Category: General

Tonight (June 26, 2021), LGBTQ+ Rolla is hosting our town’s first Pride event, a picnic at Schuman Park lower pavilion (6-8 pm). This has been in the works for a while. There is no agenda besides music and hanging out, but people may have the opportunity to tell their story. I thought I’d share something here as I gather my thoughts.

My path to tonight’s event started about eight years ago. Susan Murray, an elder at my church who is lesbian, wanted to do something for the LGBT community on campus. She enlisted me to spearhead it. That effort didn’t go very far but it started me on this path.

Apparently, God was getting me ready, because a year or so later, my daughter came out. That changed my perspective, but at least I was partially prepared. I had already educated myself on terms and concepts, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God loves her.

³⁸ For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, ³⁹ nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:38-39

Time passed. I got just a glimpse of the barriers that someone queer in small-town Missouri faces. Beyond reading books and articles, I talked with other queer individuals in an attempt to understand their perspective.

Ultimately, I concluded that what Rolla needs is a focal point, a place where someone who doesn’t fit society’s expectations about sexual orientation, gender identity, or gender expression can find someone else who is fighting the same stereotypes. As a straight, cisgender, white man, I will NEVER understand their challenges, and hope that I do not project an attitude that I’m some sort of savior for the queer community. However, I am driven to do whatever I can to help out.

Last summer, things started moving in the right direction. I connected with Onyx Russ, who is now the president of LGBTQ+ Rolla, and a few others with similar interests. We were moving towards a big event in October, but that just couldn’t happen. We fell back on Zoom gatherings and built a little momentum, so now we’re ready for a Pride event.

I hope this isn’t the end, but the beginning. I hope that someday, I can fade further into the background as LGBTQ+ individuals have the time and energy to take more leadership roles. I hope that someday, we have an LGBTQ+ center in Rolla to combat the negative stereotypes promulgated by so many organizations and individuals, a place where someone who is struggling with acceptance can come and be themselves. But for now, I just hope that we have a peaceful, joyful gathering where everyone can enjoy being who they are.

For more than a decade, I have been involved with the organizing committee of the IEEE Applied Power Electronics Conference. I was general chair in 2017. We typically have around 5000 attendees; perhaps 1500 are paid attendees and the remainder attend the free exposition that has upwards of 200 companies exhibiting. Being general chair was one of the high points of my career and my life. The peak was the social event. It was held in a city park and had a wide variety of activities, from a dance floor to giant chess to cornhole to hand-rolled cigars. Engineers aren’t known as partiers, but the cops had to come at the end to tell us it was time to go.

APEC was pretty good in 2018 and 2019, too. Then 2020 came. APEC is held in March; we had to cancel the in-person event about a week before the conference. Dealing with the ensuing mess took months. In the midst of the aftermath, Conor Quinn, the general chair for 2021, asked if I would look into virtual and hybrid aspects “just in case.” Last summer, it was all very hypothetical. Surely, we thought, we will be able to hold an in-person event in 2021. Ha!

We postponed from the original March date to June, but we still had to pivot to virtual. Although the local conditions at the original conference site (Phoenix) were OK, APEC draws an international audience; when we had to make the decision, there was NO WAY we would get international attendees.

Well, the virtual conference just ended. On the one hand, it was a pale shadow of a “real” APEC. On the other hand, it far exceeded my expectations. We had good paid and free registration, good attendance at the live/Zoom events, and good engagement on the conference platform (Social27). Many people said it was the best virtual conference they had attended.

What makes APEC so wonderful every year is the people. Yes, I come away every year with pages of notes that have new ideas to pursue, new products to consider, etc. But really, what I value is engaging with “my people.” APEC draws a unique blend of academics and industry practitioners that gives it a different flavor than most conferences in my field. I had a chance to reconnect with a colleague who worked at Baldor with me 20 years ago. In the somewhat informal technical sessions, I was able to interact with people I only see once a year, renewing our relationships that are built on both mutual respect and a shared worldview.

The organizing committee and steering committee (on both of which I serve) are composed of people with both academic and industry roots and a shared love for APEC. While the conference sponsors are concerned primarily about the financial impact of our decisions, the committee is concerned first and foremost with the choices that will keep APEC the amazing experience it is. We recognize that maintaining the quality of the technical program, the exposition, and all of the other activities, along with opportunities for researchers and practitioners to create and nurture relationships, is essential to the long-term health of the conference.

I think there’s a message in that for all organizations, whether a business, a university, or a church. An organization needs people in leadership whose highest priority is the health of the organization, not their own glory. Leaders need to value both the programs and the people. If you have bad programs, you might as well close up shop; if you do not develop deep relationships between people, the programs will never be enough to keep people engaged.

I have seen that process at Missouri S&T. Some people develop deep ties with the community and across campus, like I have. They tend to be lifers. Every university goes through down cycles; we had a time a few years ago when practically all of the campus administrators were interim appointments. The people who stayed were those who valued the network of relationships they had developed. On the other hand, some faculty come, build a research program in their own lab, and do not seriously engage with other faculty. They use their time here to strengthen their resume, and then they move on. The task before each leader is to figure out how to encourage these rising stars to develop networks across campus so that (a) they contribute more to the campus mission and (b) they realize the value in staying.

Zoom is a wonderful technology. It enables meetings that otherwise cannot occur, whether due to social distancing requirements, travel restrictions, or limited time. Zoom meetings are sufficient for sustaining progress on projects and maintaining existing relationships. But Zoom is terrible for developing new relationships, personal or professional. It is my hope that as we emerge from pandemic conditions, I remember, and we all remember, how important it is to forge new relationships. In this way, we build a society that is truly a community, not just a collection of individuals.

Over the past week, I have been blessed with opportunities to talk with old friends and new. Last weekend, I attended my wife’s nephew’s wedding. I’m not normally a big fan of wedding receptions—too noisy, too crowded, too much sitting around waiting for something to happen—but this time was different for some reason. I was really touched by both the wedding itself and the time I spent with my wife’s family, including its newest member. I was reminded how wonderful it is to spend your life with the person you love.

Families are strange things. They are a combination of people you chose—your spouse, your kids—and those that were not optional—your parents, cousins, in-laws, etc. At an event like a wedding, everyone is united in purpose: blessing the new couple’s life. Beyond that, there are some shared experiences and perspectives, and then some wildly different ones. Even if you disagree with or dislike each other, though, you are all bound together.

One good thing about a wedding is that it brings people together who maybe haven’t seen each other in a while. That is especially true now, after more than a year of pandemic-related separation. There were people at the wedding that I would normally see at Thanksgiving, Christmas, or deer season, but didn’t. It was great to re-connect.

I also had lunch twice with a dear friend of mine, once just the two of us and once to introduce me to one of his friends. He is someone I trust and respect immensely. He is a colleague from campus, so he can help me navigate the complex life of an academic. As I told him, I am transitioning now from being a highly-accomplished junior faculty member to one of the least accomplished senior faculty members, so I’m trying to figure out what’s next in my career. More importantly, though, I treasure his spiritual counseling.

Like a family member, he and I don’t always agree with each other. However, we both have Christ as our centers. We are both also humble enough to acknowledge that we may be wrong. We’re just trying to figure things out, and as academics, we recognize that learning happens over time. If you meet someone who is 100% confident that they know exactly what God wants for them (and for you), what God’s nature is, and what the Bible means, RUN. That path leads to a cult, not to God.

We are all on different paths. I believe that all of us are on a path that ultimately leads to God. We cannot get there on this side of death, and many people need some time on the far side of death to fully accept the grace that God has given us through Christ. And yet, all of us can approach the kingdom of God.

¹⁴ Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, ¹⁵ and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”

Mark 1:14-15

Jesus preached that the kingdom of God is at hand, so we can access it now. Those two lunches I had—that was a glimpse of the kingdom of God. The wedding and reception—that was a glimpse.

What does it mean to repent? There are many opinions; here’s mine. To fully enter the kingdom of God, a person must be 100% aligned with God’s will. We must love one another as God does, as Jesus demonstrated. That is impossible for us on our own, but possible if we allow God to change us and guide us. We can never reach 100%, but repentance is a turning towards God’s will, aligning some small part of ourselves with God’s love. We all take different paths, determined by our life experiences. I may be “ahead” of you in some aspects and “behind” you in others. When we encounter each other with an openness, a vulnerability, a willingness to be changed, we can each turn a portion of ourselves towards God.

I have often heard it said that a prophet’s role is to “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” Both tasks are necessary to encourage everyone to reach their full potential as a child of God. People who are hurting are people who God loves, and so should I. People who accept the way that the world is, because it serves them well, need to see the pain, the grief, the poverty, and the struggles of their fellow travelers, to know that the whole creation is groaning in labor pains, yearning for the fulfillment of God’s kingdom. May God bless you with comfort where you are hurting and remove from me the blindness I have to the needs of this world.

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Program note: I am the secretary of LGBTQ+ Rolla. We are hosting Rolla Pride on June 26, 6-8 pm, in Schuman Lower Pavilion. Hope you can join us!

When I run, I listen to audiobooks. Recently, for the third time, I listened to The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything, by Father James Martin, SJ. The basic principle is that the Ignatian way, that is, the path laid out by Ignatius Loyola for the Society of Jesus, is useful for everyone who seeks a deeper spiritual life. The book covers a wide range of topics, including a few chapters on the basic vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience.

Loyola’s original writings in the 16^th century give chastity short shrift, but Martin brings a modern perspective on relationships to bear on this concept. He goes beyond the simplistic mapping of chastity to celibacy. Instead, he talks about chaste love as the root of almost all relationships, such as friendship.

Chaste love is a love without possession. It is a recognition that you and the other person have a connection, but it is not exclusive and not controlling. As I read Martin’s insights on friendship, I recognized some mistakes I have made in the past. Every relationship needs balance; there have certainly been times when I have asked more of my friends than was reasonable. I have been a taker more than a giver. I have ignored my friends’ other commitments, relationships, interests, and desires, prioritizing my own needs instead. I would like to think that I’m a better friend now than I have been in the past, partly due to improved mental and spiritual health, but it is always a work in progress.

God has a way of speaking to me through books and life experiences, in ways that are not so obvious at the time. As I listened to this section of the book, I figured it was God’s way of gently chiding me for my past deficiencies and encouraging me on a path to better, healthier friendships.

Then a close friend told me she was moving away. I am still working towards accepting the reality of the situation. But the concept to which I’m clinging as hard as I can is love without possession. Friends must be free to grow and change. They must be free to live and to love as they are able, not as I would want them to. God places a claim on each person’s life; that claim is higher than any claim I might make.

Francis Xavier was one of the founders of the Society of Jesus. He and Loyola were extremely close friends. Still, there came a time when they both recognized the need for Xavier to leave on a missionary journey to the Far East. Loyola, as the head of the order, had the authority to send Xavier or not, according to his discernment and will. He knew that if Xavier departed, they may never see each other again. Still, he knew that God’s claim on Xavier was higher than his own. Sadly, after Xavier departed, he never returned, dying on an island near China and being buried in India.

I’m sure that Loyola had regrets. I’m sure that he missed his friend. Still, he allowed Xavier to follow his calling, to live and grow as he thought best. In the same way, I need to accept the call God has placed on my friend and allow her to follow it confidently.

Life is full of these separations. Both of my kids are in college now; it’s only a matter of time before they establish their own independent lives. Some of my colleagues on campus are essentially permanent Rolla residents, but many others have departed over the past decade or have shown that they are likely to leave in the near future. (In fact, this is the time of year when I expect to hear about resignations and retirements.) Each person that leaves takes a little part of me with them, I hope, and leaves a little part of themselves behind with me. I pray that I can accept what I cannot change, living in the confidence that one day, we will all be gathered together in God’s eternal kingdom.

My clothes dryer has an adaptive cycle in which it extends the drying time until the clothes are actually dry, I guess based on humidity. It may tell you that there are 15 minutes remaining, then run for another 45 minutes. My kids were discussing this the other night, and said as aggravating as it is, at least then the clothes come out dry. In the dryers in their dorms, when the money runs out, the dryer stops. If the clothes aren’t dry, you either need to suffer wet clothes or pay for a whole additional cycle; you can’t just add a few minutes. My kids suggested that I start charging them $3.50 to do their laundry to make it feel like they’re still at college.

That sort of thing is what motivated the Rolla Mission to get started. There are only a few laundromats in Rolla, and they are expensive. The Vineyard had space, so they installed some washers and dryers and offered free laundry to whoever needed it.

Fast forward several years. Ashley Brooks gave a talk at a volunteer roundtable this week where she talked us through “a day in the life” of one of their patrons. Some people come by the Mission because they are poor, but many because they are poor and homeless. They are all working towards a better life, whether through some self-improvement project (e.g., counseling) or by saving money towards a place to live. Over time, the Mission’s services have expanded far beyond laundry, and all because of love.

What’s the point in having clean clothes and a dirty body? So they offered free showers. (I may have the sequencing a little wrong here, but the story arc is basically right.) People would come in hungry, so the Mission gave them snacks, and then meals. But every night, the building would close. One winter, the leadership couldn’t bear the thought of the patrons they loved sleeping out in the cold, so they started offering overnight shelter.

But ultimately, the Mission is not in a position to offer everything that a homeless person might need, including a place to live. Many homeless individuals have health issues (physical or mental), addictions, and so forth. They need a job so they can earn money so they can afford to pay rent. They may not have the documents they need, like a Social Security card.

But Ashley and the others involved with running the Mission have seen these needs and responded in love. They connect people with the services they need from dozens of other agencies in town. They help people navigate the complex bureaucracy that has been set up to prevent fraud and abuse but has the side effect of preventing adequate services to those in need.

Of course, the Mission can’t help everyone. They help people in our community and expect other communities to take care of their own people’s needs. Some people have needs beyond the Mission’s expertise or would put others at risk; I was volunteering one day when a state trooper brought in someone who was on drugs, and staff directed them to the hospital instead. Some people do not respond lovingly to the love they are given and have been banned for the good of other patrons.

But at the foundation of it all is love. The Vineyard didn’t set out to build a homeless shelter with a wide range of services; they just saw a need, filled it, and loved whoever showed up. That’s why I volunteer at the Mission: to learn how to love in actions and not simply in words.

¹⁶ We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. ¹⁷ How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? ¹⁸ Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.

1 John 3:16-18

As I’ve previously mentioned, I have been working towards a certificate that would enable me to become a commissioned ruling elder (CRE). I finished my last class this semester and was awarded a Certificate in Congregational Leadership from the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary. The big question is, what comes next? I am not unique in wondering about the future. This is a season of commencements, which celebrate the end of an academic program but are titled to remind us that the end of one chapter of life is really the beginning of the next.

Some academic programs are pretty specific. My nephew, Lance Workman, just received his MD. His next step is a family medicine residency at Mizzou. After that, the obvious career is to be a physician in a family practice. Other programs are less career-centric. For example, Southern New Hampshire University has a degree program in “general studies.” I have no idea what specific career a student would pursue after receiving that degree. I would say that divinity programs, particularly an M.Div. but also the certificate that I received, fall somewhere in-between. The natural next step is to take a call as a pastor of a congregation. But there are other paths.

My last course was Preaching, in which I learned a process that leads from a Bible passage to a sermon. More than that, Fr. Goodrich taught us a maxim:

Know the story. Live the story. Craft the story. Tell the story.

Father Kevin Goodrich

This is truly the calling of all Christians. Some people are designated preachers, but we are all supposed to share the good news that the kingdom of God is at hand. We are all supposed to encounter Jesus, and be witnesses of His work in the world.

¹⁸ And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. ¹⁹ Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, ²⁰ and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Matthew 28:18-20

I’m not sure what my future holds. Maybe I will pour my energy into my home congregation, First Presbyterian Church of Rolla, and its existing ministries. Maybe I will start a new ministry within or alongside my home congregation. I’ve been told that if I want to do pulpit supply, there is tremendous need throughout Missouri; many churches have been closed during the pandemic, but are now re-opening. Some of those churches that rely on pulpit supply would be well-served by an installed pastor, for which I am technically qualified. Maybe I will continue to work on building up LGBTQ+ Rolla. Maybe I will blog more regularly.

My short-term plan is to fill pulpits when opportunities come along, and to use the sermon preparation process that I learned as a spiritual practice. My goal of this practice is to shift from gathering spiritual information, to pursuing spiritual formation. Rather than pouring more knowledge into my brain, I will seek to transform myself more and more into the person God wants me to be. I know that this is possible with God’s help. I pray that you—all of you who read this—will similarly be transformed into the person God wants you to be, and that we will each walk the path God lays out before us.

I would not call today’s verdict justice, however, because justice implies true restoration, but it is accountability, which is the first step towards justice. And now the cause of justice is in your hands, and when I say, “your hands,” I mean the hands of the people of the United States.

Keith Ellison, Minnesota attorney general, speaking after the verdict in Derek Chauvin’s trial

“No justice, no peace.” This cry rings out at protests over the deaths of Black men, women, and even children at the hands of police officers. Stated this way, “justice” becomes shorthand for punishment or retribution against perpetrators of violence. Back in 1967, Martin Luther King, Jr., said more eloquently and completely, “There can be no justice without peace. And there can be no peace without justice.” King realized that justice and peace are inextricable.

But what is justice? Leviticus 24:19-20 encapsulates the ancient view: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life. Ellison’s statement recognizes that there cannot be justice without restoration and reconciliation. True justice heals our wounds.

Several years ago, I heard a talk by F. W. de Klerk, the transitional leader of South Africa at the end of apartheid. He made the case that a community or nation that has experienced strife needs both truth and reconciliation. The American justice system is reasonably good at revealing truth, although there are racial and economic divides. Similarly, our justice system does a reasonable job at retribution and, occasionally, rehabilitation, again with racial and economic divides. Yet we, as a nation, have not really embraced reconciliation as a goal. For the person who has been wronged, restoration and the end of their suffering is a necessary precondition. People who are in pain can only cry out for retribution, to share their pain. Consider the ancient Israelites who had been exiled by Babylon:

⁸ O daughter Babylon, you devastator!
    Happy shall they be who pay you back
    what you have done to us!
⁹ Happy shall they be who take your little ones
    and dash them against the rock!

Psalm 137:8-9

Not a verse that is preached very often! But it is a true statement of grief and anger. The people were hurting. Their land and their nationhood had been taken away. Their holy temple had been destroyed. In a similar way, Black communities across the nation still feel grief and anger over the centuries of oppression they have endured. Until they are restored to equality, how can they enter into full community with the rest of American society?

What would justice be like for Cubans in Florida? Some Cubans are recent immigrants, refugees escaping the poverty and oppression of their Communist government. Others fled Cuba during the revolution in 1953. These were wealthy Cubans whose property was stolen by the Communists, and who, like the Israelites, lost their land and their nationhood. Although individuals who experienced this catastrophe are a small fraction of modern-day Cuban-Americans, the memory runs deep in that community and continues to impact US-Cuba relations. At this point, restoring their property is meaningless. Cuba has changed; Cuban-Americans are much better off than the typical Cuban. Yet that loss is still real and painful.

Achieving true justice requires peace and reconciliation. But achieving reconciliation requires first an acknowledgment of wrongdoing and a willingness to restore what has been lost. If there is to be peace in America’s Black communities, there must first be repentance by the White power structures that perpetuate injustice, that have created wealth and educational attainment disparities, that treat Blacks as a problem to be eliminated instead of people who deserve equality.

Our lives are largely transactional. Obviously in the marketplace: I receive goods and services in exchange for money. In a more interpersonal way, all communities function in part as a gift economy, in which goods or services are given with the expectation that the receiver will give back someday. For example, one of my primary job functions is to write grant proposals, often in collaboration with other professors. If I am willing to help Prof. X with their proposal today, then perhaps Prof. X will help with mine next month or next year. Over time, we develop relationships that have grace and mutual understanding, but transactions undergird the relationships.

The church historically has translated worldly transactional relationships into the spiritual realm. For example, in some traditions, one must tithe (give one-tenth of one’s income) in order to be considered a full participant in the religious community. The Roman Catholic practice of confession, penance, and absolution is a fairly clear transaction: you tell the priest what you did, he tells you what you need to do, and then you are restored to full relationship with God. The evangelical understanding is surprisingly similar, except that it only happens once: you pray the sinner’s prayer, and you are restored to full relationship with God.

Recently I watched a surprisingly detailed video by Phil Vischer (of Veggie Tales fame) called, What is an “Evangelical”? If you haven’t watched it, I highly recommend it as a way to understand modern conservative Christianity. Vischer notes that most modern Christians are evangelical in the 18^th century sense, which is why the most liberal Lutheran denomination in America is the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA). The evangelical movement, dating to the Great Awakening, grew out of an interpretation of John 3:3:

³ Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.”

John 3:3

Being a Christian required a personal decision to follow Jesus, not simply being born into a Christian family. Logically, this led to the modern concept of the sinner’s prayer.

The Great Awakening, though, followed two centuries after the Reformation. John Calvin was the father of Reformed theology. This is a particular branch that emerged during the Reformation that, in the US, is primarily represented by Presbyterian denominations (including PC(USA), of which I am a member), Dutch Reformed denominations such as RCA, and German Reformed denominations including the United Church of Christ. In one of Calvin’s foundational writings (his Institutes of the Christian Religion), he taught that each worship service should begin with a corporate prayer of confession. That is, Calvin taught that the minister should pray on behalf of the whole assembly, asking forgiveness of the sins of the whole body, after which he should assure the congregation of God’s pardon through Jesus Christ.

In essence, Calvin’s argument was that we are not only personally sinful, but sinful as a group—as a community, as a nation, as a species. (I can’t quite get on board with his doctrine of total depravity, though.) It is important to make a conscious, hopefully-one-time decision to follow Jesus. It is important to regularly confess your own personal sin, and ask God’s forgiveness, confident in receiving forgiveness and reconciliation. But that is not sufficient.

²³ So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister^[a] has something against you, ²⁴ leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister,^[b] and then come and offer your gift. ²⁵ Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court^[c] with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison.

Matthew 5:23-25

God’s Law is about building God’s kingdom, both now and in the age to come. When I break that Law, I not only sin against God, but also sin against God’s children. So I need to ask forgiveness not only from God, but also from the person who has been wronged.

Calvin understood, though, that we are connected in a community, and what one person does affects all of us. So I need to seek forgiveness not only for my own sins, but also for the sinfulness of my community, my nation, my species.

For example, I have not personally killed anyone. However, I am part of a nation that deploys military around the world in ways that result in the deaths of the innocent. Whether or not the military actions are justified, we all should seek God’s forgiveness for our part in those deaths. But just as much, we need to seek forgiveness from the nations that we have ravaged, from the families who have lost loved ones, and so forth.

In the same way, I have not personally excommunicated anyone who is gay, nor have I defrocked a pastor who officiated a gay wedding. I have not supported ex-gay ministries or otherwise actively diminished the contributions of the LGBTQ community. I am a member of a welcoming congregation in a denomination that ordains gay pastors. And yet, I am the inheritor of a legacy of discrimination. As an individual, I seek forgiveness for the small part I have played in supporting all of these discriminatory actions. As a congregation, denomination, and religion, we all need to seek forgiveness from God and from those who have been hurt, directly and indirectly, by our actions over several decades.

As the sinner, I do not have the right to say, “Let’s just move on.” I—we—must ask the LGBTQ community to forgive the evil that has been done in Christ’s name, so that they can tell us they are willing to reconcile.

In the same way, I am the inheritor of the legacy of colonialism. I have not personally forced any Native Americans off their land, nor have I personally enslaved any Africans. That doesn’t change the fact that I benefit as a citizen of the nation that was built through these and other evil acts. Again, I, and we all, must ask these aggrieved communities for their forgiveness and allow them to take the lead in reconciliation.

“Christianity is just a bunch of rules.” This is a common refrain from people who have left the church or never joined. Perhaps they grew up in a church that had a legalistic mindset. Perhaps their parents used God as a threat to get them to behave. Perhaps they have never been to a church but are turned off by what they see in the media. Or, worst of all, perhaps they were cast out from a church because of their sexual orientation or gender identity. Fortunately, that has not been my experience, and I hope to be one small voice working to change people’s minds about what Christianity can be.

When I was young, I don’t recall having strict rules with consequences. Well, maybe a handful of times. For the most part, my parents simply set expectations, and periodically reminded us of them. I remember riding in the car with my parents in the front and siblings in the back seat with me. Things were starting to get a little wild, with us picking on each other. My mom reached back and snapped her fingers. There was no threat—ever, that I recall—just a reminder that we were expected to behave properly. If we did, then the car trip would go well. If not, it wouldn’t.

I’ve been reading through the Bible, trying to read the whole thing in a year. (March was a little rough, so I’ll have to circle back to some chapters.) The Pentateuch, and especially Numbers, is a lot like one of those car trips. The Israelites got hungry, so God had to give them food. They got thirsty, so God had to give them water. The Israelites started grumbling, so God had to remind them all of God’s sovereignty. For forty years, the Israelites kept misbehaving. Occasionally there were severe consequences. Mostly, though, God kept reminding them that if they would behave, good things would happen; if they would not behave, bad things would happen.

But through it all, God loved them. God and Moses both got angry and frustrated, sometimes with one another and often with the Israelites. But always, they reconciled.

Easter is a time when we remember the great reconciliation. For hundreds of years, the Israelites kept failing to live up to God’s expectations. God kept sending prophets to remind them, which would sometimes work for a little while, but never for long. They kept thinking that they needed to “do church” correctly: to follow all of the rules, to make the proper sacrifices, to separate themselves from the Gentiles, and so forth. They thought in doing so, they would earn God’s favor, in a transactional arrangement.

⁶ “With what shall I come before the Lord,
    and bow myself before God on high?
Shall I come before him with burnt offerings,
    with calves a year old?
⁷ Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams,
    with ten thousands of rivers of oil?
Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression,
    the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?”
⁸ He has told you, O mortal, what is good;
    and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
    and to walk humbly with your God?

Micah 6:6-8

God did not desire Israel’s sacrifices, any more than my parents wanted me to buy them gifts. God simply wanted Israel to live up to their potential, to meet God’s expectations.

God’s love is unconditional. We use the word “Father” to remind us that God is like the most perfect parent. Does a perfect parent throw their child out when they break some rule? No. A perfect parent is more like the father of the Prodigal Son: as soon as he saw his son approaching, the father ran out to meet him, to embrace him, to welcome him back. God doesn’t require a payment of any sort, but expects us to behave like the beautiful children we are. God expects us to love one another, to serve one another, to correct injustices, to comfort the afflicted, to free the prisoner. God desires not sacrifice, but love.

Christianity is not a book of rules. It is a loving relationship with the source of all existence. We cannot earn God’s love, no matter how hard we try, and we cannot earn God’s hate, no matter how hard we try. Let us strive to meet God’s expectations of us:

³¹ When he had gone out, Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. ³² If God has been glorified in him,^[a] God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once. ³³ Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, ‘Where I am going, you cannot come.’ ³⁴ I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. ³⁵ By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

John 13:31-35

I listen to audiobooks while I run, drive, and do other mindless tasks. I listened to two audiobooks recently that form a nice pair: Calling Bullshit, by Carl Bergstrom and Jevin West, and Talking to Strangers, by Malcolm Gladwell. Bergstrom & West are academics; Gladwell is a journalist but, in this book, draws pretty heavily on technical research.

Bullshit is language, statistical figures, data graphics, and other forms of presentation intended to persuade by impressing and overwhelming a reader or listener, with a blatant disregard for truth and logical coherence.

Definition by Bergstrom & West

Our brains have evolved to interpret the world in a certain way. Some people exploit our inability to correctly decipher information for amusement; others, for more nefarious purposes; still others fall for their own bullshit. For example, there are some students who will present graphs that purport to show some interesting phenomenon that they discovered. In reality, the phenomenon is just noise that looks interesting because they have zoomed way in. I mean, there isn’t really a difference between 0.9 and 0.899999, but if those are the only two points you have, you can draw a line and extrapolate a trend.

The most egregious cases relate to politics. Some people will take a survey or research result WAY out of context. Others simply make stuff up that has a certain truthiness. As I often say, 48.2% of statistics are made up on the spot.

Suppose I tell you that 447k global COVID cases were reported yesterday. Is that good or bad? Well, there are 7.8 billion people in the world, so that’s less than one case per 20,000 people. Put that way, it sounds OK. Or I could tell you that it’s less than 1/3 of the peak daily report. True, but that peak only happened on one day and appears to be a reporting artifact. Or I could tell you that it’s the same as we had on October 21. Or I could tell you that the cumulative case count is 113M. That’s 1.5% of the global population! All of these different ways of looking at the situation are objectively true, but posed differently.

So if you’re writing about the success of vaccines and asserting that we should get back to normal, you can note how far the case rate has fallen. If you’re writing about the danger COVID faces, you can note the cumulative case count—a number that can only increase. Humans are bad at contextualizing numbers, so maybe you provide a graphic—but again, different scales tell different stories. If you only show the case rate for 2021, you will tell a different story than if you include all of 2020. (You can play with these perspectives yourself on the Johns Hopkins Center for Systems Science and Engineering COVID-19 Dashboard.)

Why does bullshit deceive so many people? In Gladwell’s book, he describes truth-default theory. We are biased to assume people are telling the truth. Depending on the situation, it takes an almost overwhelming amount of evidence for you to think someone is deceiving you. A prime example Gladwell gives is Bernie Madoff. It took years for people to finally accept the possibility that he was a fraud. In retrospect, there were red flags all over the place, but nobody could conceive of someone being that big a fraud.

The only way we can make sense of a world awash in bullshit is to choose who to trust. Once you have chosen your sources, truth-default takes over. Usually, your chosen sources will be people who are similar to you: similar ethnicity, nationality, socioeconomic class, religious and/or political allegiance, and so forth. We set aside whatever defenses we have against outsiders and fully believe whatever an insider tells us. Thus we become susceptible to con artists, from Bernie Madoff to Jayson Blair to Steve Bannon.

One alternative is to trust nobody. Gladwell gives a couple of examples—an analyst who identified Madoff years before everyone else; police officers. But that’s no way to live. Without trust, our society breaks down. Without trust, we end up afraid of the world. Extreme cases end up recluses, unable to leave home because of their fears.

The other alternative is to trust in God. No human is fully honest—we are all sinners. Jesus is the way we can know God, and through God we can know the Truth.

⁶ Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. ⁷ If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.” … ¹⁵ “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. ¹⁶ And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. ¹⁷ This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you.

John 14, selected verses

We cannot know whether a person is being honest with us. All we can do is love one another, and trust that God will be with us. We may be deceived from time to time, but that is the price of love. I believe that if we send out love, we will receive love in return. Maybe the Madoffs of the world will take advantage of us, but we will still have abundant life, a life full of love.