betrayed me or hurt me in one way or another. But I often neglect to remember the people who have been there, cared, sacrificed, and stood beside me.

Those people were there not only because they loved me, but because they loved Jesus. They were the church to me, and it’s disingenuous for me to ignore them to focus on the others (whose failures I am probably blowing out of proportion).

When I take a moment to think about it, I’m so thankful for the people who will meet me at a moment’s notice and encourage me, cry with me, share Scripture with me, admonish me, and remind me of what’s important. 

Sometimes they say stupid and hurtful stuff . . . but they’ve also loved me despite the stupid, sinful, and hurtful stuff I’ve said and done.

1. The church is a spiritual discipline

I have no doubt that I could abandon the local church, and cherry pick some friends to meet with regularly who would make spirituality and theological discussions deep, challenging, and fun.

But when I’m honest with myself, most of my growth has come from interacting with people I wouldn’t choose. By handpicking my social circle instead of submitting to a local community of believers, I’ll generally choose people who fall within my comfort zone.

I’ve grown in my ability to love by getting close to people with dumb opinions, different lifestyles, disabilities, and all sorts of issues I had not been previously been exposed to.

I need a multi-generational, ethnically and financially diverse community of people to mentor me and broaden my perspectives. I need people close to me who I can disagree with and challenge in a healthy way—while still loving and wanting what’s best for them.

There’s no question that the church has significant problems, and I’ve often daydreamed about quitting her. But I truly believe we need each other.

One caveat

I know that there are some reading this who’ve experienced abuse at the hands of the church. I don’t intend for this post to gloss over, ignore, or provide a glib answer to your legitimate pain. Sometimes there are people too traumatized by the church to jump back into that relationship.

If that’s you, I’m terribly sorry. I’m sincerely praying that you find healing and can come to a place where you are ready to give it another shot, but most of all I don’t want you to read this as condemnation for your experience.

I totally get why people would consider walking away from the church, but I think we desperately need each other.

The post 5 Reasons I Won’t Give Up on the Local Church appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

I didn’t think twice about hitting the “Publish” button on 4 Reasons Christians Need to Quit Sharing Hoaxes that Monday morning.

Up to this point, my modest little blog hadn’t seen more than 200 hundred visitors in a day. I blogged because I enjoyed the process and writing has always been a way for me to really discover how I felt about an idea or topic. A few friends and family members read it (and whoever stumbled across it in their news feed), but that was about it.

By the time I got to work on this Monday morning, the post had been read over 1,000 times. I was excited—and horrified. If I knew that it would get that much traffic, I would have put some serious effort into it. I spent much of that day hitting refresh . . . over . . . and over . . . and over. By lunch it had been read over 5,000 times. I couldn’t believe it, and I told anyone who’d listen.

The unthinkable happens

During that spike someone had read and shared, 3 Phrases Christians Should Quit Relying On, a post I had written seven months earlier. As July closed, my blog had 88,000 pageviews. In August, it jumped to 430,000. In less than two months my blog had been visited over half a million times.

You might be a successful blogger yourself and think, “Pffft . . . 500,000!? Big deal. I get more hits than that before I finish my coffee in the morning.”

You might be a casual writer/reader and think, “What is this bragging stat whore even talking about!?”

I’m sharing those stats for a couple reasons:

1. We say “viral” all the time, but it’s kind of a relative—so it’s helpful to define our terms. I mean, one man’s viral is another woman’s day of lackluster pageviews.
2. I’ll use those numbers to make an upcoming point.

Although this post is aimed at blog writers within the Christian sphere, there will definitely be some elements here that will be helpful to online writers of many genres. Here are five things I kind of wish I knew before my blog blew up:

1. Going viral will mess up your head

As I said earlier, I started a blog because I enjoy writing. I really didn’t have a good plan or goal. If a 150 people read my words, I was a happy camper. But come September, after this little viral episode, everything was different.

All of the sudden, I was chasing the dragon, trying to get lightening to strike again. I abandoned ideas that meant something to me to pursue pieces that I thought would get tons of shares. If a post was only read 5,000 times, I’d get bummed out that it wasn’t getting more traction.

Isn’t that crazy!? Two months ago 5,000 views would have blown my mind! Now I was turning into a petulant little brat. “5,000!? Is that it?” One taste of “success” and my focus completely changed. I wasn’t getting joy from writing; I was instantly looking for affirmation in shares, pageviews, follows, retweets, likes, etc.

Remember when I told you that in August of 2013 I had 430,000 visitors to my blog? Well, in all of 2014, I had less than 110,000. And honestly, that’s fantastic . . . unless you had a month where you had over 400k. That one viral month sullied what should be seen as an awesome accomplishment.

Going viral is a terrible goal

Virality is no respecter of skill or talent even though there’s a temptation to think it’s about your abilities. The truth is that there are a lot of reasons things go viral. For a moment in 2013, something I wrote resonated with tons of people, but there are a lot of blogs out there that are more insightful and better written than mine. Many of them won’t get 500 views in a day.

That’s okay. A successful blog should be a about building a loyal readership, discovering how to reach people through a robust email list and the right social media channels, and cashing in on your growing understanding of SEO. Being a successful blogger is like playing the stock market, if you’re not in it for the long haul, you’re going to end up frustrated.

2. No one you know really cares

When you go viral, it’s going to be the most amazing thing! You’re going to feel like a Kardashian—but you’re not. Most people will be excited for you because they’ve heard that “going viral” was good, but their interest will wane long before your excitement does.

I go to a church of less than a hundred people—guess how many of them regularly read my blog. Or, better yet, guess how many of them even know what a blog is. Few. Very few.

That’s not a complaint; it’s a reality. If you’re praying for some kind of viral event because you think it is going to change your life, fill some internal vacancy, or unlock the door to a million opportunities, it probably won’t. It’s a mirage and a treadmill.

There is so much viral noise now that it’s not met with much interest or long-term value. If you want opportunities, you’re still going to have to work for them. Sorry.

3. Don’t wait until you’re viral to think about advertising

If you think that you might want advertising in the future, start thinking about it before you go viral. I decided I should quit dragging my feet about advertising almost a month after my viral event.

I signed up for WordPress WordAds, and after a month got a check for almost $800. I was ecstatic at first, but then I was heartbroken. I was still experiencing some small aftershocks from my month of heavy traffic, but I let over 400k views slip through my fingers. If I had been on the ball a little earlier, that episode would have put some coin in my pocket, but I missed out.

I’m using Google Adsense now . . . and spend most of my time trying to get them to stop running Thai dating site ads on my blog.

4. Prepare for the critics and thieves

The internet’s like the old west—it runs on its own set of laws and ethics. Once you start getting an audience, you’re going to discover it things about the blogosphere you didn’t know existed. And you’re not shielded from it because you’re a Christian blogger. In fact, I think some negative elements are more evident in religious circles. And you’re thrown to those lions way too fast the first time you go viral.

Critics

Maybe it’s this bad if you’re a fashion, marketing, or music blogger, but if you write Christian content, YOU WILL BE CRITICIZED. It’s going to be vehement and it’s going to get mean. I get a lot of obnoxious comments (I don’t post them if they’re too abusive), but it’s some of the tweets, private messages, and emails that surprise me.

I’ve been called an “ambassador for hell,” an inbred halfwit, a Philistine (that one made me laugh), and more. I had someone tell me they hope that God takes me home before I do any more damage, and I’ve gotten more than one barely veiled threat (including a Google Maps image of my neighborhood with my house circled).

People can be pretty scary when they feel their most treasured beliefs are being questioned. It’s just ironic to get this kind of nonsense from people who claim to be followers of Jesus.

I’ve even seen popular Christian bloggers who, in my opinion, aren’t saying anything remotely challenging get torn apart online. So it’s not behavior that’s reserved for people who are pushing the envelop. You can post the sweetest YouTube video of your grandma, and someone inevitably will say something crass and raunchy.

Having a wider reach will bring in people who are vicious, and you need to have a pretty thick skin. I’m afraid that I’m often way too sensitive for this platform.

Thieves

A while after I went viral, friends and co-workers would send me multiple blog posts that blatantly stole my ideas or content. One post (that went somewhat viral itself) copied the idea and three or four paragraphs simply changing a few words.

I started seeing it a lot. An awesome writer like Micah J. Murray writes a post like Why I Can’t Say Love the Sin/Hate the Sinner Anymore, and a week or two later, eight different blogs are doing their variation on the exact same topic without giving any credit to the originator.

A post I wrote entitled Dude, Quit Telling Me about Your Smoking Hot Wife started getting a lot of traction. The very next day a blogger—whose Deathstar-sized online platform makes mine look like Alderaan—wrote a very similar post about the exact same topic. Coincidence? No . . . he actually worked next door to me and I’d seen him do this same thing to others.

I walked into his office, probably entirely too frustrated, and asked him what he thought he was doing. His answer? Just writing about trending topics. Dude . . . IT’S TRENDING BECAUSE I WROTE THE POST YESTERDAY! It’s not like it was a big cultural phenomenon that you decided to give your $.02 on.

I tried to explain that when a blogging WalMart absorbs and regurgitates better content from smaller boutique blogs, they appear to be the originators of the idea and siphon readers away from the the actual creative people. He just didn’t get it—and probably figured I was just jealous.

When you go viral, you get on the radar of the internet’s Halliburtons who desperately need content . . . and you get noticed by the little blog startups who are also looking to make a name for themselves. Both will justify borrowing heavily from you.

5. Be wise about the doors that open

Magazines and websites

There are plenty of marketers who are interested in your content. Huge online magazines and well-known websites need to feed their monsters daily content to exist (and bring in ad revenue). The problem is that no one wants to pay people to write. So instead of having a stable of writers, they scour the internet for quality content they can run.

If you don’t understand what’s going on, it can be hard to see your article get shared thousands and thousands of times and watch only one out of every 100 readers click through to your site. So don’t say yes to these opportunities if you think you’re going to get tons of traffic. You might . . . and then again, you might not. Just know that the SEO you get from a good backlink can be worth its weight in gold.

A sobering thought

Writers who get paid for what they do are a dying breed. As I said earlier, most large websites and online magazines don’t keep a stable of well paid authors. The internet has given so many people the opportunity to be read, but like anything, lucrative writing is about supply and demand. Right now the supply is meeting the demand like gangbusters.

I appreciate the opportunities to get my work featured in other venues, but every time I do it, I know I’m contributing to the devaluing my craft. It’s a tragic Faustian bargain.

Publishers

Marketing runs in cycles. If something works really well (and is cheap), it won’t be too long before everyone’s doing it. If your blog gets popular, you’ll start getting a lot of publishers who want you to review upcoming books on your blog.

On top of that, publishers are starting to expect writers to do more and more of their own marketing. The blog circuit is a good way to reach a lot of people for the cost of an advanced copy. So both publishers and authors will reach out to visible bloggers to feature their books.

If you’re like me, you’ll think “Free book? Okay!” But spend some time thinking about it, and if you decide to do it, be very choosy. Because here’s the truth: your success as a blogger is going to depend on your ability to find your voice and stick to your guns. Publisher don’t really care about strip-mining your effectiveness to sell a few books. There will be new viral blogs and marketing opportunities tomorrow.

If you jump at every opportunity to review a book, you’re going to get off message. You will either become a book blog, or you’ll start hemorrhaging readers who never know what to expect when they come to your site.

If you can find books that fit your voice or do interviews with people you find meaningful, do it. But going viral puts you in a place where you need to be comfortable saying, “No.” You’ll get a lot of requests and you’ll undermine your goals by agreeing to all of them. I know how tempted the idea of free books can be!

There you have it. Those are a couple things I learned the hard way. I’m interested in your experiences! Leave me a comment and tell some of the things you’ve learned from blogging!

The post 5 Things Bloggers Should Know before Going Viral appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

There’s always a strong pull to unplug from all social media as the political season picks up. It isn’t the dialog that annoys me; it’s the vitriol—particularly from Christians. It won’t be very long before many of the friendly, reasonable people we know start filling our news feeds with bitter, biting commentary about pundits, parties, and policies.

Before the political season really heats up, here are some things it would be wise for Christians to consider:

1. We are not a special-interest group

It became obvious in the mid-to-late 70s that whoever could convince the evangelical community and conservative-leaning Catholics to vote together would control one of America’s largest voting bases. It wasn’t just right-wing candidates that benefited from this realization. Jimmy Carter’s popularity in the polls came from his openness to call himself a “born-again Christian.”

Since then, politics has become a ridiculous game of courting the evangelical vote. Every politician goes out of their way to show that, yes, they are a Bible-believing, Jesus-loving candidate.
This means that to really stand out in the crowd, pundits have to appeal to Christian fears.

The need to let us know that Christianity is “under attack” in America, our freedoms are being taken away, godlessness is on the rise, or that some other scary religious group is rising to prominence is all a marketing scheme designed to secure votes. I really can not say that strongly enough. These messages are tested and tested to play into the fears that will translate into Christian votes.

It really shouldn’t be so easy to cater to Christian fears and the desire for religious prominence. We’re not a special interest group. We’re called to be as wise as serpents (Matt. 10:16), and therefore shouldn’t be so easily swayed by people whose sole desire is gain power.

There is no political message that isn’t practiced and deliberate. If a politician is constantly appealing to his/her religious faith or courting us through fear, they’re simply looking at us in simple mathematical terms.

I’m thankful to live in a republic where I have the opportunity to help choose the people I want to represent me, but make no mistake, my happiness, fulfillment, or contentment does not rest in who is in the White House or who controls the Senate.

Christianity should always be skeptical of politics and power.

2. Political stories are a product

Welcome to America where the free market runs on advertising dollars. We’d like to think that news agencies, political websites, blogs, and every other place we get our information was out to inform us based on benevolence and objectivity, but they’re not.

Every place you get information is working diligently to figure out how to offer news in a way that brings us back. Every news program, website visit, or blog post is judged entirely on it’s ability to generate ad revenue.

Why does this matter? Because if you keep going to the same place to get all of your information with the understanding that you’re getting balanced coverage, you’re fooling yourself. Every story is a product and it’s packaged to appeal to a specific palate (yes, even this one).

Christians need to start looking at the wizard behind the curtain. What’s the product being sold and why is it being packaged the way it is? It’s super easy to see how the water in your neighbor’s well might be tainted, and be blind to the poison in your own.

3. The tone of our discussion matters more than the content

Paul tells the Colossians to make sure their conversation is full of grace and seasoned with salt (Col. 4:6). When it comes to political themes, the conversation of many Christians is so salty that it’s entirely unpalatable.

As a Christian, you may feel you have a civic duty to be involved in the political process, and I would never suggest that wasn’t the case. But what value is it if your party or candidate gains power but you’ve turned people off of Christ?

The willingness for many Christians to bash and demonize political opponents paints a picture of Christianity that runs so contrary to the Christ we claim to follow (and the world-at-large knows it). Long after your argument is over and forgotten, people are going to remember your tone. Was it loving? Gracious? Kind? Generous?

To be so focused on this or that political race is so short term. We’re looking forward to a kingdom that will last forever. Let’s not turn people off of that kingdom because we’re so set on securing the next four years in this one.

4. Well-meaning Christians can disagree

Whether it’s labor unions, gun ownership, or poverty, many people have that one defining issue that drives them politically. It’s so important to them that they have a hard time understanding how any other “true believer” could possibly not prioritize their issue, too.

You might be so focused on the issue of abortion that you cannot fathom how anyone could vote for a “pro-choice” candidate. But another believer might be convinced that focusing on ending abortion isn’t as effective in bringing down the number of pregnancy terminations by lifting people out of poverty, educating teens about contraception, or closing the pay gap between men and women.

The ways in which one policy affects another are often numerous, and the discussion can be very nuanced. To focus on one particular goal above every other, to the point that you think that every Christian should agree, can do a lot of damage to your relationships and the church at large.

There is definitely room for this discussion, but there isn’t room for vilifying individuals who see things differently. In fact, you might actually benefit from listening to the views of others.

5. Our hope is not in the polls

Surely the nations are like a drop in a bucket; they are regarded as dust on the scales; he weighs the islands as though they were fine dust.—Isaiah 40:15

The Jews had over 600 laws. If it was possible to secure our relationship with God and our personal righteousness through the right legislation, they would have accomplished that. They didn’t.

“Thy kingdom come” is not a prayer that will be fulfilled by casting a ballot or making the right bill a law. A changing of the guard isn’t going to make this a Christian nation or establish God’s rule on earth. Politics will never, ever, ever save us.

But Jesus will . . .

The post 5 Political Season Reminders for Christians appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

If you follow me on Twitter, you’ll know that a number of my tweets are the simply the documentation of the terrible (yet funny) things my wife says or humorous little (sarcastic) reflections on life together. Tweets like:

“Why don’t you write a post entitled, ‘5 Reasons I Can Never Find My Keys or My Wallet and I Need a Mommy'”—My Wife

— Jayson D. Bradley (@jaysondbradley) April 27, 2015

“Every time you wear relaxed fit jeans, I die a little bit more inside.”–My wife on my apparel — Jayson D. Bradley (@jaysondbradley) April 17, 2015

“We have a good relationship, but it’s probably not good enough for the Amazing Race.”-Me “Don’t practice tweets on me.”—My wife

— Jayson D. Bradley (@jaysondbradley) May 4, 2015

Half of the fun is tweeting them and waiting for her to scream at me from the other room. It’s my opinion that sarcasm is one of the many love languages that Dr. Gary Chapman missed.

You’re not nice to your wife

I had a woman who followed me for quite a while—we had a couple conversations and she seemed to genuinely appreciate my tweets, but one day she up and unfollowed me. My Twitter attrition rate is pretty high, so I usually don’t think anything about losing followers, but this one surprised me. So I asked her if there was something specific I did to cause her to click the “unfollow” button.

She told me that she generally appreciated my tweets but felt I was too mean to my wife. This caught me by surprise because Shawna sees everything I tweet about her, it’s typically self-depreciating humor, and we think it’s the funniest thing ever.

But in the opinion of this Twitter user, that’s not how men treat their wives.

The Christian marriage mold

Biblically speaking, there isn’t a ton of prescribed behavior for married people in the Bible—but you wouldn’t know that from the church. Christianity has a whole marriage industry full of conferences, books, curriculum, sermon series, etc explaining how to have godly wedded bliss. Everywhere you turn there are blog listicles of rules, tips, and recipes for good Christian marriages.

I read a post on having a good “Christian marriage” this morning with advice like: “Try to avoid eating at restaurants” and “Define who does what chores.”

Advice is okay for what it’s worth, but the unspoken communication is that “Christian marriages”® look a specific way or have particular elements. The faith that holds the Christian marriage together is focused on the particular directives and mandates.

I remember someone asking my grandmother on her fiftieth wedding anniversary what the key to a long marriage was and her timeless answer was, “Bite back.”

Like many marriages that lived through the depression and a world war, these two were often snipping at each other and bickering. By “Christian marriage” standards they didn’t have a very good one. Sometimes it was hard from the outside to know whether they even liked each other.

But their love was abiding and permanent, and despite how it looked to the anyone else, they went the distance.

The crippled waltz

Marriage, when done right, is two broken and damaged people learning to dance. Because no two people are impaired in the same way, each dance takes on characteristics that are specific to that couple. The key is to learn to compensate for each other’s weakness and to create something beautiful—something unique.

So much marriage advice (and parenting advice for that matter) is made of broken people standardizing the dance moves that have worked for their marriage and inflicting them on others. No two dances look quite the same, and it’s no one’s place to look at any couple on the dance floor and judge the “Christianity” in their movements.

I wish I knew this years ago. Too much of my life was spent chasing the idol of Christian marriage and damaging a perfectly good union by holding it up to an idealized standard that doesn’t really exist. The glittering image of real “Christian parenting,” “Christian marriages,” Christian ministry,” or any other role we as Christians pursue creates a treadmill. I’m constantly appraising these roles by their chimerical Christian equivalents.

A “Christian marriage,” like any other marriage, is about learning to mold yourself to another person—and not to an expectation. It’s just that we do it in the presence and empowerment of God.

So relax and take some time today to enjoy the marriage you have, and not the one you should have. It might make all the difference.

The post Tearing Down the “Christian Marriage” Idol appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

It was with sadness, but not surprise, that I read about the decision to execute Boston bomber Dzhokhar Tsarnaev. As I read the formal statements of law enforcement and other officials, my sadness turned to despair.

“We know all too well that no verdict can heal the souls of those who lost loved ones, nor the minds and bodies of those who suffered life-changing injuries from this cowardly attack. But the ultimate penalty is a fitting punishment for this horrific crime and we hope that the completion of this prosecution will bring some measure of closure to the victims and their families.”—U.S. Attorney General Loretta Lynch

“It is my sincere hope that today’s verdict will bring with it a significant level of comfort and solace to all hurt, harmed and impacted by the attack on our Boston Marathon back in April of 2013.”—Boston Police Commissioner William Evans

There’s no question that the Boston marathon bombing two years ago, which resulted in the loss of three people (including eight-year-old Martin Richard) and many serious injuries, was an act of terrorism.  It was horrifying and should be condemned.

But comments like these reinforce the death penalty’s mythology. The idea that death is a “fitting punishment” and the execution of Tsarnaev could bring solace and comfort to the grieved makes perfect sense in a world that delights in the sort of action films where the guilty are pushed off a buildings or riddled with bullet holes.

But these official statements are one thing. If you checked out the #Tsarnaev on Twitter or read a little deeper you would find a plethora of sickening comments like:

“This is nothing to celebrate. This is a matter of justice. He wanted to go to hell, and he will get there early.”—Michael Ward, off-duty firefighter who responded to the bombings

Who would Jesus execute

Whenever you hear the words “pro-life,” it generally means “pro-birth.” The great majority of the church’s pro-life advocates are supporters of capital punishment. I, however, agree with N. T. Wright that “you can’t reconcile being pro-life on abortion and pro-death on the death penalty.”

When Americans were asked in a Barna poll if they believed Jesus would support the death penalty only 8% of Protestants and 2% of Catholics said yes. Yet, despite these low numbers, 32%–55% of Christians (range dependent upon generation) still support the ultimate punishment. How Christians can live with the cognitive dissonance of ardently supporting something they believe Jesus would frown upon is beyond me.

If someone (particularly a Christian) did support the death penalty, you’d think they’d do it soberly with great fear and reverence, but the celebratory atmosphere that surrounds these events say otherwise. The party that ensued outside of Starke State prison, FL, when Ted Bundy was executed was not too dissimilar to the glee I saw on social media (from Christians and non-Christians alike) when Osama bin Laden was killed.

Something is definitely wrong when we claim follow a man who halted an execution (John 8:1–11) and then was unjustly executed by the state, but still prefer justice over mercy—especially in light of the more than 4% criminals falsely convicted and sentenced to death.

Mercy triumphs over judgement

I think the thing that kills me in this particular story is the fact that Tsarnaev was only nineteen when he committed this terrible crime. When I think about how stupid I was at 19, I’m thankful that the influences around me amounted to dumb redneck kids drinking stolen beer and pushing over cows. What if I was surrounded by people I looked up to who were as dangerous and crazy as Dzhokhar’s brother Tamerlan? Who knows what kind of horrors I could have been capable of?

I believe there was an opportunity in this narrative for redemption. I really do. In fact, I think that it’s my belief in redemption that sets my faith apart from any other ism. I’m not suggesting that there’s no consequence or penalty for the tragedy that killed three people and injured more than 170, I am suggesting that we not be so quick to place a period where a comma could go. Tsarnaev should spend the rest of his life finding ways to serve for those who suffered at his hand. I sincerely believe that, in the end, the redemption could be theirs, too.

I just don’t feel that we can continue to support the punitive, eye-for-an-eye system that most of us agree that Christ would denounce.

“With every cell of my being, and with every fiber of my memory, I oppose the death penalty in all forms…. I do not believe any civilized society should be at the service of death. I don’t think it’s human to become an Angel of Death.”—Elie Wiesel, Holocaust survivor and Nobel Peace Prize winner in 1986.

The post Who Would Jesus Execute appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

In the last 20+ years I’ve served in a variety of churches:

• Foursquare
• Baptist
• Free Methodist
• Reformed
• Non-denominational/Emergent
• Nazarene

Despite the differing theologies in these denominations and associations, I have heard one thing over and over: a Christian must “die to self.” Christians are called to voluntarily take up their cross (a torturous device used for execution) and follow Jesus.

This “dying to self” (or as Christ puts it “denying oneself”) is part of the sanctification process that enables us to focus on out greater call of building Christ’s kingdom and less on our own petty demand that things go our way or that people recognize how awesome we are.

It’s not something that the church made up; it’s a distinctly biblical concept:

• Then Jesus said to His disciples, “If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me.” Matt 16:24
• “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” Jn 12:24
• Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others. Phil. 2:3–4

But here’s the thing: for all of our talk about “dying to self,” it’s something I’ve seldom seen (in myself or others).

Why are Christians so petty?

Due to the enormous amount of time we spend talking about self denial, you’d think we’d be good at it. We don’t seem to be.

It isn’t the big mistakes and stumbles of our co-laborers and leaders that trouble me; it’s regular, disturbing behavior like grumbling, power grabbing, demanding of rights, and gossip in the church that’s been behind some of my biggest struggles with doubt.

Am I the only one who has noticed how people in the church are often more sensitive and easily offended than the people outside? I’ve seen people upset and and angered over the most inconsequential issues. I’m not talking about individuals who’ve been seriously abused by the church when I say that I’ve seen too many people ditch their community of faith for the one down the street  for the craziest, most self-serving reasons.

It doesn’t seem to be particular to any denomination, and it’s not something that believers appear to grow out of. I’d feel so much better if I looked around and Christ’s more “seasoned” followers were less petty and demanding—but that’s typically not the case. Quite honestly, I’ve experienced the same behavior from older generation church goers in comments like, “we built this church and we’re not going to let it . . .” or “with the amount of money I’ve given, I expect . . .”

It isn’t just obvious in the way we behave in our churches—spend some time reading the online interaction of many Christians. We’re a quarrelsome and condescending lot. Some of the most egregious and aggressive internet trolls I’ve seen are online fighting for their version of gospel truth.

Are we overselling Christian transformation?

So here’s the big question. Are we expecting too much from Christianity? Are we selling a tonic that doesn’t really work?

I don’t think so.

I think spiritual formation is an important (if not the most important) facet of the Christian faith. We’re not just doing altar calls and leading people in salvation prayers to rescue them from hell. We’re doing it because we believe that people can genuinely be reconciled to God. And this reconciliation has to mean that we’re growing more similar to the object of our affection.

The problem is that we’re not doing a good job communicating the danger in “small sins” like wrath, jealousy, vanity, entitlement, gossip, etc. We focus so much on big behavioral sins and neglect the little tributaries they spring from. We’re not vigilant enough in recognizing these things in ourselves and weeding them out. We see spiritual disciplines as pro forma activities and not as warfare for our spiritual liberation.

Here in the United States, we have so tethered Christianity to the American Dream™ that we don’t even see how mutually exclusive they are. We live in a country where the “pursuit of happiness” is tied to our view of independence that we can’t understand why we would deny ourselves any good thing or not indulge our indignation over the slightest provocations.

We spend so much time letting our passions, attitudes, and prerogatives off the leash to play that, when the situation calls for it, we are completely unable to tether them up again.

The way we have done Christianity in the last 60+ years has made salvation the finish line. As soon as I have entered the kingdom, I’ve won.

The Christian life is so much more than reading a devotional during your morning quiet time and church attendance. It is diligence and the regular, systematic crucifixion of the little attitudes and behaviors that undermine community and lead to future personal meltdowns.

No, we’re not overselling transformation. We’ve just forgotten that it’s not a marketing bullet point to sell a product; it’s an expectation for everyone who follows Christ.

The post Are Christians Overselling Transformation? appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.

I recently addressed the question, Are Christians Overselling Transformation? In this post, I looked at how often we talk about “dying to self” and “becoming more like Jesus,” but continue to be mired in petty, irrelevant emotional outbursts, offences, and grudges.

Following this theme, I wanted to discuss one of the reasons we struggle with being truly transformed by the gospel. By way of illustration, I’ll be using a couple scenes from Steven Spielberg’s amazing 1993 film, Schindler’s List.

The winner of seven academy awards, including best picture and director, Schindler’s List tells the tale of Oskar Schindler and his rescue of over a thousand Polish-Jewish refugees during the Holocaust. By employing them in his factories, he kept them from the Kraków-Płaszów concentration camp and away from the dangerous Amon Goeth (played brilliantly by Ralph Fiennes).

Goeth—called the “the butcher of Płaszów”—was eventually tried and convicted as a war criminal for personally ordering the imprisonment, torture, and extermination of thousands of camp prisoners.

The pitch

In a pivotal moment in the film, Schindler and a drunken Goeth stand on a balcony talking. Schindler appeals to Goeth’s vanity and lust for power to get him to quit randomly shooting and abusing prisoners:

“[The Jews] don’t fear us because we have the power to kill, they fear us because we have the power to kill arbitrarily. A man commits a crime, he should know better. We have him killed, we feel pretty good about it. Or we kill him ourselves and we feel even better.

That’s not power, though, that’s justice. That’s different than power. Power is when we have every justification to kill—and we don’t. That’s power. That’s what the emperors had. A man stole something, he’s brought in before the emperor, he throws himself down on the floor, he begs for mercy, he knows he’s going to die . . . and the emperor pardons him. This worthless man. He lets him go. That’s power.

That’s power.”

This attempted  appeal to Goeth’s arrogance is very similar to how many Christian books and sermons motivate believers toward Christian attitudes and behaviors. While they don’t typically manipulate people through appeals to vanity (well . . . maybe occasionally), they do tend to prod them based on promised pragmatic outcomes and internal satisfaction that godliness brings.

For instance, if you love your enemies you’ll:

• Win them over
• Make them your allies
• Feel the satisfaction of not stooping to their level
• Convince them of their foolishness

When they’re not appealing to pragmatism, they’re subtly promising that Sermon-on-the-Mount-like behavior translates into the kind of otherworldly peace and tranquility that one associates with eastern religions like Tibetan Buddhism.

Like Amon Goeth, we take all of these resources in and fall in love with the fantasy of seeing ourselves as magnanimous, charitable, benevolent, and merciful individuals.

The practice

The day after this discussion with Schindler, a stable boy works to get Goeth’s horse ready before the commandant arrives. But before he can finish, Goeth is there. The boy struggles to mask his panic; he knows that not having the horse ready could get him killed.

Stable Boy: “I’m sorry, sir, I’m almost done.”
Goeth:“Oh, that’s all right.”

The stable boy struggles to finish while completely confused at Goeth’s patience and good nature.

During the day Goeth rides around his kingdom holding himself like an emperor in the saddle. But no matter where he turns his head, he’s met with ungrateful, demoralized, and lazy prisoners. He forces himself to smile benevolently nonetheless.

Later in the day when Goeth returns from his work sweaty and tired, he’s met by a worker who has been unable to get the stains out of the commandant’s bathtub. During a brief exchange, it becomes clear that the worker has been trying to remove the stains with soap and not lye. An honest, but stupid, mistake.

Fearful, the worker awaits his fate as Goeth’s hand moves toward his pistol holster. Goethe stares at the worker wanting to shoot him but instead declares with a grand gesture, “Go ahead, go on, leave. I pardon
you.”

At this point the script says these profound words:

The worker hurries out with his pail and cloth. Goeth just stands there for several moments—trying to feel the power of emperors he’s supposed to be feeling. But he doesn’t feel it. All he feels is stupid.

Moments later Goeth shoots the worker in the back as he leave’s the commander’s villa.

Reflection

I can not think of a better example of the problem we have living out the ideals of Jesus. When we’re sold an outcome-based image of what will happen when we forgive our enemies, love those who persecute us, feed the poor, turn the other cheek, etc., we’re put in a precarious position.

Like Goeth, I’ll give forgiving others a try hoping it will make me feel more godly and altruistic, but it doesn’t. I just feel foolish. I feel taken advantage of. I put the offender in the position to hurt me again. I stand there in the wake of my graciousness just feeling waves of humiliation wash over me.

When we have been sold an outcome that doesn’t come to fruition, we’ll always revert back to what works . . . or at least what makes us feel better. Obviously holding grudges and hating others doesn’t ultimately “work.” In the long run, it only creates more of the problems that the gospel tries to solve—but it helps us not feel so powerless and foolish.

Maybe instead of appealing to our individualistic needs and desires, we need to start seeing our spiritual transformation (which translates into genuine change) as integral to expanding the kingdom’s influence in this broken world. We aren’t turning the other cheek to achieve an expected result or to feel altruistic; we’re doing it because it is how we display the character of Christ for the world to see.

I discussed this issue in a post entitled Why the Sermon on the Mount Is Absurd and Impractical. We’re not called to certain behaviors because they “work,” because they’ll guarantee for us a specific end, or because they will make us feel  a particular way about ourselves. We’re called to adopt a particular posture because it reflects the character of posture of Christ himself.

Once we begin to shed the pragmatic expectation that these behaviors will give us the outcomes we desire, we can begin to submit to the Spirit simply because that’s what we’re called to do.

Then we can quit trying to see Christianity as wish fulfillment, and start seeing it as the subversive revolt it’s intended to be.

The post Why We’re Failing at Spiritual Transformation appeared first on Jayson D. Bradley.