As a young man I was gifted in science and math, so naturally I gravitated towards those subjects in college. When I first started my undergraduate education, I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted to be. I went from teaching, to chemistry, to pharmacy, and I'm sure I've missed a couple. But even if I didn't know exactly what I wanted to be, I was sure it would deal with science. And as I grew in my knowledge of the sciences, I found it conflicting with the creation narrative I'd brought to college with me.
I've grown up in the Christian church. With the exception of a few years in my early twenties, I have been a lifelong church-goer. And there were times when Christian leaders would say something that I went along with, but didn't really agree with. The Biblical narrative of creation was one of those things. I found many ways to justify my thinking: What is a day to God? How long did Adam and Eve live in the garden? But the facts were before me, and those facts were defined by scientific reasons for existence.
At best, I was a theistic evolutionist. I believed there was a higher power that put creation into motion, but not exactly as Genesis 1 in the Bible lays it out. How else do you explain dinosaurs and common traits between species? No, evolution and the big bang theories were clearly the answer. And when we all die and go to whatever is after life, the deity behind it all would be there to give us the details.
But the first challenge to my way of thinking happened in fall of 2005. It wasn't at church or a Bible study. It was in my microbiology class, at the University of Missouri - St. Louis. We'd gotten to the portion of the semester where we began to really study bacteria. At the risk of sounding like a complete nerd, I became fascinated by how elegant these simple little forms of life are. They are just so perfect. Their single ring of DNA allows them to adapt to just about any environment-there are bacteria that live in volcanoes, after all.
As I put that into perspective, I was somewhat hurt. If these simple forms of life -- that existed before all other forms of life -- can adapt to so many extremes, then why would they ever evolve into something more complex and less stable? Becoming a more complex and multiple-cell organism, at least to me, seems counterproductive to evolution. If you think about humans, we need our environments to be perfect in order to live.
My questions about simple and complex organisms led to many other questions, and in trying to find answers I seemed to only find dead ends. Nothing added up. The whole mechanism of evolution began to crumble in my mind. I was on hiatus from church at this point, but the things I once considered facts were looking more and more like creative constructions that people came up with to explain how we got here.
And the most important question was unfulfilled. Why? People will downplay the importance of purpose in life, but everyone wants to feel like they matter, regardless of what they believe.
This went on for about three years. I can only see the way that things proceeded as providential. I picked up a second job at the church I grew up in. They needed a night porter, and I needed a little extra cash to support my partying. After a couple months on the job, a weekly young adult Bible study started up during the hours I was working. I didn't think it would hurt to poke my head in to see what they were talking about. Time passed; things happened. Most importantly, I began reading my Bible again. And then lightning struck.
The biblical narrative reveals a very personal God -- a God that interacts with and intervenes in His creation on a constant and continual basis. The Bible reveals a God that would never sit back and watch how things unfolded. Instead, God is always proactive. He anticipates our every move, and actively participates in the process. The theistic evolutionary deity I once believed in was dead on the spot.
I continued studying the sciences. I am a pastor now, with a Master of Divinity. But my bachelor's degree is in chemistry. Some people think that science and theology don't mix, but that is a mistake. As I continued to study the world, the biblical narrative of creation came alive -- especially from a scientific perspective.
I remember chemistry videos in high school that showed two random hydrogen atoms finding the oxygen atom that they were looking for their whole lives, so that they could bond and make water. But there's so much more going on. Electrons are aligning themselves in the perfect position, and the atoms are colliding with just the right amount of force. And, this is just water. Again, simple yet elegant. Also, I can't accept that water being less dense when frozen, which allows life to exist in our oceans, lakes, and rivers, is a coincidence. It seems to me like a personal and active God made it that way. Which pointed me back to Genesis 1.
It can be hard to accept with all of the other narratives. I get that. But to me it just makes the most sense.
Written by Micah Glenn
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Tuesday, March 17, 2020
Tuesday, March 3, 2020
The Bible for Grown-Ups
What do Americans really think about the Bible?
It's tempting to think of it as a collection of stories not very relevant to our contemporary lives. But if we do think that way, we'd be missing a lot.
Every year the Barna Group, a polling organization that has an interest in religion, comes out with some fascinating facts about the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures (otherwise known as the Old and New Testaments).
The number of those who report being either "engaged" (they read the Bible four or more times a week, and think of it as God's Word) and those who are skeptical (it's just another book of human teachings) are so close that they almost cancel each other out. But the numbers of Americans who have a friendly or a neutral view of the Bible is much larger than either of the other groups. About 13 percent of Americans are hostile to the Bible, believing it was meant to manipulate and control people.
Women and older Americans are more likely to be heavily invested in Bible reading. Though nine out of ten of us own one, the way we read the Bible may be changing, with interest in online formats and Google searches growing.
More than half of us wish we read the Bible more often than we do, says Barna.
Perhaps if we did, we'd find some stories with strong, complex characters that open our eyes -- not only to the world in which they lived, but to our own.
There is Jacob, the ambitious and sometimes unscrupulous younger brother of Esau, who wrestles with a mysterious man at the ford of the Jabbok River in Genesis 32:22-32 and lives to tell the tale. We live in an age of ambition. When is it healthy and when is it harmful?
While men mostly play leading roles in the Bible, the Hebrew Scriptures offer a number of women making decisions that change the course of biblical history, from the prophet/judge Deborah in the four and fifth chapter of Judges, to the Persian queen Esther who plays an important role in saving the Jewish people (her cousin Mordecai helps foil a plot to kill the king in the book of Esther), to Mary the mother of Jesus and the outspoken Samaritan woman getting water from a well in the New Testament. These women are nothing if not smart and resourceful.
There are prophets we come to know in the books named after them, as they beg God to be merciful and hold God's people accountable for their misdeeds. Perhaps we have had someone like a Hosea or a Jeremiah in our own lives -- a person we respected and perhaps feared at the same time.
Then there are characters about whom we know very little, like the thief (the so-called "good thief") who is crucified next to Jesus and recognizes Him, even in these last moments of his own life, as someone holy. Many of us are aware of how very easy it is to go astray, in spite of everything we have been given, and find ourselves in a frightening place -- one in which we may not even recognize ourselves. Who inspires us to change our course in these dark times? Have we known people in whom we recognize a profound goodness, one that attracts us to them?
If you are one of the nine out of ten people who has a Bible lying around, you might want to follow up and take a deeper look at some of the characters mentioned here. There are many, many others. When we are prone to see Scriptures as a set of "do's and don'ts" (and there certainly is moral teaching in it), we may be more prone to avoid getting in too deep. But the moral teaching of the Scriptures makes more sense if you understand the real-life dilemmas of the people who inhabit its pages.
Once they come to life for you, they may take you places you never thought you'd go. The Bible as an adventure story? Nothing in the least bit old-fashioned about that.
Written by Elizabeth Eisenstadt Evans
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
It's tempting to think of it as a collection of stories not very relevant to our contemporary lives. But if we do think that way, we'd be missing a lot.
Every year the Barna Group, a polling organization that has an interest in religion, comes out with some fascinating facts about the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures (otherwise known as the Old and New Testaments).
The number of those who report being either "engaged" (they read the Bible four or more times a week, and think of it as God's Word) and those who are skeptical (it's just another book of human teachings) are so close that they almost cancel each other out. But the numbers of Americans who have a friendly or a neutral view of the Bible is much larger than either of the other groups. About 13 percent of Americans are hostile to the Bible, believing it was meant to manipulate and control people.
Women and older Americans are more likely to be heavily invested in Bible reading. Though nine out of ten of us own one, the way we read the Bible may be changing, with interest in online formats and Google searches growing.
More than half of us wish we read the Bible more often than we do, says Barna.
Perhaps if we did, we'd find some stories with strong, complex characters that open our eyes -- not only to the world in which they lived, but to our own.
There is Jacob, the ambitious and sometimes unscrupulous younger brother of Esau, who wrestles with a mysterious man at the ford of the Jabbok River in Genesis 32:22-32 and lives to tell the tale. We live in an age of ambition. When is it healthy and when is it harmful?
While men mostly play leading roles in the Bible, the Hebrew Scriptures offer a number of women making decisions that change the course of biblical history, from the prophet/judge Deborah in the four and fifth chapter of Judges, to the Persian queen Esther who plays an important role in saving the Jewish people (her cousin Mordecai helps foil a plot to kill the king in the book of Esther), to Mary the mother of Jesus and the outspoken Samaritan woman getting water from a well in the New Testament. These women are nothing if not smart and resourceful.
There are prophets we come to know in the books named after them, as they beg God to be merciful and hold God's people accountable for their misdeeds. Perhaps we have had someone like a Hosea or a Jeremiah in our own lives -- a person we respected and perhaps feared at the same time.
Then there are characters about whom we know very little, like the thief (the so-called "good thief") who is crucified next to Jesus and recognizes Him, even in these last moments of his own life, as someone holy. Many of us are aware of how very easy it is to go astray, in spite of everything we have been given, and find ourselves in a frightening place -- one in which we may not even recognize ourselves. Who inspires us to change our course in these dark times? Have we known people in whom we recognize a profound goodness, one that attracts us to them?
If you are one of the nine out of ten people who has a Bible lying around, you might want to follow up and take a deeper look at some of the characters mentioned here. There are many, many others. When we are prone to see Scriptures as a set of "do's and don'ts" (and there certainly is moral teaching in it), we may be more prone to avoid getting in too deep. But the moral teaching of the Scriptures makes more sense if you understand the real-life dilemmas of the people who inhabit its pages.
Once they come to life for you, they may take you places you never thought you'd go. The Bible as an adventure story? Nothing in the least bit old-fashioned about that.
Written by Elizabeth Eisenstadt Evans
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
Tuesday, February 18, 2020
Tolerance of a Deeper Sort
As I grew up, I learned that respect comes in different forms. I'm supposed to respect my elders (age has its privileges; we assume the older are also wiser). I'm supposed to respect the American flag (don't let it touch the ground). I'm supposed to respect the wilderness (leave it as if it were untouched).
One of my challenges -- and perhaps not only mine -- is that I have a hard time separating respect from tolerance. In our current age of deep disagreement, we regularly witness some new outrage de jour, some new idea or person whom we're supposed to name, shame, and obliterate when not in line with the cultural orthodoxy.
It seems that more often than not, those who demand we join the militant march for social justice on whatever fashionable issue it is we ought to be angry about and fighting for (e.g., the trending hashtags on Twitter) are the very ones who self-describe as tolerant. Yet in practice, they seem to be the most intolerant, making room only for people who share their exact view.
Yet tolerance has often meant a kind of respect for the views of others. Sometimes it takes the form of "to each his/her own" or "you do you" or "live and let live." But this kind of respect strikes me as only really being possible when we're talking about things that don't matter much. It's not too difficult for me to respect or tolerate others whose views or convictions I don't find all that relevant, interesting, or even offensive. For me, something like veganism isn't really a big deal. If you're like me, perhaps you and I will pat ourselves on the back for being tolerant and respectful of vegans. But for some vegans, it's a put-my-stake-in-the-ground issue. So we might imagine, there are vegans who tolerate and respect, and militant vegans who don't.
Yet, if tolerance and respect are really only the sorts of attitudes we have for things that don't matter much, I'm not sure we're really talking about tolerance or respect at all.
It's with this in mind that I'm deeply appreciative of John Inazu's understanding of tolerance. Inazu is a professor of law at Washington University, and his recent book Confident Pluralism: Surviving and Thriving through Deep Difference is one I highly recommend. He describes tolerance as the ability to live with others whom we might think are reprehensible, whose views are deplorable, and with whom we vehemently disagree.
Tolerance of this sort is only possible because of the shared humanity we have with one another. That is, if you claim the right to hold to certain convictions that you consider sacred and inviolable, then out of respect for the shared humanity of all others, you must allow the same kind of space for someone to utterly hate, despise, and reject the things you believe are most important. To the extent that we do not do this, we dehumanize the other, failing both at respect and tolerance.
As Inazu describes it, tolerance that aims to foster a kind of co-existence among those who are deeply different is only possible on the basis of a certain kind of respect: one which sees humans as being equal in a fundamental way.
Now, this may sound very pie-in-the-sky, like a view through rose-colored glasses, especially in our present age of outrage in which we tend to live in echo chambers that merely serve to support our own personal perspective on things, encouraging us to believe that we are unquestionably right, and that those who disagree with us are just plain wrong (or bad or evil, etc.).
From my angle, there's really only one way that Inazu's account can work: we have to see one another as made in the image of God. Such a perspective demands from us a certain kind of treatment of others-otherwise, to think less of them on the basis of disagreement would amount to offending God Himself.
So I find it very timely that a wise friend recently pointed something out to me: Jesus never let an issue or behavior stand in the way of a relationship. That is, Jesus treated people with dignity even when He disagreed with them. That's respect of the deepest and most genuine sort. Jesus sees people for who they really are. That's risky and vulnerable, to be sure. But it seems to me that in our age of outrage, that's what most of us really want: to be taken seriously, to be heard, and for our views to be considered rather than immediately dismissed. When that happens, we feel validated, humanized -- as if our existence and our thoughts matter. That's respect.
I think Inazu's vision is something our culture desperately needs. I'm taking Jesus as my model in trying to achieve it in my small corner of the world. I invite you to as well.
Written by Chad Lakies
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
One of my challenges -- and perhaps not only mine -- is that I have a hard time separating respect from tolerance. In our current age of deep disagreement, we regularly witness some new outrage de jour, some new idea or person whom we're supposed to name, shame, and obliterate when not in line with the cultural orthodoxy.
It seems that more often than not, those who demand we join the militant march for social justice on whatever fashionable issue it is we ought to be angry about and fighting for (e.g., the trending hashtags on Twitter) are the very ones who self-describe as tolerant. Yet in practice, they seem to be the most intolerant, making room only for people who share their exact view.
Yet tolerance has often meant a kind of respect for the views of others. Sometimes it takes the form of "to each his/her own" or "you do you" or "live and let live." But this kind of respect strikes me as only really being possible when we're talking about things that don't matter much. It's not too difficult for me to respect or tolerate others whose views or convictions I don't find all that relevant, interesting, or even offensive. For me, something like veganism isn't really a big deal. If you're like me, perhaps you and I will pat ourselves on the back for being tolerant and respectful of vegans. But for some vegans, it's a put-my-stake-in-the-ground issue. So we might imagine, there are vegans who tolerate and respect, and militant vegans who don't.
Yet, if tolerance and respect are really only the sorts of attitudes we have for things that don't matter much, I'm not sure we're really talking about tolerance or respect at all.
It's with this in mind that I'm deeply appreciative of John Inazu's understanding of tolerance. Inazu is a professor of law at Washington University, and his recent book Confident Pluralism: Surviving and Thriving through Deep Difference is one I highly recommend. He describes tolerance as the ability to live with others whom we might think are reprehensible, whose views are deplorable, and with whom we vehemently disagree.
Tolerance of this sort is only possible because of the shared humanity we have with one another. That is, if you claim the right to hold to certain convictions that you consider sacred and inviolable, then out of respect for the shared humanity of all others, you must allow the same kind of space for someone to utterly hate, despise, and reject the things you believe are most important. To the extent that we do not do this, we dehumanize the other, failing both at respect and tolerance.
As Inazu describes it, tolerance that aims to foster a kind of co-existence among those who are deeply different is only possible on the basis of a certain kind of respect: one which sees humans as being equal in a fundamental way.
Now, this may sound very pie-in-the-sky, like a view through rose-colored glasses, especially in our present age of outrage in which we tend to live in echo chambers that merely serve to support our own personal perspective on things, encouraging us to believe that we are unquestionably right, and that those who disagree with us are just plain wrong (or bad or evil, etc.).
From my angle, there's really only one way that Inazu's account can work: we have to see one another as made in the image of God. Such a perspective demands from us a certain kind of treatment of others-otherwise, to think less of them on the basis of disagreement would amount to offending God Himself.
So I find it very timely that a wise friend recently pointed something out to me: Jesus never let an issue or behavior stand in the way of a relationship. That is, Jesus treated people with dignity even when He disagreed with them. That's respect of the deepest and most genuine sort. Jesus sees people for who they really are. That's risky and vulnerable, to be sure. But it seems to me that in our age of outrage, that's what most of us really want: to be taken seriously, to be heard, and for our views to be considered rather than immediately dismissed. When that happens, we feel validated, humanized -- as if our existence and our thoughts matter. That's respect.
I think Inazu's vision is something our culture desperately needs. I'm taking Jesus as my model in trying to achieve it in my small corner of the world. I invite you to as well.
Written by Chad Lakies
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
Tuesday, February 4, 2020
Leadership
A lot of what Christianity has to say about leadership can be summed up pretty well in one story about Jesus with His followers: "A dispute also arose among them, as to which of them was to be regarded as the greatest. And He said to them, 'The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the One who serves'" (Luke 22:24-27).
This might not sound as revolutionary as it really is. After all, there are 20 pages of books on Amazon on the topic of "servant leadership." It's become a buzzword in management training.
Real Service?
And yet ... how many cases do you know of leaders who really serve others? I'm not talking about the folks who do photo ops at a soup kitchen, or use a golden shovel to turn the first scoop of earth at a groundbreaking ceremony. Real servant leadership is costly. It means getting involved in the unpleasant side of other people's lives. And really, who wants to do that? It's not like people are exactly panting to pick up other people's trash, or wipe incontinent people's bottoms.
And yet, when leaders actually do serve, amazing things can happen. I remember a small immigrant church that had a real problem with getting people to work together. Everybody was so concerned about his or her own prestige that nobody would lift a finger to do the necessary but lowly tasks that make a community run smoothly. Everyone wanted to be a leader; nobody wanted to be a servant.
Things went on this way until the pastor of the church and another leader got a great idea. Between the two of them, they were the highest-status people in the church, and everyone looked up to them. So the next time there was a Christmas party, and everyone was finishing up eating, they each grabbed a rolling trash can and took it around the tables, picking up people's dirty paper plates and throwing them away. You should have seen the looks on people's faces as their leaders cleared away trash with their own hands.
But that had a great result. In the next few weeks, people began pitching in on all sorts of tasks. Some started cooking and cleaning; some offered rides to other people without cars; some helped direct parking in a cold, muddy field. People stopped worrying about their own status and started caring for others. That's the power of real servant leadership. And it's a tiny example of the sort of leadership Jesus calls all who follow Him to exercise.
But there are other things Christianity has to say to anyone who wants to be a good leader. If a good leader is there to serve, then questions come up that demand answers:
Where exactly am I leading these people to?
Is it a good place?
Is it the place we ought to be going?
How will we know when we get there?
This seems like a pretty obvious set of questions, but you'd be amazed by the number of people who set out to lead without having any clear idea what they're leading people to. I was once part of an inter-ethnic coalition who spent their first year or more arguing about their reason for existing. They all believed the coalition ought to exist, but they all had totally different ideas what it ought to do. And of course, if you don't know what you're supposed to be doing or where you're heading, you're not going to be happy with where you eventually end up.
The biblical leader Moses was a leader who knew exactly where he was going with his people, an entire nation of ex-slaves who had just become free. They needed a new land, a renewed faith, and a new cultural pattern to live by. Though the Israelites drove him crazy on a regular basis, he kept on toward the goal: Canaan, the Promised Land.
Why exactly am I leading, anyway?
Is it because I really care about these people and what we're trying to get done?
Is it an ego trip for me?
Unfortunately, Western cultures in particular give leadership jobs a lot of status—so much so that people who don't know how to lead, and don't particularly want to lead, still try to get into those positions just so they can enjoy the status. But of course that ends in a mess for everybody involved. We need to work on getting the right people into leadership—those who are gifted with wisdom, patience, caring, and a talent for working with people.
David was another biblical leader, a king who spent most of his life at war. He was known for taking care of his soldiers. He saw to it that they had what they needed—food, rest, a place for their families to be safe—and he himself went out with his forces to lead them. They knew they mattered to him. In fact, the one time he didn't go out with his forces, David wound up in a major leadership mess involving adultery, murder, and the betrayal of a fellow soldier. He proved this principle of good leadership both ways—by the times he kept it, and by the one time he spectacularly broke it, and everyone suffered the consequences.
When the people I'm leading drive me crazy, what then?
Do I give it up as a bad job?
Do I see how I might amend the situation and turn it into something good for those involved?
And if so, where am I going to find the wisdom and the strength to make that happen?
Every leader faces moments of resistance from those led—times when the people drive him or her nuts. Moses certainly did. His reaction was not to quit, however. Instead, he did a lot of yelling and metaphorical hair-pulling, and then he went to talk with God about the problem. He found wisdom as he prayed and listened to what God had to say. This gave him the strength to carry on as leader for 40 years, even though the people were making just about every mistake they could think of to make.
What about you, in your leadership? Where do you find strength, wisdom, and the patience to carry on? Could you possibly find it in the same place? Something to consider, maybe.
Written by the THRED Team
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
This might not sound as revolutionary as it really is. After all, there are 20 pages of books on Amazon on the topic of "servant leadership." It's become a buzzword in management training.
Real Service?
And yet ... how many cases do you know of leaders who really serve others? I'm not talking about the folks who do photo ops at a soup kitchen, or use a golden shovel to turn the first scoop of earth at a groundbreaking ceremony. Real servant leadership is costly. It means getting involved in the unpleasant side of other people's lives. And really, who wants to do that? It's not like people are exactly panting to pick up other people's trash, or wipe incontinent people's bottoms.
And yet, when leaders actually do serve, amazing things can happen. I remember a small immigrant church that had a real problem with getting people to work together. Everybody was so concerned about his or her own prestige that nobody would lift a finger to do the necessary but lowly tasks that make a community run smoothly. Everyone wanted to be a leader; nobody wanted to be a servant.
Things went on this way until the pastor of the church and another leader got a great idea. Between the two of them, they were the highest-status people in the church, and everyone looked up to them. So the next time there was a Christmas party, and everyone was finishing up eating, they each grabbed a rolling trash can and took it around the tables, picking up people's dirty paper plates and throwing them away. You should have seen the looks on people's faces as their leaders cleared away trash with their own hands.
But that had a great result. In the next few weeks, people began pitching in on all sorts of tasks. Some started cooking and cleaning; some offered rides to other people without cars; some helped direct parking in a cold, muddy field. People stopped worrying about their own status and started caring for others. That's the power of real servant leadership. And it's a tiny example of the sort of leadership Jesus calls all who follow Him to exercise.
But there are other things Christianity has to say to anyone who wants to be a good leader. If a good leader is there to serve, then questions come up that demand answers:
Where exactly am I leading these people to?
Is it a good place?
Is it the place we ought to be going?
How will we know when we get there?
This seems like a pretty obvious set of questions, but you'd be amazed by the number of people who set out to lead without having any clear idea what they're leading people to. I was once part of an inter-ethnic coalition who spent their first year or more arguing about their reason for existing. They all believed the coalition ought to exist, but they all had totally different ideas what it ought to do. And of course, if you don't know what you're supposed to be doing or where you're heading, you're not going to be happy with where you eventually end up.
The biblical leader Moses was a leader who knew exactly where he was going with his people, an entire nation of ex-slaves who had just become free. They needed a new land, a renewed faith, and a new cultural pattern to live by. Though the Israelites drove him crazy on a regular basis, he kept on toward the goal: Canaan, the Promised Land.
Why exactly am I leading, anyway?
Is it because I really care about these people and what we're trying to get done?
Is it an ego trip for me?
Unfortunately, Western cultures in particular give leadership jobs a lot of status—so much so that people who don't know how to lead, and don't particularly want to lead, still try to get into those positions just so they can enjoy the status. But of course that ends in a mess for everybody involved. We need to work on getting the right people into leadership—those who are gifted with wisdom, patience, caring, and a talent for working with people.
David was another biblical leader, a king who spent most of his life at war. He was known for taking care of his soldiers. He saw to it that they had what they needed—food, rest, a place for their families to be safe—and he himself went out with his forces to lead them. They knew they mattered to him. In fact, the one time he didn't go out with his forces, David wound up in a major leadership mess involving adultery, murder, and the betrayal of a fellow soldier. He proved this principle of good leadership both ways—by the times he kept it, and by the one time he spectacularly broke it, and everyone suffered the consequences.
When the people I'm leading drive me crazy, what then?
Do I give it up as a bad job?
Do I see how I might amend the situation and turn it into something good for those involved?
And if so, where am I going to find the wisdom and the strength to make that happen?
Every leader faces moments of resistance from those led—times when the people drive him or her nuts. Moses certainly did. His reaction was not to quit, however. Instead, he did a lot of yelling and metaphorical hair-pulling, and then he went to talk with God about the problem. He found wisdom as he prayed and listened to what God had to say. This gave him the strength to carry on as leader for 40 years, even though the people were making just about every mistake they could think of to make.
What about you, in your leadership? Where do you find strength, wisdom, and the patience to carry on? Could you possibly find it in the same place? Something to consider, maybe.
Written by the THRED Team
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
Tuesday, January 21, 2020
Talking Bias
Understanding implicit bias can be an extremely difficult task for most people. It requires a degree of self-awareness and a willingness to admit that, sometimes, many of our daily interactions with other people are shaded by prejudice, even when we mean well. Nobody wants to own up to assuming that a person is less intelligent because of their hair color, or that they're less capable because of their age, or that they're more dangerous because of their skin color.
But, the reality is that we all have our own biases that need to be acknowledged, unpacked, and unlearned.
As a young(ish) black male, I've come face-to-face with race-based bias more often than I could even attempt to quantify. It's not uncommon for interactions fueled by biases to result in viral videos and attention-grabbing headlines. It's more common, however, for them to be felt in the tiny, seemingly harmless, micro-aggressions that members of minority groups encounter throughout everyday life.
No person of color is a stranger to moments like having your name intentionally mispronounced because it's slightly less common than "John." (Seriously, if you can pronounce Polish last names where "-dzki" is a common suffix, you can figure out "Jamel" without making a show of it.) Encountering bias is a part of life for many of us, and navigating it eventually becomes second nature.
Sifting my thoughts on this topic caused me to look at my own prejudices. What I found was that, in a strange way, being aware of how much of a role implicit bias and micro-aggressions play in my day-to-day interactions has led to me forming biases of my own as a bit of a defense mechanism.
Simply put, I assign biases to certain groups of people before I even give them a chance to exhibit them. When I see a police officer, I expect them to single me out and treat me unfairly. When I speak to "baby boomers," I expect my life experiences to be minimized and written off as an unmotivated millennial. When I meet a vegan, I expect them to preach on the health benefits of removing delicious fast-food double cheeseburgers from my diet.
So what can we do about it?
While it's probably impossible to rid yourself of all biases, what we can do is limit the amount of control they have over our actions. In order to accomplish this, we must acknowledge our prejudices and then work to make sure our interactions are not governed by them.
As difficult as it may be to admit it, this blog might be about you. Do you show favoritism or prejudice based on snap judgments of people you've just met? Do you harbor damaging opinions about other people based on insufficient data and assumptions you've adopted along the way? I've taken a long look in the mirror and named some of my biases.
Can you name some of yours?
Written by Justin Fantroy
Prejudice is difficult to overcome, especially if we don't see it in ourselves. What are yours?
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
But, the reality is that we all have our own biases that need to be acknowledged, unpacked, and unlearned.
As a young(ish) black male, I've come face-to-face with race-based bias more often than I could even attempt to quantify. It's not uncommon for interactions fueled by biases to result in viral videos and attention-grabbing headlines. It's more common, however, for them to be felt in the tiny, seemingly harmless, micro-aggressions that members of minority groups encounter throughout everyday life.
No person of color is a stranger to moments like having your name intentionally mispronounced because it's slightly less common than "John." (Seriously, if you can pronounce Polish last names where "-dzki" is a common suffix, you can figure out "Jamel" without making a show of it.) Encountering bias is a part of life for many of us, and navigating it eventually becomes second nature.
Sifting my thoughts on this topic caused me to look at my own prejudices. What I found was that, in a strange way, being aware of how much of a role implicit bias and micro-aggressions play in my day-to-day interactions has led to me forming biases of my own as a bit of a defense mechanism.
Simply put, I assign biases to certain groups of people before I even give them a chance to exhibit them. When I see a police officer, I expect them to single me out and treat me unfairly. When I speak to "baby boomers," I expect my life experiences to be minimized and written off as an unmotivated millennial. When I meet a vegan, I expect them to preach on the health benefits of removing delicious fast-food double cheeseburgers from my diet.
So what can we do about it?
While it's probably impossible to rid yourself of all biases, what we can do is limit the amount of control they have over our actions. In order to accomplish this, we must acknowledge our prejudices and then work to make sure our interactions are not governed by them.
As difficult as it may be to admit it, this blog might be about you. Do you show favoritism or prejudice based on snap judgments of people you've just met? Do you harbor damaging opinions about other people based on insufficient data and assumptions you've adopted along the way? I've taken a long look in the mirror and named some of my biases.
Can you name some of yours?
Written by Justin Fantroy
Prejudice is difficult to overcome, especially if we don't see it in ourselves. What are yours?
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
Tuesday, January 7, 2020
Jesus and Battle Scars
Years ago, when I was a young, naïve Christian teenager, I found myself in a lengthy discussion about faith with a non-Christian classmate. This particular classmate, who eventually became a very good friend, asked a lot of challenging questions about God, Jesus, and the Christian faith. By the end of the conversation, I came to the conclusion that he just thought too much to believe in the Christian faith.
Now the adult me asks, "Really? He thought too much?"
When I take an honest look at the Christian faith, the faith into which I was born and the faith into which I am now raising my children, there is an understanding that yes, it is a religious faith that takes a tremendous amount of belief. After all, to be a Christian is to believe that the historical man Jesus, a man revered by individuals from many different religious faiths, was not just a real man who lived and breathed and walked on earth, but God Himself.
For some, just believing that God exists is a stretch, and I get that—I really do. I also get how hard it is to add to that belief by saying that a historical figure is God in human form. After all, can't Christians just be happy believing Jesus was a good, wise man who said good things and taught us how to love each other and live our best possible life?
No.
Because I know a lot of good people.
I know a lot of wise people.
I know a lot of smart people.
And they may be really good people to know and have as friends, but I believe we humans need so much more.
After years of friendships and relationships with people of different faiths, I have matured in my understanding that thinking too much isn't the problem. The problem is in starting with the wrong questions and sometimes in seeking the wrong answers. As a teenager, I didn't know how to answer the questions I was asked because for the first time, I needed to challenge my own beliefs and search for hard answers.
For an individual of any faith, it is a scary odyssey because one never knows where they will end up. As one who loves reading almost anything and who is hungry for knowledge, it is also a daunting task. It is a task that has taken me through the Bible, Christian writers of different denominations, and non-Christian writers who challenge my view of the world, forcing me to question and defend beliefs I have accepted as true for my entire life. And 20 years later I'm back where I started, my feet firmly planted in the Christian faith, but this time with battle scars affirming my belief in Jesus Christ as God.
I know some people look at Christians as a group of gullible simpletons willing to believe in fairy tales, but some of the smartest, most well-read people I know are Christians, and yes, they believe that Jesus is God. Yes, they believe the Bible. And yes, they also believe in science and history.
Many of my fellow Christians don't believe in Jesus' divinity because they are willing to ignore everything else that they know and everything else that they have read. They believe it because to not believe it is to deny the power of God and the importance of God coming down to earth to save a world full of lost people.
Jesus left the glory of heaven to become a man. He experienced the physical, emotional, and mental pains of humanity before He sacrificed Himself on a cross. I can experience the struggles of my own life and look at Jesus and know that He gets it. I don't just have His sympathy; I have His empathy.
Jesus didn't just show us how to live and love, He showed us just how broken we are. He hung out with "sinners" because they were the ones most aware of their brokenness. Unlike the church leaders of the day, they were not looking for a political savior and affirmation that they were doing the right thing; they longed for Someone who would rescue them from themselves. And Jesus understood that brokenness because He also suffered intense emotional and physical pain. He listened to the pain of those around Him, healing the bodies and souls of those who reached out to Him for help.
But all of that is only significant if Jesus is God. All of that only matters if Jesus is something greater than my humanity. And all of that only matters for me—if I believe it.
Written by Sarah Styf
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
Now the adult me asks, "Really? He thought too much?"
When I take an honest look at the Christian faith, the faith into which I was born and the faith into which I am now raising my children, there is an understanding that yes, it is a religious faith that takes a tremendous amount of belief. After all, to be a Christian is to believe that the historical man Jesus, a man revered by individuals from many different religious faiths, was not just a real man who lived and breathed and walked on earth, but God Himself.
For some, just believing that God exists is a stretch, and I get that—I really do. I also get how hard it is to add to that belief by saying that a historical figure is God in human form. After all, can't Christians just be happy believing Jesus was a good, wise man who said good things and taught us how to love each other and live our best possible life?
No.
Because I know a lot of good people.
I know a lot of wise people.
I know a lot of smart people.
And they may be really good people to know and have as friends, but I believe we humans need so much more.
After years of friendships and relationships with people of different faiths, I have matured in my understanding that thinking too much isn't the problem. The problem is in starting with the wrong questions and sometimes in seeking the wrong answers. As a teenager, I didn't know how to answer the questions I was asked because for the first time, I needed to challenge my own beliefs and search for hard answers.
For an individual of any faith, it is a scary odyssey because one never knows where they will end up. As one who loves reading almost anything and who is hungry for knowledge, it is also a daunting task. It is a task that has taken me through the Bible, Christian writers of different denominations, and non-Christian writers who challenge my view of the world, forcing me to question and defend beliefs I have accepted as true for my entire life. And 20 years later I'm back where I started, my feet firmly planted in the Christian faith, but this time with battle scars affirming my belief in Jesus Christ as God.
I know some people look at Christians as a group of gullible simpletons willing to believe in fairy tales, but some of the smartest, most well-read people I know are Christians, and yes, they believe that Jesus is God. Yes, they believe the Bible. And yes, they also believe in science and history.
Many of my fellow Christians don't believe in Jesus' divinity because they are willing to ignore everything else that they know and everything else that they have read. They believe it because to not believe it is to deny the power of God and the importance of God coming down to earth to save a world full of lost people.
Jesus left the glory of heaven to become a man. He experienced the physical, emotional, and mental pains of humanity before He sacrificed Himself on a cross. I can experience the struggles of my own life and look at Jesus and know that He gets it. I don't just have His sympathy; I have His empathy.
Jesus didn't just show us how to live and love, He showed us just how broken we are. He hung out with "sinners" because they were the ones most aware of their brokenness. Unlike the church leaders of the day, they were not looking for a political savior and affirmation that they were doing the right thing; they longed for Someone who would rescue them from themselves. And Jesus understood that brokenness because He also suffered intense emotional and physical pain. He listened to the pain of those around Him, healing the bodies and souls of those who reached out to Him for help.
But all of that is only significant if Jesus is God. All of that only matters if Jesus is something greater than my humanity. And all of that only matters for me—if I believe it.
Written by Sarah Styf
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
Tuesday, December 24, 2019
Purpose
What is the point of all this? Why am I here?
This aspect of our humanity separates us from all other creatures. The answer to this deep, soul-searching quest is personal. No individual's journey is the same when they seek to work through their own reality and circumstances.
The answer, like most things in life, isn't simple or one-dimensional. We will always encounter another layer or level as we answer the complicated question, "Why am I here?"
In attempting to answer that question, Christians believe God holds not only a purpose for individuals, but an overarching purpose for humankind.
Created for Divine Relationship
Human beings have a profound need to be seen. To feel worthy and loved. We crave relationships. God craves relationships, too. Understanding God's eagerness for a relationship with humanity brings peace to a Christian's restless heart.
The first layer in understanding a Christian's view on purpose is knowing the creation story. The first pages of the Bible provide a detailed account of how God designed the earth and everything in it. Within that story, you will find a holy God—who holds all power and knowledge-and desires a relationship with His created people (see Genesis 1:1-2; 1 Samuel 12:22).
Because God wants us here, we can view our existence—all its joy and suffering—through a lens of purpose.
God spoke every created thing, living and nonliving, into existence ... except humans. To create humans, He formed them from the ground. He brought them to life by breathing His own breath into them. He gave them responsibility—a job—to tend the land. God gave humans free will and the freedom to choose a relationship with their Creator (see Genesis 1:26-30).
Without choice, a man-to-God relationship would be based in control, manipulation, mistrust, or fear. God's desire for humans to choose Him indicates He places value on those humans. In other words, He wants them to want Him. He created mankind with a purpose in mind, the highest of which is friendship with Him (see Genesis 2:9; Genesis 3:8).
What is MY purpose?
Why am I here? What should I do with my life?
Those questions can paralyze people. The questions seem so large, so intimidating, they blind us to the simplest, most obvious manifestations of purpose in our lives.
Accepting where you are and what you have is one step toward discovering your purpose. That may sound trivial, but it is revolutionary. Great truth rests in tackling our mundane, daily tasks. It involves accepting the gift of each moment, knowing we might not be given another, and making the most of it.
Humans are not only unique from the rest of creation—they are unique from each other. Each human body contains a distinctive combination of DNA. An individual's genetics, background and experiences blend together, resulting in a set of skills, talents, strengths, weaknesses, and insights that do not match the set of any other individual. And that set is necessary for humankind. If one person doesn't carry out their purpose, their role will go either unfulfilled, or unfulfilled in the unique way they could do it.
How do you find the life purposes that are unique to you? There is no single answer, but God gives us a plethora of clues:
 Roles/Stations: Any role we fill in which we're responsible to someone or for something, and where our role doesn't by its nature require disobeying God, this is a calling from God. It's not about what we're responsible to do for God, but what God is doing through us.
 Gifts/Talents: God gives all of us different gifts—both "spiritual" gifts for building up God's church and kingdom, and "created" gifts for contributing to the temporal world. Our gifts and talents give us a sense of how God wants us to help others.
 God gives us all manner of resources in different proportions—material resources, financial resources, influence, time, knowledge, etc. He wants us to be generous with our resources, whatever form they may take (see 2 Corinthians 9:6-11).
 Passions/Desires: This one is trickier because passions and desires can come from God, or from the evil inside us, or they can come from a combination of sources, making it difficult to determine the good. But it is a misconception that Christians are supposed to let all of their desires die. Desire can be corrupt, but it can also be very good. God is very interested in our desires: "Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart" (Psalm 37:4). He also knows they have tremendous power to motivate us—no doubt he built us with desires so they would do just that.
 Opportunities: We believe God continues to be intimately involved in the details of how every earthly circumstance happens and turns out (see Romans 8:28; Luke 12:6-7). If God gives you an opportunity to do something good, it was on purpose.
 Needs: Compassion is feeling someone else's distress at a gut-level and thereby being compelled to act. The Holy Spirit nurtures compassion inside people of Christian faith. This word describes much of Jesus' action toward us. He gives us compassion, so we respond to needs as well. In a sense, a human need is a call from God.
Cohesive Independence
Talk of individuality raises the matter of independence. As Christians, we are to take care of ourselves and bear individual responsibility for our actions. We are to develop our skills and talents.
However, bloated individuality results in selfishness, the philosophy that "me" comes before "we." Christians believe that if our lives become exclusively about us—my comfort, my longings, my love, my truth—then we have stepped outside of God's original plan. Instead of functioning as one human race, we become isolated and alone. We can also lose our sense of purpose.
In God's plan, the question "What do I want to do with my life?" becomes "How can I use my unique skill and background to help others in this situation?"
Using the human body as an example once again, when one member of the body falls ill, other members produce and deliver white blood cells to bring the body back to wholeness. When one member does not function to benefit the body, the whole body grows weaker.
When we consider that our individual purpose should also edify life and humanity, our trajectory is altered.
How Suffering Can Enhance Purpose
Living with purpose has its challenges. What happens when life doesn't unfold as we anticipate or plan? When tragedy or hurt interrupts progress? When cancer steals dreams? When loved ones die? When an accident takes or dramatically hinders our physical abilities?
Sometimes, it's more acute—such as when others appear to have joy and life, while we dwell in a dark haze of depression or anxiety.
When it comes to suffering, Christians find comfort that Jesus—God—knows our pain and factors it into the bigger picture. We do not view ourselves as alone when we suffer. Our suffering is evidence of why we claim to need a Savior in the first place. It becomes a point of reference rather than a blemish. Because Christians believe God uses our struggles as a training ground to cement our purpose, it helps provide a "why" as we pursue the "how" (see Hebrews 2:9-10; 2:18; 5:8; John 16:33).
All great stories of redemption, reconciliation, or healing include deep scars. Christians do not desire struggle, but our trust in God helps us endure it.
The Big Picture
Viewing life through lenses of love and hope gives Christians a sense of purpose. That purpose is rooted in a relationship with God and built on our inherent value to Him. That awareness sets us free to pursue individuality based on service to others. We live our lives as members of a larger body, seeking to contribute to the greater good, even amid life's struggles.
Written by Team THRED
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
This aspect of our humanity separates us from all other creatures. The answer to this deep, soul-searching quest is personal. No individual's journey is the same when they seek to work through their own reality and circumstances.
The answer, like most things in life, isn't simple or one-dimensional. We will always encounter another layer or level as we answer the complicated question, "Why am I here?"
In attempting to answer that question, Christians believe God holds not only a purpose for individuals, but an overarching purpose for humankind.
Created for Divine Relationship
Human beings have a profound need to be seen. To feel worthy and loved. We crave relationships. God craves relationships, too. Understanding God's eagerness for a relationship with humanity brings peace to a Christian's restless heart.
The first layer in understanding a Christian's view on purpose is knowing the creation story. The first pages of the Bible provide a detailed account of how God designed the earth and everything in it. Within that story, you will find a holy God—who holds all power and knowledge-and desires a relationship with His created people (see Genesis 1:1-2; 1 Samuel 12:22).
Because God wants us here, we can view our existence—all its joy and suffering—through a lens of purpose.
God spoke every created thing, living and nonliving, into existence ... except humans. To create humans, He formed them from the ground. He brought them to life by breathing His own breath into them. He gave them responsibility—a job—to tend the land. God gave humans free will and the freedom to choose a relationship with their Creator (see Genesis 1:26-30).
Without choice, a man-to-God relationship would be based in control, manipulation, mistrust, or fear. God's desire for humans to choose Him indicates He places value on those humans. In other words, He wants them to want Him. He created mankind with a purpose in mind, the highest of which is friendship with Him (see Genesis 2:9; Genesis 3:8).
What is MY purpose?
Why am I here? What should I do with my life?
Those questions can paralyze people. The questions seem so large, so intimidating, they blind us to the simplest, most obvious manifestations of purpose in our lives.
Accepting where you are and what you have is one step toward discovering your purpose. That may sound trivial, but it is revolutionary. Great truth rests in tackling our mundane, daily tasks. It involves accepting the gift of each moment, knowing we might not be given another, and making the most of it.
Humans are not only unique from the rest of creation—they are unique from each other. Each human body contains a distinctive combination of DNA. An individual's genetics, background and experiences blend together, resulting in a set of skills, talents, strengths, weaknesses, and insights that do not match the set of any other individual. And that set is necessary for humankind. If one person doesn't carry out their purpose, their role will go either unfulfilled, or unfulfilled in the unique way they could do it.
How do you find the life purposes that are unique to you? There is no single answer, but God gives us a plethora of clues:
 Roles/Stations: Any role we fill in which we're responsible to someone or for something, and where our role doesn't by its nature require disobeying God, this is a calling from God. It's not about what we're responsible to do for God, but what God is doing through us.
 Gifts/Talents: God gives all of us different gifts—both "spiritual" gifts for building up God's church and kingdom, and "created" gifts for contributing to the temporal world. Our gifts and talents give us a sense of how God wants us to help others.
 God gives us all manner of resources in different proportions—material resources, financial resources, influence, time, knowledge, etc. He wants us to be generous with our resources, whatever form they may take (see 2 Corinthians 9:6-11).
 Passions/Desires: This one is trickier because passions and desires can come from God, or from the evil inside us, or they can come from a combination of sources, making it difficult to determine the good. But it is a misconception that Christians are supposed to let all of their desires die. Desire can be corrupt, but it can also be very good. God is very interested in our desires: "Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart" (Psalm 37:4). He also knows they have tremendous power to motivate us—no doubt he built us with desires so they would do just that.
 Opportunities: We believe God continues to be intimately involved in the details of how every earthly circumstance happens and turns out (see Romans 8:28; Luke 12:6-7). If God gives you an opportunity to do something good, it was on purpose.
 Needs: Compassion is feeling someone else's distress at a gut-level and thereby being compelled to act. The Holy Spirit nurtures compassion inside people of Christian faith. This word describes much of Jesus' action toward us. He gives us compassion, so we respond to needs as well. In a sense, a human need is a call from God.
Cohesive Independence
Talk of individuality raises the matter of independence. As Christians, we are to take care of ourselves and bear individual responsibility for our actions. We are to develop our skills and talents.
However, bloated individuality results in selfishness, the philosophy that "me" comes before "we." Christians believe that if our lives become exclusively about us—my comfort, my longings, my love, my truth—then we have stepped outside of God's original plan. Instead of functioning as one human race, we become isolated and alone. We can also lose our sense of purpose.
In God's plan, the question "What do I want to do with my life?" becomes "How can I use my unique skill and background to help others in this situation?"
Using the human body as an example once again, when one member of the body falls ill, other members produce and deliver white blood cells to bring the body back to wholeness. When one member does not function to benefit the body, the whole body grows weaker.
When we consider that our individual purpose should also edify life and humanity, our trajectory is altered.
How Suffering Can Enhance Purpose
Living with purpose has its challenges. What happens when life doesn't unfold as we anticipate or plan? When tragedy or hurt interrupts progress? When cancer steals dreams? When loved ones die? When an accident takes or dramatically hinders our physical abilities?
Sometimes, it's more acute—such as when others appear to have joy and life, while we dwell in a dark haze of depression or anxiety.
When it comes to suffering, Christians find comfort that Jesus—God—knows our pain and factors it into the bigger picture. We do not view ourselves as alone when we suffer. Our suffering is evidence of why we claim to need a Savior in the first place. It becomes a point of reference rather than a blemish. Because Christians believe God uses our struggles as a training ground to cement our purpose, it helps provide a "why" as we pursue the "how" (see Hebrews 2:9-10; 2:18; 5:8; John 16:33).
All great stories of redemption, reconciliation, or healing include deep scars. Christians do not desire struggle, but our trust in God helps us endure it.
The Big Picture
Viewing life through lenses of love and hope gives Christians a sense of purpose. That purpose is rooted in a relationship with God and built on our inherent value to Him. That awareness sets us free to pursue individuality based on service to others. We live our lives as members of a larger body, seeking to contribute to the greater good, even amid life's struggles.
Written by Team THRED
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
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