But Even If... Some Thoughts in this Moment

On May 25, George Floyd - the man pictured above with the Bible in his hand - was killed by police officer Derek Chauvin after the officer placed his kneed on the neck of Floyd for nearly nine minutes. For the last three minutes, Floyd was motionless. During the nine minutes, Floyd begged for this to stop, stated that everything hurt, stated that he couldn’t breathe, and even asked for his “Mama”, who was deceased.

As most of us have seen the past week or so, the protests, riots, and uproar that have emerged after the killing of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, and Breonna Taylor have reached seismic levels. Hundreds of cities are seeing the Black Lives Matter movement demand change. It has been said this is the biggest civil rights movement moment since the 1960’s.

Almost immediately after the killing of Mr. Floyd, I came across this picture above. Whoever posted it listed all the things George Floyd had been involved in from a ministry perspective. He was called a “person of peace” by a local pastor. He led Bible studies. Served those in need. Carried a presence of the Gospel that influenced others.

But even if…

Those are the words I’ve been thinking about. The words I can’t shake.

Because, I think I’ve seen this picture of Mr. Floyd posted by so many of my white friends demonstrating their outrage over his death because it seems to prove this was a good man. He’s holding the Bible. He’s towering over others, apparently connected and impacting them. And so, we are incensed that this innocent man could be killed.

But even if…

Even if he wasn’t holding a Bible, would we still be outraged?
Even if the Bible was replaced with a gun in his hand, would we still see this as injustice?
Even if George Floyd had committed a crime in those moment before he was pinned to the ground, would we respond the same way?
Even if he was a known criminal, would the knee of Derek Chauvin cutting the life out of George Floyd for nine minutes cause us to care?
Even if we didn’t like the facts that came out, would we still be so disturbed by this moment?

There’s this other picture from this week.

On June 1, one week after George Floyd was killed, President Trump hosted a brief national address in the Rose Garden of the White House, and then proceeded to march to St. John’s Episcopal Church in Washington, DC, where this picture of him holding a Bible was taken. In the process, peaceful protesters at the side were removed by police using smoke canisters. One bishop from the Episcopal diocese in DC said she was “outraged” by the event.

And again, I found myself with those words…

But even if…

Even if President Trump had sincere motives, would this have been the right action?
Even if the moment of national protest could benefit from this photo op, does it model the character of Christ?
Even if he’s been a good leader for our economy, can we justify this action?
Even if he wasn’t prostituting the faith of Jesus-followers for his own political attention, would we be okay with this?

Two pictures. Two moments. Two sentiments. And a world of pain in between them.

For my brothers and sisters of color, I am sorry. I feel helpless this week. I’m sorry I haven’t felt helpless sooner. I have no words. I’m sorry I’ve had so many in the past. I want to advocate, to listen, to pray, and to grieve with you. And at the same time, I know it is impossible for me to feel the depths of what you’ve carried your entire lives.

For my white brothers and sisters, please keep listening. Please keep learning. Please keep asking questions. Please do more than read headlines or ratings-driven snippets. Do more than lean on political rhetoric or cut and paste answers that help alleviate your confusion. Lean into being disturbed. Pursue your own discomfort and let the Spirit of Christ break your heart.

Even if it hurts.

Better Stories :: Brad Wingler S02 Ep02

Better Stories :: Better Stories is Back! S02 Ep1

The Righteous Angry Lady at the Airport

I sat down to tuck myself in to the smallest corner of the terminal waiting area. I was about an hour and a half early for my boarding time on the small plane that would take me back home. Chicago is a big airport, and I was in one of the tiniest pockets of it. But this tiny pocket was already fermenting with anger.

I’m an introvert by nature, and an extreme introvert when I travel. I cocoon myself within headphones, good music, and a comfortable hoodie; and I either nap, catch up on some good shows, or work away uninterrupted. But, in this tiny pocket of the airport I picked up on the anger almost as soon as I sat down.

A few chairs down from me an older lady was ranting. Talking to whomever would listen. Speaking thoughts and four-letter words about why people couldn’t be kind. It took me a few minutes to conceive of the issues at hand. She wasn’t just angry; she was angry at the man sitting across from her. Apparently he had failed - when she left to use the restroom - to guard her stuff and her seat that she wanted to sit in, Her treasured seat had been taken by another lady who knew nothing of what was taking place.

The older lady had lots of words. Lots of four-letter words. All directed at the man across from her, and after several minutes of berating he finally raised his head to exclaim, “Ma’am, it is illegal to leave your bags unattended.” I had never heard that statement uttered outside of a robotic announcement voice, but I believed I’d heard it enough to know it was true. The lady didn’t agree.

In the midst of her four-letter words she began to ask, “What about God’s law? What about the law of kindness?” Followed by more heated words popping out like champagne after the Super Bowl.

To spare the length of the story, the man eventually stood up and left the area, which didn’t diffuse the woman’s anger. At that point she turned her emotion onto the woman who had taken her chair, and then to another woman who was talking about business with that woman. Her anger didn’t end. When someone finally threatened to call security, the righteous angry lady jumped to her feet with an outpouring of new four-letter words and informed the crowd she would be glad to converse with security if someone would just call them.

No one did.
And then it happened.

In the midst of her anger, something else spilled out. Not from her mouth, but from her eyes. Tears. And then a few more words. Words about a brother - her brother - and hospice care. And watching this brother die. And just wanting to go home to West Virginia.

She was wreaking hell. And she was enduring hell. And those two things were deeply tied together.

———

In our church, we have groups who gather regularly to ask each other two questions. “What is God saying?” And, “what are you going to do about it?”

In that moment, I knew the answers to that first question. God was saying, ask her her story. Move closer and ask her if she’d like to talk. Tell her you’d be happy to listen.

The answer to the second question, “What was I going to do about it?” was much harder.

———

I wish I had spoken to that lady. I wish I could tell you I moved closer and spent time listening, caring, and praying for this lady. I wish I could tell you I entered into her pain and absorbed some of what she was facing.

In reality, I didn’t.

I had thoughts of her intimidating presence. I wondered if she would turn anger toward me. I wondered what the people around me would think. And I failed to respond.

And I missed the moment for a better story.

Not a better story of my own, but the better story she needed. She needed kindness in that moment. She needed presence. She needed words that asked her to share her brokenness, not hide it. And I failed. And for the past week and a half I’ve regretted it.

———

Friends, part of the Better Story movement is understanding we are surrounded with opportunities every, single day to be present with the hurting around us. This is why I follow Jesus — he entered the fray. He stepped up to evil, embraced anger, absorbed pain, and paved the way for BETTER to happen in the lives of all those he touched.

So maybe this story today is my penance and confession. Maybe it’s the opportunity to make my failure public for the sake of accountability in the next airport. Maybe it’s just an opportunity to feel better about my guilt.

For whatever it’s worth, I’d like to let that lady know her story matters. And yours does too, whatever hell you’re facing.

Bruce Springsteen and the Old Testament :: The Power of Reminding

I was driving today, listening to Bruce Springsteen share about his own songwriting process. He spoke of his goals in writing and performing, the fact that he never set out in his work to tell people anything. Instead, he claims to have a goal of reminding people. Reminding them of what they know to be true of themselves. Reminding them of what it means to be human.

I spend a good deal of time working with organizations - specifically schools and nonprofits. In that setting, it is common to enter organizations in the midst of their own struggles. I often walk into situations where conflict is happening in real-time. And what I find in those situations is a people struggling to remember. Struggling to remember who they are and why they are there.

Let me give you an example.

One of the first questions I ask of teachers is why they chose to become teachers. What I hear is incredible:

• I wanted to see students lives impacted.

• I wanted to make a difference like my teacher heroes did.

• I wanted to see students rescued and know that adults care.

When I hear these answers, I always joke that I’ve never had a teacher respond to this question by saying, “Well I got into teaching so I could burnout.” Or, “I became a teacher so I could be pissed off at all the bureaucratic nonsense that happens.”

No one ever says that.

And amidst the laughter, I simply say, “I’m here to remind you of who you are.”

We all need reminders. We all need remembrance. Leaders, it is often your job to remind your people of the mission, remind them of your culture, remind them of their identity. It is all too possible to be so future-focused that we forget the power of the past.

And, by the way, we see this in Scripture. The Old Testament alone is full of nearly 200 occurrences where the word “Remember” shows up. We see God remembering His covenant with His people. We see people pleading for God to remember them. And, we frequently see God telling his people to remember a specific day, a specific moment of time where their Deliverer intervened and rescued them. “Don’t forget!” God likes to say.

But it’s fascinating to me not just that the people of God are often called to remember - invited to reminders. It’s fascinating to me how God reminds them. He helps them remember by calling them to build altars. To setup stones in the wilderness so that when they pass those stones, every time they walk through that same wilderness, they will be reminded of the presence of God in the midst of their roaming.

Bruce Springsteen may be onto something. He may be tapping into a divine work of ministry, a powerful work of leadership. That we would learn to remind the people around us and remind ourselves of the truth of who we are, the memory of where we’ve come from, and the potential of our future built from the magic of our past. May we all remember. May we take photos (and actually print them!) of the wilderness where we roam so that we may always remember. Be reminded my friends, that even today you are not forgotten nor should you forget.

Comforted or Comfortable?

“The Gospel is always against our being comfortable, in order to be comforted in our dis-ease. I invite you to think about this terrible distinction between being comfortable and being comforted, between our capacity to cope and our willingness to be held and embraced, to be nursed and cared for and suckled by this God who now speaks and holds us midst our dark night of ache, holding our bodies that tremble with the tears of fatigue and despair.” - Walter Brueggemann

I wonder what I wish for more often, to be comforted or to be comfortable?

Walter Brueggemann’s brilliant and prophetic revelation in the quote above calls out the lack of better stories in our world today. He proclaims the truth the Gospel heralds. God, of course, wants to comfort us. But he refuses to make us comfortable.

Can you imagine what life might look like if we embraced both facets of this concept. One side feels like the plush blanket we grew up clinging to from infancy until mature insecurity. And one side feels like a blade, piercing our souls with the decimating power of truth. But which is soft and which is sharp? That is what we must confront.

I want to say that God comforting me is my longing. I know that’s the right answer. I know that’s the truth Brueggemann proclaims. But if God is to comfort me, I must first be found in dis-ease; and that feels so sharp. And so, like my friends, I often convince myself that to be comfortable is enough. To be comfortable becomes my goal, my pursuit, my wish and even prayer. Just enough to help me exhale. Just enough money. Just enough time. Just enough friends.

The problem is “enough” is elusive.

And as long as we keep chasing enough, keep running down the alleys of our souls looking for comfort, we will never be comforted.

God is BETTER.
I know this. But, like Paul, I get so confused… so forgetful… so… distracted.

May we all be dis-eased into the better story of God’s comfort even as we are found incredibly uncomfortable.

The Colliding Place :: What We Mean by the Kingdom of God

The Kingdom is the colliding place.

It is living and subversive,
humble in its power,
redemptive in its authority,
gracious in pain,
surrendered to persecution.  
Meek and mild
but with the force of a million angels.

The Kingdom is the place where pain and promise collide, the pain of earth in all its evils--
Wars, famine, genocide, hate, all the evils
And the promise of heaven in all its hope--
The promise of healing, grace, mercy, compassion, comfort and hope.

The Kingdom is the colliding place…

Where a man killed on a cross is the Savior healing the world.
The cross is perhaps the best image of this Kingdom…
The beams stretching between the sky and the soil
and then holding arms outstretched for the unity of humanity.
The cross where the death of one was given for the life of all
Where the blood of one cleansed the hearts of all
Where the pain of one promised the healing of all
The colliding place.

The Scandalous Nature of Intimacy :: A Better Story

So apparently, there are a select group of couples who are sleeping together to protect their levels of intimacy. The only hiccup - they’re sleeping together via video chat.

The Atlantic ran a story of a 20-year old girl who used to fall asleep to YouTube videos to help quiet the ringing in her ears at night. After a while, this young woman met (via live chat) one of her favorite YouTubers, and the couple began dating. They continued their dating relationship over a long distance and would often Skype or FaceTime late into the night. One night they found themselves falling asleep as they video chatted. The next morning, when they awoke, the video chat was still going. They had apparently slept together in a bit of a, ahem, non-traditional way.

The article goes on to say:

“They found the experience so comforting that they slept ‘together’ over videochat every night while they were living in two different cities, making them part of a small but ardent group of couples, many in long-distance relationships, who rely on the practice to maintain intimacy while apart. Having a camera running through the night (or even just during a nap) might strike some as invasive, but the people I spoke with said the practice made sense to them: Couples who live in the same place can share a bed, so why shouldn't they be able to do the same, albeit virtually?”

Among the reasons these couples give for this type of sleeping together are protecting faithfulness - if you’re video sleeping with me then you can’t be cheating on me - as well as the comfort that comes from being “with” someone you love.

In Better Stories terms, I think we’re missing the point. The article seems to gloss over the problems here:

Sharing a bed over videochat could scan as a hollow simulation of occupying the same physical space, but despite the hiccups and limitations, the couples I spoke with considered it a way to overcome the challenges of being geographically separated.

I get it. We’re far away from each other so let’s feel closer together. That makes sense. And, I even understand the instinctual thought to protect a relationship’s faithfulness by constant monitoring. But to call this intimacy seems like a stretch.

Perhaps this is symptomatic of a larger “better” story we all need to find… the better story of intimacy.

I’m not only speaking about physical intimacy or our sexuality. I’m actually thinking more broadly about our most vulnerable versions of ourselves. The beauty of Eden in all its Shalom has always been the “naked and unashamed” nature of the Garden. Of course, as kids in Sunday school we giggle at the idea of Adam and Eve frolicking through paradise in their birthday suits, but what if there’s more to this phrasing of naked and unashamed?

Perhaps Eden - prior to the taste of the fruit - was a place of vulnerability, authenticity, and proximity. And perhaps these are the guideposts for the intimacy we need today. Let’s consider each of them.

Vulnerability
Naked and unashamed, if it implies anything, suggests a vulnerability. It isn’t just the nakedness, it is the nakedness with full disclosure and without insecurity that defines unashamed. Our intimacy is rooted, anchored, fortified with a sense of safety. It is the safety that we experience of fully being “us”. To reverse this, after the first bite of that forbidden fruit, Adam and Eve “realize they’re naked.” And their first action? To cover up. To withdraw. To hide. From God, and perhaps even each other. (I’ve often wondered if their strategy for hiding was to hide in the same place, or to each take their own spot, for isn’t it harder to hide with a friend?)

Our versions of intimacy miss this vulnerability today. We are surrounded, perhaps engulfed, in a virtual world of social media feeds that give off the iridescent glow of the best version of ourselves. We filter our lives, take a hundred selfies for the perfect angle and the warmest light, and then propel that image outward for all those we call our people to affirm with their “likes”. This rhythm is what we call our community, and it is anything but vulnerable.

Authenticity
If unashamed paired with nakedness is the realm of vulnerability, then perhaps we could swap our examination of these words to gain insight into authenticity. For, our nakedness is the heart of our authenticity. The great author Brennan Manning calls this our ragamuffin state, the point where our utter hopelessness is brought out into the light… where our wounds meet grace and find themselves laid bare - warts, skin tags, knobby knees and all - and we say to our Savior, “Here I am. It’s the best version of me there is.” And for Manning’s ragamuffins, it is in the face of that moment where divine love (the only true version of love unfiltered there is) receives and embraces, in fact invites us to dance with a perfect Savior who says, “I’ve seen you all along. And I love it all.”

This is the foundation for intimacy. It is not, and never has been, what we can offer to each other as humans. What a joke that our knobby knees bumping up against each other might heal our inauthenticity. No, it is the perfectly divine receiving our beautiful brokenness, receiving and loving, and spinning us around to love those around us with our fullest selves. We cannot love if we have not been loved. We can only love to the extent we have been loved. Psychologists tell us this; they just don’t realize they are making theological claims.

Proximity
Finally, our proximity defines our intimacy. I have video chatted with my wife at night while I’m on a trip. We’ve talked. We’ve laughed. We’ve argued. We’ve felt closer. But these are not the true experiences of proximity. After our fights I cannot feel her touch my hand to let me know things are okay. After our jokes I cannot brush her hair asking for more intimacy to follow. Proximity is the space of intimacy. Adam and Eve are together in the Garden. They are naked and unashamed together. They eat the fruit together. They hide from God together. They try to cover themselves together. They are sent away from the Garden together. It is proximity that postures us for intimacy.

I feel proximity slipping from us in our intimacy today. Our pace of life pulls us apart. Our constant distractions pull us apart. Our emotional coping and self-medicating pull us apart. Perhaps the better story of intimacy comes, at least partially, in eliminating the space between us. Putting phones away. Shutting televisions off. Sitting too close to each other on our long couches. Buying queen-size beds when we can afford the king-size.

My friends, we work for our intimacy. We receive grace from a loving God that invites us to intimacy - intimacy with Himself and intimacy with the good, good world - the world of Shalom - that He created and designed for us to frolic in. Of course, keep your clothes on these days (things might get a bit awkward if you don’t), but keep playing and keep pressing for the truest intimacy we can find.

If Everything is Important, then Nothing Is...

It’s the New Year.
It’s the time of resolutions.
The time for goal-setting.

It’s also the time when failure slaps us around like the bully on the playground.

We set goals, plan to make changes, strategize the best year ever, and get about two weeks in to our new diet or fitness plan and fall off the wagon. And failure rears that ugly head.

So my resolution this year… more writing.
Whether it’s here on a blog, crafting songs, working on a (*gulp*) book… just MORE writing.

In that attempt, here’s day 1 (on day 2) of the New Year.

And I want to offer - humbly - a principle I teach in leadership. Common sense? Yes. Really difficult to implement? Absolutely. So here it is:

If everything is important, then nothing is.

Seriously. If you make everything important all at once, then it becomes really difficult to differentiate priorities, focus, and clear vision. So let’s apply this to the New Year situation, to goals and resolutions, and maybe you can make the jump to your own leadership as well. A few overflow tips from this:

• Zero in on fewer changes, goals, resolutions, etc. and work at them over a longer span of time.
  In all seriousness, one of my goals this year is write MORE. That’s a terrible goal if you’re wired for the S-M-A-R-T goal world (Specific, Measurable, Attainable, I forget the “R”, and Timely). Terrible. But it’s my goal. And it’s a bit more life-giving than fleshing out something that says I’ll write two books, three blog posts a day, etc. Of course, writing for me isn’t performance or vocationally-based. It is life-giving, so I’m trying to keep it that way.

  In that regard, then, narrow your goals down to 3-7 major items. And let them be broadened. We live in a culture of performancism (see David Zahl’s great book for more on this). Drop your performance and just work at getting better at a few things.

• Set goals that bring life.
  Last year, my family and I made a plan to be more creative. We simply wanted to spend less time vegging out and more time flourishing. And you know what? This was the most life-giving resolution we lived into. It was fun. My wife learned some fancy writing. One daughter learned a sewing machine. I built a fireplace. Goals don’t always have to suck our energy, they can actually bring energy to us.

• Take time to determine what really matters.
  Get away for a bit. Start with a clean piece of paper. Pretend you’re facing down December 31 of 2020 and ask what matters most on that day, not what matters most on January 2nd. Because taking the long-view will help you prioritize what matters most. Once you zero in on those things, go as hard as you can after them.

There. One resolution solved. I wrote MORE. Now, on to the other 35 resolutions I made. :-)

My Year of Books

So my family has this tradition. Every New Year’s we sit down and do two things. First, we list our high’s and low’s for the previous year. Then, we make a list of hopes for the new year. Not resolutions, but hopes. It’s not really goal-setting (well, maybe a little), but more things we’re intentionally pursuing that we want to celebrate with each other when we accomplish.

At the beginning of 2019, I officially finished my doctoral program and found myself with time to read the things I wanted. So I set a goal of finishing 25 books - a little more than 2 per month - and believe it or not I actually followed through. So, just for fun I thought I’d get back to some blogging (or at least one post) and highlight the books by title and a brief synopsis. I always appreciate these lists I find online for recommendations, so take it for what it’s worth. (Disclaimer: I have not authority as a book reviewer other than I’m a proud Enneagram 5 and a voracious consumer of words.)

Here’s the list, in order of when I read them:

Culture Care - Makoto Fujimura’s incredible work calling on the people of God to do the work of creativity with intentionality. Best quote: “Our failure is not that we chose earth over heaven: it is that we fail to see the divine in the earth, already active and working, pouring forth grace and spilling glory into our lives.”

Underground Church - Brian Sanders paints a portrait of the Underground Church in Tampa and offers some questions for the church to consider today.

Leading with a Limp - Written by Dan Allender, this is one of my favorite books on leadership for those in ministry. A truly counter-narrative to the common ideas of leadership.

The Medici Effect - Frans Johannson writes a fascinating book about the power of intersectional ideas in innovation.

Moonglow - Years ago, I read Michael Chabon’s Pulitzer prize-winning The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, and it has remained one of my favorite novels of all-time. Chabon continues that power here in Moonglow, a mix of memoir and legends, and a poignant reflection on a grandfather facing the end of life.

Trouble I’ve Seen: Changing the Way the Church Sees Racism - Drew G.I. Hart’s work explores the imperative for our churches today to do the hard work of racial reconciliation. This is a powerful and necessary work with a prophetic voice.

Under the Dome - Stephen King. Yep, guilty pleasure. And way better than the show.

Working the Angles - Eugene Peterson has been a mentor for my life in ministry for a long-time. Re-reading this reflection on the call to pastoral ministry was timely and encouraging.

Sabbath as Resistance - Another counter-narrative to the current ideas of rest and Sabbath, Walter Brueggemann’s book is a call to the true nature of Sabbath.

Unclean - Richard Beck writes a theological and sociological piece exploring the nature of disgust, uncleanness, and redemption.

Washington Black - Esi Edugyan is a new voice in my life. Washington Black is one of the best novels I’ve read in a long-time.

Finn - The first novel I discovered in a small, independent bookstore in South Carolina, Jon Clinch’s expansion of the Huck Finn story is dark and haunting, and full of compassion for the brokenness of family.

Adopted - It’s difficult to express the power of this book in my life this year. Kelley Nikondeha’s theological exploration of the Biblical nature of adoption came at a pivotal time for me as our family engaged an adoption process of our own.

Swamplandia - Karen Russell’s setting is the Florida swamplands, and her characters are full of wonder, danger, and perseverance.

Underground Railroad - The second novel found in South Carolina, Colson Whitehead’s fictional exploration of the liberation train is amazing. Read it, soon.

Where the Crawdads Sing - Delia Owens novel jumps across decades and weaves a powerful story of love and vengeance.

Gay Girl, Good God - Jackie Hill Perry. A powerful story of redemption.

The Storm-Tossed Family - Russell Moore. An important work examining the Gospel and its relationship to families.

Is Mormonism Christian? - Ernest Dean and Jacob Gurley. A helpful primer for apologetics and those engaged in the exploration of Mormonism and its comparison to Christianity.

Educated - It’s tough for me to name a “favorite” book of the year, but Tara Westover’s memoir of growing up in a fanatical family has to be close to the top of the list. I couldn’t put it down.

The Celtic Way of Evangelism - George G. Hunter III. Someone gave me this book years ago. I picked it up this year and carried it with me on a trip to Ireland. I fell in love with the story of St. Patrick and the implications of how his evangelism might impact our churches today.

Ordinary Grace - William Kent Krueger. Krueger was another voice new to me this year. And, his is a voice that provided the best novel I read all year. Amazing story.

Goldfinch - Donna Tartt. Followed the hype… haven’t seen the movie… not my favorite.

A Million Little Ways - A quick and easy read, Emily P. Freeman’s reflections on God’s work through our own imaginations.

The Furious Longing of God - Brennan Manning, along with Eugene Peterson, is a spiritual giant in my life. Somehow, I had missed this book. Finding it was a gift I needed as the year wound down.

Innovation on Tap - Eric B. Schultz imagines a barroom full of famous entrepreneurs, and he tells each of their stories with reflections on innovation and entrepreneurial vision along the way.

This Tender Land - William Kent Krueger returns as I end the year. Much like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, this story of brothers Albert and Odie stands as another great read to end the year.

End of Year Awards:

Best Book: Educated, Tara Westover.
Best Novel: Ordinary Grace, William Kent Krueger
Best Theology/Inspirational: The Furious Longing of God, Brennan Manning or Adopted, Kelly Nikondeha.
Least Favorite Book: The Goldfinch, Donna Tartt