My Education Does Not Make Me Prideful

Given the subjects and people I write about, I’m used to people disagreeing with me. I’m not afraid to stand up for what I believe is right and while naming names.  I’m used to getting angry tweets and avoiding comment sections like my life depended on it. And let’s face it: no one is perfect, including myself. I’m not without error, and none of my opinions are flawless. A rule of mine is that I don’t dish out anything that I’m not willing to take, so I understand that when I critique others, I open myself up to the same.

But there’s one aggravating and flat out disrespectful thing that people do when they disagree with me that I want to discuss. People tend to trash my education and the effort I put into earning it when explaining why they think I’m wrong. Let me give you an example:

Me: [Says some opinion about LGBT issues, Bible translation, or some cultural Christian issue.]

Them: Well, I prayed about it and this is what God told ME! [heavy incorrect usage of biblical often follows, which I talk more about here.]

Me: Well, I understand that. I’m know how you feel, but that’s not really what the text is saying. There’s a lot more to the situation that you’re missing.

Them: I don’t need fancy book learning to know what the Bible says! And as a matter of fact, I have read! I read Joyce Meyer, TD Jakes, John Piper, Tony Evans, Tim Keller, my pastor’s blog, and my favorite gospel artist sang about it, so I can have an opinion!

Me: Of course you can have an opinion. But reading people who tend to agree with you without reading any one else isn’t the same as research.

Them: So you think you’re better than me because you have your degrees? I have the Holy Ghost!

Me: I never said that I was…I… [facepalm]

And that’s not including the situations when people really try it, saying some of the most hurtful and disrespectful things. Stuff that truly makes you wonder, “Would you say that if I was in front of you?” At least a few times a month I have to suppress the urge to lose all the sense that I have and revert back to some unsavory roots. Because when I see folks who I KNOW are strong with their fingers and weak with everything else, I have to fight the urge to call them out.

I usually look like a jerk in these situations. It’s hard to not look like a snob when you have to detail your list of academic achievements, especially when someone else brings it up first. And while I’m not immune from pride, it sucks that defending my hard-earned education is viewed as me being a know-it-all who thinks he’s better than everyone.

This wasn’t always the case. I used to shy away from being proud about my theological education. That was until my Greek professor pulled me aside and taught me an important lesson. He told me that while I’m a person of faith, being theologically trained is also a profession. “Don’t debate people who aren’t your professional peers,” he said. “People don’t debate doctors, or mechanics, lawyers, or surgeons. They earned their stripes just like you;re earning yours. Offer your opinion, be graceful in disagreement, but never debate with someone who doesn’t have similar credentials.”

I haven’t always taken his advice. There are times when I’m not graceful in disagreement. I often use humor to diffuse the emotional blows that come from dealing with people who haven’t decided if your particular brand of humanity is worth compassion or concern. I admit that it isn’t always pretty, but it helps me not to curse people out or cry everyday. There are times when I debate people who don’t have theological training, if for no other reason than to put different ideas on display. Whatever the case, this stern talking to by my professor caused me to understand that I was being shaped into a professional, and that I should demand to be respected as such. I’m skilled in my craft, and have the authority to make decisions and present ideas as a result.

But as a minister and a scholar, I have to interact with scores of folks who aren’t into the books in the same way. I try to share what I know on social media to enhance awareness and sharing different understandings. But that sometimes runs into a brick wall. They’ve held certain beliefs for years, so they often think that their personal faith journey is the comparable to the academic discipline of studying the Christian faith.

It’s not. Not by a long shot.

This is the monster that takes your salvation when you enter seminary…or so I’m told

And this isn’t to say that someone’s faith is only worth something if they have degrees to back it up. I’m a big advocate for an informed faith, but there are plenty of bankrupt, immoral, and corrupt ideas that circulate in and through universities everywhere. A personal connection with the divine is priceless, and there is no book, credential, or degree that can be conferred to make that can make up for it. I know plenty of people who don’t have seminary education that think about Christianity in ways that are healthier than many of the people I went to school with. Book knowledge doesn’t automatically equal right thinking or right religious practice.

Still, there is something to be said about spending intense, dedicated time to study something. My faith and practice is rooted in knowledge of history and context, something I take seriously since I am responsible for leading other people. I was taught to never pull anything out of thin air, but to tend to ideas that preceded me so that other ideas can grow from my work. And since seminary is a spin on the Latin word for seed bed, the growing and tending aspect makes sense. I’m not pulling stuff out of the air; I’m firmed rooted in the history of the faith. And those roots are a result of my education.

I’ve been studying Christianity on an academic level since I was twenty years old. I’m a few weeks shy of thirty-two. I have a minor in religion from Rutgers University, a Master of Divinity from Howard University, a Master of Theological Study from Wesley Theological Seminary, and I’m working on a PhD from Howard studying communication issues in Christian culture. None of them were given to me. They were earned.

I’ve been trained on how to preach, how to read and analyze texts, and how to think through complicated social/political/critical theological issues by a group of successful, qualified, and even world-renowned scholars. These folks have taught me how to read Greek, how to read, write, and search for information. They’ve written books and shaped the way that even some of your favorite preachers think and approach what they do concerning the Bible and race, feminism/womanism, ethics, and other issues that pertain to faith and life. None of these folks are slack, and they didn’t allow me to be slack either. In most instances, I’ve earned As in their classes. To insult my training isn’t just a smack in my face, but it’s a suggestion that the people who trained and supported me are also not up to par. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

And even with that extensive list that I just laid out, it’s fine to disagree with me. My voice is valuable, but it is but a drop in a huge sea of opinion. I don’t argue or preach or post for likes to be a fave on the gram. I do this work because I want to demonstrate a healthy, holistic faith. I want people to agree with me because I made a persuasive argument which causes a change of heart. Just like a doctor, if you don’t like my view, feel free to get a second opinion. There are people with my level of education and more who think differently than I do. But to clown my education and call me prideful, especially when I didn’t bring it up, is in a word…whack. And it’s hypocritical to disparage my education while expecting me to respect your tarry service, because my vocational route is just as much God’s call as your three-day fast might be.

You may disagree with me, but it’s not because I’m sloppy. It’s not because I went to bad schools. It’s not because seminary learning jacked me up. And it’s definitely not that I don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s that we genuinely, deeply disagree. And that’s fine. But what I don’t and never will have time for is my experience, effort, time, and the commitments of my mentors to my formation to be disrespected. Because if we’re measuring faithfulness by the amount of Bible study hours logged, then there’s a special seat in heaven for me and it’s probably much nicer than yours. But suggesting that my studies make me a better Christian is prideful, just like suggesting that someone is a lesser Christian because of their lack of education is rude, disrespectful, classist, and unfair. If the only thing you have to say is that my education has led me astray, then you don’t have an argument. It’s okay to say, “we disagree” and move on.

Deep faith doesn’t negate scholarship. If done correctly, theological education humbles you and often deepens your faith. You realize what you don’t know, and the limits to what you can ever figure out. But just as book knowledge can puff someone’s head up, so can the subjective ideas and wisps in the breeze that people often confuse for their own spiritual superiority. Humility is a lesson that all of us — scholar and layperson alike—are well served to revisit often. There is no action or effort that can make someone closer to God. Whatever we know, whether it be from books or revelation, is the result of grace…

…so that no person should boast.

Almost, But Not Quite: Thoughts On E. Dewey Smith’s Comments About Homosexuality

E. Dewey Smith, pastor of House of Hope in Atlanta, GA, has made waves over his comments concerning the treatment of gay people in churches. You can watch the video below.

This isn’t the first time that Smith has stepped into the stormy waters of sexuality in the Black church. He’s also made comments earlier in the summer, where he voiced his beliefs concerning marriage and admonished preachers for their hypocrisy concerning other issues.  Last year, Smith retweeted openly gay Bishop Yvette Flunder, which raised eyebrows for many onlookers. Given the time span over which these events have taken place, it is safe to assume that Smith’s thoughts have been developing on this matter.

Smith should be commended for initiating this conversation in spaces where it normally does not take place. He also should be praised for wrestling with these issues in places that are historically antagonistic toward LGBT people. The discussion of full inclusion in Black Christian denominations often takes place in seminaries, divinity schools, and other liberal religious arenas. The people who need to hear the conversation most are usually not in attendance.  Many Black Christians, gay or otherwise, are unaware that more progressive lines of thinking even exist. His comments pose a risk to his career and network that should not be ignored. Much of LGBT oppression in Black churches is upheld by an Old Boys’ Network, where people who are too divergent in their theology are shut out of lucrative ministry opportunities. Smith broke away from that mindset.

However, there is a rush to appoint Smith as a full-fledged ally to the LGBT cause. This is where caution needs to be exercised. He has yet to say that being gay or otherwise queer in not a sin. Smith does not say that being LGBT is a gift from God, or that it is blessing, or that people in the community are living out who God created them to be. What he does is highlight the hypocrisy of how gay people are treated based on how much the church body at large consumes from them. If anything, Smith is saying that being gay is no worse than any other sin, so it is wrong to treat gay people worse than everyone else. The unfortunately reality is that even a statement such as this is groundbreaking in many Black churches, but they do not signal a desire for full inclusion. Smith’s comments fall in line with many mainline denominations and churches: acknowledging the sacredness of all humanity but labeling homosexuality a sin.

There may be more that Smith has to say about inclusion that he has not yet said publicly. That is to be expected with a topic like this. It takes time and energy to unravel old thoughts and theology. Change does not happen overnight. He may arrive at a place in his journey where he is openly affirming. But his comments up to the present do not present an affirming message. Smith has not arrived there yet. Public support of marriage equality, which is now the law of the land, does not automatically make one affirming. What about ordaining gay clergy? What about the full access of areas of leadership for LGBT people? Would he marry a same-sex couple? These ideas could be coming down the pike, but until they come from his mouth, optimism should be tempered with caution.

There is something to be said for Smith’s words giving people hope in those spaces. We can never know how many people were touched, ministered to, and inspired to carry on. It is highly probable that one less suicide note was written and one fewer parent threw their child out of the house as a result of his comments. Smith’s words are likely the first time someone has ever heard anything approaching an affirming message from a Black preacher. That positive impact should not be diminished, but it does not need to be in order to acknowledge the areas where Smith’s comments still fall short. He is on a journey. He has gone further than many preachers in his position would dare. He has yet to fully affirm LGBT people. It is best to acknowledge the flowers that have bloomed along the way instead of forcing fruit to bear before its time.

NOTE: E. Dewey Smith has clarified his statements. He does not consider himself an ally and still considers same-sex marriage and homosexuality sin. Read his and his church’s words here.

Yes, It’s Been Changed: A Very Quick Primer on How We Get Our Bibles

So, this picture has been making the rounds on the interwebs.

Erica Campbell of Mary Mary even shared it to her Facebook page, where the post received over 70,000 comments.

It is true? Have verses been taken out of the Bible?

The short answer is yes.

But before you start pleading the blood and rebuking the devil, let’s have a brief conversation about where Bibles come from, kind of like the birds and the bees of biblical literature.

Before we start, just let me say that this is a very, VERY bare bones introduction to this topic. I’ve intentionally pared it down so it won’t be overwhelming. I’ll leave additional resources at the end for you to do more reading.

Bibles are translated from pieces of ancient manuscripts that are found from archeological digs or even by accident. In particular, there’s been many collected editions of the New Testament found all over. Editors compile what they can from the pieces of these manuscripts—which are often incomplete—and translate the Bibles that we read today. Nothing that these experts work on is an original document.

Did you hear that?

Repeat: WE HAVE NO ORIGINALS. Everything we have, even the oldest, “best” copies are just that: copies.

Some of these collections are older than others. The older something is, the closer its content is to whatever the original writer put in the document. But older still isn’t the same an original. So even in good (and good means older) copies, there is still stuff that is added, removed, and otherwise edited.

WAIT, ARE YOU SAYING THAT PEOPLE ADDED THINGS TO SCRIPTURE?

Yes, but again, don’t get bent out of shape. Remember, people wrote everything by hand in ancient times. There was no copy machine so writers had to write every single document by hand.

Every.

Single.

One.

So imagine the number of typos, misspellings, and other errors that crept in when these documents were put to paper? We can’t even spell #pedalstool correctly. The majority of these additions are errors on the part of the copier.

Could you imagine having to translate words from something that looks like this?

There are some places in scripture where extra information is added to clarify topics for the readers. The Gospels are a good example of this. Luke’s readers weren’t well versed in Jewish ideas, some things need to be fleshed out to make sense. Also, each gospel was written to address specific issues. That’s why Jesus visits the temple three times in John but once in the other accounts, and why numerous other accounts are similar in the gospel but have different implications.

There’s also the issue of use getting better at translating these ancient languages. Remember, the original language of the Old Testament is Hebrew (with a splash of Aramaic), and the New Testament was written entirely in Koine Greek. It’s not a one-to-one ration when it comes to translating. So, we have to make the best guess they can. Any translator that is actually good at their job will tell that you that once you translate something, you’ve already interpreted it. Which means you’ve already changed the meaning somehow.

There are other places where a chunk of scripture is the direct result of a community adding commentary that reflects the beliefs of that community. For example, Mark 16. This popular chapter actually ends at verse 8, which means the rest of the text is a much later addition.

An example that is closer to home is 1 John 5:7. Grab your grandmother’s King James Bible and you see that it reads “ For there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost: and these three are one.” Check recent versions and you won’t find it. The verse didn’t appear in any manuscript until the 1500s. More than likely, that verse is a line from a hymn that reflected the theology of the time, but is a far cry from what the community of 1 John would believe. So, they took it out.

Here’s the part that’s missed by most folks. If you have a bible with study notes, you’ll see that the translator has already told you what scriptures are in doubt. Some even have them in brackets. People tend to not read these notes. Also, companies that publish Bibles leave these debatable verses in because people are familiar with them, and they want copies to sell. Money impacts theological choices and stances more than we talk about…and that needs a blog post all to itself.

So, to recap: Yes verses have been taken out and added into the Bible. Way more than you’ve realized.

What is Forgiveness Part 1: The Basics

“God forgave us of our sins, so we need to forgive each other, so that God will forgive us.”

Many people have heard that line before. However, it often isn’t that simple, is it?

This post is the first of several, where will share what I’ve learned about forgiveness. While I’m not sure that forgiveness is a skill that you master, I do think that possessing a solid understanding of what forgiveness is—and isn’t—will help us when we are encountered with the arduous task of dealing with a wrong committed against us.

First, some ground rules. I’ll mention some scripture in these posts, because the Bible is foundational for a lot of my readers. However, I’m not wedded to the Bible or having to check off every orthodox belief about forgiveness. I do believe that forgiveness is healthy. But forgiveness can never be forced by fear. That’s coercion.

From hurtforhopewellness.com

What exactly is forgiveness? My definition is this: to release someone from the penalty of a debt or grievance. Let’s use money as an example. Say someone owes you $100. They haven’t paid it in a while, and you’ve been waiting patiently. You’re furious with them. After a long while, you decide to let it go. You don’t ask for the money back anymore, and you don’t pursue any action that would lead to their harm for not paying the money. You drop the requirement for the money to be returned.

That is what I’ve come to view forgiveness as. I know that I have truly forgiven when I reach the point where I don’t look for some sort of recompense for what was done to me. I’m not expecting the person to change. I’m not looking for ways to make the person pay for what they’ve done. My expectation for some sort of recompense is gone.

This example also demonstrates some important things that are often missed when discussing forgiveness. Forgiveness does not pretend that no wrong was committed. Looking back to the example, notice how there was no pretending that the person didn’t owe the money. There was no magic spell that rewrote history and made the issue disappear. Early in my life, I was exposed to this sort of forgiveness, which is really a forgery. All that did was cause me to push the pain that I’ve experienced down, and never heal in my own way and time. I’ve learned that forgiveness is grounded in reality. The person in the example still owed the money, just like the person or people that hurt you actually did something to hurt you. Acknowledging that is a vital part in forgiving.

Also, notice how there is no mention of reconciliation. This may be hard for some to accept, but forgiveness and reconciliation are not the same thing.The loaner of the money never, ever has to loan money to the person again. They don’t even have to be friends. Forgiveness is, quite simply, dropping the requirement of payment. That’s it. Forgiveness does not require a restoration of the relationship that existed prior to the wrong being committed. Often, people in church and elsewhere lump forgiveness and reconciliation together. You have to “hurry up and forgive” so thing can go on as usual.

Forgiveness is not ignoring the fact that you are in pain and/or not acknowledging that someone in your community harmed you. 

So moving forward, here are some other thoughts about forgiveness:

• Forgiveness, trust, and reconciliation are all separate things. Don’t lump them together.
• Forgiveness is far more about you and your peace than the offending party.
• Forgiveness is a process. It takes time; you don’t have to rush it.
• Forgiveness can be a part of justice, but not necessarily.
• God does not hate you, even if you can’t forgive someone right away.

We’ll get into more depth with later posts. Do you have any questions or thoughts about forgiveness? Talk in the comments…

Nice Nasty: A Look At TD Jakes Remarks About Marriage Equality

With the Supreme Court’s landmark decision in favor of marriage equality last week, it was expected that clergy across the country would begin to express their opinions.

Bishop TD Jakes, pastor of The Potter’s House in Dallas, Texas, offered remarks about marriage equality and a Christian response here:

Bishop Jakes’ remarks may seem like a respectful way to address the issue, but they aren’t. There’s a pervasive idea that speaking about issues calmly with respectful language somehow sanctifies the troubling rhetoric that is being delivered. As a friend put it, there’s a heavy element of “nice nasty” that’s present in Jakes’ remarks.

Jakes starts by telling his congregation that Christians shouldn’t “lose their minds” in regards to the Supreme Court ruling. To paraphrase his words, the Church shouldn’t be concerned when “the world” does what it tends to do. He notes that the Justices were dealing with the rights that are given by the Constitution. He goes on to mention that the Justices weren’t debating Romans 1 and First Corinthians when deciding this ruling. This is a hint into where Jakes will ultimately end up. The New Testament books of Romans and 1 Corinthians contain lynchpin scriptures for people who are opposed to same-sex relations. Certain words and phrases function as dog whistles in church contexts, sending a rallying call around certain ideas that are understood but not spelled out directly. Mentioning Romans and First Corinthians as he did is a coded way of pointing the parishioner toward an understanding of same-sex sexual activity as sin. Jakes has stated previously that he thinks scripture “condemns” sex between people of the same-sex in an interview with Oprah in 2012, but it wouldn’t have been smart to be direct in a broadcast that was aired to millions. The COGIC backlash involving Andrew Caldwell is instructive in this case.

Bishop Jakes upholds the idea that the traditional way of reading the text will automatically lead to his particular understanding. This is not true, as many faithful people who read the text come up with different ideas about every subject the Bible presents. In a seminary class I once took, a classmate said, “I take the Bible literally, and the Bible literally does not condemn gay people. They aren’t speaking about what we are discussing today.” There’s a multitude of ways to view scripture. Those diverse interpretations are a major part of why we have so many denominations today.

From Charismanews.com

Jakes also makes the assumption that things would be better if people became “real Christians.” For Jakes, it appears that a true Christian is someone who shares their faith. If more Christians evangelized, and not segregate themselves from people who aren’t like-minded, Christianity would spread. The statistics available concerning Christian perception in this country would suggest otherwise (Read this Barna Group report here). People know what the Christian message is, and they perceive it to be one of hate and intolerance. They hear and understand, they just don’t want what’s being offered.

Lastly, Jakes makes a comment about the Bible toward the end that may well be the most concerning portion of the remarks. He says, “But I must warn you, God does not judge you by the Constitution. He judges you by the Word of God. So while the Supreme Court is looking at the Constitution, you better search the Scripture.” He continued to say, “This blessed old book is still good, it’s still right anyhow.”

This remark is a veiled threat. Given the context of the sermon, people who don’t agree or live by Jakes’ biblical understanding of sexuality are in danger of being judged by God. To suggest that judgement is the appropriate response to Jakes’s perspective of sexuality—a perspective that is highly debatable at best—is cruel, regardless of how well-meaning it sounds. Scripturally, Jesus does discuss the threat of judgment, but it is frequently to those who abuse children or people he loves (Matthew 18:1-6), hypocrites (Mark 7: 1-13), and people who ignore the most vulnerable in society (Matthew 25:31-46). Saying “God said it” doesn’t absolve anyone from the responsibility of the stances they take. God isn’t making the declaration; you are. Damnation and hell are some of the most violently used concepts in Christian thought, and they are often used by people in power to threaten others toward their point of view. Rarely is biblical wrath directed at the modern day equivalents of the ones who receive the threats in scripture. This needs to change.

Jakes relies on the idea of the church being separate from the world to justify placing LGBT people and their issues on the back-burner. It’s not something to “lose his mind” about, which is a nice-nasty way of saying that LGBT issues aren’t worth Christian effort to fight for. This is where he, and many others, make a critical error. Separating the church from the world will not remove LGBT people from the church house. We are everywhere, including in the pews of his church when he was giving this message. We are ministers, deacons, trustees, and ushers. We participate in the life of the church in such an ingrained way, that our removal would be immediately noticed. There are affirming churches and clergy who praised God when the Supreme Court made marriage equality the law of the land. Are they not Christian? There is no clean place to cut down the middle. A break away from the LGBT community wouldn’t sanctify the church, it would splinter the church into even more pieces than it is right now.

Bishop Jakes does what many do, function under a cloak of civility to push anti-LGBT message. He’s savvy enough not to use buzzwords that will not attract the same level of scrutiny and critique that others do when they engage in anti-LGBT speech. It’s time to begin noticing this, and holding our leaders more accountable for the ideas they present, as well as the consequences they produce for others.

We Can Hear You

Earlier this week, the person formerly known as Bruce Jenner announced the results of the decision to transition to a woman. For now on, she want to be referred to as Caitlyn Jenner.

Given that my context is a Christian one, I expected the response to Caitllyn’s transition to be one of general disapproval. Still, I’m often taken aback by how cruel those of us who are called by the name of Christ are in the name of holiness. Rather than exhibiting the radical inclusivity of Christ’s table, we often sound more like the war and thunder God of the Hebrew Scriptures, demanding that all offending people be destroyed so that God’s “special” people can exist. Social media was ablaze with opinions about how Caitlyn was wrong for tinkering with God’s creation. People refused to use proper pronouns, staunchly declaring that they will still call her “Bruce.” Caitlyn’s actions were decried as demonic and worthy of damnation.

I’m not transgender, but I know how it feels to hear awful things said about you and your reality. Years ago, I was heavily active in a Christian group. We had many fun times. I labored with them, and shared the important life events that people in their early 20s tend to experience. It was during this time that I seriously began to question my sexuality. While I was surrounded by people who demonstrated their care for me, these same people routinely said disparaging things about gay people. The term “gay” was used to describe people who they thought were weak and stupid. Effeminate men were laughed at. There argument was that no one wanted to follow a Christ who would allow “soft brothers” to be at the forefront. “No homo” was a frequently uttered phrase. Being gay was a malady to be cast out, thrown away, bound and tossed into the pit of hell. Queerness of any sort was an aliment that rendered one useless for God’s plan and for any meaningful relationships. Being gay, or even perceived as such, gave the saints of the most high God the right to mock your life and make you into the butt of a joke. This right was often evoked as an obligation.

A infographic from Outright Vermont detailing bullying that LGBT youth face.

The pain I felt was immense. At that point, I didn’t have a clear answer about my sexuality. But I knew if I even brought it up to the people that I cared about, I would never be viewed the same. I would be marked. Regardless of what they might say when I told them, I already knew what they thought of me. Their humor told me everything I needed to know. The the language they used when the topics of soft brothers and homosexuality and the perverse leanings of the world confirmed my lesser status in their minds—and to myself.

I plunged into a dangerous depression for the better part of a year. Most days I felt numb to the world. Other days, the physic pain was so intense that I felt it physically. I turned to alcohol to deal with the pain. My performance in graduate school dropped. I stopped showering. And as time rolled on it became harder to convince myself to not end it all. The pain was too much and it was lasting too long. Perhaps whatever was on the other side of death would be a respite from the torment I experienced every day.

I was lucky. Being a graduate student placed me in close proximity to mental health professionals. I received help to get my life back on track, and new skills to affirm and love myself. However, everyone doesn’t have that chance. Everyone doesn’t have easy access to mental health professionals, and many people don’t live to tell the story.

Now, I take responsibility for my environment. That’s why I distanced myself from those folks and other places that dehumanize LGBTQ people. Anyone who has cannot accept me as I am has limited access to the intimate spaces of my life. And while there were other factors that caused me to experience such a low state, the final blow came from Christians. The people that were supposed to be a source of blessing ended up pronouncing a curse. And that curse almost worked its dark magic on me.

But again, I was lucky. Many LGBTQ people do not escape the curse that is placed on them by their pastors, deacons, and other members of the Christian community. Many are on drugs, homeless, and commit suicide, all because people discuss them in ways that are dehumanizing. Read the statistics about Black LGBTQ youth here. These are your brothers, sisters, friends, and family. It’s foolish to think that hateful speech wouldn’t impact people who are in close relational proximity to. Our careless words and lack of compassion are driving people to their graves.

Your jokes aren’t harmless. Your opinions aren’t just some benign thought thrown into the wind. We can hear you. We hear the remarks you make about us. We hear the “opinions” that are laced with hate and disgust. We read the tweets and the Facebook statuses filled with prayers and commitments to “biblical living” that function more like pronouncements of death to a group of people who you refuse to understand. We hear, we remember, and we hurt.  For a people that believe life and death is in the power of the tongue, the spoken and written word is often used to pronounce death and destruction on those that do not fit into their small view of the world.

Even if you don’t understand or disagree, people lives aren’t jokes. The Caitlyn Jenners and Verdell Wrights of the world are within earshot of you. You may be laughing someone off of a cliff.

Seminary, Divinity School, Bible College: What’s the Difference?

What is the difference between a Seminary, Divinity School, and Bible School?

It’s a good question to ask. Most people go to seminary, bible school, or whatever you call it to prepare for work in ministry. What follows is a brief break down of the differences between these types of theological education, as well as the pros and cons each present. At the end, I’ll give my personal viewpoint.

Keep in mind that these are general definitions and explanations. There are exceptions to them all.

Divinity School

• A school of graduate-level theological education that is attached to a university.
• Offers graduate degrees (M.Div., MTS, STM, etc.) and perhaps certificate programs.
• Bachelor degree needed prior to admission.
• Students can apply for federal funding.

Example(s): Howard University School of Divinity, Duke University School of Divinity, Candler School of Theology at Emory University

The main thing to keep in mind about a divinity school is that is it often a part of a larger body of schools within a university. For example, Howard University has a divinity school, a law school, a school of social work, and communications. This harkens back to the old days when theology was viewed as a major discipline for general education. This doesn’t mean that divinity schools can’t have denominational roots. Often, they divinity school retains the denominational character of the university’s heritage. It just means that a divinity school’s primary connection is to the university that it resides in. Because of their attachment to major research universities, there is a tendency for divinity schools to be moderate to liberal leaning in their theology. A notable exception to this is Regent University School of Divinity, which is conservative evangelical leaning.

Pro(s)

• Exposure to a multitude of perspectives, beliefs, and resources.
• Generally more freedom to pursue higher-level academic work.
• Offers the main degree needed (M.Div.) for ordination in most mainline denominations.
• Academic support for terminal degrees.

Con(s)

• Most have to charge graduate level prices due to the connection to the university.
• Can be very “heady” and focus on theory, with less attention to practical realities of ministry.

Seminary

• A school of graduate level education that is primarily affiliated with a denomination.
• Offers graduate degrees (M.Div., MTS, STM, etc.) and perhaps certificate programs.
• Bachelor degree needed prior to admission.
• Students can apply for federal funding.

Example(s): Wesley Theological Seminary (Methodist), Capital Bible Seminary (Multi-denominational, but evangelical in perspective), Virginia Theological Seminary (Episcopalian)

Divinity schools and seminaries share many traits. The major difference is the institutions with which they are primarily connected. Seminaries serve as the training arm for a denomination’s ministers. Methodists tend to go to Methodist schools, Baptists tend to go to Baptist schools, and so on. This is all depending on the individual goals of the student, of course. Some seminaries, like Princeton Theology Seminary, are known for the high level of scholarship that they produce. That doesn’t mean that seminaries aren’t academic; that’s far from the case. It’s just that programs at a seminary will be more geared toward practical ministry practices. Because of their denominational affiliation, seminaries tend to be more moderate in their theological identities. That is, unless the denomination its attached to is extremely conservative (the Southern Baptist Convention and the Southern Baptist Theology Seminary) or extremely liberal (The United Church of Christ and United Seminary).

Pro(s):

• Ability to extensively experience one theological tradition.
• Less bureaucracy (don’t have to deal with university systems).
• Tends to be a little less expensive than a divinity school.
• More focus on practical ministry.

Con(s):

• Less access to resources to research other Christian traditions.
• Less support for non-traditional ideas and/or theological positions.
• Possible to feel like a “fish out of water” if you don’t belong to the seminary’s denominational tradition.

Bible School

• Post-secondary education (but usually not graduate level).
• Primarily for people that want to have a deeper understanding of the Bible from a faith perspective.

Example(s): Washington Bible College, Emmaus Bible College, Eternity Bible College

Bible colleges used to be popular in the United States. Now, they are few in number. Some are accredited (meaning you can apply for federal funds), but a good number are not. They offer a theologically–based education, but they tend to lean toward fundamentalism[1]. If you’re seeking to be ordained, this isn’t the choice for you. But if you can find one that has a robust general education program, this might be worth a look.

Pro(s):

• Tend to be far less expensive, and therefore more accessible, to people who want college education.
• Tend to have small populations.

Con(s):

• Many aren’t accredited.
• Tend to teach the Bible from a more fundamentalist position.

Bible Institute

• Provides training programs for people that want to understand Scripture better.

Pro(s):

• Inexpensive.

Con(s):

• Completion of a program isn’t useful for other endeavors.

Most of these schools aren’t accredited, so they won’t be helpful to anyone that is seeking ordination. Also, the theology tends to be very, very conservative, with little to no chance to study broadly. Many don’t require a high school diploma to enter. The notable exception to all of this is Moody Bible Institute. Moody is accredited and offers undergraduate and graduate degrees.

As for my story, I went to a divinity school and a seminary. I attended Howard University School of Divinity to complete my Master in Divinity. Then, realizing that I needed some extra work to prepare for doctoral studies, I went to Wesley Theological Seminary to pursue a Master of Theological Studies. As you can see, my goals had an academic bent, so I went to schools that allowed me the freedom to do just that.

Generally, I advise people against theological education unless they are (1) getting scholarship and/or grant money to go and (2) they absolutely need it for their career goals (ordination, doctoral studies, etc.). I touch on why that is in a previous blog post.

So there you have it. Was this helpful? Any more questions? All put the good ones in another blog post.

[1] A quick definition from Wikipedia: “a form of a religion, especially Islam or Protestant Christianity, that upholds belief in the strict, literal interpretation of scripture.”

Between Hope and Weariness

In many ways, I’m tired. No, exhausted is a better word to describe the lack of energy that I’m currently experiencing. It’s not physical. Rather, the exhaustion that has me in its grip is emotional, spiritual even. It is a weariness of a soul that has been asked to go beyond its limits one time too many.

Many would say that this weariness is of my own doing. After all, my exhaustion is the result of actions that I decided to engage in. I tend to organize my life around big visions that require intense investment. I’m a gay man, a BLACK gay man at that, who is striving to center his scholarship in conversations around race, LGBTQ-phobia, and religion. In every social sphere that I’m attempting to do my work, there is a fiery antagonist that I must strive with. When discussing race, I have to start with why it’s even a necessary discussion in the first place. Then, I have to pivot and weather the storms of homophobia and erasure from my own community. For too many of them, my sexuality is a choice, a personal hobby, or an annoying social tick that serves as a distraction from real issues.

In the religious world, I have to contend with the blatant anti-LGBTQ bias as well as the polite, conscientious bigotry of “well-meaning” people that offer unlearned, uncritical analysis of my life and the lives of others. I’m amazed at how much insight people have into my personal life without even knowing my address! My father must’ve abused me. My mom must be overbearing. I must want to be a girl (which is insulting to me and women, by the way). These soundly disproven folktales of homosexual causation routinely emanate from pulpits and barber shops. They live in the minds of otherwise well-educated people. Their right to have a differing opinion often is a smokescreen to allow dangerous views to create a toxic environment. This faulty analysis is offered on the backdrop of divorces, adultery, out-of-wedlock children, abuse, and a host of other Christian “slip-ups” that appear to be worse than having feelings for someone of the same gender.

This weekend, my exhaustion was exacerbated by one of the many examples of how far we’ve often fallen. Top selling gospel artist James Fortune is having a restoration concert. Several months ago, Fortune was in the news for likely assaulting his wife with a barstool. Several years prior, Fortune assaulted his stepson. As a Christian, I believe in the possibility of restoration for all. However, I also believe that God sides with the victims and works in the world for their justice. While I pray that Fortune receives the restoration he needs, the idea of seeing a known abuser lauded by his community while others are marginalized and crushed is nauseating. Fortune has endangered lives and will still have a lucrative gospel career. Anthony Williams, formerly known as Tonex, saw the gospel community dismiss him upon him acknowledging his sexuality. Anyone who considers those two actions similar misses the point.

I could easily remedy this and get the rest my soul is looking for. I could walk away from church, pick a less volatile research interest (communication tendencies of DC hipsters sounds peaceful), and just stay to myself. However, contrary to the beliefs of bigoted commentators and their selective analyses, I perceive the Spirit of the Living Christ moving and animating me. My evidence for God’s presence in my life is that I feel the urging to stay and fight, to stand, to work as hard as I can with my skills to make a difference. Deep down, a faith resides in me that urges me to hope for a new society where these differences, race and sexuality, are celebrated.

But that hope that has pulled me forward does not often address the wounds, those psychic and even physical marks of struggle that one collects when war is a constant reality. As a result of my hope, I find myself constantly disappointed. Not because we are imperfect; I also suffer from my imperfection and others have to suffer from it, too. Instead, I’m disappointed about our overall lack of sensitivity. We don’t even try. We don’t even seem to care. Why is it so contentious to mention women’s issues when they fill the majority of our pews? Why do many use gospel music to demonstrate glitz and glam, when the object of their artistry was born in a dark, dirty manger and died a criminal’s death? I’m asking these questions rhetorically. I know many of the answers. I consider my asking the questions a way to express my current feelings, a location between hope and weariness.

Even still, from this place of weariness, I see a faint possibility of hope in the future. I admit that I mostly see it with my heart at the moment. Perhaps some rest and distance will reveal more tangible examples in my midst. But as I warily drag myself toward the possibility of my hopes I am constantly bombarded by our failures, our sin, our “missing-the-mark” of what God would have us be. Between hope and weariness is where I am, for now. I don’t think this is an unholy spot, but it is a trying one.

That Time When Jesus Started A Riot

The murder of young Michael Brown has grieved and enraged an entire community. Many of them took to the streets in response. Peaceful prayer vigils and protests were met with armed policemen, tanks, and tear gas. Violence broke out. The response has only gotten worse.

As Christians, we are often urged to denounce such demonstrations. This is due to Jesus’ admonition to “turn the other cheek.” Jesus is presented as meek and mild, friendly and full of compassion. And while this is not inaccurate, a vital Gospel account brings this notion concerning Jesus into question. Near the end of his life, Jesus enters into the sacred Temple in Jerusalem.[1] He proceeds to chase people out, block anyone else from bringing anything else into the temple, and flipped over the moneychangers’[2] tables. According to the Gospel accounts, Jesus cites scripture to explain his actions. He declares that the Temple is supposed to be a place of prayer, but instead, it is a “den of robbers.” In John’s gospel, the author places this event near the beginning of Jesus’ career (which is the reason why scholars place Jesus’ ministry activity within a one to three year range). John’s Gospel even depicts, Jesus making a whip.

This took place during the Passover, which was a tense time in the ancient city. Roman troops were on high alert, and any hint of an uprising was promptly extinguished. Herod’s palace was attached directly to the Temple, meaning all the vital aspects of the Jewish faith took place under the watchful eye of Roman rule. That, along with thousands of Jews who sojourned there to celebrate the Passover every year, created some volatile situations.

Many scholars debate this account. The discussion is not about whether or not it happened; it is one of the few events that takes place in all four Gospels. This story is problematic because it depicts Jesus as an aggressor. Also debated is exactly why Jesus did this in the first place. Surely he would have known that doing such a thing would have put him and his followers in grave danger. Were Jesus’ actions in the Temple heavenly mandates, political protests, or a little of both? Two scholars, NT Wright and Obery Hendricks serve as a good balance to get the gist of where scholars tend to fall.

NT Wright views Jesus’ assault on the temple as an act of judgment. For him, Jesus interrupting the temple proceedings was an act that demonstrated two things. First, it was an act that proclaimed Jesus’ royalty. Wright notes that it is often missed that it was the kings of the Jews, legitimate or not, that had the chief role in the handling of the temple.[3] In declaring its operations corrupt, Jesus was simultaneously declaring that he had the right to manage the Temple as its kingly manager.

The second thing that Jesus’ act accomplished, was establishing that God was interacting with earth in a new way. For Wright, Jesus served as the nexus of God’s activity while he was on earth, and the literal place where heaven and earth intersected. Prior, this heaven/earth intersection was thought to be in the Most Holy Place found in the Temple. If Jesus is now the center of attention for the meeting of Heaven and Earth, what use is the temple?[4] In Wright’s view, Jesus’ existence renders the temple obsolete.

Obery Hendricks agrees with Wright’s account of Jesus’ temple assault as judgment, but he focuses on the political realities. Hendricks notes “the priests who administered [the temple sacrifices and declarations] had become inextricably intertwined with systematic appropriation of the goods and resources of ‘the least of these.’”[5] That is, the priests were taking advantage of the poor. Jewish scripture required numerous sacrifices and pronouncements for the events in people’s lives, all of which required payment. In times past and during this present time, the temple elites abused their standing. This only became worse when the temple priests became a puppet for the Roman Empire.

For Hendricks, Jesus’ actions in the temple were not a random show of emotion. Noting that the account follows the cursing of the fig tree and the triumphant procession, “Jesus’ protest was well planned.”[6] It also was not merely spiritual. “Jesus was not committing a purely religious act by attacking the money changers and dove sellers…the Jerusalem Temple was not a purely religious institution.”[7] He goes on to explain how the temple was the center of Jerusalem’s economy. It served as a bank. Priests gave out predatory loans with the intention of default so they could forcefully claim people’s property. Jesus was standing up to a system that actively worked to oppress people who had no way to defend themselves.

The question remains: was this a violent act? There’s no evidence of Jesus hitting anyone, but how does one non-violently chase large amounts of people out of the Temple? How do you non-violently brandish a weapon? Also, given the Temple’s size, Jesus’ presumably had help from his disciples. The Temple was a supermarket, a town square, and a bank rolled all into one. Mix that with Roman soldiers and you have to wonder how a person could peacefully shut a place like this down without help and planning. And if you have tables stacked with money being flipped over in the midst of chaos, is it too much of a stretch to believe that the poor people pocketed some of that change? The popular sentiment at the time was that the temple priests cared nothing about the people’s welfare. Looting, contrary to popular belief, is often strategic and a reversal of the status quo. Most scholars believe that it was Jesus’ attack on the temple that led to his eventual arrest and execution. Someone who is politely making a little noise does not often elicit such a response. Nor are they crucified, for that heinous act was reserved for the most dangerous enemies of Roman rule.

If anything, the temple account in the gospels should teach the reader that aggression and direct action is not something that God frowns on. At the very least, Jesus staged a massive demonstration to critique and disrupt the unfair systems harming people that God loves. God is not afraid of anger, and sometimes the only way to create an environment for change is to shut everything down and declare, “enough is enough.” Smiles and hugs do not affect people who hold no regard for others. Many times, messing with someone’s money and flipping their tables is the only option.

Violence and massive disruption should never be a primary option. But one has to ask, what other ways are there for people who have been brutally and systematically deprived of rights for so long? The proper channels and due process do not exist for people in Ferguson, just like they did not exist for Jesus and the people that suffered under the Romans. Destroying property is violent; so is ignoring the injustice inflicted upon those that cannot defend themselves. Asking them to not be violent, without working to produce radical justice for them, is violent. In many ways, the people of Ferguson are “the least of these.” Jesus would be there with them, not in our posh sanctuaries. He would also flip over tables for them.

For whom would our churches and organizations flip over tables for?

Copyright Brendan Powell Smith http://thebrickbible.com

People are uncomfortable with this Gospel account for the same reason they are uncomfortable with what is taking place in Ferguson. It is not the violence itself, but who is conducting it. Black bodies are already seen as deviant and prone to violence. The “least of these” are not supposed to attack. Empire only approves of violence when it can be used to further its goals. This is also true for the Church. Violence is endorsed every day when wars are sanctioned and harmful rhetoric is preached. Non-violence is bigger than simply not throwing a punch; it is respect and care for life in all ways. The Church may not go around breaking windows today, but she is far from non-violent. She has not been peaceful for centuries.

Racial tensions, economic disparities, and police brutality have gone on in Ferguson for years. The Jews were suffering economically, being occupied by a foreign force, and enduring the brutality of the Roman troops. In both situations, people who had no other recourse took matters into their own hands. Is rioting unpalatable? Yes. Is it respectable? No. But the loss of innocent life and other forms of violence are far less respectable than broken windows and stolen televisions. Is it worth laying aside peace, even for a second, in the interest of justice and freedom?

Jesus seemed to think so.

[1] Mark 11:15-19, Matthew 21:12-17, Luke 19:45-48, John 2:13-16.

[2] In order to buy temple-approved sacrifices from the temple, you could only use temple-approved money. Money stamped with images Caesar or other deities was not accepted.

[3] Simply Jesus 2011

[4] Ibid.

[5] The Politics of Jesus 2008

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ibid.

Black Jesus, Boycotts, Blunts

It is a tradition in Black culture to use humor to highlight issues and view situations from different perspectives. Richard Pryor is legendary for this, and comedians such as Paul Mooney and Chris Rock still do it today. While often crass and jarring, the jokes often expose the realities of life for what they are, and offer new ways of embracing timeless truths.

The show Black Jesus follows in the comedic footsteps on this tradition. Created by Boondocks originator Aaron McGruder, the show debuted on Cartoon Network this past Thursday. The show revolves around Jesus and his adventures with the people in his urban community. The version of Jesus, however, is not the stately one that is seen in popular representations. He also is not white. This version of the man from Nazareth is drinking 40s, smoking with his friends, and delivering words of wisdom mixed with flagrant profanity. Some love him; others don’t know what to make of him. Others think he’s a bit annoying and heavy handed with his preaching.

Many people don’t simply find Black Jesus annoying, but downright blasphemous. Many in the Black Church community expressed anger at this portrayal of Jesus, to the point of pushing for a boycott of the show before it aired. This isn’t surprising. Christianity in general, and Black Christian tradition in particular, is known to hold very conservative views. However, it is puzzling, as well as jarring, that Black Christians are protesting one of the few representations of Jesus with a darker hue.

Anthony Pollard, moderator of the Boycott Black Jesus Facebook page, addresses the race issue. He writes that the boycott attempt, “has nothing to do with color or ethnicity, the historical Jesus was a Hebrew. This TV show is an insult to the beliefs, traditions, values, and most dearly held truths of the Christian faith. It paints a totally unbiblical, unrealistic caricature of Jesus of Nazareth.” If one conducts a Twitter of Facebook search of the hashtag #blackjesus, you’ll see Pollard’s sentiments are shared by many. The outcry will do very little to halt the show. In fact, the negative buzz probably contributed to the show dominating the rating for in its 11pm timeslot.

It is historical fact that Jesus was not an African American man roaming the streets of California. Black Jesus is intended to be a comedy with a side of public commentary. The usage of history poses a problem, however, for those who want claim a sanitized, whitewashed (literally and figuratively) Jesus. History also reveals that Jesus, the real Jesus of the Bible, more closely resembled a homeboy on the corner in Compton than a Victorian model of morality and speaker of perfect British English.

Black Jesus gives the viewer a gritty savior that fails the tests of respectability and class. Truth is, the actual Jesus of Nazareth would have failed these tests as well. While scholars today still argue about the debatable aspects of his life and teaching, one aspect is almost unanimously agreed upon: Jesus was a poor, marginalized Jew under the shadow of an oppressive Roman occupation. This reality would’ve dictated many of the aspects of Jesus’ life growing up. Poverty tends of have these deterministic effects on those suffering under it. Figuring out ways to survive on paltry means and navigating odd jobs around the neighborhood to make ends meet would’ve been his norm. Seeing strange characters doing unsavory activities, as well as living with people crushed by the vicious systems around him would be commonplace. There’s a good chance that Jesus did some of those same things.

Still, reality is hard for people to swallow, given that most Christians view Jesus as a spiritual, all encompassing being instead of a blue-collar worker. That it is so difficult to embrace this truth about Jesus, especially amongst churches that hold Bible study in such high regard, demonstrates the vast disconnect. This controversy won’t push more people away from Church; it reveals how much the Church is already removed from society in terms of influence. Those who are up in arms over this presentation of Jesus need to ask themselves why seeing a normal, human, poor, scruffy, foul-mouthed, and yes, Black Jesus is so jarring to their senses. If that question is answered, they’ll have a clue as to why people don’t hold Church in high regard any longer.

Love it or hate it, the response concerning Black Jesus shows is that people are still excited to talk about the man from Galilee. Even if this version of Jesus has a bit of a potty mouth.