Won't You Be My Neighbor?

Won't You Be My Neighbor?
(Link to the Audio File)

“Won’t You Be My Neighbor?”

Luke 10:25-37

July 10, 2016

When I graduated from seminary, a dear friend got me this Mister Rogers Sweater Changing Mug. Whenever you pour hot water into the mug, Mr. Roger’s jacket changes from a sport’s coat to a yellow sweater. Because in Mister Roger’s Neighborhood, when Mr. Roger's came home everyday he changed out of his sport’s coat and into a sweater. But that’s not the coolest thing about this mug. The coolest thing about this mug is that the outside of the mug is decorated with quotes by Mr. Rogers. It even has the lyrics to Mr. Roger’s theme song. I’m going to sing the chorus. If you know it I invite you to join in with me.

It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood

A beautiful day for a neighbor.

Would you be mine?

Could you be mine?

Won’t You be my neighbor?

While I loved Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood of make-believe as a child, I’ve come to love him even more as an adult. Because as an adult, I know that it's difficult to be a neighbor. Particularly to be a neighbor to those affected by the racial disparities in law enforcement . And this past week we’ve seen firsthand how these racial disparities wreck havoc in our communities.  On Tuesday morning in Baton Rouge, Alton Sterling was shot dead after an altercation with police. On Wednesday night in St. Paul, Philando Castile was shot by police when he was trying to show the officer his license and registration. On Thursday night in Dallas,  4 Police Officers and 1 civilian were killed during a peaceful protest against police shootings. Amidst the violence that is raging all around us, how do we as Christians show mercy to our neighbor? Particularly to our neighbor's who look and act differently than we do.

Our Scripture passage for today teaches us that we are particularly called to be a neighbor to people who are different from us. The passage begins by a lawyer asking Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. The lawyer is trying to test Jesus’ knowledge of the law, thereby challenging his authority.  Jesus does not take the lawyer’s bait. Instead, Jesus  asks him what is written in the law. The lawyer answer that we are to love God and our neighbors if we want to inherit eternal life. But just who are our neighbors, the lawyer asks Jesus? This is the question that evokes the entire parable. Jesus does not answer the lawyer right away. Instead, Jesus tells us the parable of the Good Samaritan to expand our understanding of what it means to be a neighbor and to love a neighbor.

The parable begins with a man traveling on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. Which is about a 20 mile journey in the wilderness.  This is a dangerous road, not one to travel alone.  While he is traveling the man fell into the hands of robbers. These robbers stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him for dead. The man needs help. He is wounded and alone. Since he is away from home, he must rely on the kindness of strangers. And for this wounded traveler the strangers come in the form of a Priest, a Levite, and a Samaritan.

Each of these three men respond to the wounded stranger because of who they are and who the man is. The injured man in this parable is a Jew.  Jesus does not explain why neither the priest nor the Levite help the man, who was one of their own. Especially given that priests and Levites were highly esteemed Jewish religious figures. The point is that neither men is willing to assume the risk that comes with pausing on a dangerous road. Nothing excuses the unwillingness of either the priest or the Levite to help out a brother in need.

Then a Samaritan sees the injured man lying on the side of the road. Now Jews and Samaritans were enemies. They claimed to worship the same God, but each group had its own Scriptures, temples, and religious practices.  The Jews held the Samaritans in contempt. Seeing them as unfaithful to the law of Moses and to the temple worship in Jerusalem.  Different ethnic identities and longstanding cultural animosity gives us every reason to assume that the Samaritan, like the priest and the Levite, would pass by the wounded traveler .

Except the Samaritan does something shocking. Luke tells us that the Samaritan was moved with pity for the wounded traveler. The Samaritan bandages his wounds, puts him on his own animal, brings him to an inn and takes care of him. The next day he pays the innkeeper, and promises to continue to pay the innkeeper for any further expenses. He’s really going out of his way to ensure that the wounded traveler can recover from his injuries. The Samaritan treats the man not as an enemy, but as one dear to him. His love for the wounded traveler creates a neighborly relationship with him.  

The parable ends with Jesus asking the lawyer which of these men acted as a neighbor towards the wounded traveler? Rather than say, “the Samaritan,” the lawyer answers, “The one who showed him mercy.” Mercy is treating someone with compassion even when they don’t deserve it. And mercy is the heart of neighbor love. Because mercy is saying that I am going to treat you with love, dignity, and respect even when you don’t deserve it. This parable teaches us that practicing mercy towards our brothers and sisters is how we inherit eternal life.

Mercy is also at the heart of Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood of Make-Believe. His song “Won’t You Be My Neighbor,” teaches children that Mr. Roger's loves them even though they haven’t done anything to earn his love. It doesn’t matter if they’ve been bad or good that day, if they are smart, or talented, Mr. Roger's wants every child who watches his show to feel that they are his neighbor. When he asks the children if they will be his neighbor, he’s saying that the things that divide them- things like race, class, gender, political affiliation, do not matter as much as our shared humanity. And that we cannot live into our shared humanity until we learn to treat every boy and girl we interact with with mercy.

Unfortunately, we do not live in Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood of Make-Believe. We live in the real world. A world that celebrates rugged individualism over and against neighbor love. How then, are we to live out this neighbor love in our everyday lives? Again, I find Mr. Roger's to be a helpful place to start. A few days ago I was scrolling through my Facebook news feed. Now I have Facebook Friends from all over the political, and racial spectrum. My liberal white friends were posting status updates voicing their outrage at yet another racially motivated police shooting. My black friends were asking if there will be justice for Pilando Castile and Alton Sterling. Some of my conservative friends were wondering how these shootings would affect their right to bear arms. But one status update caught my eye. It was a picture of Mr. Rogers and Daniel Tiger with this quote:

When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of disaster, ‘I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers-so many caring people in this world.

And it didn’t take me long to look for the helpers in my Facebook news feed. Some of my Facebook friends are teaching English to children in Haiti. Some are getting ready to welcome their first child, and begin the exciting path of parenthood. Some of my other Facebook friends are working to end hunger, juvenile delinquency, and homelessness. And when I read my news feed looking for the helpers, I started to see women and men who care deeply about the future of this country. And are demanding that we come together as neighbors and figure out how to show mercy to the wounded strangers lying on a pavement in Baton Rouge, St. Paul, and Dallas.

I want to close by asking you to think about who are the helpers in your life? Who are the people who, at great cost to themselves, are going out of their way to show love, mercy, and respect to strangers? [Pause] Once you have that person in your mind, I want you to think about how you might take their example and become a helper yourself? Because the parable of the Good Samaritan doesn’t just ask us to celebrate, or welcome, other people who show mercy to strangers. It asks us to get our hands dirty. To put some skin in the game. To walk alongside men and women who are hurting and suffering and share with them the hope we have in Jesus Christ. Because we are all wounded strangers lying on the side of the road waiting for someone to help us. We’ve all been beaten up as we wander through the wilderness of this life. And by the grace of God, God sent his only son so that we don’t have to wander through the wilderness alone. We gather together for worship on Sunday to proclaim that God loves us. And that we have a community to remind us of God’s love. And, having received that love, how can we not go out into the world singing:

It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood

A beautiful day for a neighbor

Would you be mine?

Could you be mine?

Won’t you be my neighbor?

Pastor As Leader

Pastor as Leader

“White Americans have been traumatized by racism.”

Mark Charles, a Native American activist, lecturer, and writer, spoke these difficult words at a panel discussion of lament and racism at the 2016 Calvin Worship Symposium. I left this panel discussion convinced that lament could help the church respond to the trauma of racism. But what can one pastor-in-training do in the face of a pervasive, systemic, and institutional evil?

This pastor-in-training had to start by being the pastor. And one way for me to do that is to lead our seminary community to face difficult realities. When I returned from Calvin College, I knew I wanted to plan a worship service lamenting racism. But I also knew that this service might anger a lot of folks in our community. Because to lament racism requires that we acknowledge the presence of racism. Something our mostly white, mostly evangelical community struggles to acknowledge.

Before I thought about the structure of a lament service (how to organize the liturgy, what hymns to use, etc), I spent a few days asking our community to share with me their experiences with racism. I spoke with a Native American student about poor graduation rates amongst Native American youth. A same-sex librarian and I spent an evening researching housing disparities in our neighborhood. I spoke with a hospital chaplain about the loss of an entire generation of African American men to mass incarceration. One student preparing for social justice work spoke with me about the environmental impact of sending hundreds of plastic water bottles to Flint, MI.

It was from these conversations that the idea of prayer stations took shape. I recruited several artists from our community and asked them to use the liturgical elements in the sanctuary (table, font, pulpit, and cross) to give people a place to lament, and to teach people how to lament in worship. Other than these instructions, I gave the artists free reign to create whatever they wanted. One artist turned the area in front of the cross into a lament of education inequality. Another artist turned the legs of the communion table into prison bars to lament mass incarceration. Another artist collected water bottles from the community and used them to turn the baptismal font into a lament of water insecurity. Finally, an artist used the space behind the pulpit to post prayers lamenting housing insecurity like eviction notices.

Photos of our Lament Stations 

During worship that Tuesday, instead of three hymns and a sermon, we visited each prayer station for a time of prayer and lament. While this service made many people uncomfortable, several people told me afterwards that it was the closest they felt to God in a long time.

Leading worship in chapel taught me that being a pastor requires leadership. And leadership begins with listening and discerning how God is moving in a particular worshipping community. I had no idea the depth of racism in our community until I spoke with members of our community and heard their stories. But leadership also requires a willingness to give people a vision for something, then letting them run with it. The prayer stations would have looked very different if I designed them myself. And by different, I mean much worse, because I am no artist. So while the pastor is the leader of the worshipping community, the pastor leads best when she recognizes the gifts already present in her community and presents opportunities for people to use their gifts to bless others.

Rebecca Protten and the Importance of Context

Awhile back, I took the Clifton Strenthfinder test to determine what my leadership strengths were. According to the test, my number one strength is context. People who are strong in the context theme like to look at the past to better understand the present. We collect random facts in our brains in the hopes that one day these random facts will make the present less confusing. We are the people you want on your Trivia Pursuit teams.

Context is also a useful strength to have when you read a religious biography. In this week’s assigned biography, Rebecca’s Revival: Creating Black Christianity in the Atlantic World by Jon Sensbach, Sensbach is interested in how Rebecca’s context (the eighteenth century Century Atlantic World) shaped her biography. He argues that Rebecca’s life stood at the cross roads of the expansion of the slave trade, the Afro-Atlantic freedom struggle, and the rise of Black Christianity, and that Rebecca’s ability to navigate this context makes her an interesting historical figure in her own right (235).

The growth of the slave trade shaped Rebecca’s life because Rebecca became a Christian while a slave. The island of St. Thomas, where Rebecca grew up, was controlled by the Danish, who always intended for the island to be a sugar colony run by Africans (14). In order to secure the labor needed to run these sugar colonies, the Danish merchants contracted with African slave dealers to supply them with captives (15). Oftentimes this meant that the slaves working the sugar plantations were captured from Africa and sold to plantation owners who required slave labor (35). Rebecca was not born in Africa but in Antigua (30). While we don’t know whether she was a slave or free in Antigua, we do know that she was kidnapped from Antigua as a small child and sold to the von Braverhouts family (33). Rebecca became a domestic servant of the von Braverhouts family where she was educated, became a Christian, and freed (35-37). Though the reasons for Rebecca's freedom remain unclear, it is likely that religion played a role (37). Rebecca’s experience with the slave trade helps modern readers understand the context of slavery in the Atlantic World.

Another important way we can understand Rebecca’s context is by looking at the Afro-Atlantic freedom struggle. Kidnapping people, and forcing them to do menial labor, created some tension in the eighteenth century Atlantic world. But the specific tensions of famine and violence mobilized the freedom struggle. The slaveowners on St. Thomas used “a frightening inventory of extremities” to discipline their slaves (9). For example, they cut out a slaves tongue after he deigned to speak to a white person (9). Sensbach argues that the entire economy of St. Thomas was dependent upon a system that caused slave-owners to live in fear that their slaves would slit their throats (10). One way slaveowners kept this fear in check was through violence, but another way was through not feeding their workers (21). Slaveowners allowed their slaves to eat only the food they harvested themselves after the days work was done (21). When famine struck St. Thomas, Africans, “strangely resistant to having their limbs amputated by Europeans, decided rebellion was their only option (22). The Afro-Atlantic freedom struggle is important for understanding Rebecca’s biography because even though she did not participate in the struggle her world was limited and regulated by the struggle. The struggle teaches us how difficult it was for her to proclaim the gospel in a world that understood racial violence as normative.

A final way we can understand Rebecca’s context is by looking at the rise of Black Christianity. For Rebecca, proclaiming the gospel was “dusty, unglamorous, and dangerous work” (69) because slaveowners were concerned that Christianity might incite further rebellion. The goal of Black Christianity in the eighteenth century was to spread the gospel through baptisms, not by preaching a gospel of social justice. Any talk of equality was relegated to the afterlife. We see this tension most clearly during Zinzendorf’s speech after Rebecca and her husband Matthaus were released from jail for their “illegal” marriage. He instructs the crowd gathered,  

Remain faithful to your masters and mistresses, your overseers and bombas, and… perform all your work with as much love and diligence as if you were working for yourselves. You must know that Christ himself puts each one of his children to work; for the Lord has made everything Himself-kings, masters, servants, and slaves. And as long as we live in this world, everyone must gladly endure the state into which God has placed him and be content with God’s council (141-142).

This statement only makes sense if we examine the context in which it was spoken. Zinzendorf was an aristocratic Moravian preacher uninterested in challenging the existing social order. He saw no theological issue with baptizing slaves, because the change the slaves underwent in baptism was ontological, not physical. Also, Zinzendorf understood that if he wanted to keep the mission alive in St. Thomas, he had to prove to the slaveowners that Christianity was not a threat to the existing social order. The devil’s bargain he made to secure Rebecca and Matthaus’ release required him to give a rousing pro-slavery oration.

 Leaving the eighteenth century Atlantic world behind, I think context is also really important in the life of the church today. It is much easier in our churches to assume we know why a person acts the way that they do, instead of taking the time to get to know a person’s history so we can look to see if patterns emerge. One gift of the context theme is that it reminds us that we are all a part of a story larger than ourselves- the story of a community of faith which is intimately tied to God’s story of creation and redemption. Rebecca’s story helped me to see that understanding a person’s context will not just make you a great Trivial Pursuit player, it will allow you to visualize how an individual’s story fits into God’s story of creation, redemption, and reconciliation.

All citations taken from:

Sensbach, Jon F. Rebecca’s Revival: Creating Black Christianity in the Atlantic World.      Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2005.

Francis Asbury and the Characteristics of Religious Leadership

 

In my Church and Sacraments class, our professor asked our class to define some characteristics of religious leadership. Is religious leadership characterized by exceptional preaching? By maintaining a color coded Google calendar? By cultivating a faithful prayer life? So far, all my class can agree on is that the characteristics of religious leadership are complicated, and contextual. Thankfully, this week in American Religious Biographies, we read a biography from a historian wrestling with these very questions as he tries to make sense of the life of Francis Asbury.  

This week we read American Saint: Francis Asbury and the Methodists by John Wigger. Wigger is a professor of history at the University of Missouri. As an American historian, Wigger writes to prove that Asbury is not just an important patriotic figure in American history, but an American Saint (417). Wigger suggests that Asbury was an American Saint by claiming, “Asbury wasn’t an intellectual, charismatic performer or autocrat, but his understanding of what it meant to be pious, connected, culturally aware, and effectively organized redefined religious leadership in America” (13).  

Wigger proves his argument that Asbury is an American Saint by illustrating how Asbury’s piety, connectedness, cultural awareness, and organizational skills redefined what it means to be an American religious leader. Asbury is perhaps best known for his piety. He would often awaken between four and five am to read Scripture, pray, and read theology (40). After leaving England in 1771, Asbury never owned a home, sleeping for more than forty years in the homes of Methodist believers (23). Asbury never married, partially because he wanted to devote his energies to his ministry (417), and partially because many of the circuits could not financially support married preachers (369).

Amongst American Methodists, Asbury is known as “the people’s saint” because of his connectedness and cultural awareness. In a letter to Wesley, dated March 1784, Absury wrote:

“we must suffer with, if we labour for the poor, being often obliged to dwell in dirty cabins, to sleep in poor beds, and for retirement, to go into the woods. Yet how else would [we] find the people who most needed the gospel?” (127). For Asbury, his personal suffering was the best way for him to connect with the people he was trying to minister to. Later in life, Asbury lamented the disconnectedness of married preachers from their congregations writing, “our preachers get wives and a home, and run to their dears almost every night: how can they, by personal observation, know the state of their families it is part of their duty to watch over for good” (370). For Asbury, it was more important for a preacher to be connected than comfortable.

Asbury also cultivated a reputation as “the people’s saint” through the cultural awareness he demonstrated in his sermons. Asbury never became a great preacher (285). He never went to college, or seminary. His sermons were “close to home” sermons. Every sermon began with a reading of Scripture, and the sermon comprised of anecdotes and analogies from everyday life (284). As an itinerant preacher, Asbury prepared his sermons while traveling on horseback. Also, Methodism, during Asbury’s ministry was largely comprised of poor men and women with little formal education. By focusing on exhortation instead of doctrine, Asbury’s “close to home” sermons ensured that the greatest number of people could receive the gospel.  

Finally, Asbury is also known for his administrative gifts. During his ministry, Asbury founded what historians have labeled, “the Asburyan Episcopacy.” The Asburyan Episcopacy relied on itinerant preaching. Every year at Conference the bishop (Asbury) would hand out assignments dictating where his preachers were to travel that year. All assignments were final. This system existed so that the greatest number of people had a chance to hear the gospel (365). A system reliant on itinerant preaching required incredible organization on Asbury’s part. For example, from 1769-1806, Asbury was responsible for assigning 1,250 itinerant preachers (366). Disorganization on Asbury’s part would mean that parts of the country would have no Methodist preachers to proclaim the gospel.

What then, can the church today learn from Asbury’s understanding of religious leadership? I believe that the characteristics of religious leadership Asbury exemplified, piety, cultural awareness, connectedness, and organization are important characteristics of religious leadership. Our task is to ask ourselves how to embody these characteristics in our current contexts. What follows are a few ways to imagine each characteristic in our modern context. As you go about your life and ministries this week, I invite you to reflect on what you believe to be the characteristics of religious leadership, and how you might interpret them in your current context.

 

Characteristics of Religious Leadership

Piety

·         a willingness to cultivation a devotional life that includes prayer, Scripture reading, and theological texts

·         a willingness to cultivate a disciplined life that includes maintaining personal relationships, self care, exercise, hobbies, leisure, and rest.

·         an willingness to discern the call God has places on your life, and rearrange your life choices accordingly.

Connectedness

·         investing in personal relationships with the women and men under your care.

·         a willingness to set your personal comfort aside for the sake of the kingdom.

·         a willingness to engage with whatever means of communication the men and women under your care use (for some that means learning how to write church newsletters, for others it means learning how to use Twitter).

Cultural Awareness

·         a willingness to investigate what’s going on in the world. You don’t have to be glued to the news, but you should have a basic sense of what’s happening in the world.

·         a willingness to discern which elements of the culture are helpful in fostering Christian discipleship, and which elements are unhelpful.

 

Effectively Organized

·         a willingness to organize your responsibilities and commitments in a way that allows you to use your time efficiently.

·         a willingness to say no to projects that you have neither the time, or the responsibility for.

·         a willingness to work well with others and delegate responsibilities accordingly.

 

All citations taken from:

 

Wigger, John. American Saint: Francis Asbury and the Methodists. London: Oxford University Press, 2009.

Sarah Osborn’s Dangerous Theology of Suffering

On September 15, 1744, Sarah Osborn received the worst news any parent could hear. Her eleven year old son, Samuel, was dying from tuberculosis. Sarah decided to write about her son’s death in order to discover where God was in the midst of her suffering.

Sarah Osborn was a white, evangelical, woman living in New England during the eighteenth century. Samuel was her only biological child. Sarah always regarded Samuel’s father, Samuel Wheaton, as her one true love. Samuel’s father died at sea when Samuel was a young boy. Even though Sarah remarried and became a stepmother, she clearly favored Samuel above her stepchildren.  In narrating her son’s death, she came up with two theological models to explain her suffering: suffering as the penalty for sin, and suffering as a means of grace.

Suffering as the penalty for sin understands human sin as the cause of human suffering. This theological model suggests that God is in control of suffering because God predestines the evil and suffering in the world (82). An example of this theological model from Sarah’s memoir would be the time when eight year old Sarah burned her hand in a fire because she decided to play with her doll on the Sabbath (88). Sarah believed that she suffered burns because God wanted to punish her for her sin of playing on the Sabbath.

But Samuel’s death caused her to reject suffering as the penalty for her sins, and replace it with suffering as a means of grace. This theological model sees suffering as a tangible sign of God’s love (88). When Samuel died, instead of expressing her anger, despair, and hopelessness, she calmly accepted God’s will, renewing her trust despite her suffering (152). Sarah wrote that when she felt the most alone, that was when she felt closest to God (152-153). Samuel’s death, became for her, a way to experience God’s love more deeply.

But what might we learn from Sarah Osborn’s understanding of suffering? Our biggest take away should be how not to think about suffering! It makes total sense that Sarah understood suffering as a penalty for sin, then later as a means of grace. Her views are completely orthodox in eighteenth century evangelical theology. The danger with thinking about suffering as a penalty for sin, or as a means of grace is that not all suffering is redemptive.  We are wading in theologically murky waters if we tell a grieving mother that her son died so that God could reveal God’s love to her more clearly.

So what is a better theological model to think about suffering? Let us turn to a minute to the Suffering Servant Song in Isaiah. In Isaiah 53:3, the servant was:

Despised and rejected by others;

a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity;

and as one from whom others hide their faces

he was despised, and we held him of no account.

A theologically problematic reading of this passage would be to say that suffering is redemptive because it brings us closer to God, because we do not want to say that a good God has to use suffering to bring about good. A better way to read this passage is to say that God can use the suffering that already exists in the world to bring about good. This allows us to say that the redemptive nature of suffering is in the act of solidarity with those who suffer, not in the act itself.

What implications does the suffering as an act of solidarity theological model have for the church today? One helpful implication of this model is that it proposes that the best suffering is done in community. Despite the best advances in nutrition, medicine, and disease prevention, sometimes our children will die unexpectedly, the way that Samuel did. When we acknowledge that suffering is a reality of the fallen world we live in, and we as a church choose to say that in order for us to stand in solidarity with those who suffer, we need to create environments whereby people can process their suffering before God and before one another.

Church becomes, in this theological model, a place where suffers can find support for their suffering. Our job as the church is to proclaim again and again that suffering is not what God intended for his creation, and until Christ comes again, we want to stand in solidarity with those who suffer. The best way to stand in solidarity with those who suffer is to allow our church communities to become places where suffering is acknowledged and hope is proclaimed. Instead of telling women like Sarah that her son died as punishment for her sins, or as a way for her to draw closer to God, the church needs to stand with her in her grief and suffering. Standing in solidarity with those who suffer is one important way that the church can fulfill its mission to participate in the kingdom of God.

 

* This blog post is based on Catherine Brekus's Sarah Osborn's World: The Rise of Evangelical Christianity in Northern America. It was originally written for #ch49pts at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary.

The Church Needs a More Complicated Atticus Finch

 

Everything I learned in childhood was a lie.

That is how Jean Louise (Scout) Finch, and I feel about a hundred pages into Go Set A Watchman, Harper Lee's sequel of To Kill a Mockingbird.

When we first meet Scout, she is the six year old narrator of To Kill A Mockingbird. Her father, Atticus Finch is a well respected lawyer in Maycomb, Alabama. Atticus agrees to defend Tom Robinson, a black man accused of raping a young white woman, Mayella Ewell. Atticus gets Robinson acquitted. Even though race relations in Maycomb remain relatively the same, Scout grows up with a father she has elevated to God-like status.

Fast-forward twenty years. Scout is now twenty-six, and goes by her full name Jean Louise. Atticus is still a respectable figure at seventy-two, but he relies on the help of Hank (Jean Louise's poor childhood friend) to help him run his practice, and his sister Alexandra to look after him. Jean Louise returns to Maycomb from New York City for a two week holiday. Instead of having a pleasant time wading deep in nostalgia, Jean Louise discovers that Atticus is a member of the Maycomb citizen's council- an organization determined to maintain Negro segregation. Jean Louise becomes violently ill. Everything she learned in childhood was a lie.

I sympathize with Jean Louise. I remember reading To Kill a Mockingbird for the first time when I was sixteen. Like Scout, I too thought Atticus was God. He was smart, kind, compassionate, loyal, and deeply concerned for justice. I wanted to name my future son Atticus, but since I was sixteen, I had to settle for naming my first cell phone (a silver flip phone) Atticus because it was helpful, reliable, and unassuming.

When I read that Atticus is a member of the Maycomb citizen's council, I too wanted to throw up. How could Atticus Finch be a racist?! Everything I learned in childhood was a lie. It was not until I read Jean Louise's conversation with her Uncle Jack that I realized my mistake:

... now you, Miss, born with your own conscience, somewhere along the line fastened it like a barnacle onto your father's. As you grew up, when you were grown, totally unknown to yourself, you confused your father with God. You never saw him as a man with a man's heart, and with a man's failings-I'll grant you it may have been hard to see, he makes so few mistakes, but he makes 'em like all of us. You were an emotional cripple, leaning on him, getting the answers from him, assuming that your answers would always be his answers (265).

Now that I have finished reading Go Set A Watchman, I believe that it is a more timely novel today then when it was written in 1957, especially in how it helps me think about the church.

Growing up, the church was my Atticus Finch. It was the place where good people went to worship a good God. It was a place untouched by racism, sexism, or violence. But as I grew up I realized that just because people go to church does not mean that they are always good. I have seen many "perfect" church families implode because of affairs, drug addiction, and unemployment. This summer, I read how nine good church- going people were gunned down in Charleston, and I read about black churches burning in the south. The church was my Atticus Finch, and Atticus was a racist. Everything I leaned in childhood was a lie.

But was it? Or had I, like Scout, created an unrealistically perfect church in my head, then tried to bolt the second the church stopped living up to my inflated expectations?

Go Set A Watchman is a timely novel in 2015 because Lee is forcing us to confront the unrealistically perfect images we had of life as children. Atticus Finch is not God and that's a good thing. We do not need Atticus to be God because we already have a savior in Jesus Christ. The church needs a more complicated Atticus Finch because it needs to be able to see itself for what it really is, not what it was fifty years ago when the Sunday School classes were packed, and the offering plate was always full. We need to stop seeing the church as a failure unable to live up to our unrealistic expectations, and ask ourselves how the Holy Spirit is moving in the midst of our complicated, imperfect congregations. For it is in these complicated, imperfect congregation that we can best hear the words of the prophet Isaiah:

For thus hath the Lord said unto me,

Go, set a watchman, let him declare what he seeth.

Discerning My Call to Ministry by Living with a Family

When people first learn that I've chosen to live with a family while I attend seminary instead of living in seminary housing, most people think I'm crazy. Why would I choose to share my space with a toddler, a newborn, and two adults I'm not related to? It's a fair question, and I'd like to use this post as an opportunity to explain how God has used my living situation to help prepare me for ministry. 

But first let me give you a rundown of what a typical day is like in the McKinley-DePoe house.

It's 8am and I am running late. I gather my Hebrew textbooks, pencils, water bottle, phone, keys and toss them in my bag. As I stumble down the stairs trying to remember anything I forgot I hear, "RE-BE-KH!" Landon, my 20 month old housemate, is awake and excited that I will be joining him for breakfast. 

As I head in to the kitchen I see that Josh, his dad already made the coffee. PTL. Sustenance. I pour myself a cup, and assemble the rest of my breakfast. While I try to remember how to make cereal, Landon starts singing to me, using a whisk as a microphone. Josh, who attended seminary awhile back, asks me how my Hebrew studying is coming along. He reminds me that I'm going to do fine on my test. I finish my breakfast, giving pieces of toast to Landon, because seriously who can refuse a happy kid at 8:15 in the morning? By 8:30 I'm out the door, but not before Landon waves goodbye to me from the top of the steps. 

I then go to Hebrew, eat lunch, study, then go to work. I finish up around 5:15 and head home. 

Since today is Tuesday, Megan's (Landon's mom) parents are spending the day with us. Her parents remind me of my own grandparents and it's always a treat to have them over. We, (Me, Landon, Josh, Megan, Grandma, Grandpa, and Baby Brooke) have dinner together. Grandma tells me about her adventures with Landon playing tennis, and seeing the fire truck. Megan fills me in on Brooke's day (at almost 3 weeks old, it's mostly filled with eating, sleeping, and pooping.) I tell everyone about the new Hebrew paradigm I'm studying. 

From 6-7:30 I finish up preparing my Hebrew lessons for the next day. At 7:30 I put my books away because it's time for my favorite part of the day, holding Brooke. I like to call her my little Hebrew study break because holding her is the best stress relief. Until she realizes that I'm not mom, and therefore can't feed her. At which point I hand her back to Mom, and go finish studying before bed. 

I hope you can see from the above illustration that living with a family gives me stability and normalcy in an otherwise unstable (my schedule changes every 12 weeks) and abnormal (I spend my days reading Barth) life. As a single young woman, I have a whole new respect for marriage and family life. Watching Megan and Josh sacrifice for their children everyday calls me on to be more selfless in my work and relationships. If Megan can endure 20 hours of labor and delivery, I can get up 10 minutes earlier to unload the dishwasher. 

But, perhaps most importantly, living with a family during seminary has given me the space to discern my call to ministry. Let me explain what I mean by that. Seminary can be an incredibly lonely  place. As you start to live your life in a fishbowl, you are away from your family, your church, and your support systems. Loneliness, mixed with few safe places to be yourself, causes many people to either put off asking God what he wants to do with your call to ministry, or not asking God what he wants to do with your  ministry because you just want to finish. In living with this family, God has given me the support I need to ask him the tough questions about my vocation and future family life. While I don't have the answers to the big questions, I do know who I'm having breakfast with tomorrow morning, and that, right now, is more than enough.