Jim Elliott, the War for Oil, and the North Dakota Access Pipeline.

As protestors rally at Standing Rock, it is important to know what this fight is about, and why it is important. We know about the gold in the Black Hills that led to the Battle of Little Bighorn, we know about the gold that led to the mistreatment of Mexican Americans in the Southwest following the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo.

But oil has taken the injustices against the indigenous population into the twenty first century. I cannot possibly address all of it in a blog article. But I can tell you the role it played in the creating of a Christian evangelical myth.

Every Christian Sunday School child knows the story of Jim Elliot and his fellow missionaries, who travelled to Ecuador to reach a tribe known as the Auca with the gospel. The "Auca" tribal name was a slander given by the enemies of the tribe, more properly known as the Waorani, or Huarani tribe.

The land that the Waorani occupied was land sought after by the oil companies. And the Waorani, who did not suffer fools lightly within their own tribe, was not going to go gently into that good night. They attacked the oilfield workers and looted their camps in retaliation for the encroachment.

Enter Jim Elliot and company. While Elliot's motives may have been pure, what happened as a result of his ministry was not. Family members Rachel Saint and Elisabeth Elliot stayed behind to reach the Waorani. What has long been sold of a story of redemption and forgiveness was really a story of pawns in a game of pacification that saw the Waorani removed by the Ecuadorian government to a "protectorate" on the far western edge of their lands. As they had in the continent to the north, the missionaries "tamed" the savages with pie in the sky promises as they stole and raped their lands

You can find the story here.

The tribes at Standing Rock are fighting against the latest in a long history of injustices against indigenous people, who have watched as the resources were drained from their lands while the people go hungry. In the case of the Waorani, while the oil companies made billions off of the land the tribe once occupied, the tribe continued in poverty to the point where Steve Saint, son of pilot Nate Saint, returned and established a ministry to help steer the tribes towards self sufficiency (and, presumably to complacency in the light of the next injustice).

It is hard for me, as a Christian, to see the Gospel abused for the subjugation of one culture and the enrichment of another. That is not consistent with the message in any context. And it is time for Christian leaders to call for it to end.

Privilege and the Quiverfull Movement

Many years ago, our family unwittingly became tools of the quiverfull movement. I didn't know it at the time, and believed we were in the middle of a good church family, but we were young, and we homeschooled, and as we had children, we were encouraged to have more. In conversations, we heard terminology about "having a full quiver" and about God directing the size of our family that I would come to realize much later was part of a well organized propaganda campaign of the movement.

Now, don't get me wrong; we are and ever will be fully responsible for our own actions and decisions, and do not regret them. But ion the climate where I was a low paid factory with nothing more than a high school education, it was probably not best to encourage us to have more children. The ensuing years gave us challenges that I embraced, but they also saw us thin of resources that had to be spread carefully across the large family. And we find ourselves, mid career, holding our own, but without retirement savings with shorter years left to catch up.

As I watch people admire and emulate families like the Duggars and look back on our own lives, I have to recount that we weren't admired, we weren't emulated. As a matter of fact, in some of the same circles where families would turn on the Duggars faithfully, they held us at a distance. And while we struggled, we faced a general attitude that we had made our own bed, and we were welcome to lie in it. And in some cases, we even faced quite nasty retribution from church members who felt it their Christian duty to try to relieve us of the burden of so many children.

It is one of many reasons I do not trust the church any more. I have not abandoned my Christian faith, but experience is teaching me that a church body of Christians seeking to serve the Lord in sincerity is extremely rare; in my experience, in fact, it doesn't exist. I trust that it does merely out of hope.

But I am thinking of this and how it speaks to privilege. We worship large families who are wealthy, we hold them up as heroes. But large families that struggle through from paycheck to paycheck are chastised as entitlement seeking leeches, while the irony of church members that consider themselves "prolife" escapes them.

The Church will not escape the criticism of those who stand outside it as long as they remain inconsistent on their views of life. It is either sacred or it is not. And if it is sacred, it is always so, and working families deserve as much encouragement and support as wealthy ones.

No Way Out

In my quest to break out of my hellish workplace, I dumbed down my resume. Because presenting myself as I am doesn't work.

Well, anyway, somehow I must have left clicked the box that submits the resume for a resume critique, and basically they said as much.

What I am discovering is I think too much. The solution, of course, would be "professional" help that would select the right pills to numb that part of my mind and help me accept that simply sitting, never questioning, is the best way to spend the remainder of my existence. I can't do that.

I've looked for answers in the church, but no pastor wants to help these days. They want to solve societal problems, but they don't want to connect one on one and deal with the very real problems quite literally looking them in the eye. They provide rhetoric, not answers, and they're quite good at discussing the finer points of theology, quite poor at healing the wounds that infect the body.

The reason I have compassion for the homeless is because I know them. I understand them. They've learned to numb themselves from the very pain that I feel, not to run from it, but to surrender to it. And I look at them and simply wonder, how long.

This is not a "pity piece"; I don't do pity pieces. This is my journal, my thoughts. I had a meltdown at work the other day, and I'm afraid it's just the beginning. And I'm afraid it will happen at the next job. And the next. And that eventually I will run out of answers.

But the only answers people want to give these days come at the bottom of a bottle. Either prescription pills or illicit drugs and alcohol, pick your poison.

Life should not be a miserable existence.

This is My Hell, And I Must Live In It, Alone

As I grow older, I am becoming less and less convinced of the reality of Hell. For the mere reason that the miserable nature of my existence must surely be punishment enough for any of the bad things I have done.

For the past several years, I have genuinely tried to stretch my boundaries, to reach out professionally, to grow, only to discover that a drone will always be a drone and it is ours to accept that lot, and not upset the system. I had a taste, however briefly, of a middle class existence, and it's clear I do not belong there.

So here I sit, in the middle, awake enough to know just how terrible conditions are around me, but powerless to do anything to change it. My job is not to think, only to do, and to be guided solely by the orders of others whom society has dictated my betters.

It is a disgusting condition, and I loathe it. But it is my job to do, not to think.

I only regret that I have brought children into this existence, because my duty is to them, however wretched the world around me might become.

I have dumbed down my resume, removed my degrees, deflated my job titles, in the hopes of getting anything better than the $10 an hour that is barely survival level. I am done.

When the Church ENABLES the Exploitation of the Poor

I spent a lot of years in fundamentalist, evangelical churches. I don't regret that time, although I do regret my silence in the face of some social issues.

As the topic turns to payday lenders, and another predatory lender is exposed, though, I think it behooves us to have the conversation about how the church enables these predatory lenders, rather than speaking out against them. And why it must change.

I spent a year in Bible college, and in the churches I attended, tithing was not optional. It was mandatory. Before you eat, before you pay rent, before you pay utilities, you pay that money to God. And yes, you tithe on the gross, not the net, because that's what it means to give of the "firstfruits".

I took it in, hook, line and sinker. I was so afraid of God that I didn't take time to truly disseminate the meaning. Because, after all, a perch in a very very hot place awaited me even as I didn't. Even as these same churches, ironically, declared that we were saved by grace through faith, and not works.

I tried it. And it ruined me financially. In fact, I must admit with some chagrin that when I didn't tithe and the car died, I honestly believed that to be God's punishment. And so I tithed with greater fervor.

My family suffered for that in many ways. But if I went to the church to ask for help, I was chided for not being faithful and supporting my family. The same family they insisted it was my duty to create. I literally could not win as I went from depressing dead end job to dead end job, including 9 months working 750 below the fiery surface of Death Valley California in the mines.

So who do you turn to when the inevitable things happen? Not your savings, you put that in the offering plate. Not your pastor, he has bigger things to worry about like a broken projector or how to bring in a big name Christian star for an outreach event. Nope, in fact the only ones waiting with money were the predators. And so, yes, in desperation, we turned to them. Our credit was terrible, but things had to be done. And in one instance in Nevada, I literally drove a car with no brakes for six months. Not bad brakes, mind you, NONE. I learned to be very skillful about using neutral and park.

We rarely went anywhere because I could not risk literally endangering my family's lives every time we took that car out.

But that tithing, that tithing had to be paid.

Earlier on, I left a truck by the wayside in Washington, an issue that caused a lifelong rift between myself and a man I once considered a mentor and my dearest friend. Because I did not even call to have someone help me out.

But what he didn't understand, and what I in my pride failed to convey, is that I DID call. And I heard the background conversation as the phone lay on the counter, the repeated sighs as here I was again asking for another favor.

Lesson learned. I learned then and there NOT to call upon people.

The church should be in the job of building up the people, not exploiting them. And laws can only do so much. A church that does not STRENGTHEN the hand of the poor and the needy is not serving God, they are serving themselves. And a church that does not properly convey that you have a responsibility to your own physical care before you give to the offering plate is sending an improper message.

The illustration of the widow's mite is often given to show that we are to give sacrificially. Yet nowhere in that verse does it say that widow was living homeless on the streets before she gave that mite. Nowhere does it say she did not have food in her pantry. We cannot read into the passage things that are not there to suit our greed.

Nowadays when the subject of tithe comes up, my response is: "get it from my boss. I am working full time making below the poverty level, so it's his to pay, not mine". Not a completely spiritual answer, mind you, but I am done trying to prove my spirituality. I think it's about time to start being real!

Going Against the Grain

It is 4 AM and my mind is unsettled. Unsettled not because I don't have a clarity of thought or purpose, but unsettled because of the difficulty of what I am trying to do. The difficulty, nay impossibility, of being a person who is wholly devoted to God and rather orthodox in personal theology and worship, but struggling to reconcile with the community around him. The difficulty of one who gravely understands the seriousness of our time spent on earth and how it reflects and honors the God I serve.

It is this same gravity and seriousness that has set me at odds with certain members of the church body. The ones who feel that, although I am straight, I am a sinner for supporting my LGBT brother and sister through their daily struggles against a society that does not, will not even attempt to understand. The ones who feel that I am evil because I demand that workers receive a living wage in a time when our culture believes that wealth should be piled among the few, and that the financial burdens of funding our government should fall upon the lowest paid. The ones who believe that I am hellbound because I would hold the hand of the woman who has made the painful and personal decision to have an abortion rather than cut it off and cast her into outer darkness.

But in the quiet of the night, as there is nothing but the sound of the window rattling from the central air running through the house, I must answer a question almost as old as humanity. It is the same question asked by the world's first murder as the blood of his brother was fresh on his hands: Am I my brother's keeper?
The Lord never answered this question, because Cain knew. We ARE our brother's (and sister's) keeper.

For that reason, I worry about the 41% of transgendered individuals who will attempt suicide at some point in their lives. There is much I don't know, much I do not understand about gender dysphoria, but if I accept the idea that I am indeed my brother's (and sister's) keeper, it is something I MUST learn. And I must learn it free from prejudice, free from fear, free from judgment. For I am not called to be a judge, but a standard bearer for Christ.

For that reason, I worry about the worker who will go home at the end of the day with less than he needs to survive. I worry about his children, struggling with undiagnosed and untreated conditions because we have placed the well being above the wealthy above the right of their parent to earn enough in 8 hours' labor to pay for the things they need to become bright and productive workers. I worry about the fading eyes as that worker struggles against the diabetes wracking his body because there is no money, no time to leave the workplace and make his way to the doctor's office. I worry about the bullets that echo through the night outside the home that was supposed to be their haven because that one place was the only one they could afford.

For that reason, I worry about the mother, who cannot support her child, but who knows her baby will not be adoptable because the skin color is wrong, or there is a genetic condition that will make it unlikely her baby will have a forever home. I worry that she will return home to the man who beats her, perhaps for one very last time before she ends up a nameless body in the county morgue. I worry that she will not receive the education she needs to provide a home for her children, and that the sanctimonious congregations I am rejecting will brand her a whore because the grace that Jesus offers is given in their world only to those who have never sinned greatly.

Yes. In the quiet of this night, my mind is unsettled. It is unsettled because I AM my brother's (and sister's) keeper, and because all of these burdens are as much mine as they are the individuals who suffer around me. And because I was called to heal those wounds, and not to hurt them.

My biggest failing is fear of how I will be received. My biggest failing is the fear that standing for those who cannot means that I will be judged by those who by the people in the church walls who believe their work ends where those walls do. That fear is my biggest sin.

The morning will come, and I will be just as unsettled. But there will be noise to silence these thoughts. There will be action. There will be the birthday of my five year old son, who will one day inherit the legacy that I have created. And I have a choice: to protect him from it, or to teach him that he, too, has a responsibility greater than himself.

I know what path I will choose. But I am finding it is a very lonely one.

Are Pastors Abusing Their Power?

As the political season advances, it kills me to see how many Americans will vote against their own self interest. The saddest part, however, is that many will do so not because its what they want, but because it's what the guy standing at the front of the sanctuary on Sunday demands.

Pastors in America have done a deplorable job in politics. They know that many in their congregation are not thoroughly versed in Scripture. They take advantage of that. Ironically, in this day and age, the Reformation means nothing, as pastors in most churches are nothing more than "little popes", believing that they and they alone, possess the keys to Scriptural understanding and are called to deliver them to the little people. Instead of "equipping the saints for His Service", they have haughtily held back the keys to the kingdom by pretending that only through an anointing by man can Scripture be understood. And nowhere is this more clear than in politics.

Let's be clear: neither the Republican nor the Democratic Party presents a Christian approach to the problems our leaders face. Abortion is wrong, yes, but so is starving the poor and presenting a mother with no options. And so is judging someone without helping them find a way out.

I say this on the issue of abortion because it's the one I wrestle with the most. While I am politically prochoice, I am decidedly and unapologetically prolife on a personal and moral level. That means that I seek to make alternatives available, assurances that the fears of the mother considering won't be realized; that her child won't live today only to find death tomorrow through disease, starvation, or the rampant violence that fills our inner cities. In my belief, I take that further to include the guarantee that the child won't have to worry about living today to find death 20 years from now in a battlefield in some foreign country, or at the end of the executioner's needle.

That, to me, is what prolife means.

And at the same time pastors oppose moral evils, they oppose a living wage. I have seen pastors post some rather nasty memes criticizing the fight for $15, when they should be joining the fight. They insist that their congregants should stay underpaid, yet they lament when the coffers of the church aren't filled with the coins that the poor collect as their portion for a week's labor.

If the pastors will insist on allowing the wealthy to steal the wealth that the poor have earned, then I insist that the pastors should collect the tithes from the employer, not the employee, as the employer holds the pilfered wages of their employees. And I refuse to tithe to any church that does not advocate a living wage, as their teaching is heresy.

Pastors are called to lead their flock, not to manipulate and twist their minds. They are to present the WHOLE gospel, including the parts they don't like. Otherwise, they are quite definitely abusing their power.

It's past time to call theem on this.

Dear Pastor: It's Time We Had a Talk

I know that on this page, often my discussions come across as a bit harsh and abrasive. And you know what? Sometimes they are. I'm not really super at this communication thing and often choose less than imperfect means to express myself.

It's a fault, I admit it, and I am working to change that. I thank all of those patient enough to endure it.

So let's have a talk, shall we? A real one. About why it is that I keep hammering points home and going against the grain.

We've become a socially disconnected society, and the church, which once fulfilled a large role in the social structure of adults, has been a part of that. It's not the fault of pastors, even though it's tempting to say so. They're swimming hard against a cultural tide, and they endure massive criticism with scant praise. I get that part of it.

But if you will listen, if you will just TRY what I am about to say, I believe it will fundamentally change your ministry. And if it doesn't, just throw it away as one of those hair brained ideas, just as you would the book you bought off the discount rack at LifeWay and found less than fulfilling.

I'm speaking from a personal place here, so if you disagree with me, please do it respectfully. I will respond in kind.

Your congregants need to be heard. And not just the mental sticky notes, not just with a casserole delivered in time of need or the Christmas drive. Those things are great, yes, and they're essential, but not as essential as sitting down and finding out the things about your congregants that cannot be written down on paper.

Know them. Know their hopes, their dreams, their fears. Know their favorite baseball team, the kind of car they drive. And respect their politics even if you completely disagree. Every pastor I have ever known has learned the virtue of strategic silence. In getting to know your congregants, you may want to use that judiciously.

Realize that every congregant is a work in progress. If I have failed as a Christian, this has been my Achilles heel. I expect too much, expect everyone I encounter as a Christian to know the same things and have the same life experiences I do. That is an impossible expectation and is setting them up to fail.

Know WHY that person didn't put money in the offering plate. Know and understand the realities of people struggling to survive, who may remain silent because they don't want to be seen as complaining or begging. Know the reason why they didn't come to church, why they didn't give money when the missionaries came to town, why they couldn't buy that cake at the bake sale, or why their kids couldn't make it to summer. Know them, and encourage them. This doesn't have to be monetary support, sometimes the best thing you can do is just let them know that you care.

You are in a place to be powerful change agents, a position I wish I could have, but am increasingly understanding why I do not. In pursuing your doctorate, in meetings with deacons, in your outreach to the community, do not forget that young man who came in five minutes after the sermon started and left as the organist struck up the opening notes on the closing hymn because he has difficulty interacting with people and wanted to avoid the awkwardness.

He needs you. I need you. Jesus needs you.

And these things are far more important than the broken projector.

Blessings and peace.

Church Leaders: The Problem is Not the WORLD, The Problem is YOU! The Problem is Me!

I have weighed posting this. I realize that it will sever my relationship with the evangelical church fully and finally, and I realize the horrific cost if I am wrong. But watching the growing elephant in the room, I feel that I must speak, even at the risk of being wrong.

I have listened to numerous pastors lament declining membership, declining contributions within their churches. And always, always the blame has been cast on the congregants. They're not guided by faith, they're putting money before God, they're putting the world before church; I've heard them all. But I am going to tell you from firsthand experience why I believe with every fiber in my being that you are wrong, and that the problems emanate from the front of the church, rather than the back.

First, the most fundamental role of leadership is accountability. Satan cannot steal from a properly tended flock. Pastors have listened too much to experts that focus more on MBAs than they do on their relationships with Christ. Experts who make Jesus out to be a CEO and tell you to cut your least profitable elements.

They will tell you that those who walk away will walk away anyway, and that they are merely malcontents. They will tell you to cut the least profitable elements of your ministry. They will tell you that marketing and multimedia make a church.

But as the old rule goes, nobody has to advertise toilet paper. It is a needed product, and people WILL find it. The same goes for the church, if you are properly tending your flock.

People are hurting like no time in recent history. For many Americans the recession never ended, and for many more, wages have lost ground against inflation. You can judge them for their iGadgets and their cars, but the truth is, in an increasingly connected world, many of those gadgets are necessary, and since the only way for many folks to buy a car is through payments, they are buying newer cars in the hopes their cars can outlast their payments. There are too many variables for you to make those judgments, so don't.

Jesus railed AGAINST the status quo; He spoke out AGAINST the exploitation of the poor, yet modern ministers are enabling it. The very best seats in the church go to the biggest donors, and the church has done so much to dismantle social safety nets and shame the poor that it is becoming very clear who too many of these ministers are working for.

Want to find the problem with church leadership? Get up, walk down the hall and look in your bathroom mirror. You will find it. And I am saying this as much about myself as you, for I have known this for many years, but remained silent because I hoped at one point to actually be able to be a leader within the church and make change. I did not know that there was an entire system in place to keep people like me from ever inheriting the mantle of ministry.

We come from a church of simple faith, a church that didn't busy itself with political endorsements. A church that realized the role of the church and the role of the state had conflicting interests, and that taught its members to respect their authority, not to rebel against it, and certainly not to seize government land and force standoffs. A church that despised injustice.

Today's church leaders are as bought and sold as our politicians. Instead of guiding the church by faith, they have guided it by business principles. I understand that; it's hard to see a light at the end of the tunnel sometimes. But as I have discovered in my personal life, sometimes you have to believe.

I am closing this article with a purpose: I have wrestled long and hard against what I have to do. Today, I am officially beginning my personal ministry (appropriate, as I am writing this on the first day of Lent). I know the road ahead of me will come with many bumps, and I know that I will fall at least as often as I walk, but I know with God's guidance I will get there.

The service to the poor in our community has been abandoned to the "liberal" church, and they have been too long despised for doing the work that Jesus commanded. I intend to be about that business, and that alone, for as long as God allows me to remain on this planet. I am renouncing any material comforts beyond what is needed to communicate and to continue to do what I am called to do, and I am building my ministry without walls. I'm no longer complaining about it, I am setting about fixing it.

And you are free to join me. I hope you will. But if not, I will not wait for you to join, or to lead. I am open to instruction, I am open to Godly correction. But I am not open to anything or anyone that will derail me on this course. I will no longer be the problem. And I hope my words will inspire you in that direction as well.

Not Fitting In: It's What I Do Well

And so we prepare to move on yet again. As we've looked for a place to call "home", unfortunately, my tendency to speak my mind has cost me not a few friendships. If only I would shut up, I would get along much better.

I started this blog to blog my thoughts as I faced an increasing disconnect with the church, and with society. With every stop, we hope it will be our last, hope that we can find a place where we can just be who we are and find acceptance.

Sadly, in a world where "tolerance" is a catch phrase, we still haven't found it. Last year at this time, I told friends that if this year was like last year, we would find ourselves on the road, we just didn't know where.

Well, the preliminary numbers are in on 2015. And it's sobering. Our household income was 50% of the year before. My contract work was 25% of the year before. And with the older kids working, we have to count their income towards the household income for benefit purposes. So it's either charge them rent, kick them out, or tighten our belt because we don't qualify for certain programs. And honestly, I want my children to build for THEIR future, not mine.

An opportunity opened near OKC in early November. But it closed. But not before we had made the commitment to move. Having been rejected for the professional jobs in our small community, I began applying to the minimum wage jobs. Three places. One outright ignored me, the other never called me back after I spoke with the manager, the third kept claiming they had hired me, they just needed to get me put on the schedule. Then a trip to the store to the other day when the manager was telling someone else in the store that the previous manager was choosing between me and a current employee and chose the current employee.

Yet they never had the guts to tell me I didn't get the job.

And so, we're down the road a spell. Hoping beyond hope we can find a place where we belong for more than a few years.

I've often wondered what drove people to states of hopelessness and homelessness, and now I understand. The ultimate goal of being a social animal is to find a group in which you are truly, genuinely accepted. And unfortunately, the groups I keep finding accept you only conditionally.

But perhaps that's the reason for the journey: to understand.

In 2016, I Am Asking You This

John 3:30 "He must increase, but I must decrease".

First, to all of you armchair theologians, yes, using this as an instruction for all Christians is taking the passage WAY out of context. These words were spoken by John the Baptist, and apply specifically to his ministry. So please don't take what I am about to say as in any way superinterpreting Scripture.

Now, with that tidy little disclaimer out of the way, let me tell you that those words are NEVER wrong when spoken from the mouth of (or typed from the keyboard of, such as the case may be) a believing Christian.

So in 2016, I am asking you to think less of me. It is my goal that my words, my actions, and my thoughts become more closely conformed to those of Christ. That I become more of an image bearer, and more focused outwardly than inwardly.

Think less of me, and more of Christ. This is my admonition to you in the days and years to come. And I pray that my life be lived in such a manner as to make that much easier for you.

Blessings and peace in the coming year.

If We Make It Through December

WARNING: DO NOT READ if you feel that venting is the same as whining, or if you are inclined to condemn rather than console. I'm really not in the mood!

When I came to a saving faith in Christ back in 1988, I would describe myself as being a very enthusiastic convert. In the intervening years, a lot of the enthusiasm changed, but has not waned.

But right now, sitting here today, I am asking myself where the church is. Not just for me; my needs do not matter...but for the hurting world around me that we are called to serve.

I've heard miraculous stories of how someone was in need and that need was suddenly and inexplicably met by someone who didn't know them, or that need. I've heard that, but honestly rarely seen that. Yes, I have seen needs provided for, but never in the miraculous, mysterious manner we so often hear about. It is enough that I understand the skeptics' questioning the existence of God.

As I sit here typing this, we are in a world of turbulent financial uncertainty. We're planning a move, and we know that tax time is less than three months away (sooner, if our W2s get in time). But holidays and medical expenses have depleted our already lean emergency funds (our holiday spending was quite modest -- about $25 per person, but our shopping trip included an unexpected stay way from home due to some wild and unforecast weather....then the medical emergencies hit!)

But still, I know the God in whom I put my trust is able -- and I know that we will get through this, as everything else. I am finding it impossible to obtain work locally at any wage, and if it weren't for my wife's income, we would not have had a Christmas at all. In about 2 weeks' time, I will be staying 120 miles from home while I seek out work down there. Anything to keep the lights on.

But I'm honestly wondering about those "miracles". As I have driven a good amount, I've noticed people are less and less inclined to pull over for someone in need. We allow cynicism to guide our decisions rather than humanity, and it is small wonder why people are finding the Church as less and less an answer to their spiritual questions.

I am realizing in the midst of this that it is impossibly easy to be homeless in this culture. Yet we give token compassion to the homeless, we show up for photo op feeds on holidays and give our canned beets to the food banks thinking that our work is done. Yet somewhere between homeless and lower class, there exist scores of people for whom a major medical expense would be devastating. Our family is not one of those, but we're closer than I'd ever hoped to be.

The Merle Haggard song, "If We Make It Through December" seems stunningly appropriate right now.

Still, the heaters are running and we're able to keep the home modestly comfortable. But when those utility bills hit, it won't be quite so rosy. I don't even want to imagine what it's like for those worse off.

But I do, because I remember it is those people I am called to serve.

So have a blessed 2016 -- I know I will. But let's resolve this next year to focus less on the material and more on what matters. There are lives that hang in the balance.

A Sad Journey

It started innocently enough. A few oped pieces and cartoons that I admittedly found humorous even though they disagreed with my political ideology. And, of course, the flood of Facebook memes.

I knew being a political progressive in an evangelical church would be challenging. But, I would not sacrifice the sound doctrine, and besides, I felt that with a little perspective, there would be a change, where people realized that they don't need to abandon their faith to support programs to help the poor out of poverty, a living wage, universal healthcare, those kinds of things.

I could live with that. After all, we can disagree on some things. Still, it was an uphill battle.

The tipping point came when a man named Donald Trump entered the picture. Most people in the churches made it clear in 2012 that they no longer wanted a Christian candidate, but this was ridiculous. Thrice married, no political experience, his foreign policy experience comes from "Meet the Press". And his much touted business acumen includes a string of bankrutpcies.

He called Mexicans rapists and thieves. People roared. He said wages were too high, to thunderous applause. But when two people in California went on a shooting rampage, everything changed.

Suddenly, in the wake of that, it was no longer expedient to be silent. As Trump's fanbase insisted on a war on refugees, a war on Islam, the voices coming out seemed hauntingly familiar. And rather than decry this hate from the pulpit, the conservative church condoned it, and in some cases, encouraged it.

It became clear that the time to separate is now. The time for tolerating dissenting opinions ends when real threats are waged against people. The time for unity ends when The Great Commission and the Great Commandment are no longer relevant, but rather the Almighty Dollar becomes king. When Mammon is worshipped rather than God.

I would rather it not come to this end. I would rather have a home to worship. But until the Church regains its sanity, I will not be there. Until we serve unapologetically, unceasingly, and unwaveringly without fear, I will worship in my own way with those who believe as I do, that God's Syrian and Palestinian children are as important as His American and Israeli children.

I did not come to this position lightly, nor will I abandon it lightly. I love the Church, but I also love the children of God, and when there comes a conflict between the two, I will serve the latter.

I am still a part of the Church, still a part of the Body of Christ, just an outcast one that folks aren't going to recognize.

And I can dig it.

Why I'm Glad We Don't Teach Our Kids About Santa

This Christmas morning, I'm thankful. My wife spend her birthday last week in the hospital. She wound up being hospitalized for two additional days, and the very last of our emergency funds were exhausted between that and the lost income for the hospital stay.

Still we are blessed. We live in a nation of abundance, and have so much to be grateful for. We had already purchased Christmas gifts for the family, so we didn't have to worry about there being no Christmas because of the latest developments.

Still, a look across my friends' pages reminds me of what a starkly different life we lead than they do. Not a better one, not a worse one, but a different one. And one for which I am immensely grateful.

Growing up, I was pretty much aware of the nonexistence of Santa Claus by my kindergarten year. As we sat together in class, and told each other what gifts we had, I noticed that socks, secondhand books and toys with most of the parts missing didn't compete with the Evel Knievel stunt bikes, and later, Atari, then Nintendo systems that my friends received. It was clear that Santa had a different sack of toys for those of us who lived in government housing.

I resolved to save my children that embarrassment, because I was pretty sure we would never be wealthy. I am thankful that I've never planned for wealth, because, while we enjoy a life of abundance, it is not one that most people in the US would envy. But we have been blessed in so many ways that never show up on a balance sheet.

We spent about $200 for Christmas. That's it. No, not per person, for all 9 of our family members. Well, that's not quite true; we put in another $65 in stocking stuffers from Dollar Tree. It is the only time of year that we buy candy, and you can get dollar store candy pretty cheap, so we do.

So many pictures and videos, though, of expensive presents and gifts. I don't begrudge those families that; again, they live a different lifestyle than we do, and that's OK. What I don't like about it, though, is that when I go to the Bible and teach my children to be servants of God, to give sacrificially, and then have to explain to them why Santa gave them that $10 magic set despite their abundantly giving hearts, but gave one of their friends an IPad.

I'm not encouraging anyone to give differently; we all have different resources, and different things to give. And certainly we should celebrate our family as we see fit. But if we teach them that these gifts come from "Santa", we are teaching the wrong message; that one's worth rests in their wealth. And that somehow, those kids in the poor families don't measure up, and no matter how sincerely they plead, Santa will not have room on his sled for their gifts.

And if we teach them that Santa is deaf to the pleas of the poor kids, how, then, will they view God?

A Messy Divorce

In this advent season (which I don't really celebrate as such, but understand the desire of the Christian community as a whole to do so), it is wholly fitting that we should see the Syrian refugee crisis emerge. Never has a call been more clear to serve God and testify to His love than when we see the throngs of people attempting to escape oppression and look for hope beyond their borders.

Never has the need for a true evangelist been more obvious.

But a lot has changed within the church. Instead of evoking an image of Mother Theresa embracing the hurting, the needy, feeding the hungry, and clothing the poor, we have Christian leaders promoting the image of a Commando Christ, with the worship of guns rather than God, attacking the people who need Him the most.

That is not the God I understand. And that is not the God I will serve. Yes, I have watched patiently as we have engaged in wars, trusting that our leaders had intelligence that I didn't, and refusing to wage a full scale war on foreign policy right here at home. I believe an opposing voice was needed, but unless I felt the call was clear, was not willing to BE that opposing voice. In the wake of this current crisis, that has changed.

Jesus never promised the way would be easy. Quite the opposite. We revere people like Corrie Ten Boom, whose family suffered greatly in their display of Christian faith in the face of Nazi terror. We champion disciples like Bonhoeffer, who led the Confessing Church in the very midst of that tempest. We extol the Quakers and their involvement in the Underground Railroad. Yet we insist in the face of Islamic extremism that the answer lies in carbines, not in Christ.

How differently would history have been written if Jim Elliott and his crew had pulled out the weapons (which they had) and swept the beaches clear of the attacking Waodani when they died for the Gospel in which they believed.

Understand, I am certainly prone to frustrated outbursts. But understand this is not one of those. In the 27 years since I have been a Christian, I have studied closely the lives of the martyrs, those whose faith weathered in the midst of persecution. And I know from those readings that the path the church leaders take is not always the correct one.

And so, rather than create division within the church, I will respect the leaders within those churches and take my leave. I will not allow the discussion to turn to the genocide, when we were called to REACH the people who hate us, when we are called to LOVE our enemies, even to the point of forfeiting our lives if necessary.

I cannot express, though, how difficult this is. I love the people in these churches, I just cannot agree with them on this extremely fundamental point of doctrine. The mainstream Christian response towards the refugees is wrong. I would bet my very salvation upon it, if it were mine to give. The Jesus who could have called 10,000 angels is certainly capable of defending my family even in the midst of the tempest.

To the Evangelical Church: Where You Are Going, I Cannot Go

I started this blog with the intent of expressing my frustration of being a misfit within the Christian community. This week, it crossed a line.

This is not meant as a judgment on anyone but myself. This is about my personal walk, and if your beliefs are different, I respect that.

But if you are attempting to change my mind, I insist that you use Scripture, and not your personal opinion, to prove me wrong. Anything less is inadequate.

My breaking point is over the Syrian refugees. I have seen so much hate, so much anger towards these people, and blame directed towards the refugees for the actions of ISIS.

At first I shared the concern about the safety of aiding the refugees. But then, on closer examination of Scripture (that will come in just a moment), I considered that my only proper response was towards the refugees. My belief was bolstered when an immigration lawyer discussed the refugee process at length. It is far lengthier and more extensive than most people believe (you can find the details here).

But more to the point, failing to aid the refugees contradicts Scripture, as far as my understanding takes me.

I'll start with Ezekial 16:49: "For this was the sin of your sister Sodom: pride and excess of food, while the poor and needy suffered outside her door". Remember, Sodom was destroyed completely for this sin.

In Matthew 22, Jesus is asked which is the greatest commandment. He replies that there are two: Love the Lord Your God with all your heart, soul and mind, and love your neighbor as yourself. In Luke 10:29, Jesus is asked "who is my neighbor".

He replies with the story of the Good Samaritan, a man who was detested by the Jews, yet who became a comfort to a hurt and lost traveler when the righteous and the religious leaders had passed him by.. That man, Jesus implies, was the one who acted as a neighbor.

And in Matthew 25:31-46, Jesus speaks of the separating of the sheep and the goats. He states "whatever you have done to the least of these, this you have done unto Me." He further states that what you have NOT done to the least of these, this you have done NOT unto him.

And so at times like this we are called not to give in to our fear, but to transcend it. To be a light in the darkness, to be the salt of the earth. Not to cower and revoke the very promise on which our country was founded.

And so I fully take leave of the evangelical church. If the sojourner is not welcome there, neither am I. If the undocumented immigrant cannot find fellowship there, I must find fellowship elsewhere as well. If the church will not be a hospital for sinners, then I must take my leave and find one that will.

This is not a statement I take lightly; it is only after much painful self examination that I have determined it is the only option. I know where I am headed going forward, but will keep that under wraps. But if your church will not be a sanctuary to those in the greatest need, it is not a sanctuary for me or my family.

God bless each and every one of you and have a very merry Christmas!

Agape

I have a confession to make: I'm not doing it right.

Sure, I try. Sure, I do everything I can to ensure that I try to catch every opportunity to minister that comes my way. But on the road from here to there, I've discovered something.

First of all, understand this is about me and my journey. It's not about your journey, and not meant to be a judgment or a condemnation in any sense. If it helps you on your journey, take it, use it. But this is about my journey and my own observations.

I noticed a group of "dirty kids" in the parking lot today. I ambled over to help them because I know that a lot of folks won't. And because I genuinely have come to love the ones I've met, and figure that maybe that dollar I give the ones I come across will be paid forward just enough to scratch the palm of the fellow I met six months ago on the road to Santa Fe. Or the young couple busking on the corner of a dusty street.

And when I'm walking away, I can't help but think of all of the opportunities I've missed. The people who inflicted genuine hurt, genuine pain that I refused to simply pile up at the cross. The fellow who cheated me on the car deal a ways back. The family whose inaction towards their own family member's actions brought about a very dark period I wasn't sure I would quickly escape. Those people.

The people just as deserving, just as in need, just as missing of a vital piece of their lives.

I remember some years back when encountering a child with Down Syndrome. This kid was, as most I've met with Down Syndrome, incredibly loving, but had a serious drool problem. And I have a serious aversion to such things. As he reached his arms around me and I felt the slimey drool on my arms, and on my clothes, I realized that I could not in any way outwardly express this aversion for fear of hurting the feelings of the young man. I returned the embrace, the inner cringe slowly starting to release, as I realized it was for just these  occasions that soap and water were invented.

And when he walked away, I found myself in not so big a rush for soap and water. The kid had taught me a lot.

Agape love, true love, is sometimes dirty, sometimes nasty, sometimes the epitome of what we fear. But it is always right and it is never focused on self.

May I learn to be an agent, not of compassion, but of genuine, heartfelt, agape love. May I get it right.

Should the Poor be Embarrassed for their Poverty?

We had a discussion today in church that turned to poverty and the approaches to it. Someone stated that the poor deserve to be embarrassed for their poverty.

It was all I could do to bite my tongue. But in the context of the situation, it was the only response appropriate at the time. This is not a conversation on which I will sit silent for long, though, and so I am addressing it here.

First of all, we must think of what poverty is, and what it is not. Poverty is caused by a variety of problems. Sometimes it is genuine laziness, but more often things like mental illness and an overwhelming sense of hopelessness lead people to situations where they are in poverty. Neither is a situation where we should feel it appropriate to "embarrass" the person who is caught in poverty.

First, humiliating someone is an ultimate act of condescension. We treat them (and, indeed, many people see them) as being less worthy, or of lower character, than ourselves. There is nothing Christlike in this response, and there is nothing compassionate about it.

We may as well tattoo them or otherwise mark them so that we can spit on them. Suggesting that we should humiliate them shows an ugly side of humanity that we need to be rid of.

Then there is the very real likelihood that if we accompany assistance with humiliation, people who are genuinely needy and deserving of that assistance will refuse it because they do not want to be shamed. But the people who are genuinely mooching won't care. This means we're doing the exact opposite of what common sense dictates: we're ensuring that the people who need the help the most are the least likely to receive it.

So how should we approach it? Well, first, I believe charity should be privately administered, ideally. The church abandoned its role a long time ago, and I don't see high profile religious leaders chomping at the bit to reclaim that role (Pope Francis being an exception). If we can treat every case of poverty individually, we can help identify the problem, and, ideally help create a solution. This means, instead of embarrassing the poor, we are empowering them.

Maybe it's a mental or physical health issue that needs to be treated. Maybe it's addiction. Maybe it's job training, or resources that need to be provided. Maybe (as in the disabled) it's equipment to accommodate their needs. Maybe it is simply a listening ear. A heartfelt approach to poverty will be very hands on. And it will be very ugly from time to time, which is probably why so few are willing to undertake it.

Second, we need to see ourselves as equal to every poor individual. Not greater than, not less than, but equal. As Christians, we worship a Savior who discarded his Godly form to take his place among us. Do we really feel we are deserving of a higher standing?

The solutions to poverty are complex, and we will never find them in our lifetime. But we should never stop trying, and we should never develop our policy around the idea that the poor deserve to be embarrassed or humiliated.

The Conservative Hypocrisy on Life

I have seven kids.

And they all have the same father, and the same mother.

If I were a reality TV star, or if I were a wealthy real estate developer to the wealthy, that would make me an icon. They'd be displaying me as an example of American family values, and talking about the sanctity of life.

But the same people that worship at the shrine of Duggar have some very harsh words for families working on less than a median income. So before I continue I will answer a few questions for you: yes, I know what causes that, no we're not part of the Quiverfull movement, and I don't have a personal opinion on the Duggars.

I would be lying, though, if I said that our church homes didn't influence our choices. We were told how precious life is, and how children are a blessing. We were not told those same churches consider them a middle class blessing, and that poor families were to be shamed.

I love every one of my kids, and while there are things I would do differently, I couldn't imagine a present reality without every one in my life. They all bring unique personalities and perspectives to the table, and while I haven't been blessed with a lot of money, I've certainly been blessed with a lot of love. My children are the reason I even endure a workaday existence.

Yes, it would be nice if I made more money. But, see, I actually have a degree. One I actually was hired to use in the town where I live. The problem is, IT jobs are in very short supply here, and I stuck around after I had left my old job. And thus, the workaday existence.

But where I get extremely frustrated is when I see the same people that feel compelled to openly condemn my family and I claiming to value "life". They celebrate it as a hypothetical, but they're not so friendly with it when it's sitting right in front of them.

Oh, sure, folks have helped us at times...sometimes overwhelmingly so...but always with the disapproving "don't you know where that comes from" stare, and a belittling and condescending attitude.

This has often made me feel that the commitment to life is often conditional. It is cherished when it is convenient.

And it is that inconsistency that makes it harder and harder for me to defend the conservative church.

Exhausted and Empty

DISCLAIMER (As these, sadly, have become necessary these days): Please, before reading, understand what this article is and is not. It is NOT asking for pity, or condemning anyone or any entity. It IS my personal thoughts, my personal journal, in the hopes that someone else can see themselves in them and gain strength through a sense of understanding they are not alone.

Today, I have nothing. I feel spent, I feel drained, and I have no idea how to communicate that. We live in a world where hyperbole is so often the norm that when someone's truly run to the end of the road, there's no way to express that without someone feeling they are saying things that they honestly weren't saying.

I am tired of being the much maligned "liberal" in an area where that is a swear word. I am tired of personal attacks for holding an opinion that doesn't match others. I am tired of unending criticism with absolutely no recognition for the validity of my thoughts and ideas. And I've found it crosses the spectrum; if I challenge any of the ideas of any of my friends, regardless of ideology, it seems that it's open season directed at me.

To some the answer is simple: just shut up. And if it were that easy for me, I would. But I shut up for a lot of years, and I've seen things happen that never should have taken place. I've seen workers mocked and criticized publicly for asking for a fair wage, then mocked and criticized publicly for receiving benefits to fill in the gaps, and finally mocked and criticized publicly for getting tired of the system, taking the ball and going home. We tell them to pull themselves up by the bootstraps, when these fellows don't have any boots.

I can't shut up when I see these things. I can't shut up when I see families agonizing as the roof over their head drains down on them with no long term answer to the problem. Or when health issues are too long neglected because the social stigma of being on Medicaid is so strong that you don't dare to walk into the small community hospital where HIPAA is nonexistent. God forbid you're on the poorer side of things in America; if you are, in many folks' eyes, you are simply a parasite.

I am tired of hoping when hope is futile; tired of investing in a future that never will come. Tired of the monthly reminder of a future I naively invested in believing this was that critical last ingredient to put me over the top, only to see less qualified candidates selected to do the job I worked for because they either don't like my politics, or they don't like the pay scale that should accompany those qualifications.

I'm tired of spending my life on a treadmill with no clear path to escape.

And if that offends you, then maybe we need to go different directions. Because God knows I've been criticized enough already!