My Like-Dislike Relationship with American Football

 I have a like-dislike relationship with football these days (by which I mean American football). I won't call it a love-hate relationship because it's not that strong. I'm not passionate enough about football to feel that strongly one way or the other. I don't schedule my weekend around the football games I want to watch (although I have been known to schedule based on when a preferred soccer match will be on!) and I don't feel particularly heartbroken if I miss a game by one of the teams I support. However, I do enjoy sitting down on Sunday afternoon and watching a game, even if only absentmindedly while I read the paper or take an on-and-off nap. If I miss a game I do go online to see if my teams won or lost. I used to be much worse and the outcome of the weekend's games often affected my mood going into Monday morning. Given that my team at the time was the Kansas City Chiefs, that made for many a Monday with low spirits. These days I feel disappointed when my favorite teams lose, but I get on with life because I know there are far more important and interesting things in the world.

I am questioning more and more whether I can and should continue to support this sport, even in my relatively passive manner. Several issues prompt my doubt. The very nature of football promotes aggression and violence, albeit in a somewhat controlled manner. I don't object to the competitive nature of the sport. All sports are competitive in some degree. Someone wins and someone loses and within reason that's acceptable. But football isn't just about winning and losing. It's about the physical contact, the aggressive hits and the hard tackles. The fans want this kind of thing. Some have likened it to the Roman gladiatorial games. I don't know that it is quite that extreme, but the fans certainly experience some measure of catharsis watching the spectacle of crashing bodies on the field below (or the screen at home). We take part vicariously in the violence and in doing so, passively or actively celebrate and promote it. Do I really want to support an activity so fundamentally connected with aggression? I'm not sure I do anymore. I'm also not sure what it says about us and our society that we glory in this sport.

Source: http://postgradproblems.com/are-you-ready-for-some-college-football/

Even as we are enjoying the physical clash taking place on the field, those engaging in it are suffering bodily harm that in many cases will damage them for life. The indications that regular physical contact of this nature can result in long-term brain trauma seems fairly strong, strong enough that recently the NFL reached a settlement with a group of former players over the issue (without actually admitting any responsibility, conveniently). Some former players face debilitating brain injuries and some as a result have been driven to suicide. My enjoyment of their sport doesn't make me culpable in their injuries. Ultimately they are responsible for their choice to play and continue playing. But when I choose to watch, I help create the market that makes this sport financially rewarding and therefore help to perpetuate it. I realize that if I stop watching, the game will continue to be played, but my conscience need not bear the burden of supporting an activity that causes lasting harm to those who participate actively in it.

In addition to the issues related to violence and the physical harm the game brings, I am also disturbed by the sexism latent not only in the game itself but in the surrounding culture. I recognize that many women enjoy football and, in perhaps a paradoxical manner, am glad they do. Football shouldn't be the domain of only men as long as it continues to be played. Yet football (and related sports such as rugby) remains more male oriented than perhaps any other major sport. In other sports we see women's leagues being formed and growing. Although their popularity is not yet anywhere near that of the corresponding men's sport, we now have professional women's basketball and soccer. Women can play softball (although I fail to understand why they can't just play baseball), tennis, golf and even hockey. But women playing football remains a rare exception. On the one hand I would commend women for having the intelligence to avoid involvement in a sport that will, ultimately, harm them physically. At the same time the feminist in me revolts at the exclusion of women from this highly popular sport. And no, I don't count the lingerie football league as a true women's alternative. In fact, it's just another indicator of the underlying sexism in the sport. The only place we regularly find women involved in football at any level is on the sideline as cheerleaders. Without wanting to insult cheerleading, which can be a legitimate activity for both men and women (the fact that no NFL team I am aware of has male cheerleaders should tell us something), I find this very degrading to women. It insults me as a feminist and as a sports fan.

Source: http://postgradproblems.com/are-you-ready-for-some-college-football/

When you combine the exclusion of women from the game with the sexist attitudes that predominate in the advertising that fuels the football industry, it becomes apparent how women are viewed by a large portion of the football-watching world. Beer commercials, which provide a significant portion of sports revenue (I have no numbers on how much) regularly appall me with their blatant sexism (which, unfortunately, is not limited to commercials aired during football games, but that's a different topic.) As I said earlier, I fully affirm the right of women not only to watch but to play football. But I wonder why any woman wants to watch a sport that so fully excludes her from anything but observing and often reduces her to a sex-object to sell the sport and related products.

Finally, I question whether I want to support a sport that has come to pervert many educational institutions through corruption and scandal. I started reading today the article published by Sports Illustrated this week on the program at Oklahoma State University. I haven't even finished the article yet and already I am appalled. I would say I'm shocked, except that we have heard similar stories far too often in the past few years. It seems like every season we hear of another major university that, in the pursuit of football glory, has allowed and even fostered systems that promote winning over all else. Even programs that remain within the generous boundaries of NCAA rules still cause me to cringe when I read of the exorbitant amounts of money poured into them, even while academic programs at many universities struggle to find adequate funding. (I recognize that many athletic departments are effectively supported by their football program, but this does not necessarily make it right that so much money goes into football.) When we put so much significance on the success of a school's football program, we should not be surprised when rules are bent, ignored and broken in order to achieve that success. Do I want to support this system?

Yet even after saying all this I admit that I still enjoy a good football game. I still want to cheer for my alma-mater to beat the in-state and conference foes. In fact, somewhat ironically, I will be attending my first college football game this weekend for my father's birthday. I'm conflicted. I have a like-dislike relationship with this sport. My response at present will be to wean myself from watching football. I won't refuse to watch it if it's on, but I want to choose not to watch it when I have control of the remote. That won't be easy. It has become a sort of default behavior for me on Sunday afternoon over the years. But surely I can find better ways to invest my Sabbath day? I won't condemn or judge those who choose to watch football and cheer for their favorite teams, but I would encourage those of us who do to stop and think about what our support of this sport says about ourselves and our culture.

Love is a Decision

Each Christmas we Christ-followers affirm to the world that in the birth, live, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ God expresses love in the highest, most complete form ever. Although not usually recited in Advent, the words of John 3:16 are surely appropriate here as well: “God so loved the world...” I like the words of the song sung by Michael W. Smith:

Love has come to walk among us

Christ the Lord is born this night.

Jesus, the God-person, demonstrates in practical, tangible ways what God's love looks like. God chooses to engage with the world. Jesus interacts with people, not shunning or rejecting them. He breaks down barriers, smashes cultural and religious taboos, all to demonstrate love. Jesus defines love for us.

But I'm not Jesus. I hope that ever so slowly I am being transformed into his image, but I'm not there yet. I don't love perfectly. I don't even love all that well. Years ago, when my then-fiancée and I were preparing for our wedding, we attended a series of pre-marital sessions based on a series called “Love is a decision.” Honestly, I don't remember a lot from the series, but I remember that basic point: Love is a choice. It's not primarily a feeling, though at times it is that. It's not primarily an emotion, though that may be involved as well. Love is a decision. It's a choice. Every day in every situation where I interact with others, be it in direct contact or virtually, I choose whether to act in love or not. Katie Axelson says it quite well when she writes “Love is a verb. It's how we respond both in favorable and unfavorable situations. It's a constant choice. A deciding moment.”

Faced with the brokenness of this world God could have chosen to scrap it all and start over again. God could have chosen to reboot the program, so to speak. But God, out of her very nature, chose to engage with this hurting world. God chose to enter into the brokenness, to take on our flesh, to encounter our pain, suffering, oppression, hurt and everything else in order to demonstrate love to us.

Love has come to walk among us.

Now that Jesus has returned to heaven until some point in the future, we have the choice whether to continue to live in that love or not. We first have the choice whether we will embrace the love offered to us by God. Then we face the decision to love one another. Sometimes that's easy to do. Some people are easy to love. Others, not so much. And some seem to be downright impossible. But Jesus didn't say we could love only those we like. He told us to love our enemies. He taught us to embrace those who were different from us. He showed us that love means breaking down barriers, surrendering power and privilege, affirming the dignity of those around us (as well as those who may be physically quite far away from us.)

God's love is an amazing, powerful thing. I cannot begin to say that I fully grasp or experience it, much less live in it day by day. But without that love, I cannot love my neighbor as God has shown me in Jesus. I don't have it in me. I can make a decent effort. I can demonstrate love, to a point. But without being renewed and filled with God's love, my tank will run empty in a very short time. At the same time, God's love isn't just something for me to fill up with and keep to myself. God invites me to be a conduit for his love to the rest of the world. We are the hands and feet of God, the expression of God's love to the world around us. To quote again from Katie Axelson, “When we call ourselves followers of Christ, His love should radiate from each one of us.”

Love is a decision. God chose to love the world. Will I choose to do the same?

Christmas - A Time to Reflect on our Shopping Habits

No sooner have we finished our Thanksgiving dinner than the invasion of the Christmas shopping season begins. This year as we are painfully aware many stores moved their opening times back into Thursday evening to capture still more sales. This blatant consumerism offended myself and many others, but apparently didn't stop many people from rushing to the stores to get that great deal. I shouldn't be surprised really, because consumerism is one of our American idols, although it receives precious little attention from the pulpits of our churches. It does strike me as extremely sad that a country which so warmly embraces and affirms a celebration of Thanksgiving follows it immediately with an orgy of buying more stuff.

In some years past I have adopted a quite negative attitude toward gift-giving. I would argue that it detracts from the “true meaning” of Christmas, that it promotes greed and consumption and really runs counter to the very message of the Gospel. In many ways it does. But I now look at it differently and recognize that this season of gift-giving can be a time of blessing, a time when by promoting giving we do emphasize a very positive quality. By refusing to give or receive gifts, I may very well rob myself and others of the joy that can come from giving. By adopting an anti-gift mentality, do I become like Scrooge?

This year I want to be more open and free in giving and receiving gifts. This does not mean I should go into debt to buy gifts or that I need to buy multiple gifts for everyone—including my family. But it can be a time to express my appreciation and love for others by giving a significant item or two. I want to recapture the joy of giving that I have lost in my tight-fistedness over the years.

Because Christmas does include gift-giving, it presents a great opportunity to stop and think about our purchasing habits. What are we buying? Where did it come from? What does our quest to pay the lowest price mean for those who produce the items we buy? What does it mean for the environment? We should be conversing about these things as a society and certainly as followers of Jesus Christ. We shouldn't engage in mindless consumerism, mistakenly thinking that our shopping habits have nothing to do with morality or justice. They do, very much so.

I doubt that any of us can completely abstain from shopping. If nothing else we need food to live and things do wear out and need replaced. But I greatly admire Danielle at From Two to One for her goal of not buying anything new this year. I also appreciate her desire to move beyond tokenism in buying goods that are fair trade or support various ministries. We do well to consciously think about how we can purchase gifts and everyday items in ways that benefit the producers and promote sustainable economic practices. We can look for vendors who sell meaningful items and not just cute trinkets so that by our shopping we affirm the value and dignity of those who produce the items. PerfectNumber628, on her blog Tell Me Why The World is Weird, correctly reminds us that fair trade shouldn't be about cute and adorable. It should be about changing the way we shop and the way we produce so that the entire transaction becomes one that affirms worth, affirms dignity, creating value for both producer and consumer and at the same time respecting the world in which we live. I really appreciate these two authors and many others who are helping us to think more carefully about our shopping habits and offering us alternatives that go beyond cute, adorable tokens that we really don't need.

Of course shopping this way does take more effort than simply looking for the greatest deal on Amazon.com or at the local Walmart. It may mean at times choosing not to buy. It also requires that we shop realistically and recognize that unfortunately not everything can yet be found from fair-trade, sustainable, dignity-affirming producers. Rather than judging others for their purchases, we can encourage them to think about the implications and impact of their purchase so that perhaps next time they (or we!) will consider what they buy more carefully and make changes where possible. We will not change the economic structure of our culture or globally by our changing our shopping habits, but we can each make a small but significant impact as we carefully spend the money God has provided for us. We won't eliminate the consumerism of Christmas in America, but in small ways we can transform it for good.

I'd love to hear how you are creatively transforming not only your Christmas shopping but your overall buying habits. What creative ideas and dignity-affirming vendors have you found?

Thankful, not Greedy

As I begin this Thanksgiving Day, I want to stop and reflect on the many reasons I have to be thankful.

• For my wonderful wife, an Eshet Chayil (see Rachel Held Evans' blog if you don't know what that means!), whose talents go far beyond what most people recognize. We've enjoyed a long and memorable journey together and I hope will have many, many more ahead!
• For my daughter, who continues to develop her unique personality and to grow in maturity with each passing year. The time is coming all-too-quickly when she will launch into the world on her own, but she will always be my precious girl.
• For my son, who entered the challenging teen years this year. He's amazingly smart and even as a teenager still at times shows that tenderness of heart that leads him to wrap his father in a hug or cuddle up to his mother.
• For my parents. I am so thankful that we have the opportunity to live close to them and enjoy lots of time together during this period of our lives. I'm thankful that they continue to enjoy good health in their retirement years and have the time and energy to be actively engaged with us.
• For the other members of my family, both near and far. It's nice to have a family that you enjoy getting together with, even if we don't do it as often as we'd like.
• For faithful and dear friends, both near and far. I'm particularly grateful for the friends I've had the privilege of getting to know all over the world, who have broadened my perspective and enriched my life in so many ways. And for new friends who continue to stretch me and keep me growing, especially the many women of valor I know both in person and virtually.
• For the ability to sit here in my comfortable home and write this on my computer to share with all of you.
• For the fact that my refrigerator has food and my cupboards are far from bare.
• That I can open the faucet and have fresh, clean, drinkable water arrive instantly.
• For my own health and for the great doctors I've met this year who have helped me with various health issues.

I could add many more items to the list because God has provided for me and my family in so many ways. I appreciate that my country has chosen to set aside a day to stop and give thanks each year. That's a very healthy and rather unusual practice. Of course we don't want to limit our thankfulness to a single day, but to cultivate an attitude of thanksgiving each month and each day, because the very reasons I just listed for giving thanks continue throughout the year, if I choose to remember them.

It is good to give thanks.

Even as I give thanks this year though, my heart grieves. I grieve because the very culture that chooses to focus today on giving thanks, will then immediately turn around and engage in an orgy of consumption and greed that should shame all of us. Black Friday is bad enough, but now we see the shopping frenzy pushed back into Thanksgiving day itself. I am, frankly, appalled.

But I'm not surprised, because the real god of America is consumption. We pause briefly to give thanks but our whole society is oriented toward getting more stuff. Our economy depends on it. As much as most of us would adamantly deny it, we are greedy people. The stores play on that. We could stop the creep of consumerism into Thanksgiving day by simply choosing en masse to not shop today (and for that matter on Black Friday as well). It's like the old question, “What if they threw a war and no one came?” – What if they threw a big sale and no one shopped? Unfortunately I seriously doubt that will be the case. We're too addicted to getting the next great deal. Does God weep over our behaviour?

Interestingly enough, in all the sermons I heard and articles I read during the recent election on what it means to be a “biblical voter,” not once did I hear someone talk about issues of greed and consumerism. Are these not issues of righteousness as well? Surely they are, but they hit too close to home and to take them seriously would mean we actually have to change our lifestyles. It's far easier to post a statement on Facebook decrying the creep of greed into Thanksgiving day than to choose a lifestyle that rejects it altogether. As I write this I recognize that my finger points back at myself. Although I won't be out this evening or tomorrow engaging in the shopping frenzy, I could choose to buy less and be content with what I have as well. It doesn't mean never buying anything or refusing to engage in the economy, but it does mean changing my attitude, shopping less often and more wisely and turning away from greed.

So on this Thanksgiving day I want to look around me and give thanks for all that I have and not stray into thinking about what I wish I had but don't. If I'm going to wish for anything, may it be that the millions and millions of people in this world who don't enjoy some of the basic luxuries I have (such as clean water and daily food) would have these things. That's a goal worth working toward - are there any stores offering a special on that today?

12 Commandments

Last week, while reading the submissions to the Faith and Feminism blog carnival hosted by Danielle at From Two to One, I discovered a great blog: All Things Beautiful. As part of her participation in a blog linkup related to The Happiness Project Alyssa shared recently 12 commandments she wrote to help her focus more positively on life. Although I am not reading the book or participating in the blog linkup, I really liked Alyssa's twelve commandments and decided to write twelve statements of my own. In addition to prompting the idea, I appreciate the twelve statements Alyssa wrote for herself, some of which found their way into my own list.

To me these twelve statements (I like that word a bit more than commandments) remind me how to live in order to experience a greater level of happiness – or really more joy (although I recognize that the two words are not entirely interchangeable) in life. No matter how much some people might try to convince me that I should, I don't wake up every morning with a rosy outlook. I don't feel like “praising the Lord” every moment. Probably this is my own personal shortcoming, but the harsh reality is that life can be difficult and some days really suck. On such days, it is really helpful to remind myself of a few basic principles that can help change my outlook. They are not magical incantations and don't guarantee that my perspective on life will suddenly change. But by writing them down I can look back at them when unhappiness threatens to bog me down.

Unfortunately I don't have a great notebook to write my statements in like Alyssa does, so I'll just do my best with the formatting capabilities of my blog engine. Now, presented in no particular order, here are my twelve commandments:

Let others know they are loved.

Take one thing at a time

.

Celebrate beauty!

Be true to yourself.

Learn something new.

Savor the moment.

Look beyond yourself.

Serve others.

Give your worries to God.

Be gracious and compassionate.

Take time to listen.

Take time to photograph the flowers.

I should write these out and hang them over my desk as well, so I'll reflect on them throughout the week. It's not an exhaustive list—I could have added a number of other statements—but I think they give me a good starting place.

What do you think? What twelve statements would you write for yourself? What would help you to stay positive when life tries to drag you down?

Not the Paramount Issue

A couple of weeks ago in a men's Bible study I attend, the leader of the group that week shared about a line he was not willing to cross. He said that a “line-in-the-sand” political issue for him was whether a politician opposed abortion or not and stated that he could not vote for one who did. I can respect that, even though in the context of the passage we were discussing that week (Esther 3), I felt it was rather a stretch to tie this topic into the conversation. At one point in my life I would have adamantly said the same thing. A politician's views on abortion became the single issue on which I would cast my ballot for or against him or her.

I no longer think that way. I no longer believe that one can make a single issue THE deciding factor in supporting or opposing a politician. The world is much too complex for that and the political arena has too many factors involved to make one issue the ultimate criteria. Am I being more godly or ethical to support a politician who opposes abortion but pursues wars which kill thousands of non-combatants? Is a politician more moral if she or he opposes abortion but supports policies that deprive the poor of support? Morality involves a wide range of issues and concerns and cannot be reduced to a single topic. Judging a politician simply by his or her views on abortion is simplistic and naïve.

Interestingly, someone pointed out to me that the Republican party, which has made a big point of their opposition to abortion, has in fact done very little to act on that plank in their platform. As evidence, this person pointed to the period in the Bush era when the Republicans had clear control of Congress and the White House and could have pushed through just about any anti-abortion bill they wanted. In the end they did little, despite their claims to be against abortion. The person who called this to my attention suggested that the Republicans recognize that having this plank in their platform works to their political advantage by attracting the single-issue anti-abortion voters, but if they were to actually achieve their goal, they would no longer have the uncritical support of that group of voters. It is to their political advantage to say there are opposed to abortion but to do little to work against it.

Unfortunately I think that lately this has been less the case, at least in many state legislatures. We see an increasing number of bills that seek to limit access to abortion as a means to eliminate it. We see waiting periods and forced “counseling” sessions and even had the possibility of a woman being forced to have a vaginal ultrasound. I think most of these measures are ridiculous and coercive. They do not respect a woman's individual rights, but treat her like an imbecile who is incapable of making an informed, personal decision. For this reason I oppose such measures.

Despite what the reader may think at this point, I do not favor abortion. I think it should be eliminated, but not by legal restriction. I think it should be eliminated by providing an environment in which women have better choices. This may include better adoption support, better support during pregnancy and after delivery for all women but particularly for those who find themselves in difficult circumstances, unable to adequately care for this new baby. I support the use of contraceptives so that women (and men with them) have more control over the timing of pregnancies. I want to see a culture in which women are not threatened, coerced or forced in any manner – psychologically, physically or otherwise – into sexual activity. Let's do all we can to eliminate “unwanted” pregnancies so that abortion becomes essentially a procedure used only in rare cases. We need to affirm the value of life holistically, including the lives of women.

I want to vote based on a broader ethical platform, one that recognizes that the Kingdom of God encompasses a wide range of issues and choices. For example, I'm not going to automatically support a politician who opposes abortion but promotes the exploitation of our environment. I'm not going to support a pair of candidates who oppose abortion but push for a budgetary policy that guts support to society's weakest and most vulnerable while cutting taxes for the wealthiest. These are also moral issues and I can no longer say that abortion trumps them all. The issues are too complex for that.

Abortion is certainly a political topic and if it is significant to you, then you should factor that into your voting decisions. However, I encourage you to think about other important issues as well and recognize that by supporting an anti-abortion politician (call them pro-life if you prefer), you may at the same time be lending your support to other issues that are also of significance to a voter who wants to see the values of the Kingdom furthered in our society.

Romney Shows His True Colors

I have not supported Mitt Romney to this point, but his choice of Paul Ryan as a running mate solidifies my opposition to his candidacy. With this choice, Romney clearly demonstrates that his path to restoring America will come at the expense of those who can least afford it. As the chief author of the GOP's budget plan – Path to Prosperity, Ryan stands out as a staunch advocate for what Jim Wallis has described as “an immoral document.” This budget proposal and the principles that Ryan stand for run counter to fundamental principles of Scripture. God calls us to speak up for and defend the rights of the poor and needy, the widows and orphans. God does not call us to gut programs that help the poor while extending tax breaks to society's wealthiest members. For this reason the Republican budget plan authored by Ryan and the principles on which he formulated that document are immoral.

Unfortunately many other believers in this country will not see things this way. They have bought into a gospel that exalts wealth and success. Although not all would say it as clearly and directly as this, the fundamental American gospel holds that wealth is an indication of God's blessing and poverty an indication of God's curse. Consequently, those who have been blessed by God should be allowed to enjoy that blessing as they desire and the poor obviously just need to get right with God and get working so that they too can enjoy God's blessing. In adopting such a worldview, explicitly or implicitly, we forget or ignore the many injunctions in Scripture to care for the needs of the poor, to defend the cause of the weak and powerless. Yes, we need to do that first and foremost in our personal lives and in our churches, but we also need to advocate and strive to create governmental structures that do so as well. We will not achieve a just society simply by relying on the philanthrophy of individuals and private organizations. We need to reevaluate our understanding of the gospel message and speak out in defense of the poor, weak and marginalized.

I recognize quite clearly that this country needs to make some serious adjustments if we want to continue to have a healthy future. But those adjustments should not come at the cost of society's most vulnerable. We need to restrain government spending, but we can't do it primarily or exclusively on the backs of those who can least afford it. While advocating for cuts to welfare programs, Representative Ryan would expand military spending. While cutting programs to protect the environment he would extend tax cuts to the wealthy. His priorities are out of line and any progress he and Romney might achieve in reducing the deficit in this way would come at too high a cost. Yes, we need to make some hard choices as a country, but the ones offered by Romney and Ryan are not going to lead us in the right direction.

I wish I could say that President Obama offers a great alternative. Unfortunately that is not the case. The Democratic party has its own significant weaknesses. I wish there were a realistic alternative, a third party that would stand for a broad, Scripturally-sound, just society – a sort of Christian Centrist Party, although I'm hesitant to put the word Christian into the name of a party because it would be sure to be abused and misused. I am intrigued by the platform of the current Green Party candidates Stein-Honkala and may choose to throw my support behind them. But I simply cannot support a Romney-Ryan ticket that would attempt to right the American ship by reducing or eliminating support for those who most need it. To do that would be, in my mind, fundamentally unjust and immoral.

Is it moral to eat bananas?

I took a break from blogging the last two weeks. The first ten days or so I was entirely disconnected from the on-line world. And it was so great, so refreshing. I need to make a point of doing this regularly – except that my job requires me to be on line, so I guess I'll have to schedule it for vacation periods.

Lately I've been contemplating whether eating bananas is morally tenable. This may sound like a strange question, so allow me to offer an explanation. During my time off line I read Julie Clawson's book Everyday Justice. I discovered Clawson's blog not too long ago and really like her perspective on justice as a central part of the life of faith. In this book she looks at how some of our daily choices have global impact and challenges the reader to consider what steps she or he could take to begin to live a more just life.

I came away from this book both encouraged and challenged. I am encouraged because I see that steps my wife and I have taken recently – as well as some choices we have long practiced – correspond to her suggestions. We've made some healthy steps to living justly. We're seeking to reduce our consumption, purchase more local and healthy foods, live more simply, reduce or eliminate pesticides and chemicals from our daily lives and many other steps. We've actively recycled for years. Not doing so, especially in a city such as ours where we can recycle so many things through the city's curbside recycling program – seems immoral. We are growing in our awareness that the life of faith includes caring for the other members of God's creation as well as for the non-human aspects of creation. Readers of this blog have followed my journey this year as I've grown in this awareness.

But reading Clawson's book reminded me that there's still far more I can do. I appreciate that Clawson doesn't write to lay a guilt-trip on the reader. She encourages each of us to begin making small changes in our lifestyle, recognizing that most of us cannot radically change our entire lives overnight. She also recognizes that there are limits to what each individual or family can and is willing to do. Repeatedly Clawson asks us to consider who pays the true cost for the various products we consume. She didn't leave me feeling guilty, but did give me plenty of ideas to consider for further changes.

Which brings me back to my question: is it moral for me to eat bananas? There are various facets to this question. The first concerns the manner in which bananas are grown. As Clawson examines in her book (though not specifically concerning bananas), I need to consider whether the bananas I consume were grown and sold to me in a way that values the dignity of the growers. Or is that super-low price at the local supermarket reflective of the meager amount that the farmers were paid, while the multinational fruit company made large profits? I must also consider whether in the process of growing the bananas the farmers used toxic pesticides (by compulsion or otherwise) which harmed themselves and their local environment. Who is paying the true cost of those bananas? If in my desire to pay a low price I am forcing the farmers to pay a high one, then eating those bananas could be an immoral act.

There are various ways to avoid passing the cost of my bananas to the growers, but these involve fair-trade and organic farming. We often try to purchase organically-grown bananas at our local store, which is a positive step, one I believe Clawson would affirm. But I'm still left with a nagging doubt, because no matter how much benefit the grower sees for my organically-grown bananas, I live in a place where bananas do not naturally grow. In fact I live a long way from such places. Which means any bananas sold in my local store have traveled a long way to get here. This means that lots of fuel has been used to transport them, contributing to global climate change and environmental degradation. My purchase of fair-trade, organically-grown bananas may be a more ethical choice and bring more benefit to the growers, but it still comes with a price tag that I am not immediately paying. But if I stop purchasing bananas altogether and many others chose to do so as well, we could eliminate the market for such bananas and therefore the source of income for banana growers, leaving them unemployed. What is a banana-eater to do?

I don't have an answer to this question, and Clawson doesn't offer one either. I don't fault her for this, because it reminds us that ethical decisions are multifaceted and rarely have simply solutions. I will try to purchase organically-grown bananas and look for those that have traveled less distance, but I cannot say that I will never purchase regular bananas from the supermarket. I am thinking more about the impact of my purchases though, which I consider to be a healthy first step. Living justly is not a matter of a few simple adjustments. It requires rethinking and reorienting our entire lifestyle, which takes time and deliberate effort. I encourage you to read Clawson's book and consider what steps you can take to begin to live your life more justly.  

24 Addict

My name is Andrew and I am addicted to 24. That's 24 as in the television series starring Kiefer Sutherland as Jack Bauer. I don't like that I am addicted to this show. If you've never watched the show, it's hard to explain. It's like one adrenalin rush after another, each moment and episode waiting for the next tense situation to be resolved. Although I resent it, I have to acknowledge that the writers and producers have created an addictive masterpiece – a show that hooks viewers and compels them to keep watching throughout the season because you just have to see how Jack gets out of each situation – each time wondering how he can possibly survive.


I resent my addiction not only because it keeps drawing me back to watch the show. That's bad enough. But the contents of the show alternately stimulate and appal me. 24 glorifies violence not by making it look spectacular, but by making it look commonplace. We have seen so many depictions of torture in various forms, seen so many sadistic people – terrorists and those fighting them – use means and methods that should utterly sicken us, that we have become numb to them. Which in turn means that in order to keep that adrenaline rush flowing in the viewers, the producers have to keep raising the level of violence. The first season was brilliant, with events building to a single traumatic climax in which all the various threads were resolved, with one new provocation left dangling as a lead to a second season (a lead which, in the end, the producers made nothing of although they did go on to make several more seasons.) Since then we've seen nuclear bombs detonated first in the desert, later in Los Angeles itself. As we started the latest season my wife and I joked that we should keep a body count. We didn't and I'm not sure we could have, given how many people are killed in an average episode. As I said earlier though, it's not just that people are killed, it's the way in which they are killed. Oh for the old days of the original A Team, when people were blown across the screen routinely yet there was precious little blood or actual dying portrayed. With 24 we get graphic displays of pain, suffering and death.


The frequency and graphic nature of the killing in the show is bad enough. The depiction of torture is worse. Introduced in the second season, it has become a common aspect of the show's storyline. Although not a part of every episode, it does seem to come up in every season. I'd like to think that the writers want to open the eyes of viewers to the extent to which torture is used not only by terrorists but by those we consider “the good guys.” If that were their goal, I might feel more at ease about it. I'd like to see a more vocal protest against the way in which our government, particularly under the previous administration, adopted torture as an acceptable form of investigation. Unfortunately I don't really sense that the writers of 24 really include torture as an awareness-raising device. The frequent depiction of it serves more to numb the viewer to what is happening. The more I watch, the more desensitized I become. I have some friends who stopped watching the show over this issue (and perhaps others). I admire and applaud them. Unfortunately I am an addict and can't seem to break the hold this drug has on me.


One final aspect of the show greatly troubles me. In every season we always find one or more corrupt people on the inside. This could just be a useful plot element, but with each season I find myself increasingly angry over the people who put self-interest over the welfare of society. Worse still are those who believe they are putting society's best interests first by perpetrating crimes and murders. I suppose this type of thing occurs in many television series. I never watched West Wing, but I can imagine that you found similar plot occurrences there. But in 24 these acts of self-interest or false national interest result in significant tragedies and losses of life and I find it heart-wrenching to watch it unfold. Being a “good” series, in the end the “bad” guys always end up getting something resembling a just reward, but the journey to that point twists me up inside.


As I said, I'm an addict. I want to turn it off, but I keep watching. Since we're still catching up with past seasons on Netflix, some nights we can watch a couple episodes back-to-back. But I don't go to bed feeling a healthy catharsis. I go to bed feeling troubled by what I've seen without any idea or sense that I can do anything about it. It's like I've been mainlining adrenaline for an hour or two and gotten an emotional rush, but in the end it has left me empty, unsettled and dissatisfied. So why do I keep watching?


I know many who really enjoy this show and I'd love to hear any thoughts on redeeming aspects of it, if there are any. As for those who have wisely chosen to cut off their addiction, I'd like to hear what aspect(s) of the show prompted you to make the break.

Even Superheros Can't Do Everything

While watching the movie Hancock with my children the other night – an entertaining though not outstanding anti-superhero movie – I thought to myself that I would not want to be a superhero. It seems to me that, regardless of one's superpower, the hero can never really counteract all the evil in the world. I don't know of a superhero who can simultaneously be in multiple places, yet evil acts occur all the time in places near and far. So how is a superhero to choose which events to respond to and which ones to ignore? If I had superpowers, this dilemma could potentially paralyze me. At the very least it would leave me with enormous feelings of guilt because for every good deed I accomplished I would know that there were any number of other potential good deeds I couldn't do.

Although I am not a superhero, I still wrestle with this dilemma. I am aware of far more situations where I would like to help than I can possibly respond to. I don't have the physical, financial, time or other resources to do all the good deeds that I would like to. I try not to let this paralyze me, choosing to do that which I am able rather than throwing up my hands in despair, but at times the burden of what I wish I could do but can't does weigh on my mind. In some degree I wish I were a superhero so that perhaps I could at least increase my ability to do good in this world.

When I feel this burden of my limitations, perhaps it would benefit me to think again of Jesus. Although he was God and had potentially all the powers of his deity (godness) available to him, when he walked the earth he to some degree limited those powers. Although he healed many people, he didn't heal them all, neither those who were physically near at hand nor those at a distant. Was he aware of the sufferings of people outside of the place he was at any given moment? Did the injustices of the world weigh on him as he walked the dusty roads? Did the limitations of his humanity place a heavy burden on his mind and spirit? I don't see a clear answer to these questions in the Bible. What I do see is Jesus responding to some needs but not all. Surely he does not ask more of us than he himself was able to do.

Confronted with my own limitations I should also remember that I am not alone. I am not the only one who can respond to the needs of the world, not the only one who can speak out against injustice and offer healing and comfort to the wounded and suffering. This job is not mine alone. The body of Christ known as the Church has been called to this task. In some areas the Church responds quite well. We give very generously to meet certain needs. Unfortunately others remain hidden, unknown or simply unpopular. I think of the response much of the evangelical church in America had when AIDS first came on the scene. Rather than demonstrating compassion and care, some chose to judge and condemn. Thankfully we have seen improvement in this, although I still see too many instances where AIDS sufferers are treated as pariahs, responsible for their own misfortune. This is only one example. When it comes to suffering, need, injustice and other expressions of evil in the world, is it the place of the Church to judge whether those enduring evil “deserve” it or not? Or should we simply do all we can to defeat evil where possible and where not possible to at the very least offer comfort and assistance to its victims?

I don't want to be a person who lives content in his own little world, oblivious and unconcerned about the needs around me and the injustice in the world. I cannot respond to all of it, but I can respond to some of it. I can ask God to lead me by the Spirit to know where and how I should act. I can regularly evaluate my use of my time, energy, finances and other resources and ask where I might give more. Then, when I have done that which I am able to do, I need to leave the other things to God and not feel the pressure to be a superhero. Because even superheros can't address all the evil in the world.

Lost Passion

For some time now I feel like I have been just going through the motions when it comes to the spiritual life. This is particularly the situation with attending church. I have been a regular church-goer for as long as I can remember. Of course I've missed days, even consecutive Sundays at times and I have had times when I went although I didn't really feel the desire. I can remember one period in my life when our church situation was so bad that I would have rather done almost anything than go to church. That   situation resulted less from a lack of spiritual motivation in myself and more from a very negative spiritual situation at the church we attended at that time. Eventually we did leave, though perhaps we should have done so long before we did. Neither my wife nor I give up easily – she is particularly tenacious, sometimes to a fault – and when it comes to leaving a worship community we both agree that it is not something to be done lightly. 


In my current situation I cannot say that our worship community has nearly the negative spiritual environment that the earlier one did. But I'm not fully comfortable there either. I'm not comfortable with some of the positions the church has on some issues, particularly their view of women in ministry. I'm also not comfortable with the strong inclination to a conservative social and politic agenda that I see in the members of the church and in the leadership. I've joked about putting a pro-Obama sticker on my car just to see what the rest of the church would do (and been told by my wife in no uncertain terms that this will never happen because she will not allow it!) More often than not I find the 45-minute sermons overly long and not engaging. However, there are many wonderful people in this church, people who love God and are trying to serve God as best they understand how to do this. I read about the abusive church situations that many people come out of and I realize that I cannot speak of this church environment as abusive. But I don't feel fully at peace there anymore. I see that I have changed and am changing and that I am no longer in sync with this community. So I keep attending, but mostly out of a sense of obligation and duty.


My wife and I have talked about whether we should look for another worship community. We've even got some ideas and may visit them in the coming months. But inertia works against us. We keep doing what we've done, keep going where we've gone, because we know that place and we know those people. We may feel different from them, but we know them and, so far at least, they haven't rejected our differentness.


This may seem like a trivial concern to some. Or it may seem like an easy, straightforward decision. If only it were. To continue where we are is at the same time familiar and easy and yet leaves me with a lot of internal tension. To look elsewhere leaves me feeling that I have betrayed our current church and am communicating rejection to the people we know there. Not to mention that I don't look forward to the idea of looking for a different church home. At what point is it appropriate to move on? At what point do the issues become significant enough to change? How long should I stick it out and work through the tensions that come with being different than those around me?


What if I took a sabbatical from church attendance? Would that mean I've stopped being a faithful Christian? What would others think? Would I risk never returning?


I wrestle with questions such as these all the time and don't seem to be making any headway toward resolving them. Most of the time I go to church on Sunday mornings, but often I feel rather hypocritical as I sit in the chair, ostensibly listening to the sermon while actually I'm trying to keep my mind from wandering. I prod my son to keep him awake, feeling guilty as I do because I recognize that I'm fighting the same thing. I want to be excited about being in God's worship community again. I want to embrace being in fellowship with God's people. I want to have renewed passion for worship (recognizing that this goes far beyond the issue of church attendance). But at the moment I mostly feel apathetic, uncertain and unmotivated. I know intellectually that the church service isn't really about me and what I get out of it anyway, but if I don't feel like I meet God there, if  I don't feel like being there draws me into renewed relationship with God, then what purpose does it serve?


It seems I have more questions than answers at present. I plod onward, carried forward by inertia. But oh, how I long for some real passion. But is passion even what I really need?

Down We Go: Embracing Downward Mobility

When I began to read Kathy Escobar's book Down We Go: Living Into the Wild Ways of Jesus my heart immediately resonated with her message. In fact, I would say it is not her message at all but the message of the Gospel, the call to join Jesus in identifying with the outcast, the marginalized, the powerless and voiceless. It is the call to authentic relationship, to honest and open vulnerability, to giving away power instead of accumulating and clinging to it. I have heard this Gospel message before, but over the years it has easily been lost or buried in the voices around me that proclaim a different Gospel, one that calls us to an upward path. Kathy describes it this way:

“For years, I had been taught that, with enough prayer, scripture and Christian fellowship, I wouldn't struggle. This ascent theology definitely catalyzed my secular longings to 'rise above' and 'make it to that place where I wouldn't have to struggle anymore'. However, I discovered I couldn't reconcile this idea with the realities of my own story and the stories of so many others.”

For an alternative Kathy looked to the Beatitudes as a pattern for the Jesus life. This pattern, she saw, calls us to welcome pain, to honor doubt, to give away power and privilege, to practice equality and remove boundaries rather than raising them, to demonstrate love, mercy, compassion and justice rather than judgment, condemnation, and to live authentic lives rather than trying to present an image that we've got it all together, that life with Jesus is, as the old sacchariny-sweet song said: “Every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before.” That's a nice sentiment, but it's not the reality many—maybe most—people live.

The Beatitudes mess with your life, Kathy says. They don't make sense in our world and in our contemporary culture.

“Success, war, vengeance, power and strength are the guiding principles of our day. Humility, gentleness, desperation, spiritual poverty, advocating for justice and being persecuted for standing on the side of the oppressed are sure to make us inconvenienced, challenged and humbled.”

Unfortunately much of the contemporary Church, especially the conservative evangelical American church, has effectively embraced the story of power and success—even in churches that do not advocate a prosperity Gospel. While we often seek to minister “to” the poor, we generally live apart and above them, reaching down to them from our positions of power and privilege. (More on that later as we examine other chapters in the book.) We have excluded people more than we have included, directly or indirectly communicating to people that they cannot really be “in” until they change and become like us. And in some cases, such as with women, we've basically said they can never really be equal because, well, because they don't fit our image of what it means to be a Christian. They really aren't qualified to lead and their stories don't have a place in our churches.

I'm realizing more and more how wrong we are in this. We've emphasized power and control, comfort and security. As a white male from a middle class background I have benefited from and by choice or by passive non-choice have perpetuated this system. I've been wrong to do so and now repent of my choices and failures to act and am seeking to change my course to the downwardly-mobile Jesus life that Kathy has called to my attention. But the change is not easy and it's not an overnight one. Like Kathy I would say “Embedded in my DNA is a desire for clean, neat, tidy, and 'successful'.” Like her I am kicking, screaming and resisting this downward momentum, largely because I'm scared. I'm scared to follow a path that tells me that the things the world (and often the church) say are valuable have no value in the Kingdom of God. I'm scared to encounter the poverty of others, to enter the place of the outcast, the marginalized, the powerless and voiceless. I don't want to surrender my position of power and privilege.

Nonetheless this downwardly-mobile life calls me. It calls me because it leads me to become the person I want to be. I resonate with Kathy's description:

“I want to be a person of humility, willing to give up my safety and comfort for the sake of others. I want to be a person who risks, engaging in the dangerous work of living the Bible instead of only learning about it. I want to be a person of hope, sacrificing my current circumstances to participate in building a better future. I want to be a person of courage, boldly practicing love.”

Kathy herself is much further along on this journey than I am and she acknowledges that still for her it is not always easy. She admits that the view from below is not always beautiful. “Yes,” she says, “sometimes it definitely stinks down here. But I've learned to really love the smell.” I hope that I will learn to as well.

How about you? How do you respond to the invitation to live a downwardly-mobile Jesus life?

Upward or Downward?

I spent most of Easter Sunday either on an airplane or waiting for flights at airports—primarily in Houston. While not an ideal way to spend Easter, it did allow a lot of time for reading. The day before I left I received a couple new books in the mail and I am thoroughly enjoying them on this trip. The first is a relatively new biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer by Ferdinand Schlingensiepen. I have a deep and abiding interest in Bonhoeffer's life and writings, so am looking forward to this latest biography and may write some about this in the future (particularly comparing it to the more well-known but inferior biography by Eric Metaxas.)

However, I am captivated even more at present by the other book I received: Down We Go, by Kathy Escobar. I find that I often deeply resonate with things that Kathy writes on her blog (included in my blog list: the carnival in my head) and when I saw that she had written this book I quickly ordered it. I rarely devour books, but this one has captured me and I completed half of it by the time I arrived in Germany. Kathy challenges us that living a Jesus-centered life will force us to live counter to the dominant trend not only in our culture, but also within most churches. This is not in itself a new teaching and Kathy does not claim it is. But she describes more specifically what it means to “live into the wild ways of Jesus,” as the books subtitle declares. She shares a lot of good thoughts and challenging ideas and I plan to share thoughts and reflections from it over the coming days or weeks.

As I traveled on Sunday I took an occasional break from Kathy's book and browsed the in-flight magazine. If you've ever flown you know what these magazines are like: filled with glossy pictures of exotic locations, high-end hotels and spas and glamorous people. The magazine articles invite you to live in this chic world, tempting you with visions of paradise. Apparently even if you fly in coach class you must have the means or at least the desire to inhabit such a realm. And the truth is, it appeals to the hedonist in me in some ways. I wonder what it would be like to live in such luxury that I could travel anywhere, stay in the nicest hotels and never (apparently) have to worry about money.

The irony of the contrast struck me. On the one hand I had this glossy magazine depicting the world's images of success and leisure. On the other I had a book challenging me to live a downwardly-mobile life, to identify with the marginalized, oppressed and outcast. The contrast couldn't have been much sharper (unless perhaps I'd been reading this magazine while walking through the slums of Haiti). To be fair to Kathy, she isn't necessarily calling everyone to give up their material wealth and move into the slums. But she is calling us to live in a radically different way that forsakes power and control; that rejects the upward climb toward success and security. The downwardly mobile life is precisely the opposite of what the world and, unfortunately, often the church encourage and practice.

I'm tempted to pursue the life depicted in the in-flight magazine. Part of me thinks that this would be such a pleasant way to live. But I wonder whether it truly satisfies. It may be comfortable, secure, even influential, but does it fulfill the soul? Does it stimulate and allow for real relationship? I can't honestly say because I don't live at that level, but I suspect that much of it is empty. As strange as it seems, I'm much more attracted to the downward life Kathy writes about. As she says, “It stinks down here but I really love the smell.” I'm not there yet. I think Kathy herself would say she's still learning and growing in this lifestyle, but she's already ahead of me.

What about you? Are you pursuing upward mobility, not just in the material world but spiritually? Or are you willing to take the downward path and enter into the “wild ways of Jesus?”

Look for more on this in the coming days or weeks and I encourage you to pick up Kathy's book and read it for yourself.

Small Steps to a Healthier World

Over the past two days I've shared about my growing understanding of the impact our lifestyle choices make upon our environment and our own health and raised questions about the response (or lack thereof) on the part of a significant portion of the Christian community. Today I want to tell about some of the steps my family and I have taken in response to what we are learning.


Before I do that, I want to state clearly that I do not intend our responses to be prescriptive for others. Each family and individual lives in a unique set of circumstances and what is a reasonable and wise step for one person may not be possible or reasonable for another. I do encourage each person to consider what changes she or he may make that would change the negative impact of our lifestyles on ourselves and our planets. No single one of us can change everything, but each of us can take concrete steps that together can have a significant influence.


After reading about the damage chemicals do to our environment and our bodies, we decided to look for alternatives to using toxic chemicals around our home. We do this in order to have a positive impact on the larger environment, but even more so because we don't want our home to be a place that poisons us. My son and I both suffer fairly strongly from sinus allergies. If we can change things in our home to reduce those effects, that alone would make it worthwhile.


This past month we started replacing our household cleaning products with products from a company I am very excited about: Seventh Generation. (www.seventhgeneration.com) At the moment I am very enamored with this company. I love that they strive to make products that are naturally-derived and which reduce or eliminate the toxic impact on the environment. I like that their products allow me to not worry about touching any residue left behind after cleaning. I also like that they are seeking to develop sustainability throughout their supply chain. They aren't perfect yet, by their own admission, but they are starting with the right goal in mind. We currently use their bathroom cleaning supplies, their dish detergent (both for hand-washing and dishwasher) and their laundry soap. Given our son's negative reaction to many ingredients in most laundry detergents, we are very hopeful and optimistic that Seventh Generation's “Free and Clear” line of products, free of all dyes, perfumes and masking agents, will work well for us. In addition to ordering on-line through the company's website or through Soap.com, I've found their products at our local Target, a local whole-foods grocery store and I've even heard that some of their products are available at Wal-mart! We are also using their recycled paper products for our bathroom and cleaning.


Before sharing the next step, I must confess that I have Prius envy. More accurately I should say I had Prius envy. I really wanted to buy a Prius so that I could have a more environmentally-friendly car. This desire arose not only from a concern about greenhouse gases, but even more from a simple economic reason—with the price of gas climbing steadily, I want a car that's going to get good mileage. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, even a used-Prius was beyond our price range, so we settled for the most fuel-efficient vehicle we could reasonably afford—a Ford Focus. I look forward to the day when I can improve on its fuel efficiency, but I'm grateful for what it has. In the meantime, after some discussion with my brother, who is a resource economist, and with others, I've lost my shine on the Prius and other electric vehicles. I love the idea of getting away from petroleum-based internal combustion engines, but when I looked at the Prius and other such vehicles in terms of their life-cycle impact on the environment, I realized that they are not nearly the environmental champions they are marketed to be. The production and disposal of their batteries raises significant environmental concerns, concerns that the companies do not yet seem to be addressing. So the current electric car model does not strike me as being a sustainable, long-term option, although it may be a step in the right direction.


One of the biggest challenges is responding to the flood of plastics in our world. I would, in my idealistic perspective, like to rid my life of all plastics. But this is not really feasible. Even the director of the film I referenced doesn't claim that it is. So I must ask myself how and where I can eliminate plastics from my life. One small step I took was to stop buying beverages in disposable plastic containers. (Though even this is not a hard-and-fast rule. If I have no other viable option in a particular situation I will drink from such a container. But I will do all I can to put it in the recycling stream afterwards.) Each member of our family now has a stainless steel water bottle for taking drinking water with them. These bottles should last far longer than plastic, are safer for our health and can be more easily recycled at the end of their lifespan. It's not a world-changer, but it's a small step in the right direction.


I don't really think of myself as an environmentalist. I don't live off the fruit of the land. I don't even grow my own garden. I'm not terribly inclined in that direction anyway and living in southern Arizona gardening is a particularly tough challenge. I enjoy a good can of cola/pop/soda (pick your regional variant) and yes, I do even eat at McDonald's or other fast food places sometimes. I will continue to look at ways I can live with a smaller, healthier impact on my environment, but as I said at the outset, we cannot change everything.


How about you? What steps have you taken or could you take to reduce your impact on the environment and create a healthier world for yourself and others?

Two Roads Diverged in the Middle of the Wood

This summer my family and I returned to the US from our work overseas for a couple months of rest and refreshment. At least that was how we envisioned it when we came back. The past two years have been very successful in terms of our work with minority language groups. However, that progress has cost us greatly as a family. We have struggled to meet the needs of our children as they move into their teenage years. We do not advocate building family life around the goal of making our children happy, but at the same time we do need to be aware of their needs and not sacrifice them on some false altar of ministry.

During our time in Arizona over the past month it became increasingly clear that we needed to make a radical change in order to keep our family healthy. We thought we had another year to work out the next step, but certain needs have pushed that time frame into the immediate present. Because of this we decided that we should relocate to the US for the next few years while our children complete high school. During that time my wife and I will continue our work with minority language groups, but will do so remotely. This will present a number of challenges, but will allow us to provide our children with the support they need during these important years. Living among the people groups also had challenges and the price was paid most heavily by the children. Now we will focus more on them while moving the work ahead on a slower path.

I wrestled a lot with this decision, because we have invested heavily over the past few years to establish our work. At first I felt that the only choice we had was to sacrifice our family by remaining in location and continuing to work as we had been, or to sacrifice the work by leaving the location and focusing on our family. Neither was a desirable option to me. I spoke at length with my pastor about this and he, without pushing me to any decision, challenged me to open my hand and not cling to what I felt was God's plan for me. He told me to let go and let God direct me/us in the next step. I had been paralyzed by fear, fear of the unknown and fear that our needs would not be adequately met if we made any major change. I also feared the impact on my identity. Who would I be if I were not doing the work I enjoy?

Faced with certain realities in our lives at present, the decision became quite apparent and in some sense made itself. But I still had to choose to accept it. I am still working through the impact of this on me personally, on us as a family and on our work and I hope to share some of this journey with my readers in the weeks and month ahead. Some voices argue that we should sacrifice all for the sake of the Good News, including our very family. They point to the lives of great men and women of God in the past who left family behind while pursuing their "ministry" and they hold such people up as models for us to emulate. But I question whether this is truly the "godly" choice. God is teaching me these days that if I listen to him, he can open up new paths that I might not have considered if I clung to my "ministry" at all costs. And in this new path he can continue to teach me and work through me while at the same time caring for the needs of my family. It does require sacrifice and the sacrifice is painful. But it brings blessing, at least I believe it will and have been affirmed in this choice by people I greatly respect and admire.

In the first days of working through this decision I felt great anguish over what it would cost me and the things I would have to leave behind. My focus was on the loss. But after some time God began to turn my focus toward the possibilities and opportunities that lie ahead. It doesn't mean that I won't have to give anything up or make any sacrifices. It doesn't make those sacrifices less painful or easier. But it does help me look ahead with hope and anticipation, rather than remaining stuck in the past or present in grief and sorrow. I wish sometimes that the journey of faith was a nice walk along a manicured path. It's not, because faith requires me to step into the unknown and put complete trust in a God whose ways I do not fully understand--far from it. Growing in faith is painful and exhausting. But it is also joyful and filled with hope. I invite you to continue walking on this journey with me.

How to Use a Tax Return

This week I ticked an annual milestone off of my to-do list. My taxes are completed and filed, thanks in no small part to the help of one acquaintance who does the hard work for me (and in the process significantly reduces my stress levels. Thanks, Don!) This year we will be getting a return, which has prompted some thinking on my part. What should I do with this returned money? I've already tithed on it, so in one sense my conscience can be clear if I use it on our own needs and desires. I do know that I will use part of it to eliminate some debt that we accumulated due to some funding shortfalls last year. But what to do with the remainder of it?

Part of me feels that I should be a wise steward and set it aside for future needs. I already can foresee several expenses coming up this year that it might be helpful to have some money set aside for, not to mention those unplanned expenses that inevitably arise. Perhaps I should even put it into a longer-term account for retirement or long-term needs. That might be what a financial manager would tell me. These may both be very legitimate choices.

Or I could use the money to buy some things that would be nice for our family, things that we don't necessarily need but which we've been dreaming of. Would it be wrong to treat ourselves to something special? Or I could simply use it for something that would be helpful, but not essential, like replacing my 4-year-old computer.

Or what if we took this money and used it for something greater, something that would serve the purposes of God's kingdom? Some friends of ours are hosting an event on Facebook called The Barnabas Offering, encouraging people to give their tax returns to people serving God cross-culturally. I think that's a great idea. I know many such people who have really struggled recently with their funding decreasing due to the economic challenges in the US and globally. Or I could give it to an organization like Compassion or World Vision and help make a difference in the lives of poor families and children around the world. I could give it to families and individuals I know personally who face real financial need (not need induced by living beyond their means.) The reality is there are so many good possibilities that it's hard to choose.

It seems clear that the choice between spending it on unnecessary items for myself or my family or investing it in God's kingdom is a clear and easy one. But what about setting it aside as a wise steward for future needs? Is that a better choice than investing it now in real needs around the world? Part of me says that the wise steward should prepare for the future and, having some surplus now, I should set it aside for the future. But does this demonstrate a lack of faith in God's ability and willingness to supply my future needs? By doing this am I saying that I'd better take care of myself because I don't know if God will do it?

The truth is I don't know what the future holds. Maybe I would put this money in the bank only to see the bank fail and my money be lost (well, there's FDIC and all that, so theoretically I wouldn't lose it) or I could invest it, but then the investment might lose value rather than gain it. It seems secure to set it aside for the future, but that security is in fact very elusive and fragile. I might invest it for my retirement only to find that I never reach that age due to Christ's return or His calling me home sooner.

As we draw near to the Lenten season, this question weighs quite strongly on my mind. What would Jesus have me do? How would he have me use this resource? While I am waiting for the IRS to process my return, I'm going to be praying about this and asking Him to direct me and give me clarity and wisdom. And I'd be glad to hear your thoughts as well.