Warren Gets the Left’s Knickers in a Twist

Fellow leftists, please, step back for a moment.  It’s not that horrible.  Really.

Don’t be one of those easily offended right-wing freaks.   Warren’s selection to give the invocation does not mean Obama’s going to force women to have babies and gay people to live in sin.  That’s not what Warren represents to Obama, and that’s not what he should represent to us.

We – progressive Christians – should take his selection as a message.  Or several messages.

One is that we’d better get our act together.

Mainline churches are dying, burdened by expensive buildings, unable to build community in communities that need it, and too committed to our own personal liturgical preferences.  We might love gay people, have sanctuary churches, and feed the poor, but we’re not particularly welcoming in plenty of other ways.   Secular Progressives generally aren’t impressed by us.  And our churches are just getting smaller.  So there is no reason why Obama should listen to us.  We’re becoming irrelevant.

Warren, on the other hand, walks the walk:  he builds community.  He offers people meaning.  He teaches people to connect with other people.  He is much like Obama in that he is a community organizer.  If we want to be able to represent the way we love Christ, then progressive churches better rediscover what it means to be embedded in our communities.  If we want the sort of authority that Warren has, worldwide, then perhaps we might build relationships also.  Because that is what Warren does.  We have to learn from him.  We don’t have to like his theology, but his actions say more than his words.

Remember, also, the relationship between any pastor and politician has plenty of dangerous pitfalls – especially for the pastor.  Usually in the battle between the bishop and king, the king wins.  For this reason, this is much more of a danger for Warren than it is for Obama.  The religious right should have learned this:  after eight years of supporting Bush, they didn’t get very far.   Of course, the traditional NCC based Christians fared worse – in part because they expect kings to listen to them.  In spite of every mainline denomination, except the Southern Baptists, opposing the war in Iraq, Bush went anyway.

Obama and Warren can talk all they want, but Obama doesn’t need to change his views about anything.  He won’t.  Conservative evangelicals didn’t vote for him, so he’s not losing anything.  He’s not changed his personal views about abortion or sexuality.  He’s not suddenly become an evangelical.  He does understand, however, that Warren is one of the few pastors that makes the church relevant.

Even for me, a leftist priest, Warren’s suggestions and work are useful.  Not his theology, which has no appeal to me or my congregation, but his understanding of what communities need.  Warren cares about lively, thriving communities, and thriving persons.  A number of people have entered my progressive church after reading his book, The Purpose Driven Life. They want to contribute to their communities and make people’s lives better.

I suspect that Obama knows that Christian progressives are weak.  Because progressive churches generally don’t have anyone in them, the broad church “left” has no political power.  Until progressives generally see churches as opportunities, rather than as enemies, and until mainline churches start truly listening to their communities, Obama is doing a wise thing.  He has made formal obesiance to the most important evangelical in the country.  And by doing this he is simultaneously diminishing Warren’s credibility with the freeper, moonbat wing of the party.

He is further dividing the evangelical base.

Second, just because Warren opposes abortion and homosexual rights doesn’t mean he will have the political capital, or use his political capital, to promote sorts of policies along these lines.  Warren’s energy  around poverty and AIDS, however, is what Obama will listen to.  Unlike other evangelicals, Warren may just decide that he can deal with Obama because he shares concerns around global poverty, which is of little interest to the those Christians who have sold their faith to the far better organized religion of tax cuts.   And although he might not change his church’s views about sexuality, it might be enough that he just stands out of the way.

This is a low-cost alliance for Obama.   There is no way in hell Obama will become anti-abortion.  The cultural trend is toward liberalization regarding sexuality.  For no matter what gay-rights activists or fundamentalists say, people just don’t give a rats ass about who other people are screwing.   They want their daughters to have access to birth control.  Most people do not want big government to criminalize the consequences of sex.  Obama’s made the calculus.  He gains through building a relationship with Warren.  Warren loses credibility among his base for building a relationship with Obama.

Progressives might pay attention:  Warren is currently on a spiritual journey in a direction that should please those who care about poverty, AIDS, and climate change.   Unlike other Prosperity Gospel Christian leaders, he is not a hypocrite.  And unlike many leftists, he is organized enough that he can actually change the world rather than complain about it.

We have little to worry about.  Although I would have loved to see Obama choose a mainline pastor give the invocation, (he chose Pastor Joseph Lowery to give the benediction) but most of them do a better job of talking rather than doing.  And they can’t offer him anything.   The liberal, mainline church is dying because its killing itself.  Secular progressives don’t care, and our own congregations don’t want to change.  Obama sees who has power within church.  And it isn’t us.

He is wise to connect with Warren.  He has, in my view, defanged him.  And there will be another powerful evangelical who will become unable to stand in his way.

Obama has Warren’s number.

Update:  Bishop Chane Speaks!  He does make a good point about Warren’s foray into discussing assassinaton.  On the other hand, all politics is local.  Remember that Obama has another strategy for the Muslim world.  It is a delicate balancing act.

Another update:  Gary Stern does a good job of listing what people love and hate.

Vampire Christians?

Sometimes you can hear the desperation of the church crying out into the wilderness.

Where are all the people?

How will we pay the bills?

Why is our roof leaking?

It’s not a pretty sight.  I’ve seen churches where parishioners trounce upon new members like vampires, sucking out life from these unsuspecting innocents.

“Will you serve on this committee?  Will you do the work?  Will you give us money?  Blood or your first child is also OK.”

It is discouraging for those of us vampires.  I mean, discouraging for us in the church who truly want to serve, and require resources to do this.

We are caught pleading and begging.   It’s the season for us not-for-profits to beg and plead.  Blah blah blah.  I need your hard earned cash.  Now.

Many visitors know that they will be seen as prey and have the sense that they will be valued mainly for their financial contribution.  I know because sometimes I, myself, have felt like a predator, wanting desperately to be liked, begging for people to come again.  And then making newcomers do the work other congregants burnt themselves out on.

It’s the way many churches work.

I want us to do something different.  Before getting on this treadwheel, let me offer a new way of thinking about what we are about to do.

I believe that if the only thing the church cares about is its own institutional survival, then just let it die.  In fact, let’s kill it.  People don’t need clergy as personal chaplains.  They should develop better friendships (although I’ll always be a friendly sounding board). They don’t need to fund a building that’s falling apart, when they’ve got more pressing needs of their own.    People are not here to serve the church.  Visitors don’t exist for the sake of the church’s survival.

As long as the institutional church thinks of the outside community as potential recruits into their cult, it will either become a cult that revolves around a charismatic personality, or die.

What we need is a completely different model.

A few people, of course, are skeptical.  In the old days, the priest was the caregiver.  The congregation got served.  The priest becomes the one who is responsible for explaining the faith, making the rules, and calling the shots.  I do long for those days, but people don’t buy it much anymore.  Nor should they.

In a new model, the role of the priest is to communicate the gospel, help people collaborate to live out their ministry, and create entrepreneurial programs that build the community.

In the new model, the church exists for the sake of building up other people –  that is what Jesus Christ did.  Not just Episcopalians.  Not just Christians or Catholics.  But everyone who needs support.  Skeptics and Jews and Muslims.

Just not Methodists.  And Red Sox fans.  I draw the line there.

Just kidding aobut that, actually.  Of course Methodists. Shintoists, however, must go to the outer darkness.  Although I have nothing but respect for those who practice the cult of Amaterasu Omikami.

I digress.

The shift means that we live into the idea of the priesthood of all believers.  Instead of being priest centered – or even church centered – each one of us has the responsibility of encouraging, challenging and participating in our communities.  In this time of chaos and distress, we are called to get out and gather the people.   Every individual in the parish has a calling, a purpose, a potentiality that they can live out and share.

We may have to think hard about how we connect with people.  Do we even know our neighbors?   Can we discover their passions, their needs, their hopes and fears, their motivations?  Then, when we gather, we can share these hopes and find ways to advocate and enact them.

These friends and connections may never darken our door.  But we would be there.

This requires a long term view.  It’s hard to change our perspective because churches see their leaking roofs, their heating bills, wondering how they are going to be fixed, frustrated that our kids don’t value the faith that we have.   Perhaps we should ask them about what they need.

I think we’ve been telling people what we need so often we’ve simply forgotten how to listen.  In many churches we’ve told them who they should be, what they should do, and what they should do better.   Some people want those churches and need them badly.  They’ll find them.  But it’s not how mainline churches will survive.

Our call, however, may simply be – at this time – to listen carefully to what the culture is saying, and where it is hearing the gospel.  For the gospel isn’t just holed up in church.  It’s in the movies, the music, on the internet.  In people’s lives.

Maybe once we have heard, we’ll become the gathering that was intended for us all along.

Pay Attention!

Feel the urge to go out spending?

Iet that feeling also.  Not quite maxed out on my credit cards, but it could be easy to be generous.

I’m not one to get worked up about the ethics of excess spending, our consumption culture, the urge to buy new and useless things.  Giving is good.   Buying helps the economy.  And the simple life is sometimes overrated (not always, but sometimes).

But I worry that when I buy, I’m not paying attention.  I spend carelessly, without attention to what I’m buying, and for what reason.

During advent, we’re encouraged to do this:  pay attention.

It is so easy to be careless.  I wonder if it is because we are constantly multitasking.  We’re bombarded with images and sounds – a cacophonous and distracting din away from the relationships and events that actually give us joy.

Madeline L’Engle, the author, wondered if the universe slowed down, just for a moment, when Christ was born.  She muses that every subatomic particle, and every galaxy, is a child of God.  And here we are, celebrating a human child.  We are all made of stardust, it seems, and this event is a beacon by which we remember what we are made of, and that it is wonderful.

I appreciate the sentiment. Even if it is merely poetry, it should remind us that what gives us joy isn’t what distracts us away from the world, but what holds us in awe of it.

This advent is the season of learning to pay attention.  To what?  The bundle of hope that lays on the horizon, found in the most unusual of places, tucked away in a corner of the universe no one would have ever have thought to look.

What are we paying attention to this season?

Blues Musician to head Pittsburgh Episcopal Diocese.

Looks like the interim diocese is going to call Robert Johnson as Bishop.

This is a huge musical change for the diocese.

Kind of confirms the worst fears of traditional Anglicans.

Bush Thought He Had Friends


There was no question that Bush wasn’t going to be hurt.

This was reminiscent of those who use pies.  Less flavorful.

This reminds me of Rick Springer, who smashed Ronald Reagan’s award in 1995.

That event became a representation of how authority gets constructed.

Bush is used to having people around him who say they like him.   He was hoping for approval.  Instead, the Iraqi version, of Kiss My Ass.

No respect.

Counting

I’m counting.

Parishioners.

I’ve got these big thick books – the parish registry.  They include all those batpized, confirmed, married and died.  I have no idea how people actually used them.  Because all I want to do is get an actual count.   Have people moved?  Did they just disappear?

I’m ready to put an attendance sheet in the back of the church.

I just want to know:  Who is in it?  Who wants to be in it? Who is being counted?

Does it matter?

It’s clerical work.

What Obama can teach the Churches

Over the last two years, we’ve witnessed the rising of one of the most important social-political organizations since the Christian coalition became the effective foot soldiers for the Republican party: Obama’s political campaign.

The campaign should be of immense interest to mainline denominations. Not because Obama shares our political beliefs, which he may not; not because he is a Christian in a mainline church; but because the methods of community organizing hold the key for the rebirth of mainline churches.

Why did Obama campaign work? It had a clear mission. People met people: they knocked on doors; they invited; they began conversations. They told people about the Obama campaign and what it means for their communities.  Community organizing 101 is another name for evangelism, and it is what progressive churches should be doing.

It requires training. It’s hard for shy Episcopalians to meet people and get to know them. Being forward in a ingratiating and commercial way seems false and deceptive.  Becoming more public may ruffle the feathers of the reserved.  Lots of people think that religion should be private, and that public religion borders on the religulous.

But in an organization that truly cares, these concerns can be directly confronted, challenged and mitigated. Our goal is not the verbal assent to a particular proposition about Jesus or an agreement that affirms identical thought.   We do not even presume our thoughts and ideas were as pure and holy as God’s.  Instead, we merely connect with people to build bridges of trust, thereby embodying the trust that God has in us.  We say, that the church is here for them, the unchurched.

Some call them sinners.

Organizing, getting out in the field, greeting and meeting people, might raise the fears of the unchurched and non-religious.   They might worry that I’m encouraging mainline churches to proselytize like Jehovah’s witnesses or the Mormons.   They might be anxious that we will become just a mirror image of fundamentalist churches, inviting people into our peculiar cult.

The first step for us, however, is to let go of the idea that church is necessary.  We should admit that nobody is interested in church. They don’t want to go, and they won’t.  They have pressing problems in their own lives, and for many, church is experienced as parasitical, hypocritical and greedy.

For this reason, let’s not ask them to church.  It isn’t where they are.  And we’d save ourselves a lot of agony if we didn’t pretend it would be easy for us to convince them.  So let’s not do it.  Besides, if we did it for that reason, it would be more out of selfishness than for their own needs.  So when we meet people, let’s eliminate the pressure we have for feeling like we have to drag someone into church who really just has better things to do on a Sunday Morning.  It isn’t necessary.

Instead of asking people if they are saved, or have a church community, our mission is to find out where God is already leading them.  We might not even refer to the word “God.” It’s more important to discern what people are looking for so that we can better serve them, out there, the places where God is also working.

There may be a few people who decide we’re doing the right thing. A few might decide they want to be part of our meaning making institution.  Some might decide they are called to follow Christ and share the gospel.  But there aren’t any guarantees. All we can set out to do is discover our connectedness and mutual interests.  Community organizing is much more about having the church engage the community rather than shape the community for the church’s needs.  Let us be prepared when the subject of “God” or conversations about meaning come up.  Our first role is merely to make a connection.

Because God is also working outside the church to build people up.

The church has an opportunity. Just as people are deeply dissatisfied with the administration of George Bush, there is also a deep dissatisfaction with religion. People think of Christians as homophobic, judgmental, political, and naïve. As Barna has demonstrated, most people think Christians are jerks who want to people to think like they do.

We’ve seen that the idea that knowing Christ makes one a more beautiful, a more loving, a attractive sort of person is not always true.  So instead, perhaps it is time to learn from people outside our churches what a true Christianity could really look like.  Because I suspect they have promising dreams of what Heaven is.

This requires expanding our connections. We’re not good at this. I asked people in my parish how many new friends they had over the last year, the number was small: any new friends they made, they made through the church. Perhaps people in our smaller, struggling churches just don’t make friends in the community, and it’s not worth it to them to invite their friends to their church community. We should ask why.

This will not be easy. The initial challenge for us is to ask: are the stakes high for our churches? Do we have a mission that we care about? Can we describe this concretely, and with passion, comprehensibly?

Many churches have decided that their properties and their liturgy are more important than connecting to the people around them. They have spent their energy mainly on maintaining the old order rather than on offering a vision of the world that is inspiring. These churches are going to find the waters rough in the near future. For example, one priest once challenged his congregation: “Would you die for your grandchildren?” And of course, they all said yes. “Would you change your music for your grandchildren?” The response? Silence. The message: we’d rather be dead than listen to their music.   I have heard plenty of parishioners praise the joys of a small church, uninterested in the high quality of ministry that larger churches often offer.  The consequence:  churches that will remain small and die.

A change in practice will also require a new description of the priest’s role. Priests can’t be caretakers or therapists in relationship building organizations. They will set goals and hold people accountable for visiting. They will be less concerned about the building and more concerned about strengthening relationships within small groups. They identify leaders and call them to share the vision, and the mission, of their church. From these conversations, a priest may learn what role a church can actively play in a community. Priests will also and train parishioners to do the same: meet neighbors, have conversations, and identify ways to connect with the community.  And they will have to be evaluated and held accountable for their work.  No more easy sinecures.

Most important, we can build if we in the church believe what we say. I wonder if the angry conservative wing of the church have the mainline church pegged: we don’t really believe. Do we believe enough that we are making friends with the people around us? Do we believe enough that we think the communities we form are worthwhile? Are clergy sitting in offices, redoing old bulletins, waiting for our retirement, hoping that the few remaining people in our churches will help us buy a little studio when we’re finished? And are our parishioners satisfied that they have their own personal chaplain who will cater to their need to be valuable in a time of crisis?

The churches that will survive are those where the clergy are the sorts who actively train and lead communities into building each other up. It is not merely tinkering with the liturgy and changing the creed; nor is it a matter of simple advertising. It is participating in the lives of people in the community where churches grow. Can they do this? Will they? The past practice has not been encouraging.

The Obama campaign has learned to do this through hard work, strong organization and mutual accountability. The consequence? A black president, an event previously only in the furthest reaches of the popular imagination.

Churches won’t identically replicate Obama’s success. The goal of his election was short term (although surely it hasn’t felt like it); the passions rich; and the mission wasn’t merely about race or religion. There was a deep disenchantment with the current administration, and Obama tapped that.

But who knows what would be on the horizon of a church that sought to know the deepest needs, desires and prayers of the unchurched? It means doing things differently. And perhaps in this election cycle we’ve been shown how.

Perhaps we would begin to learn that people crave the Gospel. And we would learn again how to share it.

Anglican Communion Fantasy

The other night I was at a bar, thinking about my ex-girlfriend when I saw this really hot blond with legs that just wouldn’t stop.

She was dressed in a red cashmere sweater, had modest earrings that looked vaguely South Asian. A light patterned scarf from Hermes draped around her pearls, and wore a classy, tight, knee length skirt.  Her legs indicated a discipline of tennis and running.  She was drinking a Fuller’s London Pride:  not a great brew in my book, given that there were so many great American Beers, but I knew her type.

Anglican.

I walked over to her.  I’d been planning for this.  I knew that even if we did decide to provide each other some mutual comfort only for the evening, we would have enough in common for a combative friendship.  We could discuss pressing world issues like incense, the New Zealand Affirmation of Faith, and zuchettas.  But if she were of the provincial variety, I’d have to start from the medieval perspective.

“So….  What do you think of this new Anglican Province?”  I winked.  She might get flustered, I figured, if she didn’t wasn’t one of those who took a dim view of same sex affection.  Not just the sort that includes hand holding.  Not merely a joint checking account.  Not just sharing laundry or doing dishes.  But affection with orifices and orgasms.  In the orthodox view, orgasms are strictly for those within the property covenant.

She might respond with a casual, “I don’t know what they are thinking,” demonstrating sadness in the direction of the Episcopal Church, or “well, TEC will survive,” expressing hope in their magnanimity.  Perhaps she would say, “It’s about time.  I’m now going to attend church.   I’ve been waiting for one that was led by Bishop Duncan, who can now properly be called a pope.”  Relief that after years of being a wanderer, finally a conservative church which understood her liturgical tastes.   There were gazillions of them, I know, waiting finally for the true church to unshackle itself from the rude heretics that made up The Organization that calls itself Episcopalian.

I was prepared to engage.

I continued,  “Anglicans in North America.  Can you dig it?  Bishops.  Lots of them.  Getting it on with protecting Christian civilization from the gay people.  Maintaining the FOD.  That’s Faith Once Delivered.  Foddites.   The one true historical Christianity, the one that is the biggest and best of the many.  Because if we won’t, who will?  God?  Who’s going to protect Him and the faith?” If she was sympathetic to my conservative Christian line, I was in.  But I could play it off like a joke if I needed and she turned out to be a liturgical Unitarian.

She looked at me for minute as if I had been dropped off from another planet.  A planet with only Lutherans who still insisted in doing the mass in Swedish.   As if I’d argued that Anglo Catholicism was invented by closeted Gay Brits who shared a secret affinity for Oscar Wilde.  She began to open her mouth when I said, “Don’t worry.  We can still be friends, even if we don’t agree.”

She blinked a couple and said, “Excuse me, but what the fuck are you talking about?”  I forgot that Anglicans sometimes use blue language.

I wondered, however, if I had her mistaken.  Maybe she was a high class Methodist.  One of those social justice types that occasionally did Zen, but whose parents had made enough money to send her to Kent School or St. Paul’s.

“You know, the new Province.  Can you dig it?  Purple shirts, getting together and not having gay sex.  They look gay, but they aren’t.  Very counter cultural.  It’s the new reformation.  With Africans.  The press will pick it up.  And then the millions of people, young and old, black and white, men and a few women, straights and closeted gays who’ve left the Episcopal church because of the out gay people who kill babies and deny Jesus, will finally have a home after living in the spiritual wasteland of the Terrorist Episcopal Church.

“The New province.  You know what I’m talking about.”

She wasn’t buying my enthusiasm.  Did I read her wrong?.  She just stared at me, pretending she didn’t understand.

“What else could bring us together, babe?  Finally, a real world issue.  Gay sex.  And brave, manly men like Bob Duncan, keeping the faith.  The man was meant to be the pope the way Obama was meant to be president.  He even has an American English-like accent.”

After a minute she raised her eyes, ready to tell me what I wanted to hear.  She was  truly a poster child for the new Anglicanism.  Which means, she was smokin’. She raised her eyes to me said,  “Is this a Real Life episode or something?  Are there cameras nearby?”

“Come on, sweetie.  You know why the church is dying.  LiberalismHumanismBishop Pike.  I know you shudder when you think of him.  Let’s just say later I’ll turn you on by calling him ‘heretic Pike.’”

“This is a little weird,” she giggled a bit.  I guessed that “weird” was a secret code for Anglicans.

“Granted, the real problems happened with Women’s ordination, but we can gloss over the … problem of gender until the next time we meet with the Romans.”  I hoped she wouldn’t tell me that the Roman Catholic Priesthood was the safest place for gay men.

“Look, I do find you kind of cute, but I have no fucking idea what you are talking about.  Are you a religious freak?”  At least she was smiling.  She knew what I was talking about.

“Aren’t we all religious freaks?  I know you have a thurible in your room and read the collected works of Richard Hooker every night.  I know you have Robert Gagnon on your mind.”

“Robert Gagnon?  Isn’t he a porn star?”

“Well, he knows a lot about gay sex.  And where to find it in the bible.”

“I’ve never heard anyone use the bible and porn as a pick up line before.  What’s a thurible?”

“You’re playing.”  Or perhaps she was a low church evangelical.  They’re passionate about what they believe, and get right to the point.  None of this ritual gesture business.  They say it when they mean it.

“Wait, weren’t you on American Idol?”

I knew she understood the connections.  Pike.  Women.  The 1979 BCP.  Spong.   The Episcopal Church was dying because of them.  “No.  You watch?”

“Of course!  Doesn’t everyone?  Weekly.”

“It’s like church.”  That might be the cue.  I’d find out exactly where she stood.  Would it be St Mary the Virgin, the Anglo Catholic church in Manhattan?  She didn’t know the rector had gone Episcopal.  Or All Angels, where Bishop Minns once preached the word?  Or Church of the Resurrection?  Or maybe it was that new little Anglican joint down in Midtown.  I had to know.

“Church?  You mean, like, uh, churchy church?  Like God?  Is that what you mean by the bible?”

“Yeah, baby.  Churchy church.  Without … heretics.  Just as the bible says.”  I let heretics slide out of my mouth slowly.

“Heretics, going to … hell.”  I smiled, making eye contact.  Eye contact is crucial for seducing Anglicans.  “Or Apostates.  Whatever turns you on.”

“Well,” her eyes kind of darted to the side,  “I… believe in God, but, um, I just haven’t gotten around to it.  Sometimes I watch Joel Osteen, late.  But… this is very weird to talk about this at a bar.  Why don’t you just ask me for my number.”

“Uh,” I was a bit flustered, taken aback by her directness.  “OK.”

“But generally, don’t use the Anglican thing as a pickup line.  Nobody cares.”

“I just thought…”

“Well, there’s so much harm done in the name of religion.  It seems quaint and sometimes old-fashioned.  Most services are boring.  Old music and desperate people.  Sad.  It could be different, maybe.  But now I just want to par-tay!”  She shook her fist in the air just a little, as one of her friends looked over, checking to see if she needed protection.

“Look I’ll buy you a drink if you just tell me your denomination.”

She smiled.  “Silly.  I’m an Episcopalian.  You don’t recognize me?  I’m your senior warden’s daughter.  Let’s do shots.”

Blog Review

Everyday Citizen muses and explores his life in the Episcopal Church.  Great cartoons!

Rocco Palmo on the Death of Cardinal Dulles.  Links and Eulogies.

Is Dennis a Menace?  Questioning Christian discusses the Dennis Question.   Sharp.  Like Occam.

Thinking Anglicans Counts the Heads of Anglican Curmudgeons North America.  Are there enough to throw a party?  What kind of party?  With purple dresses and lace?  I’d like to know the bishop-clergy ratio.

The Revealer Discusses a Great Music Magazine, the Oxford American.  It’s true.  And they include a CD when you subscribe.

Fr. Tim on Sports.   Baptist sports.

Nick reflects on the Digital Divide.  Liberal vs. Conservative Christians.

Brad Drell has a message to his liberal Episcopal brothers and sisters about leaving or not leaving the church he grew up in.

Anglican Scotist Reviews Professor Ferlo’s How to Read the Bible.

Thinking Economically about the Market at Energetic Procession.  I’m not sure that Capitalism has a heart, of course.

Jesus Loves Richard Cizik

Speak truth to power, Pastor.  Don’t fret about the Pharisees.

Welcome to Samaria.

Evangelical refuses to demonize the Love.

Jim Willis comments:

“I encourage the NAE’s leadership to stay on the path they have chosen and resist the efforts of those who would again seek to narrow the evangelical agenda in unbiblical ways and make it again subservient to a conservative political agenda.”

Because if you are truly a Jesus freak, you won’t be a prostitute for the radical right.