Anarchist Reverend

theology, bodies, and more

Radical Living: Money

November 28th, 2012

I find it really difficult to talk about money. For me it brings up all sorts of issues: fear, guilt, shame. When I think about money, I often have a tightness in my chest and I feel like I need to change the subject. So let me be honest up front: I am not always great with money. I sometimes buy things I don’t need. I don’t give away as much as I should. I don’t spend my money as ethically as I want to. I also have a lot of debt. It’s almost exclusively student loan debt. I went to a very expensive seminary because I knew I would need that school to open doors for me. Unfortunately I didn’t really understand student loans and took more out than I should have. I’m not sure how I will ever pay them back.

Why share all of this? Because when I think about what it means to live radically, so much revolves around money. It revolves around how much you spend (or don’t spend) and where you spend it. It revolves around how much you are invested in the system or not. I wish that weren’t the case, but it is. I am envious of folks who can raise the money (and get away from work) to go on Christian Peacemaker Teams, or the folks that are able to figure out how to buy a house and turn their yard into a garden. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to do those things (even though they are things that I value). So often when I read books about New Monasticism, there is never any conversation about how one gets the money to buy a community house. I want us to be able to have those conversations, to be able to talk about the ways that money affects the work that we are able to do.

Sometimes I think about what I feel called to do: I feel called to church planting, to running Camp Osiris, to trying to be more like Jesus. But I also have bills to pay and student loans to attempt to pay. How in the world can I do what I’m called to do? Sometimes I worry that I won’t have enough money for bus fare to get to work and back, or that I won’t have enough money for food. And some weeks I buy too many books because I just want to do something that brings a bit of joy.

I don’t like thinking that my worth is tied up in money. I want to believe that money means nothing, that it’s just paper. But then I feel so guilty when I get a phone call saying I am late on a student loan payment. Or I feel really bad that I bought the cheap vegetables instead of the organic ones, but I only had so much money to buy all of my food for the week.

I don’t have any easy answers here, but I think we need to start removing the shame around money. I have loved the work of the Strike Debt campaign which purchases medical debt for pennies on the dollar and then abolishes it. I think important conversations need to be had about the cost of seminary education (or about ordination without a master of divinity). I know, for me, I’m not planning on getting paid for church planting which means I’ll need to be bi-vocational. I am okay with that, but it does mean that money is more difficult (and my time is more crunched). It’s one of the reasons I am crowdfunding for start up costs: I don’t want us, as a new church, to be spending our money on things like church supplies. Instead I want to see us giving back to our community. But I can’t afford to buy church supplies out of pocket and so I look for people who believe in the work we’re doing.

I also want churches to be having hard conversations about how they are spending money. When I see some budgets I am shocked at what they are spending money on (especially when their clergy are either suffering to make ends meet or dealing with terrible health insurance situations).

Our relationship with money needs to change. We need to figure out ways to free ourselves from tying our worth with our wealth. Maybe that’s the first step we take toward living radically around money.

Can you chip in to support House of the Transfiguration? It’s a new, radical, Old Catholic community starting in Minneapolis.

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Investment

November 14th, 2012

I have been thinking a lot about investing lately. What do we invest in and why? What is it that causes us to be people who invest in things?

There are certain groups and types of people that invest really well. They see the potential in a project and they do all they can to make sure that project succeeds, even if it happens to be in the same field as the one they work in. Now when we talk about investing we usually think about money, but that is not the only way that we can invest. We can invest our time, our energy, and our expertise.

So many churches and organizations don’t invest well. They get so concerned about survival that all of their focus gets turned inward. What about our programs? What about what we can do? The truth is that evangelical churches are pretty amazing at investing in new church starts. Churches (even new churches) often make a point to give money to new church planters. They give of their time and their knowledge to equip new pastors, they sometimes even give permission for church planters to recruit a core group out of the existing church. These are people who get that by investing in others more good can happen. They aren’t selfish with their resources. I have never seen that kind of support in the mainline/liberal/progressive church. I hope that I’m wrong and that it does exist, but I have honestly never seen it. What does this say about us and our culture?

I went to a workshop yesterday afternoon called “The Habit of Asking”. It was a workshop about giving people the opportunity to be generous and to invest in the things that you are passionate about. It was a really great workshop, but what was even more powerful was how much I felt invested in by the people who ran it. They didn’t give me money, but they listened to the vision, they helped me think of ways to share the vision better, and then they told me they wanted me to succeed. I left that place feeling affirmed. I felt like is a group of people who wants to see new church starts and creative non-profits succeed. They are invested in people doing creative work in new ways.

When I think about the people in my life who are the most generous, I think not only about money but also about time and expertise. I think about the people who are willing to sit and brainstorm with me, the ones who will critique the business plan, and help to frame the vision.

And when people invest in me, I feel better about investing in others. I feel like I have been given gifts that I want to pass on. I feel like we’re all in this together and that there are people who have my back and so I can go out on a limb and have someone else’s back.

There is so much conversation about churches and organizations dying, about their not being enough money to fund everything. I think that’s bullshit. I think it’s that we’re not willing to invest in each other. We’re not willing to share our resources and our knowledge.

What happens when we invest in one another is that we help each other succeed. I know that House of the Transfiguration isn’t going to reach everyone. There are some people who don’t want that much ritual, they want something more contemporary and casual. Before I might have tried to change my vision to make them feel welcome, or I might have tried to get them to stay even though it wasn’t a good fit. But now I know that the people at Safehouse are doing something different. And because we have worked together I can refer people to them. We’re not in competition, we’re working together. We’re investing in each other and because of that investment we’re both more likely to succeed.

We need to stop operating from a model of scarcity. There is enough to go around if we would all be more willing to share. Instead of being worried about your our churches dying, let’s figure out how we can better invest in one another so that we can all succeed.

What project or person can you invest in today? Can you give a new organization you really believe in some money? Is there a skill or area of expertise that you can share? Can you connect someone to someone else that can help them? Where can you invest?

Can you chip in to support House of the Transfiguration? It’s a new, radical, Old Catholic community starting in Minneapolis.

Want posts by email and occasional extras, including my new ebook “A Guide To Recovering From Fundamentalism”?

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Rituals for Resistance: Prayer

November 9th, 2012

Lately I’ve been talking a bit about rethinking rituals of the church so they can be used to bolster resistance. The ritual I want to talk about today is prayer.

I have always had a complicated relationship with prayer. As a kid I felt like I didn’t pray enough, or that I prayed for the wrong things. I was often afraid to pray because I had a picture of God as kind of a bully and what if God was mad at me? Or what if God wanted me to give something up? I remember as a small child praying one night that my Grandmother (who was dying of cancer) wouldn’t die that night. And then she died. I thought that if I hadn’t prayed such a selfish prayer maybe she would still be alive. I was terrified that God would punish people I loved for my mistakes.

And then when I stopped believing in that bully God I didn’t really see the point of prayer. I no longer believed that God would help me to find a parking spot if only I prayed hard enough (even though in times of stress I still found myself praying out of desperation). But I also had no idea why I still prayed. If God wasn’t there to simply give me things, why should I bother praying? What good would it do? What was the point of wasting that time praying for things that wouldn’t be granted?

I am now in a tradition that has a long history of prayer and have begun to pray more regularly (although I still feel like it isn’t often enough). I use the Benedictine breviary. And recently I prayed the rosary for the first time and found it incredibly moving. And sometimes I still pray as if I were simply having a conversation with God, talking about my stress and asking for direction, asking for healing for people I love, and asking that God would make me more like Jesus.

I also believe that prayer is more than just words. Prayer can be sitting silently in meditation, it can be the work of our hands as we feed people and the community that happens when we work together to build a better world.

But how is prayer resistance?

I have long believed in action fueled by contemplation; that in order to do the hard work of changing the world for the better we also need to have a deep spiritual center. In this way, prayer is resistance. It is the fuel that keeps us from burning out as we work. It is the language that binds us together in community.

It is also the connection with generations who have gone before. When we prayer the prayers from the breviary or pray the rosary we know we are saying the same words that people over centuries have said. We are connected to their prayers and to their lives. When Catholics pray the rosary on the steps of the Cathedral as a protest to injustice they are also connected to all of the other people who have fought injustice.

I do believe that prayer changes things. Even if the only thing that is changed is the person praying. If prayer helps me to be a more centered, kind, calm, and peaceful person and I bring that into the world the ripples can be unending.

But I also believe that praying connects us and that in our connection we are stronger.

These rituals matter. They bolster our courage, they help us to know that we are not alone, and they strengthen us. They encourage our resistance and our resistance can change the world.

Can you chip in to support House of the Transfiguration? It’s a new, radical, Old Catholic community starting in Minneapolis.

Want posts by email and occasional extras, including my new ebook “A Guide To Recovering From Fundamentalism”?

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Radical Living: Cooperation

November 7th, 2012

Yesterday I was walking to the grocery store and a woman starting talking to me. As an introvert I normally don’t engage when that happens. I smile, nod politely, and then try to go about my business. But today I listened. She was talking about the election, about people going to vote. She didn’t tell me how she voted, nor did she ask me how I voted. But what she did say has stuck with me. She told me that she was from Liberia and that her country had had an awful civil war. She said that even though the war had been over for years still there was so much that was fixed. And then she said, “We have to work together. No matter what happens we have to work together. Nothing can get done alone.”

We have to work together. No matter what, we have to work together. When I think about radical living I think about cooperation. I think about sharing our knowledge with one another, lending a hand when it’s needed, and sharing our possessions. I think about all of us being so concerned with one another that we will live with less so that someone else has enough. I think about all of us chipping in to make sure that each person has what they need.

When I think about the Kingdom of God, I picture it as a neighborhood where everyone looks out for each other. Where people share in the work and share in the reward. It’s a small enough community so that everyone can be known, so that problems can be dealt with. And in that community we work together. Because we know that our well being depends on working together. Because we know that if one person doesn’t have enough then all of our lives are diminished.

This isn’t some utopian ideal, it’s a picture of people with hands dirty working side by side. It’s a picture of disagreements that get heated but where no one walks away because we realize that we need each other, and that even if we disagree we love each other.

It’s funny, these chance encounters that leave phrases running through my mind for years. I think also of when I was working at Borders bookstore and an older gentleman leaned across the counter and whispered, “We need a revolution.” These phrases are gifts.

We need a revolution. And we need to work together.

Can you chip in to support House of the Transfiguration? It’s a new, radical, Old Catholic community starting in Minneapolis.

Want posts by email and occasional extras, including my new ebook “A Guide To Recovering From Fundamentalism”?

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Peacemaking At Home

October 22nd, 2012

Lately I’ve read a couple of books about the Christian Peacemaker Teams and about Archbishop Elias Chacour, a Melkhite Catholic priest who is a Palestinian Christian and an Israeli citizen. Chacour is working to bring peace by educating Jews, Muslims, Druze, and Christians together in one school. I’ve also been teaching through the book of Mark and been once again reminded of the power of nonviolent resistance.

As I talk over these issues with high schoolers (and think through them on my own), I realize it’s a lot easier to figure out what that looks like in some other community. We have the luxury of distance from the issues. It makes sense for Abuna Chacour to build schools and educate children, it makes sense for the CPT teams to stand in the way of soldiers with guns in the West Bank.

But the work of peacemaking is for all of us. It’s been a challenge to me to think through the ways I can work for peace in my own city. What does working for peace look like in Minneapolis? Where are the situations that need Christians to “get in the way” of violence (the CPT motto)? What am I doing at home?

It’s easier for me to think about going on a CPT delegation than it is for me to think about standing up for peace at home. I’m realizing, though, that for peacemaking to work it requires that we all be peacemakers where we are.

I have realized that I have kept a bit of a distance from Minneapolis for a lot of reasons. I wasn’t sure I was going to stay here, I was working too many hours to really explore, I don’t have a way to get around very easily, etc. But if I am serious about being a follower of Jesus, I need to get more involved in my city. I don’t know what that’s going to look like yet, but I do know that it needs to happen. And part of that work is also rooting out the violence that I know is in my own heart.

Where and how are you working for peace in your community? Where is there a need for you to get in the way?

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Radical Living?

October 17th, 2012

In my thinking I am a radical, but in my living I often fall far short of my own values and ideals. I’ve been teaching through the Gospel of Mark this fall and find myself being convicted regularly. What does it mean to be a follower of Jesus in the United States?

I struggle with feeling like there isn’t enough I can do. I worry about having enough money to eat or to pay my rent and still feel like I should be giving more money away. I feel like I should be living communally even though even the idea of that exhausts me. I want to buy fair trade food and organic stuff but that stuff is also more expensive (and a longer bus ride away).

So what can I do? And are these things simply the excuses I use to keep myself from doing what I should be doing? What does it mean to live from a sense of “enough” instead of scarcity? How can I share my resources more effectively? How do I navigate my own privilege?

I want to spend some time thinking out loud about these struggles. Being honest about where I struggle and where I fall short. Brainstorm with other people who are trying to live as radical disciples of Jesus in the midst of empire and privilege. I’m hoping that by being open about all of these things I can start a conversation about what following Jesus really means. I’m hoping that we can share ideas and suggestions and guiding questions.

I hope that this can be a safe space for people at all stages of discipleship to share their struggles and what they are trying to do. I’ll probably put up some themes (food, money, clothing, etc.) as we go, areas where I am trying to discern a new way forward. If you have themes you want to explore, please add them in the comments or send me an email.

Let’s encourage one another to follow Jesus more closely and to live lives that are more just and that help to expose and overturn empire wherever it is found.

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Ask the AR: Nonviolence Vs. Inaction

October 1st, 2012

Ask the Anarchist Reverend is a weekly feature here on the site. If you have a question you’d like to ask, you can send me an email (anarchistreverend at gmail), find me on twitter, or submit your question using formspring. The queue is getting a little low, so if you’ve got a question it’d be great if you could submit it soon!

If you want to read past questions and answers, you can check them out here.

I was wondering if you could flesh out some of the things we were tweeting about the other day re: pacifism, violence, etc. I know you’ve written on property destruction in the past (as nonviolent activism), but I was wondering if you could detail some of your ideas on the violence/force distinction specifically vis a vis the christian anarchist tradition of nonviolence.

The other week Luke (the asker of this question) bemoaned the fact that every conversation he had on the subject of pacifism/nonviolence always got the same response: Are you telling me you would still be a pacifist if your partner was being raped? OR If you had the chance to take out Hitler? Several other people (including myself) shared that we had had the same conversations with people.

As a start to answering this question I want to point folks to a series I did about a year ago on nonviolence. I covered a bunch of different topics (including the one Luke mentioned above about property destruction).

But I also have a bit more to say, especially about the point brought up in today’s question: the line between violence and doing nothing. People seem to think that being non-violent or a pacifist means standing idly by while people are brutalized. I think this points to two oversights:

Nonviolence is a lifestyle and not something that happens “in the moment”. Hitler didn’t rise to power overnight. There wasn’t one moment where he had no power and one moment where he became untouchable. Nonviolence as a strategy isn’t something that happens overnight either. It’s a consistent lifestyle of resistance to violence. It’s both the rooting out of violent thoughts and behaviours in your own life and standing up to violence wherever it occurs in the world. So in the case of Hitler (which, honestly, come on now is that your best rhetorical strategy?) it would have taken a large scale strategy of nonviolent resistance over a long period of time. There were folks who were involved in such things: Sophie Scholl and the White Rose Resistance Movement to name one.

I think Walter Wink’s “Nonviolence As A Third Way” is really helpful to fleshing out nonviolence in the Gospels and bringing to light the idea of active non-violence as a kind of street theatre.

The other oversight is seen in the question of standing by and watching while someone you love gets attacked. Nonviolence in this situation isn’t to stand by and do nothing, rather it’s to put yourself in the way of violence without acting in violence. Think standing in between the person doing the attacking and the person being attacked. It’s all about getting in the way of violence when it happens and being willing to absorb the violence in your own person in order to save someone else/allow them to get away. Not fighting back could manage to deescalate the situation. Nonviolence is a lifestyle that should be so ingrained that you aren’t making choices in the moment. Instead you have a strategy for dealing with a situation.

I should say here that nonviolence is a choice that one needs to make for themselves. I would never tell someone being attacked that they shouldn’t fight back or that someone shouldn’t defend their child. In some cases one might choose violence determining it to be the lesser of two evils even as they recognize that violence is always something to try to avoid.

I’d love to keep this conversation going: What strategies are people using to be nonviolent in their daily lives? How do you root out violent behaviours and attitudes even in situations where violence isn’t happening? What is your response when someone brings up Hitler?

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Ask the AR: Practical Christian Anarchy

September 17th, 2012

What does (or can) Christian anarchism look like in a practical, daily sort of way? I can imagine a theoretical future Christian anarchist uptopia but I’m not sure how I might begin to live into that reality now in a way that is also sustainable and helps move us toward that future goal.

I really love this question! It was challenging to write this because I realize all of the ways that I don’t live up to my own ideals. This journey of being a Christian anarchist is never complete. I am always in process, always learning (failing) trying to be and do better. But that challenge is a healthy one. It reminds me of the areas I can work on. For me, I think about practical Christian anarchy in two ways: Where are the places you can drop out? Where are the places you can rebuild?

Where are the places you can drop out? Where is resistance possible? I think about where are the ways I can show resistance to imperial living: I can refuse to say the pledge of allegiance or sing the National Anthem. I can spend my money in places that are committed to fair labor practices and sustainable goods (or better yet I can barter for things; trade labor, skillshare). You could have a yard (or larger) garden (or window boxes). You could make your own clothing, or only buy second hand. It’s all about not propping up the system that is broken. Get your money out of big banks if you can, buy local or direct from the source, etc. You could refuse to pay taxes, refuse to register to vote, or refuse to register for the draft. You could teach your children at home.

Where are the places you can rebuild? Christian anarchy is about living in the shadow of the Empire. How can we build communities that show another way is possible? I think the early Christian community was anarchist in nature. They all took care of one another. They adopted abandoned children, they cared for the sick and the elderly, they ate together and worshipped together. All of this was revolutionary. What if we formed ourselves into small enough communities where we could make sure that everyone was cared for? That those who were sick got what they needed, that everyone had enough to eat.

If we practiced these radical acts, I think we begin to show the world what is possible. We begin to help people rethink the ways they relate to one another. It definitely won’t be easy, but change never is.

Even more than behaviour, though, is freeing our minds to think in new ways. To dream together what is possible. To erase “But I just could never…” from our vocabularies. All of us who have any modicum of privilege are imbued with the mentality of the Empire. We have been taught that this is the way it is and this is the way it has to be. But it doesn’t have to be this way. We need to dream ourselves into a new reality. One where we are restored our humanity, where people have dignity, where we are all cared for.

The Empire doesn’t have the final word. We need to live into the reality of the Kingdom of God here and now because it is already here among us if only we could recognize it.

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Ask the AR: Catholicism and Christian Anarchy

September 10th, 2012

Today’s question: Can you be an anarchist Roman Catholic/Orthodox, or do anarchist politics relate strictly to non-hierarchical Protestantism?
Couple of caveats before we start: I am not (nor have I ever been) either Roman Catholic or Orthodox. So I answer with only a limited knowledge of how those structures work. I am, however, Old Catholic and so I know a little bit about the polity and structure.

In my mind there are a couple of levels to this question: can one be a Christian anarchist and a lay person in a hierarchical movement? And, can one be ordained in these organizations as a Christian anarchist?

I would say a tentative yes to both of those questions, although I think being ordained is a bit trickier.

The key thing about Christian anarchy, for me, is that one obeys and listens to the law of God and follows the way of Jesus over all others. So long as the instructions a person gets don’t go against the law of God, I don’t see much of an issue with being in a hierarchical structure, so long as that structure isn’t oppressive. I think one could make the case that the Roman Catholic church has become oppressive. There is, in my mind, also an issue with how money is spent. With the amount of money the Roman Catholic church (in the United States at least) is using to pay out money for sexual abuse cases (in order to keep them out of court often) and pouring into anti-gay marriage amendments there is a real problem.

As a lay person in the church I think you have to weigh what will be required of you by joining a church like the Roman Catholic or the Orthodox church. Do they require you to go against your conscience in order to keep the party line? Do they silence you? Do they prohibit you from leading in the way in which you are called? Does the way they operate/use money/preach go against the law of God?

One of the things I was concerned about in joining the North American Old Catholic church was the hierarchy. But the thing with the NAOCC is that there isn’t the massive amount of money, nor are there oppressive power structures. In my vows of obedience, I vowed obedience first to God and then to the Bishop. If I ever feel that I am being told by my Bishop something that contradicts God I will not hesitate to refuse to obey, and if need be, to leave the NAOCC.

With any structure we have to ask, what purpose does this serve? Is this being used to silence voices or to make sure voices get heard? Is this structure to make sure things get accomplished in a timely manner or to push through the leader’s own agenda? I think that structures can be good and useful. One can be a leader without being a tyrant. The struggle is that often when one becomes a leader the power goes to their head. That’s the real problem with hierarchy: human selfishness and lust for power.

I am hopeful that the NAOCC will avoid those traps; that we can keep one another humble and that our structure will lead not to oppression but to division of labor as best suits our talents and callings.

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Ask the AR: What is Christian Anarchy?

July 16th, 2012

Another installment of Ask the Anarchist Reverend:

First up a fun question: What is your favorite flavored waffle or pancake syrup?

I prefer the straight up maple syrup, although I think the cheap stuff I got at the grocery store is “buttered flavor” (which should probably scare me more than it does) and it is delicious.

Next up: What the hell is Christian Anarchism?

I’ve written a bit about this over the years on the blog. I wrote about why I call myself a Christian Anarchist and I’ve reviewed a couple of the seminal works on Christian Anarchy.

Here’s the short answer to this question: Christian Anarchy is both a spiritual and a political belief. Secular anarchy is the belief that no one should have power over another. It’s not a belief in chaos or destruction, but instead a belief in mutuality and community. In Christian Anarchist circles the thinking is that this commonality and mutuality can only come by following God.

Now, there is a lot to unpack here. And there is a lot that I don’t agree with in Christian Anarchist circles. For one, I have found many Christian Anarchists to not be supportive of queer folks and to not have a lot of self-reflection on race and gender. But just because people aren’t actually living out their ideals doesn’t make the whole system of belief invalid (see: Christianity as a whole).

For me Christian Anarchy is a belief that we should be taking care of one another outside of government structures. That the way forward means setting up new communities in the shadow of the empire. It means always resisting ideology that is imperial in nature, and in fact standing in the way of empire (even if that means getting run over). It’s about accepting our responsibility for one another instead of pushing it off onto other avenues. It means following in the way and example of Jesus, not as an abstract saviour from our sins, but in a concrete lover of the marginalized and agitator of the empire.

This is all messy and maybe utopian, but it’s what I am striving for. Not always successfully, but hopefully always striving.

For those interested in reading more, my friend Mark Van Steenwyk has a new pamphlet out called That Holy Anarchist: Reflections on Christianity & Anarchism (link goes to my affiliate page) I haven’t read it quite yet, but I know and trust Mark and know that he writes wonderful things.

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