A Change in Perspective

While listening to a smattering of prayers and pastoral-led readings at church a couple weeks ago, I noticed the frequency of a certain type of word:

• kingdom
• power
• throne
• rule
• conquered
• triumphant
• reigning
• sovereign king
• exalted
• ordered
• authority

I couldn't help but be struck by the implication of these words.  There's something telling about Christianity that we reference spiritual things in these ways.  Christianity and Christian texts approach spirituality from the perspective of those with a ruler mentality, and the language we use reflects that mindset.  We view Christ as a King, a ruler, one who has conquered things, and that commands our respect and admiration.  We promote our relationship with God as a path to becoming conquerors ourselves, triumphant and exalted.

Not that there is no basis for these terms biblically; there are plenty of verses which, at least in the English translations, use these exact words.  They aren't 'unbiblical' terms, but I wonder if our focus on them is.  God is described in so many ways beyond these, yet our Christian songs and sermons so often zero in on the concepts of victory, power, and authority almost as though they are the point of our faith.  The Bible is explicit that love of others is always the point.

The kingdom mindset isn't as prevalent in some other religions and spiritual perspectives.  Earlier this year as my children and I studied Native American culture and philosophy, we came across what's known by certain Native American tribes as "The Words Spoken Before All Others" - an address which is routinely given to open and close all important gatherings.  It's a lengthy statement of gratitude to the various natural and spiritual elements, put into place by the Creator, which are at work throughout creation.  In expressing gratitude for these life-giving elements, and connecting themselves to the spiritual, the tribes repeatedly use the following words:

• balance
• harmony
• together as one
• support
• care
• provide
• sustain
• teach
• refresh
• guide
• one mind

The focus here is a stark contrast to the conqueror mentality.  It views the Creator not as One ruling over, reigning triumphantly, or vanquishing enemies, but as what is named: the Creator.  One who provides for, sustains, and unifies those in the Creator's care.  There is no victory or battle, but harmony and support.  There is no ruler mindset here.  At least not the kind we're used to.

To be fair, an appreciation of the power and ultimate authority of divinity isn't absent in other global spiritual disciplines.  There is a natural understanding in most faiths that God has power and authority.  Even in "The Words Spoken Before All Others", power and strength are referenced occasionally, as they are undeniable in the created world: "Water is life.  We know its power in many forms."  But power and strength are not the point.  The point, in spite of the Creator's obvious authority and power, is gratitude for, and unity with, the rest of creation.

"Today we have gathered.  We have been given the duty to live in balance and harmony with each other and all living things.  So now we bring our minds together as one as we give greetings and thanks to each other as people.  Now our minds are one.  [...] we turn our thoughts to the Creator and send greetings and thanks for all the gifts of creation.  Everything we need to live a good life is here on earth.  For all the love around us, we gather our minds together as one and send our best words of greetings and thanks to the Creator.  Now our minds are one." - The Ohenten Kariwatekwen (Haudenosaunee Thanksgiving Address or Words Spoken Before All Others)

Of course there are Christian texts which focus on the same.  A quick internet search of "one mind bible verses" will show that the concept above is found throughout our own spiritual text, for example in Philippians 2:

"... make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind." -Philippians 2:2

Yet I wonder if it would serve us as Christians to more intentionally set aside the language and mindset of rulership; I wonder if we ought to put purposeful effort into viewing God less as conqueror and more as Creator.  We model ourselves after the God we worship - should our aim be to become victorious or to become caretakers of the hearts and lives around us?  I believe we know the answer, but it's perhaps not an easy one in the Christian spiritual culture which has been built up over centuries.  It may be far past time to learn a few spiritual lessons from those who view God another way.

Unfortunately, that pervasive conqueror mindset has already relegated many of them to the past.

To All The Mothers ...

Motherhood takes many forms.  From creatures in the animal kingdom adopting orphaned babies outside of their species to step-mothers, grandmothers, families with two mothers, and mentors who serve as mothers, there are myriad paths to motherhood.  And yet the significance of the task remains the same - mother figures play a pivotal role in the shaping of our childhoods and lives.

image credit: Sukree Sukplang/ Reuters.com

Whether with your mother figures today in body or only in spirit, hopefully this is a day of knowing, because of their influence, that you are loved and known and cared for.  And in turn, that it inspires you to become that influence in the life of another.  It takes a village, as they say, and so much of the way we end up viewing the world is because of the relationships we have with those who have come before us.

Mothers have lived life, have seen and experienced so much more than we often know, and have stored up insights and perspectives we need.  God often cites the importance of keeping note of the things we've learned through experience for the specific purpose of passing it on to the children in our care:

"Only be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them fade from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them." - Deuteronomy 4

"...these words which I command you today shall be in your heart.  You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up." - Deuteronomy 6

"Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. ... his mother treasured all these things in her heart." - Luke 15  

Proverbs 31 is known for its description of an admirable woman - strong and hardworking and wise and compassionate.  But did you know that Psalm 31 begins with a recollection of words of wisdom offered to King Lemuel by his mother?  It's described as "an inspired utterance his mother taught him":

"Listen my son! ... Listen, my son, the answer to my prayers!  Do not spend your strength on women ... It is not for kings, Lemuel - It is not for kings to drink wine, not for rulers to crave beer, lest they drink and forget what has been decreed, and deprive all the oppressed of their rights. ... Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute.  Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy."

What an utterance!  I picture Lemuel's memory of these words, piecing them together from casual conversations held throughout his childhood where his mother voiced nuggets of advice sprinkled into the daily mundane moments of parenting.  Children remember those passing comments, the repeated refrains and mantras we pepper into our time with them almost without realizing it.  They take in the character of who we are, and find it in the recesses of their mind giving them guidance when they're grown and ruling over a nation.

The work of passing on hard earned insight doesn't fall only to mothers, but to any who find themselves in a parental role of influence.  To all those in a position to nurture, advise, care for, and raise a child, thank you, and happy Mother's Day. ❤️

San Sebastian

I've sat on this post for a week, intentionally.  Memories of spiritual trauma sometimes need time to marinate before being formed into words and sent out into the world, and even though the ones sparked by this post are minor in the grand scheme, they take a particular mindset to delve into at times.

Here's the thing - churches are flawed places.  Filled with flawed people.  As many have experienced, organized religion often becomes, in the hands of flawed people, an institution focused on exercising unfounded control and judgement on others' lives.  A place where we're told it's acceptable, and even desirable, to make definitive statements of spiritual judgement on the life of another; where we hear it's our role to evaluate the spiritual validity of another's thoughts and actions, and determine on their behalf the quality of their personal relationship with God.  Sometimes this happens out of a sense of misguided love, sometimes it's more purposefully manipulative, but regardless of the motivation, the result is usually the same.

The pain and trauma of having those around you speak negatively into your life with an authority claimed to be of God is uniquely difficult.  I think perhaps it's one of the gravest emotional wrongs we can cause one another - speaking for God in judgement of someone else.  God's not asking that of us, and the arrogance and audacity it takes to do so is a topic to be saved for another day.

For now, a walk down memory lane takes me to a boardwalk in San Sebastian, Spain, where I was traveling by myself after a long and frustrating few years in my church community.  At some point in most of our lives, we face uncertainty about whether we're on the right track in our lives and relationships, and after a lifetime of confidence in my faith and a God I knew well, doubts were beginning to creep in.  Years of hearing that the way I related to God was wrong, the places and ways I chose to do ministry weren't meaningful, the people I loved weren't worthy, my personality itself was sinful ... those things wear on even the most steadfast of people.  Maybe those constantly confronting me were right.  Maybe I was displeasing God.  I found myself broken, and questioning, and mulling over all these things in prayer as my music played on shuffle to the rhythm of the crashing waves in front of me.  And suddenly my music became my prayer:

"I haven't slept at all in days / It's been so long since we've talked / And I have been here many times / I just don't know what I'm doing wrong"

"What can I do to make you love me? / What can I do to make you care?"

As my prayers and doubts channeled themselves through its lyrics, this song walked me through letting go of the requirements others were putting on my relationship with God.  At a time when the "Christians" in my life were filled with judgement, gossip, slander, and expectations, it was easy to forget that none of those things describe God's heart or desires for me.  How often do we let God become defined by those who claim to represent spiritual things?  We find ourselves jumping through hoops or fearing conversational minefields, eventually believing this is what God wants from us.

But that mindset is unsustainable.  Whether out of exhaustion, or frustration, or hopelessness, we realize the hoops are unreachable, and any conversation can be exploited in a minefield.  It's a system designed for failure.

"There's only so much I can take / and I just gotta let it go / And who knows, I might feel better / if I don't try and I don't hope"

The Corrs brought my perspective into alignment in the bridge, which I'll share again here: 

"No more waiting, no more aching / No more fighting, no more trying ..."

"Maybe there's nothing more to say / And in a funny way I'm calm / Because the power is not mine / I'm just gonna let it fly"

There's a sense of relief that comes in letting go of pressure to do or say the "right" things to be acceptable to God.  A freedom in knowing our lives and faith aren't things to be curated or controlled for the purpose of gaining approval.  Freedom in Christ - isn't that what we claim it's all about?  The power rests with God alone, and isn't our burden to carry.

Every person's relationship with God is unique.  In my life, God chooses to speak to me through lyrics and nature.  If the beginning of this song was my prayer to God, the end of it was God speaking back.  After three and a half minutes of asking what I could do, what I could say, what I could change about myself to gain God's favor, the response was as simple as this:

"Love me."

Over and over, those lyrics resounding again, and again, and then fading into infinity.  That's what it boils down to.  No more.  No less.  It's worth another listen:

This was the beginning of the end of my allowing others to speak for God in our relationship, and although there was excessively more pain to come, as spiritual manipulation doesn't tend to roll over quietly, I left San Sebastian changed.  God had spoken with crystal clarity.

"...[W]hich is the greatest commandment ...?  ... Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.  This is the first and greatest commandment." - Matthew 22:36-38

That's it.  That's the requirement God has given.  In the times when the church stands in your way, and those around you begin to add to the message of grace, forgiveness, and love with requirements for your faith, remember the words of God alone.  God doesn't need you to jump through hoops or fit a certain ministry mold.  Let no one add to the message of God or distort the grace of Christ with their own demands.  (Proverbs 30:5-6, Galatians 1:6-9)

One Day ...

I'm irritated tonight honestly.  I want to share songs by Black artists which don't have injustice, oppression, inequality, or civil rights as their theme.  And I will.  But not tonight.

Those themes are unavoidable in 2020 and 2021.  I sit here continually brokenhearted over the state of violence in our country as I read headlines of the third mass shooting in as many days, analysis of bodycam footage of the killing of a 13 year old boy, remembering the recent death of a local unarmed Black man, all while the nation awaits news of a verdict in a trial for the murder of George Flyod.  And I know that beyond the theme of violence and the excessive prevalence of unnecessarily destructive weaponry, the themes of injustice, oppression, inequality, and civil rights are right there at the surface, inextricably linked.

When the nation has seen forty-five mass shootings in a single month, and our prisons are disproportionately filled with black and brown men charged with nonviolent minor crimes and held on unaffordable bails, it ought not be offensive to say: Our system is broken.

So why speak about things like injustice and oppression on a blog devoted to the intersection of faith and the arts?

Because these issues are intimately close to the heart of God.  Verse after verse of the Bible tout the virtues of justice, fairness, equality.  Chapter after chapter speak to God's disdain for oppression and systems which exploit the powerless.

"This is what the LORD says: Do what is just and right.  Rescue from the hand of the oppressor the one who has been robbed.  Do no wrong or violence to the foreigner, the fatherless, or the widow, and do not shed innocent blood in this place. ... Woe to him who builds his palace by unrighteousness, his upper rooms by injustice ..." - Jeremiah 22:3, 13

When people throughout history have faced persecution and injustice, we as a species have turned to the arts, to express what can't be said, or won't be heard, in other venues.  The spirituals sung by slaves being robbed of their God-given humanity and dignity.  The protest songs of those fighting for equal rights.  The pleas of the psalmist, hiding out in caves from those who sought to harm him.

We turn to verse, to song, to poetry, to filmmaking ... ways to give voice to something which must be spoken if God's sense of justice is to be believed.

The movie Selma raises the voice of the life and work of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and John Legend's song for the movie, Glory, featuring poet and rapper Common, connects that history with the present day.  Yolanda Adams' version is even more powerfully expressed:

" ... to the degree that you share the sufferings of Christ, keep on rejoicing, so that at the revelation of His glory you may also rejoice and be overjoyed." - 1 Peter 4:13

I look forward to a day when those who have been oppressed throughout time are lifted above me in the glory of God.  I haven't faced true injustice; those who have deserve the place of honor God promises.  In the meantime, I can do my best to lift their voices and causes above my own.

"... make my joy complete by being of the same mind, maintaining the same love, united in spirit, intent on one purpose ... with humility consider one another as more important than yourselves" - Philippians 2:2-3

If you are reading this blog as a person of faith, I challenge you to sit this week with your Bible and seek out God's views of injustice, oppression, and inequality.  They are deep and wide, and we as a faith community need to breathe them in until God's view is our view.  I'm not there yet, personally; I'm not speaking from a high place on the mountain of insight, but from the base of it, seeing the climb ahead.

If you're reading this from a different background - perhaps curious about faith, skeptical of "God's truth", or simply interested intellectually in the intersection of faith and arts, please know this: God is clear about the evils of injustice, and reserves the greatest honor and glory for those who society has wronged.  Christian faith is unequivocal on this.  Everything and everyone who shows you something different is not speaking for the God of the Bible, and those who spend their lives fighting for justice and equality, whether through a lens of faith or not, are.

"Take your evil deeds out of my sight; stop doing wrong.  Learn to do right; seek justice.  Defend the oppressed." - Isaiah 1:16-17

A Rudimentary Understanding of Sakura ...

Cherry blossoms are on my mind this week.  Understandably, as they're blooming beautifully right now in nearly every yard I see.  In addition, our COVID-times temporary homeschool geography unit is currently studying the Northeast region of the United States, including Washington D.C. and its stunning cherry blossom trees, and the kids and I created canvas paintings this week of cherry blossoms.  On top of all that, we've been filling in some landscaping gaps left by trees hit with disease last year, and a weeping cherry blossom tree is near the top of my latest google searches for what to purchase.

Needless to say, I have cherry blossoms on the brain.

The word for cherry blossoms in Japanese is "sakura", and they carry significance to Japanese history and culture in ways I surely won't understand in a day.  But as I've looked into the symbolism and importance of sakura, they've become even more beautiful to me, as I think most of God's creation does when we take time to sit with it, study it, and reflect on it.

"Day after day [the skies] pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge.  They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them.  Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world." -Psalm 19:2-4

Sakura are known to be a sign of spring, a symbol of renewal, and a reminder to embrace the delicately fleeting yet beautiful nature of life.  They blossom yearly in Japan between April and May, around the same time as the start of the Japanese school year, when everything feels fresh, and young hearts and minds are full of new hope.  As in the U.S., the springtime awakening of buds and blossoms brings a sense of renewal; sakura indicate the end of winter and another beginning.

The symbolism of sakura goes beyond that, though.  Cherry blossoms are a springtime showstopper, to be sure.  Stunning beauties, they can take your breath away when in bloom.  Yet their bloom is spectacularly short lived.  A cherry blossom tree blooms for merely ten days, before those tiny petals gracefully float and swirl their way down to the ground on the breeze.  In Japan, this serves as a reminder of the fragile beauty of life; the ephemeral nature of a moment of joy.  Japanese appreciation of sakura is linked to the Buddhist concepts of mortality, calling on viewers of the blossoms to exist in the present moment, because it will be all too fleeting.

This thoughtful natural reminder of life, death, renewal, and hope, is so cherished in Japan as to be the national flower, and the inspiration for countless works of art by Japanese poets, painters, filmmakers, and musicians.

"Gazing at them / I've grown so very close / to these blossoms; / to part with them when they fall / seems bitter indeed!" - Saigyo (Japanese poet & Buddhist monk)

As I see the cherry blossoms in my town in the United States this year, I hope I take a breath longer to appreciate their delicate beauty.  To observe them a little more carefully, a little more intentionally.  To reflect for just a moment longer on what it is to love something so beautiful, for such a short time, and to see in that reflection a glimmer of perspective on my own life in this beautiful world.  To see, in a flower, a fresh start, a new hope, a renewal of spirit ... and at the same time an urgency to be present, to be mindful, because the beauty of spring - for whatever you wish to take spring to mean - will one day fade, and float away into the breeze.

"Cherry blossoms fall / when the time is right / I too will fall / when it is time to go" - Roy Isami Ebata, 1919-1990

Easter 2021

I typically share art in this space which is less overtly spiritual than what I'm choosing to share today, on this Easter Sunday.  My reasoning is always that overtly spiritual art often feels inauthentic to the lived experiences of those who don't consider themselves religious, and even many who do.  My goal here is connecting God's truth to universally relatable situations and feelings, and the polished picture of perfect trust and happiness sometimes presented by Christian artists is unrelatable to the vast majority of us who live the messy lives of reality.  There's a fantastic book on art and the Bible, by Francis Schaeffer, which, in part, explores this disparity and addresses some of the issues with "Christian art".

Occasionally, though, there are works that lean toward the overtly spiritual which still manage to resonate deeply, because they carry that critical piece of authenticity.  They don't shy away from human doubt or fear; they aren't worried, as Schaeffer puts it, that they might "fall off the end of the earth" by pursuing challenging questions about God or faith or life.

Easter should challenge us.  Easter is a celebration of the story of a man who was brutally killed by an angry mob, then resurrected from the dead, who now brings salvation and eternal life to the world if one only believes.  That should challenge us.  That should give us pause and cause us to question, wonder, and yes, probably doubt.  It should cause us to dig deeper, to ask questions, to seek answers.  Again, as Schaeffer says, an "infinite, personal God who is really there" can handle it.  And if not ... wouldn't we want to know?

Poet Joanah Madzime explores topics like these with vulnerability and artistry.  She digs into what many Christian artists steer clear of.  She tells God directly, and honestly, that she's done.  She's over it, and has a compelling list of reasons why.  In the midst of boldly confronting the audacity of faith, she creates a striking conversation:

What would your honest conversation with God be today?  You're allowed to have it, whether you consider yourself religious, spiritual, agnostic, or atheist.  None of us will fall off the end of the earth by speaking honestly, in all the messiness of life, with a God who may or may not be there, and may or may not respond.  We have freedom to be authentic.  It can take any form; some of us call it journaling, some call it venting, some call it praying.  But above all, let it be called honest, because faith, or art, or life, without honesty doesn't benefit anyone.

Reckoning

If we've learned nothing else in the wake of the death of George Floyd last year, let us have learned to be more aware of discrepancies we used to turn a blind eye to.

For the sake of my own awareness, I've begun doing what I call audits, where I take a quick diversity check of the media I consume as well as the things I share.  Are minority voices represented?  Am I in an echo chamber that looks and sounds like me?  Of the voices I've chosen to amplify, is there relative balance in the number of cultures and demographics of people?

As I do an audit of this blog, it's painfully clear I've fallen short of my own standard.  Over the course of 10 Sundays I've written about exclusively white artists with the exception of one Asian-American dancer.  Those artists have spanned multiple cultures, as three were from Spain and one was from Russia, but is God's voice in the secular arts only found in white influences?  Of course not.  I just haven't been intentional in providing a wider cross section of artistic voices, and that's something I can change.

That's why I like doing this type of audit in my life - the solutions aren't unattainable, so long as we choose to be aware.  It takes intentionality, but all of us can do that.  Whether you are a teacher who chooses to do an audit of the readings and books and resources you use in your curriculum, or a retailer who audits the imagery in your store to see what faces are represented in your ads, this is work we can all take part in.

And this is Christ.  Do we doubt that he looked around a table of high-powered religious men and made a point to ask them where their servants were dining that evening?  Or why their wives weren't present?  Or did they invite that Samaritan they passed on the street to join them?  What about the eunuch, or the neighbor children?  Christ's message was clear: God's love can be found in the lives of all, and everyone should have a welcomed seat at the table.

"I see very clearly that God shows no favoritism. In every nation He accepts those who show reverence to Him and do what is right." -Acts 10:34-35

So as I hold myself accountable to the standard of Christ, I ask you to hold me accountable as well.

Now to the art.  Last year in my community, a project initiated by our arts council and local theatre evolved into an artistic masterpiece which spanned the city.  Titled #ArtUnitesCBus (a local affectionate term for Columbus), this project invited visual artists to paint murals in support of Black lives, justice, unity, equality, resistance, and hope.  The result was stunning, and undeniably of God.

One piece which stood out to me was this one, by artist Francesca Miller:

This painting stopped me in my tracks.  The emotion seemed to radiate off of it and into the space around me.  To be honest I felt a bit voyeuristic looking at it, as though I was an interloper in a private moment of connection between God and this man.  A moment of pain.  A moment of freedom.  A moment of longing.  A moment of triumph.  Something so personal, yet simultaneously the connection I was witnessing was meant to be public, like a performance dance, drawing us onlookers into our own connection with God vicariously through the figure's own reach.  Sometimes when I look at this piece I notice the pain and struggle.  Sometimes I notice the triumph and exaltation.  Every time I notice God.

"... I stretch out, reaching for you, and daily add praise to praise." -Psalm 71:14 (The Message)

"Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God ... who will not grow tired or weary. ... those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength." -Isaiah 40:28, 31

It's a powerful piece, given to the city during a powerful time of reckoning, which continues today.  I encourage whoever reads this blog now or in the future to take a look through more of the artwork from the #ArtUnitesCBus project, most of which has been archived.  Art has been a force for change throughout history, and this moment in time is no different.  The reckoning is needed.  The God I know is always in favor of a perspective revolution, especially when it brings us to self-awareness, honest humility, and unified love for those who are different from us:

"Don't copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God's will for you, which is good and pleasing ... I give each of you this warning: don't think you are better than you really are. Be honest in your evaluation of yourselves, measuring yourselves by the faith God has given you. Just as our bodies have many parts and each part has a special function, so it is with Christ's body. We are many parts of one body, and we all belong to each other." -Romans 12:2-5 (NLT)