NPH and the Nazarene General Board

I don't know what to say here, honestly. The Nazarene General Board is meeting next week. This is the governing body for my denomination. Leaders will come from literally all over the globe to give guidance to this crazy tribe called The Church of the Nazarene. One of the most important issues they'll have to face is how to deal with the sordid happenings at Nazarene Publishing House over the last year.

I've put a summary together of the history of this particularly difficult situation - you can read it here.*

NPH is back running again, much smaller than it was before and with a still tenuous future. They've got a new, streamlined board, one without the typical close ties to denominational hierarchy. They will present a report to the General Board. From what I've been told, this report will be kept private, perhaps only presented in Executive Session. I hope, hope, hope, I've heard wrong.

This sort of privacy is what got NPH into trouble in the first place. Handling things behind closed doors has been a long tradition in the Church of the Nazarene and we've really paid a price for it. Furthermore, while that sort of behavior may have been the norm within all sorts of corporate structures in the past, it's just not true anymore. People need transparency.

I recognize a lot of good, well-meaning people made some terrible mistakes in all this mess. More public statements and transparency will make their regret and embarrassment more pronounced. It's honorable to want to protect them as much as possible. But the truth is, those mistakes have been made already. We know what they were (at least we've got a pretty good idea of it). I'm well beyond the point of anger at any one person. I don't want anyone fired. I want our broken system fixed.

We don't have any sort of whistle-blower policies in place at our denominational headquarters. People who know of problems are afraid to bring them to light. That has to change. We've operated on relational trust more than hard facts, where things get done by handshakes and connections. That works, to some extent, when you're small and insular - but it's not going to work anymore.

The structure we have in place no longer serves the best needs of the denomination. The Board of General Superintendents exercises far more power in practice than they have by polity - that's dangerous for even the most holy of people.

I've been told decisions about the future of NPH and how to handle the problems of the past year will be left in the hands of the General Board. They'll decide what is made public and what is kept behind closed doors. I'm a little skeptical, to be honest, since the BGS and the General Secretary typically set the agenda for these proceedings and have been less than open during this process. I hope the General Board will make the choice for transparency. We've got some dirty laundry in the family. It's sad, but true. It's time for us to lay it out in the light of day so we can heal and move on.

In the narrative summary linked above, I put forth a request for some sort of Truth and Reconciliation type procedure, whereby those involved can explain their part in the NPH matter and be forgiven. People don't need to be raked over the coals. No one expects our leaders to be perfect. The Church of the Nazarene is full of love and forgiveness. We simply need to know what exactly happened, why it happened, and how we're going to prevent it from happening again.

I don't need to agree with the direction my denomination's leaders go, in fact, I probably disagree more than I agree. I don't need to agree, but I do need to trust. I need to trust that our leaders, our structure, and our process is functioning ethically and efficiently and, most importantly, in the mode of Christ. I'm just not convinced of that.

It pains me to say it, but it's true. The NPH affair involved massive monetary losses, but the response has been mostly an attempt to smooth over the problems, not fix them. This might be the largest scale issue we've faced, but it's certainly not the first. Without changes in structure and process, clearly outlined, with means of accountability, it's difficult to believe the same problems won't creep up again.

I don't expect the General Board to make huge changes. It is responsible to wait for the General Assembly, but we need some signal that it's being taken seriously. Having the NPH report presented in private is the exact opposite of what's needed. I hear that NPH report might contain some unflattering opinions about the actions and attitudes of the denominational administration towards NPH. That could be difficult to hear, but those grievances need to be aired.

If we really are the family we so often claim to be - I've seen first hand how Nazarenes from around the world can meet and find common acquaintances within minutes, an impressive feat for a denomination of 2+ million - we need to be willing to have the tough discussions, live with disagreements, work together. But to do so, we all need to be in on the conversation. Yes, we elect representatives to run things, but we don't elect them to shield us from reality.

If anyone has survived in the Church of the Nazarene for any length of time, it's because we love this denomination and the holiness ethic around which it's built. We want to be a strong force for good in the world. No one wants to see us weakened. We love the Church of the Nazarene. We love the publishing house that's supported and nurtured it for so many years. We love our elected leaders, who execute some of the most difficult responsibilities imaginable. And because of that great love, this just can't be left alone. We can't sweep another problem under the rug and hope for the best next time.

Let's put it all on the table, cry and grieve together, forgive and forge a new path to better enable us to be the people God's called us to be in the future.



*This narrative was shaped and formed by a lot of conversations over a long period of time. It's been amended and adjusted considerably over time. Much of the documentary evidence forming the outline of this narrative can be found linked from this page. I may still have some things wrong. I would love to be in conversation about where this narrative can be further refined to better reflect the reality of the situation.

My Best Friend's Funeral by Roger W Thompson

Disclaimer: I was given a free copy of this book for the purpose of review. My integrity is not for sale. Those who know me well are aware I would relish the chance to give a bad review in exchange for a free book. If I've failed to do so, it has nothing to do with the source of the material and only with the material itself.


My Best Friend's Funeral is a memoir. The real subject, though, is tough to pin down. It's about two friends, Roger and Tim, who found each other and the beginning of adolescence, and shared an unbreakable bond, through thick and thin, until one, Tim, was taken away, in a car accident at the age of thirty-three.

The funeral in the title is Tim's - and it's set up as a framing device for Roger to process his life and figure out how to find purpose and meaning. There's more to the memoir, though. It's a story of a kid who loves his dad, then loses him to drugs and death. It's about being a teenager and figuring out your place in the world. It's about surfing and skating. Then it's about being an adult and finding your place in the world all over again.

It's a Christian memoir, but only barely - in a good way. There's no insider language, no evangelism. Faith is central to life for these characters, but church is tangential. The purpose sought and found is more universal. This is a memoir about life. It's exceedingly accessible and it's very, very real. There are no cliches or easy answers. It's a story, very well written, about one guy and what he figured out about life.

It's mostly a narrative and although you know throughout where it's going to end up, you don't know how and you're waiting in anticipation for why the narrative is so important to begin with. I'm sure I missed out on a good chunk of the value not having shared the same experience of loss, but it's a darn good story nonetheless.

I'm not sure the end pays of as well as the reader would like (but again, I'm likely missing something important in fully appreciating the journey). It's a good book. Well worth checking out.


Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze.com® book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

The Prayer Breakfast

So, the President did what every President has done for the last 63 years last week - he spoke at the National Prayer Breakfast, a tradition in which people of all faiths are invited to slow down in the midst of political hurry, and recognize a common need for God. It's such a normal part of the calendar, I wasn't even aware of it happening until I started seeing a particular Facebook post from Franklin Graham running around the internet. In it he criticized the President's remarks and directly attacked Islam, saying the only true Muslims are violent ones and, by implication, dismissing the religion entirely.

I linked to the post, but the text of it is here:

Today at the National Prayer Breakfast, the President implied that what ISIS is doing is equivalent to what happened over 1000 years ago during the Crusades and the Inquisition. Mr. President--Many people in history have used the name of Jesus Christ to accomplish evil things for their own desires. But Jesus taught peace, love and forgiveness. He came to give His life for the sins of mankind, not to take life. Mohammad on the contrary was a warrior and killed many innocent people. True followers of Christ emulate Christ—true followers of Mohammed emulate Mohammed.

I'll be honest. This sort of perspective angers me. Infuriates me, really. It's all I can do to keep from lashing out with incredible furor. I appreciate Franklin Graham. I know a lot of people, personally, who've been helped out tremendously by Samaritan's Purse following disaster. One of the ebola doctors who made such headlines last year was working for this organization in Africa when he was infected - Kent Brantley was one of the individuals highlighted at the prayer breakfast and in the President's remarks.

At the same time, attacking a factually true statement, in the name of Christ, for political purposes is not only wrong, and sacreligious, but downright irresponsible. Attacking the core of a religion from the outside, while simultaneously ignoring the open-hearted pleas of actual adherenst that your opinion is misinformed is calloused at best and demonic at worst.

I recognize that a lot of people I know and care about agree with Graham's post, many shared it. They're going to be offended by my response. I think I'm ok with that. They're wrong. It doesn't make them bad people, simply people who happen to be way off base here. I know that's a strong statement, but a strong statement is necessary here.

Here's why:

You can read the full text of the President's remarks (and they're not very long), but there is a small section that caught the ire of Graham and others.

Now, over the last few months, we’ve seen a number of challenges -- certainly over the last six years. But part of what I want to touch on today is the degree to which we've seen professions of faith used both as an instrument of great good, but also twisted and misused in the name of evil.

As we speak, around the world, we see faith inspiring people to lift up one another -- to feed the hungry and care for the poor, and comfort the afflicted and make peace where there is strife. We heard the good work that Sister has done in Philadelphia, and the incredible work that Dr. Brantly and his colleagues have done. We see faith driving us to do right.

But we also see faith being twisted and distorted, used as a wedge -- or, worse, sometimes used as a weapon. From a school in Pakistan to the streets of Paris, we have seen violence and terror perpetrated by those who profess to stand up for faith, their faith, professed to stand up for Islam, but, in fact, are betraying it. We see ISIL, a brutal, vicious death cult that, in the name of religion, carries out unspeakable acts of barbarism -- terrorizing religious minorities like the Yezidis, subjecting women to rape as a weapon of war, and claiming the mantle of religious authority for such actions.

We see sectarian war in Syria, the murder of Muslims and Christians in Nigeria, religious war in the Central African Republic, a rising tide of anti-Semitism and hate crimes in Europe, so often perpetrated in the name of religion.

So how do we, as people of faith, reconcile these realities -- the profound good, the strength, the tenacity, the compassion and love that can flow from all of our faiths, operating alongside those who seek to hijack religious for their own murderous ends?

Humanity has been grappling with these questions throughout human history. And lest we get on our high horse and think this is unique to some other place, remember that during the Crusades and the Inquisition, people committed terrible deeds in the name of Christ. In our home country, slavery and Jim Crow all too often was justified in the name of Christ. Michelle and I returned from India -- an incredible, beautiful country, full of magnificent diversity -- but a place where, in past years, religious faiths of all types have, on occasion, been targeted by other peoples of faith, simply due to their heritage and their beliefs -- acts of intolerance that would have shocked Gandhiji, the person who helped to liberate that nation.

So this is not unique to one group or one religion. There is a tendency in us, a sinful tendency that can pervert and distort our faith. In today’s world, when hate groups have their own Twitter accounts and bigotry can fester in hidden places in cyberspace, it can be even harder to counteract such intolerance. But God compels us to try.

The President is speaking truthfully. Lots of terrible things have been done in the name of Christ over the years, even moreso in the name of God. No Christian wants to be represented by those heinous acts. This is much the same argument made by the prominent atheists of the day - that religion has been a needless excuse for violence and we're better off without it. Graham rightfully names this a false association, the Crusades and other "religious" atrocities are counter to the God those actors proclaimed.

The point of the President's speech was not to excuse any action, but to put in perspective the violence being done today in the name of Islam. If we are unwilling to be judged by the most violent, callous Christians among us, perhaps it is unwise to judge Islam by its most violent adherents, especially when so many Muslim faces are denouncing such actions as counter to the faith.

It seems our conservative Christian response is to say those are moderate Muslims and true believers are all about violence, as is the Qu'ran. This is precisely what Graham states in his post. I've heard the same thing in casual conversation in the sanctuary after worship on a Sunday morning (one good, Christian gentleman was under the impression the only solution to Muslim terrorism is to kill all Muslims). It's not a bogeyman; I've heard these statements myself.

This is precisely the point being made by the anti-religion crowd, the one so vehemently opposed by Christians - the same one they use to accuse Islam. That's is hypocritical. It's uncharitable. It's dangerous.*

But what if Islam really is evil and violent? Waiting to oppose it will just waste time. Of course, the same could be said for Christianity 500 or 1000 years ago. The Crusades prove as much, as does slavery. Nearly every war in Europe of the Americas in the last 2,000 years had a religious component. We can and do rightfully point out that these are distortions of the gospel of peace and love Christ lived among us. But it's not as though people thought that at the time. There was no majority crying out against the injustice of the Crusades; it wasn't a case of the masses opposing the religious crimes of the powerful (if anything it was the other way around - the powerful were the only ones who seemed to know violence violated Christian principles). A census of Christian opinion in 1500 would have likely shown us the vast majority of adherents found violence completely compatible with their faith - the same way a similar census might reflect Muslim opinion today (although, frankly, I have no idea what those numbers would be - we'd probably all be surprised).

Just because people claim faith as a motivation, doesn't mean it's reflective of anyone's faith but their own. That's the point. In forgetting this important fact, we're betraying our own faith. I know a lot of people who responded to the President's remarks the same way Franklin Graham did. I know they're not calloused, faithless Christians. Quite the opposite. I'm willing to believe that one misguided opinion doesn't shape their entire lives and it certainly doesn't shape the reality of the faith underneath.

The President responds, following the remarks above, with holy wisdom:

Our job is not to ask that God respond to our notion of truth -- our job is to be true to Him, His word, and His commandments. And we should assume humbly that we’re confused and don’t always know what we’re doing and we’re staggering and stumbling towards Him, and have some humility in that process. And that means we have to speak up against those who would misuse His name to justify oppression, or violence, or hatred with that fierce certainty. No God condones terror. No grievance justifies the taking of innocent lives, or the oppression of those who are weaker or fewer in number.

And so, as people of faith, we are summoned to push back against those who try to distort our religion -- any religion -- for their own nihilistic ends.

Response to the President is largely about politics. It just is. People don't like him. They question his faith because they disagree with his policies. We did the same with Bush and his war. The response is partly about politics, but it's mostly about fear. So much of what's come to be known as Christian faith rests on certainty. I'm not talking about faith - the faith that God exists or that Jesus will return to make all things right - I'm talking about certainty - the notion that what I believe about God is how God really is. That's just not how things work. God is truth, not our perception of God. We're always working to improve that perception, but with humility and grace.

And, I can't really finish this post without pointing out the irony of the followers of Christ a man who came "not to take life," becoming more and more comfortable with taking life. It's a problem.

If our calling is to live lives in imitation of Christ, we should be promoting peace and love with everyone with whom we interact. One would think, if we're trying to encourage more love, peace, and understanding in the world, maybe it would be important to support and encourage those Muslims who want to move their religion in that direction. Some will say Allah isn't God - which makes no sense to me. Any religion that worships one true God is worshiping the one true God. Just because we may disagree on what that God is like and how that God might want us to act doesn't mean we're not seeking the ultimate truth.

I believe God loves and God's love changes things. If anyone rejects that, no matter the religion they claim, they reject God. If anyone accepts that, no matter their religion, they accept God. If I'm wrong. If everyone needs to think or believe a very specific interpretation of traditional Christianity, you don't get people to come over to your side by threatening them, vilifying them, or being argumentative. You win people with love. We don't repay wrong for wrong, anger for anger - those things don't work.

Our President is criticized a lot. Rightly, in many instances. This particular criticism is not only unwarranted, but completely illogical and nonsensical. It is entirely outside the spirit of the prayer breakfast itself. It's embarrassing and it makes no sense given the faith so many of us profess.




*And for anyone who's wondering, inciting a world-wide religious war is not the way to bring about the second coming of Christ. That's terrible biblical interpretation. It's also incredibly arrogant; to think we could somehow influence God's timeline in that way, and through such violence.

Girl - Pharrell Williams

Yeah, so Pharrell made an album. He's always been a fantastic producer and collaborator. His fame is at near peak - so it only makes sense for him to squeeze some money out of it. I often get asked why none of these Best Album reviews are bad - I seem to like everything. Well, I certainly like some stuff more than others, but generally albums get nominated for Grammys for a reason. They're often pretty good.

I'm not sure if Pharrell's Girl will be the exception this year. I keep thinking back to Babyface releasing a full album after his hit from the Phenomenon soundtrack in the 90's. An aging, superstar producer with a commercial hit trying to capitalize. Babyface has a voice, but he was never a star. It was a bit of a disappointment (and that's being more than generous). Girl starts off with, "Marilyn Monroe," a track with a predictably great beat, but the lyrics are sadly shallow and Pharrell's voice doesn't pop at all.

I wonder if Pharrell gets this nomination because the voters don't want to alienate a guy who they hope to work with, a guy who can make them a star. For someone who makes his living adding real value to artists' work, the production value is incredibly underwhelming. Everyone loves Pharrell, he's always so positive and encouraging, it's no wonder he can bring in artists like Justin Timberlake, Alicia Keys, Miley Cyrus, and Daft Punk, at the same time there's a real feel that no one wants to hurt his feelings by criticizing the album. I couldn't find a single review that didn't essentially say, "We respect Pharrell, but this album might not be for everyone." Lot's of head-scratching here.

On "Brand New" the lyrics once again fall flat and Timberlake's vocals diminish what Pharrell does. I wonder if he'd have been better off just putting the thing together and getting other people to sing on each track like Avicii or some other producer/artist does. The overwhelming impression I get from the album is that it was put together quickly and with just enough care to get released, but it scream "money grab."

The Miley Cyrus track, "Come Get It Bae" is much the same way. It's a decent track, but it would be noticeably better with someone else singing. Miley does well, since she's, you know, an actual recording artist. Maybe Pharrell just came up with one or two singles and filled out the album with stuff he had laying around? I'm just having a hard time processing how anyone ever thought releasing this album was the right thing to do.

"Gust of Wind" feature Daft Punk and its only drawback is that Pharrell appears on it. The robots probably did as much as they could with what Pharrell presented them, but these lyrics are also barely salvageable. I get it. I write, but often I feel I'm much better making other people's stuff better than writing my own. There's no shame in being a collaborator. I guess Pharrell had to figure that out like anyone else.

Alicia Keys does some great work on "Know Who You Are," but again, there's not enough of her and too much Pharrell. It's also entirely too short and ends abruptly. "It Girl," the album's final track is good. Released on its own, it could be a solid single. The lyrics are well written, even if they're a bit vapid. The production is great. Pharrell's beat, as always, is solid. It fits his voice well. Still, there's clearly not enough here to make up for the rest of the album.

Some of the tracks are just bad. "Hunter" is completely unlistenable. Painful. If you played it for me and told me some guy wrote and recorded this in his living room, I would totally believe you. "Gush" is about exactly the worst possible thing you could imagine it's about from the title. Tasteless. Listening to this track makes me wonder if he intentionally made the worst possible album just to see how many people he could convince to buy it. I mean, there's a good chance he doesn't even show up to the Grammys since no one got his joke.

The very fact "Happy" is included on this album makes the hit single less valuable simply by association. Then you remember it was written for Cee-Lo and you realize he probably should have been allowed to sing it. It clearly would have been better.

For all that, I thought "Lost Queen" had endearing lyrics, decently written. Sparse production and finally a chance to show off the nuances of Pharrell's voice. I still think it would be better if he gave it to someone else to sing it, but Pharrell does do it justice, especially compared to the rest of Girl. The second half of the eight minutes is supposedly a second song ("Freq") on the same theme. It features uncredited vocals from Jojo (great!) and an interesting vibe. Remember, "Lost Queen" is easily the best thing on the record, and it would likely be a throw-away bonus track on most decent albums, so take it for what it is. It also seems to be about loving an alien or some admission that Pharrell is, in fact, an alien himself - which would make a ton of sense, actually.

In the end, in Girl, I'm sure Pharrell made the album he wanted to make. I guess his taste in music is just completely different than everyone else. He clearly knows what people like, his work proves that, maybe this is just for him.

Roots

There's a Catch-22 when you write a blog. You want people to see it - that's why it's published publicly. At the same time, once other people see it, you're losing context and control. It's public now and people can presume and assume whatever they wish about your nuance and motivation.

My friend, Ric, a former seminary classmate, posted a piece on his blog this week that went Nazarene viral. He got something like 30,000 hits the first day (100 times more than his normal total). Ric's a pastor in the United Methodist Church, but his training was in the educational system of the Church of the Nazarene (my denomination). He talked about some of the struggles he had and his decision to move from one denomination to another.

It brought up one of our most difficult, unhealed divisions - namely our perspective on education. Likely as long as there have been institutions of higher education in the Church of the Nazarene, people have been skeptical of them. Professors are on constant alert for charges of heresy or the dreaded "liberalism." You can read the whole post for more detail (and likely lots of comments and explanation), but ultimately, he got an offer to work at a UMC congregation, tried to keep his credentials with the Church of the Nazarene and, when that proved near-impossible, simply moved from one denomination to another.

What fascinated me about the whole thing (and the fact that its a "thing" is exactly that Catch-22 of which I spoke) is how defensive some people have become. Ric was pretty overt in stating this was simply his experience, with no claims to larger trends or narratives. The problem is, his experience mirrors the experience of a lot of young Nazarene ministers. Whether he wants it to be normative or not, to many, it is.

From here, the responses become not responses to Ric, but to the many others in a similar situation. One comment I saw said something to the effect of "you either run from the problem or stay to help fix it." This is certainly a truism - but only if there's enough impetus to care about fixing it in the first place. Ric proclaims, right off the bat, his main reason for leaving as a lack of roots. There just wasn't enough connection to the denomination to make any sort of struggle against adversity worth the time, pain, and effort.

That makes sense. Not so much to me, but in a general sense.

I get it. I, on the other hand, have deep, deep roots. My father is a Nazarene pastor. His father was a Nazarene pastor. As best as we can figure, my daughter is likely a sixth generation Nazarene. Both of my wife's parents are Nazarene pastors and her mom was raised in the Church of the Nazarene from birth. My Dad and his three brothers all went to Nazarene schools and picked up wives along the way (with their own set of Nazarene roots), a tradition that carried on for most of my generation as well.

I can't imagine myself not connected to the Church of the Nazarene. The only way I'd leave is if they physically bar me from the building.

The problem is, what it means for me to be a Nazarene is certainly different than what it meant for my dad or my grandfather or his parents. It used to be a pretty tight-knit community where not only were people united in the basic holiness message, but lifestyle, worship, and the larger spectrum of theology was relatively uniform all the way around.

I don't think Ric is crazy. In fact, his experience resonated as much with me as anybody else. I left my ordination interview more upset than excited - which is probably not the ideal scenario. I've witnessed the backlash against professors at Nazarene institutions and I've experienced our deep-seated anti-intellectualism on more than a few occasions.

There is some lingering notion that somehow education harms faith - the more you study the less you believe. I can certainly attest that my education has led to me to believe a number of thing quite differently than I believed before, but I'm also quite certain without this education I would no longer believe at all. My educational experience showed me there's more than enough space for my questions within the larger context of the Nazarene Church.

In my case, although my education sometimes makes me feel marginalized or unwanted, it served to connect my understanding to my roots. I was able to recognize what made the Church of the Nazarene so special to those in my family who've loved it - but also discover a way to engage that rooted joy from my own perspective and context.

For Ric, it seems (and forgive me for being one of "those" people reading into things you've written), his roots were more anchored in his educational experience. When push came to shove, the people to whom he felt rooted were being marginalized and challenged by the Church of the Nazarene. If you find out your roots aren't really that connected to the larger plant at all, what do you do? It makes perfect sense to me.

My roots are in a different place, but don't think I haven't thought about the distinct possibility they won't always feel that way. If you're driving down the road and see a friend with a flat tire, you're likely to stop and help. If they begin to blame you for their having a flat tire in the first place, you might put up with it for a while. If it continues, you're going to evaluate just how good of friends you really are and whether sticking this ordeal out is entirely worth the hassle.

It's been said, and I have no idea if this is true or apocryphal, that Randy Maddox's comment when asked why he chose the UMC over his Nazarene roots, was that he'd rather defend his head than his heart. That's the sad choice a lot of young Nazarenes feel they have to make. They'd rather be seen as a sincere believers with the occasional odd idea than learned people who may or may not be a real Christians.

I've come to define holiness (the only real reason the Church of the Nazarene still exists) as an ingrained commitment to God - sincerity and passion towards living a life in imitation of Jesus Christ. Too often that doesn't seem enough for many people. I don't want this to sound like a death knell for our denomination - there are certainly plenty of supportive, welcoming Nazarenes out there, likely a majority (although who really knows?) - at the same time the issue is pervasive and real. It's a part of our past and a part of our present. It may still be a big part of our future. I don't know. I hope not.

I do know there are a lot of young people leaving because they don't feel trusted, the feel the subject of fear rather than hope. Fear will wither roots faster than anything. It is trust that will make them grow. And, if perhaps you find it difficult to trust someone so seemingly different from you - a skeptical elder or a radical youth - could it be time simply to not trust them and instead trust the God so visible in their lives?

That's how we grow roots and it's how we stick together.