New Insights on Grace and Discipleship, and on Grace and Community

Amazing Grace—it is a song and a concept I have known since childhood and which I experienced in a more profound way in my mid-20’s. Yet, I now recognize that God’s grace is vastly richer and deeper than I knew then. My understanding of grace is the most significant change in my theological thinking in the last ten years.

Salvation by grace not works, was perhaps the most significant belief in the Christianity I grew up in. Our experience of salvation rested on that truth and our evangelism focused on it. We conceived of grace as a gift with no strings attached. Therefore, we avoided any talk of human action related to the gift of salvation. In my youth I perceived that it was clarity on the truth that salvation was by grace and not by works that distinguished us from other streams of Christianity. From my bounded-group perspective, those who did not state this clearly enough were not truly Christians. And, people who thought they were going to heaven because they were good were definitely not Christians.

It is not that I now think salvation is by works not grace. I have not reversed my thinking. What I thought about grace was not fundamentally wrong. Rather, it is that I have come to see that the combination of individualism and a modern western concept of grace produced a narrow and watered down understanding of grace. When Paul wrote of God’s grace, he had in mind something deeper, richer, more communal, and more integrated with discipleship.

 Paul’s Concept of God’s Grace Compared to Others in the First Century

In 2016 I taught a course on Galatians at the Mennonite seminary in Bogota Colombia. When I was not teaching, preparing for class, or exploring Bogota with students, I read a book that had weighed down my suitcase: Paul and The Gift by John M. G. Barclay (2015). I had brought it along thinking I might garner an a few insights or quotes for the course. But what I read was so transformational I could not simply take Barclay’s insights and just sprinkle them as seasoning into my already prepared class. The paradigm change it provoked required more fundamental adjustments to my teaching of Galatians. So, I read, pondered and waited until my next Galatians course and my work on a commentary in English to integrate this new understanding of grace into my interpretation of Galatians.

Barclay explores in detail common understandings of grace, or gift,  in Paul’s time—both in Gentile and Jewish writings (gift and grace are the same word in Greek). The various perspectives had two things in common. First, gifts were given only to worthy recipients. In a society absorbed in status seeking and honor accrual, one gave gifts discriminately as a way of establishing or strengthening relationships and gaining honor. For instance, an invitation to a dinner was a gift,  grace; the attendees did not pay for the meal. But the host would only invite people who would improve their reputation. Low status people at the table would reflect poorly on the host, but having a high-status person accept their invitation would add to the host’s status. A worthy person could reciprocate and return the favor through a meal invitation or some other gift that would further add to the host’s honor. This points to the second thing that all understandings of grace had in common—a response was always expected. In Paul’s time, and still in many cultures today, the expectation is that if you receive a gift, you will give a gift in response. Reciprocity is necessary for continuing the relationship.

What was radical about the gift from God, the grace, that Paul proclaimed? How did it differ from other common understandings of grace at that time, including, for instance, the other missionaries he confronts in his letter to the Galatians? Barclay maintains that the distinction is in the first point above, worthiness, not the second, reciprocity. For people at that time, the shockingly different thing about the grace Paul proclaimed is that God does not limit the gracious gift to fitting recipients. God gives without regard to people’s social, gender, religious, or ethnic worth.

(For a fuller explanation of Barclay’s argument see pages 58-64 of my book, Freedom from Religiosity and Judgmentalism: Studies in Paul’s Letter to the Galatians, his shorter book, Paul and the Power of Grace 2020, or the original, Paul and the Gift  2015.)

 Compared to my Previous Concept of Grace, What is New about the New Understanding?

The view of grace I grew up with and held until I read Barclay’s book was correct to emphasize that we are incapable of making ourselves worthy of salvation through human effort. But we got off track by seeking to accentuate and preserve the radicalness of God’s grace by stressing the lack of reciprocity—no response is expected. We created a firewall between talk of grace and any talk of human actions. In contrast, Paul, accepted reciprocity. Like others of that time, he assumed that of course there were expectations of a response. Paul would applaud our emphasis that nothing we can do makes us worthy of God’s gift of salvation; but our avoidance of any linking of grace and human actions would puzzle Paul.  

 Key Questions

Paul’s first century audience would have assumed that God’s gift, like any gift, included an expectation of reciprocity. How might the Western, and relatively new, view that pure grace means no strings attached undermine or weaken the connection between salvation and discipleship?

Paul’s first century audience would have seen, and been shocked by, the new communal configurations that flowed from God’s grace including all regardless of social status. How might the combination of individualism and a focus on grace without reciprocity undermine or weaken the connection between salvation and community?

These questions arose from my first reading of Barclay. The potential impact of this different view of grace excited me. Although, I think I have done well at communicating Barclay’s argument in class and in my book, I have not made much movement beyond that. Now I am asking: How do we move from a conversation about the concept itself, to utilizing the concept in teaching, preaching, evangelism, discipleship?

 Answering these Three Questions Through the Lens of 2 Corinthians 8:1-15

An essay by Barclay himself stimulated further thought on the first two questions, and helped me begin to answer the third question. I am eager to share some of his insights and my reflections with you. His essay, “Manna and the Circulation of Grace” studies 2 Corinthians 8:1-15.[1]

 And now, brothers and sisters, we want you to know about the grace that God has given the Macedonian churches. 2 In the midst of a very severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity. 3 For I testify that they gave as much as they were able, and even beyond their ability. Entirely on their own, 4 they urgently pleaded with us for the privilege of sharing in this service to the Lord’s people. 5 And they exceeded our expectations: They gave themselves first of all to the Lord, and then by the will of God also to us. 6 So we urged Titus, just as he had earlier made a beginning, to bring also to completion this act of grace on your part. 7 But since you excel in everything—in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in complete earnestness and in the love we have kindled in you—see that you also excel in this grace of giving.

8 I am not commanding you, but I want to test the sincerity of your love by comparing it with the earnestness of others. 9 For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich. . .

13 Our desire is not that others might be relieved while you are hard pressed, but that there might be equality. 14 At the present time your plenty will supply what they need, so that in turn their plenty will supply what you need. The goal is equality, 15 as it is written: “The one who gathered much did not have too much, and the one who gathered little did not have too little” (NIV).

 As part of his exhortation to the Corinthian Christians to contribute toward the needs of Christians in Jerusalem, Paul writes about the Macedonian churches’ giving. At one level the text displays the societal norm that when you receive a gift you give something in return. The Macedonians received from God and they reciprocated. More significant are the ways that what Paul writes differs from first century societal practices.

 How Paul’s Description of Grace and Giving Differs from Norms of that Time

 -          The way of reciprocating for the grace/gift received from God is not giving something to God but paying it forward to others.

-          This is modeled and enabled by Jesus Christ (vs. 9). His model undermines and redefines honor and perspectives on how to gaining status. Jesus gave to others instead of grasping for status and honor.

-          Part of the richness received through Jesus Christ is this practice of giving to others. In an ironic way, an aspect of the grace received from God is the gift of giving to others rather than focusing on accumulating societal points through gifts from others. (Note how Paul begins his description of the Macedonians’ giving by labeling it as grace given them by God [vs. 1].

-          A fundamental factor relaxing the drive to grasp for status is that in contrast to societal practices, God does not measure the worth of the recipient before giving. As Barclay observes, “Since the surplus thus passed on does not arise out of any competitive grasping for advantage (but merely out of God’s equal generosity to all) it is possible that it can circulate in ways that produce neither competition nor status inequality” (422) (as in vs. 13-15).

-          There is reciprocity (having received, give) yet what is described in the above observations replaces a calculus of debt and obligation with a system of mutual sharing of surplus. Note that Paul does not use any language of direct reciprocity between the recipient and the giver, or between the client and the patron. He does not say, “since you received blessings from Jerusalem you should give them something.”

-          “Rather than one side being permanently the patron, and the other the ever-grateful client, each is patron to the other, or—perhaps better—each is equally the client of a surplus-providing patron (God), who gives, however, not in order to receive back but in order that grace be given on” (423).

“This principle of reciprocity, then, has the capacity to complicate power relations, and to work against the emergence of one-side systems of gift, patronage, or authority. . . This is not simply a normal honor hierarchy inverted; it is not that the honorable should be demeaned and the insignificant exalted, but something far more complex, and perhaps far more creative, in which community members continually invent ways to honor each other” (424-25) (see Phil. 2:3-4; Rom 12:10). Take a moment and imagine what it would be like to belong to a group where each member is not focused on being on top but rather in looking for ways to give to others and honor others. Imagine the gifts all will receive if all are focused on giving!

 Implications for Us Today

 Barclay’s interpretation of this passage aids in shifting from a concept of grace focused on the individual to one that includes a communal element. It also highlights that the radicalness of God’s grace is in its being given regardless of a person’s status or worth rather than in its disconnection from any human action. Previously the image I had of grace was more like a golden ticket given to an undeserving individual, or a guilty person given a pardon. These images do capture an element of God’s grace, but they leave out so much. They mislead through leading us to focus on an isolated individual—no one else is in the image. And, they mislead through lacking any sense of response. When the images are combined with modern western definitions of grace, any connection with human action is seen as a contaminant. It is no longer grace.

Barclay’s work has led me to think of an alternative image we might use in evangelism or explaining grace. We could invite people to imagine a person observing a group eating together. It is a potluck and the participants brought great food. The conversation is rich; people treat each other with kindness; their listening and their speaking overflows with love and respect. The person longs to have a seat at the table but they know they are not worthy. They do not belong. We might ask the listeners to list possible reasons the person might not feel worthy. We could then bridge to talking about God’s grace and affirm that the person truly is not worthy to join those sitting together at God’s family table. None of us can gain a seat through their own merit. Yet through what Jesus Christ has done we are all offered a seat at the table. It is grace, a gift! We might then ask them. “How might you respond to God for giving you an undeserved seat at the table?” We could acknowledge that there are a variety of appropriate responses and then state that what God most desires is that the beautiful table fellowship continue. They can help that happen by giving to others what they will receive at the table—great food and loving kindness.

 I invite you to reflect on ways a person’s concept of the Christian life would differ if this table image, rather than the golden ticket or get-out-jail-free card images, introduced them to the idea of salvation through grace. What are ways it connects salvation to community and discipleship that the other images do not?

Two caveats: First, this image, like any image, does not explain all. Other images and explanations are needed—for instance, how does Jesus provide the seat at the table and how does the Holy Spirit enable and empower the lovingkindness at the table. Yet, to simply say “all metaphors limp,” does not free us to use any image. There are consequences to using the golden ticket metaphor versus the table fellowship metaphor. Second, in case I have not made this clear: to embrace Barclay’s argument that Paul’s understanding of grace included a sense of human action as response does not mean I have shifted my definition of religion that contrasts human religiosity rooted in human action with biblical revelation/faith rooted in God’s action (see Centered-Set Church, 86-87 or Religious No More, 38-39). Even with this new understanding of grace, I still affirm that the initiative is God’s. We do not earn our salvation. We do not gain a gift from God through actions. It is not works first. This new deeper understanding of grace does, however, tear down the fire wall separating any discussion of human action related to salvation and opens up riches for both individual and community life as part of the flow of love that God’s initiative invites.

 My desire, for me and you, is that this understanding of grace moves from conceptual explanation to what Paul did in 2 Corinthians 8—integration with issues of discipleship and daily life. I pray the image I offer is one small step. Please share with me other steps we can take.

 Having received God’s radical grace let us share it in radical and profound ways with others.

[1] John M. G. Barclay, “Manna and the Circulation of Grace: A Study of 2 Corinthians 8:1-15,” in The Word Leaps the Gap: Essays on Scripture and Theology in Honor of Richard B. Hays, eds. J. Ross Wagner, C. Kavin Rowe, and A. Katherine Grieb, 2008, pp. 409-426. A significant part of the essay, which I do not write about here, explores Paul’s purpose in quoting Exodus 16:18.

Bonus Material: Things I Wish Were in the Book

Last week I had the wonderful opportunity to listen to my daughter Christie preach on the theme of community.  She included a brief explanation of bounded, fuzzy, and centered and shared the soccer example from Centered-Set Church (47). She stated that the players had to confront the offending player and tell her to stop picking up the ball. If not, they would not be playing soccer. Then Christie asked, “What are things that do not belong here if we are to experience rich Christian community? What are things we could not allow just as the soccer players could not allow someone to use their hands?” I thought, “What a great question. I wish I had included that in the book.” A society saturated in tolerance as supreme virtue gets nervous about any sort of confrontation telling someone they are out of line. Christie’s question not only led the listeners from the generality of the illustration to their real-life situation, it also facilitated a shift from the societal default to a stance of recognizing there are times we do need to say, “that does not belong here.”  

That was not the first time I heard or read something and thought, “That’s great. I wish that was in the book.” In fact, I have kept a list of them. In this blog I share the list with you. Most of them are short, a line or two, some a bit longer. May you find them useful as I have, and please send me items you think I could add to the list.

 Brad Isaak, a youth pastor, shared with me a line he has used when confronting youth about problematic behavior at youth group. He says to them, “if you do that here then here will be no different than anywhere else.” Similar to Christie’s question, Brad’s statement communicates that standards have value. Note the difference from bounded. Brad is not communicating, “If you want to be in, if you want to avoid shame, keep the rules.” Rather his statement has an invitational quality. It invites them to be part of making something of value that they will get to experience.

 Some great sentences:

“This is the very nature of God, that we work from the place of God’s blessing and love, not for it.” Dustin Maddox, 10/23/22, North Fresno Church

 “Jesus was not killed because of who he excluded. Jesus was killed because of who he included.” John Richardson, sermon, Prodigal Church 8/3/24

 To add to list of questions on pages 164-65 in book: “What is your next step?”  When I asked Dan Serdahl what are ways his church avoids fuzziness he told me they regularly use this question.

 “Few things could be more transformational than a community that devotes less energy to policing its borders and more to elevating and celebrating its glorious center of gravity.” Meghan Good, Divine Gravity, 115.

 Karl Barth in a letter to someone who had sent him a book they wrote critiquing others’ theology.  “You say many correct things. But what is correct is not always true. Only what is said kindly is true. You do not speak kindly in a single line.” Karl Barth Letters 1961-1968, p. 328

 “bounded progressive” – a phrase Megan Good used in a Jesus Collective webinar on centered-set church (2/23/23). I find it helpful in communicating it is not just conservatives, or legalists that are bounded.

 Illustrations of distinguishing the center from things not part of the center:

In the discussion time after my presentation at a regional event of the Reformed Church of America in Omaha (7/22/23), Jon Garbison, commented on how a church’s shared center is like overlapping sections in a Venn diagram. The parts that are not shared, need to be recognized and agreed on as non-essential.

 Meghan Good uses a dart board analogy. Bull’s eye represents what is most central and where there is total accord. Each ring out less so. That is not to say those things are not important, but that there can be differences. “There are also legitimate reasons for groups to separate when it becomes apparent they are operating with different bullseyes or even different outer rings. There is no ‘rule’ for exactly how much must be shared in order to cooperate. The decision will often be affected by a group’s specific mission. Mission goes awry when the people working together are aiming at different targets, flinging their darts crossways with each other. Some forms of mission may require only the bullseye be in common. Other forms of mission directly implicate the outer rings. The important thing to keep in mind is that it is possible to recognize that missions have diverged without lighting anyone else’s dartboard on fire” (111).

 David French, on the Russell Moore Show podcast, Sept. 4, 2024, said that in a pluralistic society you have a hard core but soft edges so you do not hurt others when you bump into differences. As he said that I thought, bounded churches have hard edges. A centered church has a hard core, but can have soft edges.

 Centered approach takes time

This idea is in the book, but Greg Applequist went deeper with the idea. This is an email he sent me after I spoke at the Evangelical Covenant Church Midwest Region’s pastor and spouse retreat last October.

 “As we spoke on Tuesday, the idea of time came to my mind.  To live in a centered church requires us to recognize that things take time.  I have found that when challenge comes, most people don't want to take the necessary time to sit in the middle of the challenge.  About 18 months ago we had a youth volunteer tell us he was transgender and was going to present as female.  As you can imagine, this was difficult.  There were immediate decisions we had to make (could she continue to work with students), but there were larger discernment we had to face as well.  As I think about that specific situation, to be a centered church would be to take time to know her story, explore the Scriptures, share our concerns/fears/hopes, understand what our students were facing in terms of sexual identity and so much more.  Many in our church simply wanted an answer, is it right or wrong, or as we can see now, is she in or out?  I wonder if people today are so concerned about being right or wrong that they don't have the patience or stamina to live in the grey (not the fuzzy) as we discern together how to move forward.  To be centered is to take the necessary time together.  I wonder if the greatest challenge to being centered is the immediacy that we all live with.  The tyranny of the urgent makes it much more difficult to live in the wisdom of the center.”

 Trajectory Principle: Directional vs. positional

Meghan Good, includes just a bit of explicit bounded, fuzzy, centered language in her book Divine Gravity, but the concepts are discernable throughout. I recommend the book to you. I find her language of “trajectory” and directional vs. positional especially helpful.

 Great questions: “What would change if you valued trajectory over position? Who or what might you see differently? (115).

 She uses Jesus’ parable of the Pharisee and tax collector to illustrate the trajectory principle (Luke 18:9-14). After reading her interpretation last year, I began using this parable in all my presentations of the centered-set church concept. I wish it was in the book. I commend it to you. In just a few minutes you can illustrate that Jesus was centered--not bounded or fuzzy.

 Luke makes clear that Jesus directs this parable at bounded-church types. “To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable . . .” The Pharisee in the parable displays exactly that attitude.

 If Jesus used the bounded approach, and looked at the men’s position in relation to the line, the Pharisee would be in—part of the group. The tax collector would be out—on the wrong side of the line. But referring to the tax collector Jesus says, “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God” (14). How can Jesus say it is the tax collector who is justified, included, in? Meghan Good observes that Jesus evaluated trajectory rather than position. The tax collector’s repentant attitude (“God, have mercy on me, a sinner”) displays a turning, an orientation toward God. In relation to the line, the Pharisee is compliant and in a good position, but his attitude displays that his orientation is not in line with the way of Jesus. He is headed the wrong direction. Jesus is not bounded; he is also not fuzzy. He does not say “let’s be tolerant; they are both fine.”

 Borrow, share, send me more

Please borrow and use these ideas. Please share this blog with those you know who have read the book Centered-Set Church. Are there people you know who have not read the book that would benefit from doing so?

Thoughts for Today from Reading My Old Letters

Historians often speak of spending hours in archives reading old letters filed away in boxes. As a contextual theologian, my research has focused on interviewing and observing people in the present moment, reading theology, and reading works on the context by social scientists. Yet in contrast to research for all my other books, during my sabbatical in the spring of 2023 I found myself reading through old letters filed away in boxes. The two boxes came from my parents’ garage. They were my letters. Thankfully, my father, like an archivist, had kept all the letters I had written to them during my college years and the years I lived in Honduras. I read the letters because I am working on a memoir. I will leave describing the memoir for another day (actually, it will likely be a few years). The letters provided material on themes I am exploring in the memoir, but reading them did much more than that. At times I cringed as I read statements I made in my 20’s. Other times I read with pride. Often, I felt compassion for that younger Mark Baker and, just as often, I would find myself smiling at similarities with the present--Mark Baker being Mark Baker. At times the twentysomething Mark would speak through those letters challenging my current self. From the many reflections I had reading the letters, in this blog I will share two.

Revise rather than total rejection

Living in Honduras stirred up and transformed my life in many ways. I read the letters with wonder and gratitude as I saw the many ways God used experiences to shape and mold me. In general I affirm the changes I made. Yet as I read the letters I often wondered if I abandoned more than I needed to when I left one position for another. In retrospect, I can see that often revision would have been better than total rejection. I will give just one example. During my first four years in Honduras I became increasingly critical of a gospel focused only on individual spiritual future salvation. Later, some reading and experiences led me to think critically not only of the content but also methods of evangelism. Like many in my circles, I stopped doing evangelism. Thankfully, in this case, the rejection did not last long. I began working with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship at Syracuse University. The job description included doing evangelism. That forced me to not just critique the way some other groups did evangelism on campus, but to work at developing evangelistic methods I did feel comfortable with. Working with IVCF led me to revise how I did evangelism rather abandon it. Unfortunately, in some other areas in my life I did not have an outside influence that pushed me to evaluate whether, even if correct in my critiques, I had rejected more than I needed to. I encourage you, and myself, to revise rather than totally reject. (As I wrote that sentence, I immediately felt the need to add a caveat. A voice within me said, “But Mark there have been some things you stepped away from totally, and appropriately so.” True, so, let’s not say to always revise rather than reject, but perhaps revision would be a better default starting point. And only after further discernment, perhaps rejection.)

I have changed, others might change too

Reading the letters reminded me of many ways I changed in those years. To list a few:

- I started college with a desire to get rich. Four years later I sought to live on as little as possible and give what remained of my salary to the poor.

- I arrived in Honduras a dispensationalist and changed significantly in just a few years. The changes from my dispensationalism included: a shift from a personal-spiritual-future gospel to a more holistic gospel, a shift from the Kingdom of God being a minor theme in my theology and Christian living to it being a major theme, and a shift from a negative view of Pentecostals to being open to the gifts of the Spirit and going to a Pentecostal church.

- In college I wrote a paper affirming the just war approach (not with much conviction, but also without any doubts). A few years later, after actually being in a war zone in El Salvador, hearing stories of massacres from survivors, and reading Jacques Ellul I embraced Christian pacifism.

I could list other changes, but these few are enough to make the point that I changed in significant ways. This served as a needed reminder and challenge; if I changed others can as well. Even though I have recognized this before, I still have a tendency to categorize some people based on a piece of information. For instance, at times I make assumptions about people’s theology based on what seminary or university they attended, what denomination they are in, or, at times, even based on what Bible translation they use. That is problematic itself, most of us are more complex than one of those factors might imply. But what is more problematic is my tendency to assume what they were is what they are, and what they will be. What if I applied this to myself? I would be correct to assume that because Mark Baker went to a dispensationalist church he was dispensationalist when he was 20 years old. But wrong to think that means he is still dispensationalist. Yet, I at times do that with others. I changed, perhaps others have changed too—or perhaps they will.

I had an internal argument with myself as I wrote the previous paragraph—and not just because it is embarrassing to acknowledged this. A voice in my head was saying, “But Mark, that can’t be true. Clearly you do expect people to change. You write books, teach classes, and write blogs with the expectation that they will influence people and that people will change.” True, and I think the openness and hope I have that people will change is more prominent in my life. Yet, the reality is that vestiges of my bounded-church past still have a pull on me. In what I described above, they lead me to focus on positional thinking rather than directional thinking. This displays the laziness inherent in a bounded approach. It seizes on a particular item and draws conclusions, rather than digging deeper to discover trajectory and ask what direction the person is heading. May we avoid easy/lazy categorization and let us not give up on people.

An important caveat: change is not automatic or guaranteed. A call to not make assumptions about people because of something in their past, and to not assume people will remain in the same position they are now is not a call to passivity. I changed because of experiences I had, because of questions people asked me, because of books people put in my hands, because of observing others, etc. With an awareness that people can change, let us be open to ways the Spirit may lead us to contribute to others taking transformative steps in a journey toward our center—Jesus Christ.

How Can We As Individuals Live in a More Centered Way?

I regularly state that you can’t do a centered approach alone. A small group leader can’t by themselves make the group centered. If others in the group are bounded, the group will have a bounded character. Yet, what we do at the individual level still matters. What happens if rather than looking at the whole diagram above we look at just one individual? What can we do to treat ourselves in more centered ways? How can our individual discipleship have a more centered character? I address these questions in this 13-minute video.

Image taken from Centered-Set Church: Community and Discipleship Without Judgmentalism, by Mark D. Baker. Copyright © 2021 by Mark D. Baker. Used by permission of InterVarsity Press. www.ivpress.com.

Freedom from the Pull of “Everyone is Doing It”

“But Mom, everyone is doing it.” “But Dad, everyone has one, I am the only one who doesn’t.” Take a moment and think back to times you said those lines (or similar ones: wearing that, listening to that, going there, etc.). If you are a parent, take a moment and recall times your children said those lines. It takes tremendous resolve for a parent to stand firm, especially if the statement is basically true. Let’s imagine, however, that only half of the child’s peers had one, or were doing the activity in question. What changes? It is a lot easier for the parent to turn aside the plea by simply pointing out that reality. But even more significantly, the child would feel much less pressure and might not even make the plea in the first place. This dynamic is at the heart of what social psychologist Jonathan Haidt calls the collective action problem. . It is difficult to stand alone against a collective, but we can if we join with others. For instance, recognizing the significant mental health issues exacerbated by social media, especially for girls, a parent might want to keep their child off social media. But when the child says, “But Mom, everyone else is on social media” (and they are) it is a huge challenge. Haidt says, “but what if we join together and agree to not give our children smart phones until they are in high school and no social media until they are 16? Think how the dynamic would change if half the families in a town practiced that?” I heard Haidt say that on this podcast where he was talking about his new book, The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness . There is much more on the podcast, well worth listening to, but I want to think about just this one idea of responding to the collective action problem. What might happen if we practiced it more explicitly in churches, and not just in relation to smart phones?

Christian communities already support each other in standing against the current of society through collective action, even if the label is not used. Even just the reality of gathering on a Sunday or in small groups during the week is collective action. It is not what most of society does, but being part of a collective that does it makes it feel less abnormal. Giving hard earned money to the church is another example. Knowing others do it helps normalize an action that many in society would view as foolish. We could, however, be more explicit. Imagine what might happens if we explicitly named the contrast between the way of Mammon and the way of Jesus, and collectively took on the challenge to spend less and give more for a certain period of time—with regular times of reflecting and sharing about the experience.

Perhaps, however, rather than choosing some action I might suggest, the best thing for your community to do is to reflect on where you have the hardest time resisting forces of alienation. Reflect and share where the current has caught you up and swept you along in societal practices that hurt you and others—that keep you from living as God created you to live. Then, together decide on collective actions in line with the way of Jesus. Together you can more easily resist the current.

This reminds me of a quote I have shared in the last class of my ethics course for many years. Lois Barrett writes, “The church as an alternative community can make a powerful witness when it chooses to live differently from the dominant society even at just a few key points. An important task of the church is to discern what are those key points at which to be different from the evil of the world” (Missional Church, ed. Guder, 127).

Collective action in a church, however, can easily slide into bounded group judgmentalism. In my high school years, the collective of church youth did make it easier for me to stand against the current of cheating at school, stealing at work, or abusing alcohol. That was positive. But, as I recount in the first chapter of Centered-Set Church, my bounded-church mentality fostered judgmentalism towards those who behaved differently. That was negative. Therefore, let us wrap these collective actions in God’s love. First, we begin with a concept of ethics as gift. God calls us to live in counter cultural ways out of love for us and others. We work from a place of God’s love, not to earn God’s love. Second, assured of God’s mercy, we treat others and ourselves with grace when we fall short.

Reconciliation: Broadening its Meaning (a video)

When many Christians encounter the word “reconciliation” in Paul’s writing they think of it only in a vertical sense—with God. An article by Miroslav Volf sparked an idea of how we might help people see that Paul had both vertical and horizontal implications in mind. I explained my idea in class through quickly-drawn images on the whiteboard. Yuya Ono, a current MA New Testament student at Fresno Pacific Biblical Seminary, took my rough images and greatly improved them for this 12-minute video I made to explain my idea.

Volf’s article: “The Social Meaning of Reconciliation” Interpretation, April 2000, 158-172.

A shorter version of Volf’s essay is available at: https://digitalcommons.georgefox.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1726&context=ree

Heal the Divide: Turn Away from an Honor System that Wounds

Of the many things that create division in the United States today, Chris Arnade argues that the divide between front row and back row America we should pay more attention to is. He borrows the image from the classroom. Front row students are eager to learn and make sure the teacher knows they are learning. They want to achieve and get ahead. They leave home to accumulate educational credentials. They expect to continue moving from city to city to seek financial success—a shared goal and measuring stick whether one is from the right or left. In contrast whether because it was not their thing or because of barriers thrown up by realities beyond their control, the back row students do not flourish in school. They dream of graduating from high school, getting a stable job and raising a family in the community they grew up in. Today, however, many of their hometowns have hit hard times and good jobs are disappearing. 

After getting a Ph.D. and working on Wall Street for 20 years, Arnade stepped out of front row America. He quit his job and hung out with back row people. He first focused on a neglected corner of New York City and the drug addicts who lived there, then he traveled across the U. S., visiting towns and cities in decline. Taking a seat in the back row he found people, all across the country, who felt rejected and stigmatized.

I read his book, Dignity: Seeking Respect in Back Row America while also reading David deSilva’s book on honor and shame in the New Testament world. DeSilva’s book led me to write my previous blog on the importance of honoring other Christians’ efforts to stand against the current of societal ways. Arnade’s book led me to think about the church’s call to lessen the dignity deficit of those in back row America. Rather, however, than simply writing a blog that calls us to look for ways to shower them with respect, I want to first follow Arnade and David Brooks in asking how front row people, like myself, may inadvertently contribute to the dignity deficit.

In a recent column David Brooks asked, “What if We’re the Bad Guys Here?” Brooks, a conservative and never-Trumper, states that people in his circles view Trump supporters as the problem. He does not fully reject that, but proposes that he and his peers are a greater part of the problem than they acknowledge. I recommend the full essay, but will quote just a few lines that relates to what Arnade describes in his book:

“The ideal that we’re all in this together was replaced with the reality that the educated class lives in a world up here and everybody else is forced into a world down there. Members of our class are always publicly speaking out for the marginalized, but somehow we always end up building systems that serve ourselves. The most important of those systems is the modern meritocracy. We built an entire social order that sorts and excludes people on the basis of the quality that we possess most: academic achievement.”

Similarly, Arnade writes, “The educational meritocracy is a well-intentioned system designed to correct massive injustices that enslaved, demeaned, constricted, and ranked people based on the color of their skin, sexuality, and gender. Yet in attempting to correct a nasty and explicit exclusion, we have replaced it with an exclusion that narrowly defines success as all about how much you learn and then earn” (234). He observes that the back row is left with little to take pride in that doesn’t need credentials—credentials they do not have (212).

I have lived the reality that Arnade describes. Some years ago on a visit to my hometown, front row Mark, with all my degrees and my professor job, walked down the block to visit my high school bus-stop friend Carlos. He fit Arnade’s back row description—still living on the same street and working at the same grocery store he had in high school. Yet, I was not sensitive to Carlos’s dignity deficit; it was not on my radar. However, in the even harsher status divisions in Honduras I did recognize people’s dignity deficit. I sought to pour honor into those with lower status. For instance, I knew that mechanics, doing manual labor and covered with grease, had low status compared to office workers. I intentionally regularly commended Edgardo, my mechanic, on his knowledge about cars that far surpassed mine. Aguinaldo was a partner in ministry and expert in regenerative agriculture methods—both in practicing them and teaching them to others. Yet, society saw him as just a peasant farmer with little formal education. Whenever he visited us or we visited him I would ask for tips on my compost pile and garden. I sought to counter shaming societal voices and called him my teacher, my agronomist. 

I did well to affirm Edgardo and Aguinaldo as I did. Let us, with intentionality, do what I did and look for ways to affirm and show respect to back row people. Yet, through the lens of Brooks’s and Arnade’s words I now see my efforts in a different light. Note what I did in each case. I sought to give them front row credentials. It was like I was giving them an honorary degree. I do not regret those actions. I urge you to look for ways to do the same. But let’s do more than that.

As Arnade spent more time with and listened to back row Americans his perspectives shifted. At first, he saw those languishing economically in dying towns as lacking in imagination and initiative. (“Why don’t they leave and go somewhere they could get a better job!?”) But with time he came to recognize that many had intentionally decided to stay. Other values, such as caring for family members or connections in the community, drove their decision to stay. Living successfully according to those particular values does not, however, provide credentials or a sense of pride in the front row meritocracy that Brooks and Arnade describe.

My giving “honorary degrees” to Edgardo and Aguinaldo was a good thing. Rather, however, than just working to give them morsels of dignity according to the norms of the front row meritocracy, let us work to dismantle the meritocracy machine that is wounding them.

I do not mean by that to trash all the components of the system. I am an educator. I am grateful for all I have learned as a student and the opportunities I have had to teach. I think we do well to enable people to have educational opportunities and gain credentials. What I feel called to dismantle is the monopoly that the meritocracy machine has on so many people’s conceptions of success and thriving. Breaking up that monopoly does not mean abandoning the all the values, but relativizing them.

My sense is that for those of us in the front row, the values of the meritocracy machine are so much the water we swim in that we often do not recognize how they shape theway we evaluate others. Therefore, it will require intentionality to affirm values not honored by the meritocracy machine. As followers of Jesus, we have an advantage. We have a ready supply of alternative values we can honor in others and they are values as likely to be found in the back row as in the front. 

How do we end the deep sense of division and the rejection and stigmatization felt by those in the back row? We can’t get credentials for them all, not even honorary degrees. We can, however, look at them through the lens of the beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount and affirm them for ways their lives line up with the values of the Kingdom of God. We can invite them into a church community where in Jesus there is neither front row people nor back row people (Gal. 3:28).

Arnade began his journey through back row America as an atheist. After years of talking with back row people, who often took him to their churches, he shifted—not yet a believer, but pondering. He had seen the value of faith and especially of churches—often small storefront churches. He observed that churches were the only places on the streets that regularly treated back row people like humans and where they did not need credentials to be accepted. So, if an atheist author sees the church as an antidote to the shame and rejection of the meritocracy machine, how about us? Yet, a key observation: the churches he visited were generally filled with and led by back row people. A church with many front row people has the same potential, perhaps even greater potential, to heal the shaming wounds of the meritocracy machine, but also greater challenges to becoming the sort of environment Arnade describes.

Let us intentionally shift from the values of front row society as we look for things to affirm in others. And, let us bar the values of the meritocracy machine from entering our churches and instead recognize the great potential churches have to heal division through being spaces where people are honored for living out the values of Jesus rather than possessing meritocracy credentials.

Addendum: An example of a front row person changing and viewing someone through the lenses of Jesus values rather than meritocracy values.

In the midst of her career as an economics professor Mary Hirschfeld converted and became a Jesus follower. She then completed an additional Ph. D. in theology. I shared a parable from her book, Aquinas and the Market in an earlier blog. In that book she describes coming to know Hector, a prominent member of her Catholic parish. She writes, “As it turns out, he was also a gardener at the college where I worked. Until then, I had thoughtlessly paid no mind to the gardeners and janitors who worked hard to maintain a beautiful campus. I simply failed to value work that had little status in society. . . But as I came to know Hector, I came to realize that economic and social status is a very poor measure of a person's worth. Hector was a wise leader of our parish community. Surely the Christian call to deal with poverty extends to the demand that we recognize the value of what people do apart from the incomes they happen to earn by doing it. Yes, we can pay gardeners more. But a big part of what matters is the respect we accord them and the cultivation of our ability to see the wealth—which is the true sort of wealth—that the poor have to offer us” (187).

Let's Honor Each Other More

Think back to your junior high or high school days. What group were you in? What group did you want to be in? Can you recall a time when you felt not just “in” but had a strong sense of others approving of what you had done, what you were wearing, or what you said? You probably did not use the word “honor,” but that is what your peers did—they honored you. We could say that what the group affirmed is what it considered honorable. How about the opposite, can you recall a time when you did not wear the right clothes, did the wrong thing, or said the wrong thing? Can you recall a time when you, or your whole group, were excluded or looked down upon by another group? In those moments you likely felt shame. If you made a list of behaviors that a group encouraged or discouraged, that would be the group’s honor code. All societies have some expressions of an honor-shame dynamic, others are saturated with honor-shame dynamics. That was the case in the cultures we find in the Bible.

In a sense we could say, that in contrast to my high school experience of peer pressure in parts of my life, all of life in the New Testament world was lived within the dynamics of honor and shame. From birth people were shaped to be concerned about what others thought of them and to live out what others see as honorable. To compare honor-shame cultures to my high school experience is not imply they are less developed. All societies have means of influencing people to embrace and live out the values of that society. More individualistic cultures use means of influence that are different, but not more advanced or better than collectivist honor-shame cultures.

Let’s return to high school peer pressure but imagine it in a bit different way. What if rather than various groups having different values and standards, most everyone’s definition of desirable behavior and appearance was the same except for one small group that did the opposite and refused to dress like everyone else. When there are various groups, people have more space to live differently without shame. But imagine the ridicule and shame this handful of teenagers would experience if everyone else in the high school shared values and behaviors that this group did not live out. That captures the experience of Christians in the first-century Roman world. Although it was a diverse society, in broad swaths of life most people shared a common conception of what was honorable, who had high status and who did not. Like high school groups, society shamed and excluded people who did not comply. Their motivation to shame and pressure others was especially great in areas people sensed that dishonorable behavior threatened the peace and security of the town or city—like not participating in religious and cultic practices.

David deSilva, author of Honor, Patronage, Kinship, and Purity: Unlocking New Testament Culture, invites us to imagine the immense shaming pressure a group of 30 Christians would have felt as they adopted definitions of honorable behavior in tension with those held by the other 150,000 people in Ephesus. Biblical writers recognized this reality; deSilva states that New Testament authors spend significant amounts of their letters shoring up Christians suffering from shame, exclusion, and pressure from the dominant society. The apostles do not simply hand down a list of rules for living the way of Jesus. They work to develop an alternative court of reputation that affirms and honors Christians for following the way of Jesus and offsets the shame they feel in the societal court of reputation. 

Let us learn from the example of the New Testament authors. It is not enough to simply make pronouncements about the way of Jesus. Let us take more seriously the ways societal “peer pressure” pulls people away from the path of Jesus. 

First, like New Testament authors, we must recognize ways the honor code of society differs from the honor code of Jesus. Think for instance of how advertisements seek to honor some actions and shame others, and how they are in tension with Kingdom values; or, how social media peer pressure shapes behavior. Of course, like different groups in high school, different social media tribes will have different values or honor codes. Think of who is honored with high status in your societal context and what behaviors and attitudes that reinforces. Many of you live in settings where greater respect is given to those who affirm an individualistic do-your-own-thing spirituality and morality than to those who identify as Jesus followers and attend a church.

It is not enough, however, to just recognize the competing honor codes. Let us also follow the New Testament authors in actively building an alternative court of reputation. To not do so would be like a high school group that stated how their values differed from other groups but did nothing to affirm those who complied or shame those who did not. If no status is gained, if one does not feel more sense of being “in,” why embrace the values?—especially if another group would shame you for those behaviors. 

What are ways we can, in a centered way, more regularly honor and affirm people for following Jesus and going against the current? What are regular practices your Christian fellowship might adopt to counter the shaming pressures people feel to go with the current? I urge you to join me and pray for the Spirit to guide you to see opportunities this week to affirm others for their against-the current actions and attitudes.

 1 Apollos Watered Podcast, #195, David deSilva  July 25, 2023, minute 30. https://apolloswatered.org/episode/195-are-we-living-for-biblical-honor-or-worldly-success-pt-1-david-desilva/  I recommend deSilva’s book, Honor, Patronage, Kinship, and Purity, and the podcast.

Learning From the Trees

On a recent backpacking trip, I spent a couple hours observing Sierra Juniper trees. It was a time of wonder and reflection. Part way through the time I asked, “what might I learn from these trees?” Rather than writing about the insights, I made a seven-minute video that includes numerous pictures of these amazing trees and lessons I learned from them. Watch the video here.

Centered-Church Story: My Expectations Were Too Low

The communion service moved me to tears. Being back in Honduras and worshiping with the people of Amor Fe y Vida church would be moving enough, not to mention that Arely Cantor, the pastor serving communion, had participated as a teenager in the studies of Galatians I led in that church in 1992 and 1993. It was, however, “Carmen” coming forward to receive the elements that especially moved me. It struck me that if the church had not worked to shift from a bounded to centered approach after our studying Galatians together, Carmen would have remained seated all these years while others from the church went forward. She would have remained on the shameful side of the bounded-church’s line.

As I recount on pages 44-45 in Centered-Set Church Carmen faithfully attended church but was not allowed to participate in the Lord’s Supper or serve in any leadership role because she was not married to her common-law husband. The study of Galatians propelled the church to shift away from bounded line-drawing. Church leaders visited Carmen and discerned that she was clearly oriented toward Jesus the center. She wanted to get married but her partner refused. She had been faithful to him during their, at that time, 17 years together. They invited Carmen to participate fully in the church. Today she serves on the church council. I have often reflected on and celebrated this positive fruit of Amor Fe y Vida’s centered approach. But I had not before imagined the alternative. What if Amor Fe y Vida was still bounded? Carmen would have lived draped in shame all these years. Tears came to my eyes as I saw her standing before me freed from that shame and receiving communion.

I felt even greater emotion when I saw who stood behind Carmen, next to receive communion —her husband “Rafael.” 

Although Carmen had been faithful to Rafael, he had several affairs over the years. Carmen had requested numerous times that they get married. He said “no” every time. She decided to stop asking, but prayed all the more that he would change his ways and marry her. Four years ago, at his initiative, he suggested they get married. Although he did not yet consider himself a Christian, he declared that Amor Fe Vida would be his church and wanted a church wedding. In terms of the centered-set church diagram would could say he was far from the center, but his arrow had begun to turn—slowly. He occasionally visited the church, but a year and a half ago he started coming regularly, made a confession of belief in Jesus, and 6 weeks ago he was baptized. After communion, during a time of sharing, Rafael stood and expressed his gratitude for being part of this church. The pastor told me he does this regularly. Rafael has said that since walking with Jesus he no longer feels the pull of pursuing other women. Although older and suffering from diabetes, Rafael is eager for opportunities to serve in the church.

I was deeply moved, but also challenged by seeing the married, baptized Rafael. The reality is that although I have told Carmen’s story numerous times, I have never thought about nor prayed for Rafael. I celebrated that Amor Fe y Vida’s centered approach had freed Carmen from shamed status and freed her to more fully serve. But when telling the story I had never said, “and let us pray that the gravitational attraction of Jesus, and the centered approach of Amor Fe y Vida will pull Rafael into a relationship with Jesus that will change his relationship with Carmen. Rafael’s standing before me receiving communion challenges me to have even greater expectations of the potential of a centered approach and, especially, of the transformative power of the God of the center.

Mario, the former pastor of Amor Fe y Vida that had led their transition from bounded to centered told me of other stories of the fruit of a centered approach. “Elena’s” marriage had broken and ended. When she remarried, her bounded church shamed her and ended her leadership and teaching roles in the church. Later, however, other leaders discerned her Jesus-centeredness and invited her to once again teach Sunday school. She later became the leader of the entire Sunday school, and eventually planted a church.

Mario is currently involved in a church plant himself in Talanga, his hometown near Tegucigalpa. It meets in a home. As Mario described it more I realized it was a church of refugees from bounded churches. Most all of them had not been attending church. Half the group were involved in a marriage that in one way or another did not meet the common Honduran bounded church standard. They tired of their shamed status and left their churches. A few of them had visited Amor Fe y Vida and asked Mario to start a church like that in Talanga. Do you know any bounded church refugees that you might invite to experience the life-giving experience of a centered church like these people in Talanga?

A number of years ago Iglesia Amor Fe y Vida changed their name as part the process of becoming legally recognized—another church had already filed under that name. Today their name is Viviendo en Amor y Fe, but I continue to use their original name to aid readers in making the connection with the church mentioned in my books.