“Don’t just accept whatever comes your way in life. You were born to win; you were born for greatness; you were created to be a champion in life.”
“God wants you to have a good life, a life filled with love, joy, peace, and fulfillment.”
“When you focus on being a blessing, God makes sure that you are always blessed in abundance.”
“Don’t simply settle for what your parents had. You can go further than that. You can do more, have more, be more.”
“Be the one to stand out in the crowd.”
—Joel Osteen, Your Best Life Now
Focusing on how we can better ourselves is a popular industry these days. Best selling books often focus on self-improvement, on self-image, on increasing wealth. There is even a niche within Christianity called the “prosperity Gospel” or the “health and wealth movement.”
If you do X, God will bless you with Y.
A simple formula. Enticing, even.
I wonder, then, if Joel Osteen is almost on to something. No really. Hear me out.
A question by a friend came up recently. He asked, “What is the gospel?”
An obvious answer seems to be: “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and you will be saved.” As in, you will go to heaven and live forever in peace. For many folks, it seems obvious that Jesus came to die so that you could live. I recall one of the first pub theology sessions I ever attended, where someone was adamant that the only purpose of Jesus’ life was to die on the cross.
As I’ve reflected on my own view on these things, I’ve realized that such a cosmic-formula approach to the gospel is not only not very compelling to me, but that it is hard to find in the pages of the Gospels themselves.
In fact, Jesus is asked directly on several occasions: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
His responses range from: “Obey the commandments” to “Love the Lord your God and love your neighbor as yourself” to “Sell all that you have and give to the poor. Then come, follow me.” And in these encounters, Jesus often adds: “Do these things and you will live.”
In other words, Jesus doesn’t seem all that concerned with what happens after we die. He’s concerned with what is happening while we are alive. This was a common focus in Jewish thinking at the time—not to mention today—so it’s not all that surprising.
Yet it is surprising to many of us, because we’ve been so indoctrinated with the view that the gospel is primarily about going to heaven when we die.
Even when Jesus does tell stories or parables about heaven, they nearly always are rooted in how one is living a justice or other-centered life in this present existence. Think of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16) or the sheep and the goats (Matthew 25).
When Jesus begins his ministry, he began to say, “The kingdom of heaven is near.” Or the “kingdom of God is at hand.” In other words, God’s presence is unfolding right now all around you. Time to open yourself up to that reality. Time to live in that presence.
And what does living in that presence mean? It means things like, “loving your neighbor as yourself” and “giving to those who ask” and “loving your enemies” and throwing parties where the very least in society are given a seat at the table. It means good news to the poor.
Joel Osteen is right.
So Joel Osteen is right. Or at least, almost right. I just hadn’t seen it before.
He famously tells folks how to have “your best life now.”
Jesus, it seems, was about our best life now. And by ‘best life’, I mean, a life where we together, as community, live generously and peacefully with one another in light of God’s gracious presence. Where we seek to care for and make space for the most vulnerable and marginalized among us. Where we creatively re-imagine the world as one where there’s enough for all, where we respond to enemies with love and forgiveness rather than violence, and where seating at the table isn’t determined by wealth, or societal position, or if it is – it’s the poorest first, and the lowest on the ladder who get the best spot.
Jesus wasn’t about an easy life, which is what one might take from the prosperity preachers. He told us to take up our own cross—in other words—to oppose the unjust structures and powers that be and fight the injustices of our own day. It may well cost us something. But if we’re committed to it, it really could turn into our—all of humanity’s—best life. Now.
I’m in. Who’s with me?
Bryan Berghoef is a pastor, speaker, and author of the book: Pub Theology: Beer, Conversation and God. He’s also a big fan of his kids, baseball, and a good scotch.
Technology has doomed the spontaneity of adventure and we’re helping destroy it every time we Google, check-in, and hashtag. ― Jeremy Glass
Is social media “real life”? When we post photos of our kids playing the snow—is that real life? When we follow the Oscars via Twitter—is that real life? When we engage in heated discussions about politics on Facebook—is that real life? This was the topic at a couple of Pub Theology gatherings I attended this past week. Continue Reading..
In recent years, my family has navigated some rough patches; death, cancer treatments, open heart surgeries, chronic disease, etc. Now, I’m certain this isn’t everyone’s experience, but mine has been that in these times of trauma or tragedy, family comes together to stand with one another as we wrestle through life’s crap. We aren’t picking fights, we are crying on each other’s shoulders.
In recent months, our human family has been enduring an especially rough patch. Continue Reading..
The Coca-Cola Super Bowl ad which featured “America the Beautiful” sung in various languages has struck many as a beautiful display of the wide diversity of this nation. A nation which has always prided itself on being a melting pot, a place where people from anywhere on the globe have found a home.
Yet, unsurprisingly, some managed to find it inappropriate. One group responded on Facebook with this little gem: “Call us what you want, but my Ancestors came here and learned this beautiful language – they did not ask to be catered to… they taught themselves, and thrived…. to hear one of nation’s proudest songs in other languages was a bit disheartening… Bring on the Pepsi!”
Which makes me wonder, do we really want peace in our world? Do we really want understanding? As a person who seeks to cultivate dialogue between people of varying viewpoints, this is a high value of mine. Some disagree. Continue Reading..
“An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity.”
—Martin Luther King, Jr.
Along those lines, I read this great piece from the spiritual teacher and mystic Anthony de Mello today. It seems a fitting thing to share today, a tribute to Dr. King’s vision and work. He writes in his book Awareness:
“For instance, I’m an Indian. Now, let’s suppose that I’m a prisoner of war in Pakistan, and they say to me, “Well, today we’re going to take you to the frontier, and you’re going to take a look at your country.” So they bring me to the frontier, and I look across the border, and I think, “Oh, my country, my beautiful country. I see villages and trees and hills. This is my own, my native land!” After a while one of the guards says, “Excuse me, we’ve made a mistake here. We have to move up another ten miles.” What was I reacting to? Nothing. I kept focusing on a word, India. But trees are not India; trees are trees. In fact, there are no frontiers or boundaries. They were put there by the human mind; generally by stupid, avaricious politicians. My country was one country once upon a time; it’s four now. If we don’t watch out it might be six. Then we’ll have six flags, six armies. That’s why you’ll never catch me saluting a flag. I abhor all national flags because they are idols. What are we saluting? I salute humanity, not a flag with an army around it.”
Amen. May we all rise above the narrow confines of our varied nationalistic concerns so that we care equally for the broader concerns of all humanity. Until then, per Dr. King, perhaps we aren’t really living.
Guest post by Scot McKnight. Original post can be read here. I share this post because I see much that is in line with my own experiences of good conversations at the pub. Read it and see if you agree.
The question: What are the central characteristics of a genuine conversation in your opinion?
I want to draw your attention to a massive and brilliant study, but for most of us far too specialized to be a book to “blog” our way through. The book is Benedetta Craveri’s The Age of Conversation. Her book is a detailed analysis of 17th Century salons, directed mostly by women, designed not for professors and specialists but for a nobility that wanted to form a society where its values and interests could become the central focus. I contend that the term “conversation” can be understood by taking an interest in this movement. I see its descendants in high society England and major metropolises in the world (e.g., high society New York — think The New Yorker). One publisher comes to mind: Alfred A. Knopf.
The Age of Conversation, seen in the salons especially in France, found a group of people who had the following characteristics:
1. They were directed by women and showed an unusual degree of integration between the sexes.
2. They were concerned with the pleasure of conversation, of learning, of enjoying one another.
3. They were shaped by absolute equality between all participants.
4. They had an ideal: to “marry lightheartedness with depth, elegance with pleasure, and the search for truth with a tolerant respect for the opinions of others” (xiii).
5. They sealed themselves off from the power structures and politics of the day in order to form an ideal society.
6. They were shaped by a style: they carried on their lives with a notable style and a code of manners.
7. They secured an informal society that had some clear boundaries between themselves and others.
8. They were opposed from the left (Rousseau thought they were oppressive) and right (Pascal thought they were too worldly).
9. They privatized what was most important to life.
Now to the issue of “style”… Life was made in the salons of France into “the most elegant of games” (340) that was shaped by loving one’s partner and fellow salon members as they ought to be loved. Tolerance and mutual respect shaped the conversation completely; honoring the integrity and value of the other shaped the the conversation as well. These conversations became the educational force for those so involved.
Central to the task was aim of pleasing others and to do this they developed several strategies, and I shall try to use the French words with some brief translation:
Politesse: courtesy. Esprit: mental, spiritual, and social sense and joy. Galanterie: chivalry, galantry. Complaisance: an obligation to the other, kindness, amiability. Enjouement: cheerfulness. Flatterie: without being overdone, one was to complement the other. Raillerie: playful teasing of one another.
There are dangers here, like snobbishness, and they are obvious for anyone to see. But what happened was that the French salons created an environment where conversation occurred, not to beat the daylights out of someone else, not to denounce the other, but to enjoy the pleasure of discussing pressing concerns of a given group. They learned to converse in order to learn from one another and make one another more educated.
Conversation like this, however, has its problems. As Craveri sums them up, “their exquisite courtesy was a means of domination, and their intellectual malleability was a mask for sterility and sophism” (356). In fact, at times such conversations refused to ask the hard question. “As on the battlefield where French officers took their hats off to the enemy, or in life’s crucial moments when notaries drink to the health of their expiring clients, so, in theological discussion, politesse had the upper hand, and Morellet would turn to his adversary and address him as ‘Monsieur and dear atheist’” (359).
In other words, and I hope you like this swiped line from Cynthia Ozik, the danger of conversation in this sense is tete-a-tete gone flagrante delicto.”
The fundamental obstacles to conversation among are two-fold: most conversations are blocked either by a right vs. wrong obstacle or by an information-only obstacle.
Let us say that a person wants to converse about world religions, about the presence of “silent Christians” in the Islamic world, about the issues surrounding eschatology in the New Testament, about how to “do church” in a postmodern context, about preaching in today’s world, about homosexuality, about the church and the poor, about the gospel and social justice, about marriage, about rearing children… any topic that matters and any topic about which a person has concerns and wonders what is the best way to think about. Bring into the mix a person who is young or a person who really has serious and good questions about traditions … and you create the only kind of conversation that really can a conversation. Something important, a couple of people, and a desire to learn from one another. But, often mutual exploration is not what happens. Why?
The first obstacle is the right vs. wrong risk. Orthodoxy is right; anything else or less than orthodoxy is wrong. With that looming behind every conversation, when a person raises a question there is immediately a worry if what the person is asking is orthodox or not; whether or not by participating in such a conversation a person will be seen as harboring doubts about orthodoxy; and whether associating with such persons calls into question one’s reputation. Quickly, in many cases, the conversation stops being conversation and becomes instead a quick lesson on what tradition teaches the Bible says and that if one strays from that one is questioning the Bible and, there you have it, the slippery slope worry comes to the surface.
When conversation is shaped like this — and this is what I want to contend — there is no conversation. Instead, it becomes didactic. Which leads me to the second issue.
The second obstacle is that conversations, instead of becoming explorations of one another’s minds on a given topic as each reflects on how each makes theological decisions, become information-exchange sessions. Whoever knows the most becomes the teacher; whoever knows the least becomes the student. That’s all. It’s about information exchange. It becomes catechesis instead of conversation.But the “art” of conversation can’t be learned in such a context when everything is dominated by right vs. wrong or when it becomes whoever knows the most becomes the teacher. This isn’t conversation; this is lecture or information exchange.
I do not deny the value of information, nor do I deny the importance of orthodoxy. But can we have conversations sometimes?
What are the marks of a good conversation?
First, a good conversation (and therefore a good conversationalist) requires a safe environment. By this I mean space — somewhere to feel comfortable; and I mean at least two people with listening skills; and I mean the ability to disagree if necessary but not denounce, condemn or berate.
Illustration: most of us think this blog is safe; when someone joins us at the table and starts denouncing someone we feel uncomfortable. The reason we feel uncomfortable when someone denounces another is because we assumed we were in a genuine conversation in a safe environment. We believed we were in a conversation not sitting in a pew listening to a visiting pulpiteer.
I’ve been blogging now 8 years — began about this time 8 years ago — and sometimes I wonder how long I can keep doing this but it is the commenters — our virtual community — that keeps me plugging along. So thanks.
Many have turned to the blog world because they are having difficulties finding a safe place. I can’t tell you the number of pastors who have written me privately and said “I can’t say this on your blog, but I want to converse with you about the post today” or about something else.
Second, a good conversation requires a good topic or a good question. This one is clear: what is a good topic for some is not for others. It is also clear that some topics are better than others. Some topics are off-limits for one person and on-limits for another. There is a social skill involved here: some people perceive immediately what is on-limits or off-limits; others don’t.
Third, a good conversation operates on the basis of frequently-unexpressed but nearly always assumed, shared assumptions. I find this to be a regular hang-up on the blog. Many of us operate with a set of assumptions — and it would be fun to bring to expression what these really are — but we don’t talk about them. When someone violates them, we raise our eyebrows or start to wiggle our fingers and maybe even break into a sweat. Perhaps it begins with the viability of the question we ask.
Fourth, a good conversation requires the spirit of exploration and experimentation. If I ask my good friend, Greg Clark, who happens to be a philosopher and therefore practiced in the art of conversation and one who finds it delightful to turn over each stone somehow, a question, I expect him to tell me what he is thinking on the subject and he will probably explore his mind and he’ll ask me what I think and then I’ll ask him back and it goes on and on.
The major problem here is when someone gets too dogmatic. If in conversing we want to explore something together, we can’t have someone say “here’s the answer, buffo, and there’s no other possiblities.” The shared assumption is that we don’t get too dogmatic and that we explore and think together.
Fifth, a good conversation desires wisdom. I have very little use for a conversation that goes nowhere unless a few of us are gathered just to chat over beer or coffee or about a football game. No, a good conversation with a good topic or question leads to mutual exploration so each of us can learn and grow in wisdom. As a Christian, we want the conversation to lead us into the wisdom of the way of Jesus.
Sixth, a good conversation stays within the parameter of the topic. One of the routine challenges of conversation is wandering. We begin with a good question — Did Jesus do miracles by the power of the Spirit or in his own power? Can libertarian economics exist in a world like ours? — that begins on the right track but then someone begins to talk, and wander aloud to another topic (a previous event in life) and then we’re talking about that event, which leads to another topic and we realize we are no longer on topic. This element of conversation requires either a conversation partner who keeps us in line or, better yet, we make a mutual commitment to stay in line.
— Scot McKnight is a recognized authority on the New Testament, early Christianity, and the historical Jesus. McKnight, author of more than forty books, is the Professor of New Testament at Northern Seminary in Lombard, IL.
WASHINGTON, D.C. (Nov 21) — Had a great week this week joining other instigators at the CANA Initiative gathering, which happened here in Washington, DC.
It was a few days of brainstorming over what might come out of a network of networks bringing a range of people together who are ready to dream about, live into and experience a new kind of faith. A collaboration of collaborators—each seeking to make this world a better place—driven by the dreams of the prophets and Jesus and filled with a longing for the kingdom of God.
As Philip Clayton put it, sometimes you have to kick up the dust to see where the wind is blowing. Much dust was kicked up, including vital challenges from Anthony Smith and others on the need to expand the diversity present in the conversation from the outset (see his initial response here).
What in the world is CANA? Glad you asked. Here’s a synopsis that was created to capture some of the ethos:
CANA is a collective of Christian leaders, organizations and networks across the United States who collaborate to embody and act on a courageous, liberating and compassionate faith.
What do we love and what do we hope?
– To follow the movement of the Spirit by seeking reconciliation with God, our neighbors, and the earth; by making a fierce and constant commitment to God’s justice; and by nourishing generous Christian communities that unapologetically proclaim and seek God’s kingdom in their shared life and in the world.
– To connect around a liberating moral vision for America and do more together than we could ever dream alone.
– To participate in God’s reign of love breaking in everywhere and in everyone.
What will we do?
Broadly, we will engage in constructive, collective action. Specifically, we will …
– CONNECT groups and institutions that share common loves and common hopes, gathering a network of networks that embody a positive, progressive, courageous, and compassionate Christian ethos.
– ADVOCATE for this new ethos by engaging in passionate, constructive and civil conversation with the wider public and within broader religious, civic and educational structures.
– NOURISH those who embody this ethos by creating diverse communities of encouragement and accountability; networked structures that are sustainable and expandable; and a sustainable financial base.
– ACT by identifying shared priorities and issues, collaborating across denominations, racial and ethnic backgrounds, and organizational specializations for the sake of the common good.
A few more thoughts from the CANA website:
The CANA Initiative participants share a sense of exploration, creativity, challenge and opportunity in this pivotal and dynamic moment. Because we are rooted in a generous Christian heritage, we are eager to collaborate with people of other faiths, and those seeking the common good. Our networks of dialogue and action thus extend beyond Christian communities to persons of all faiths, as well as to communities that are not themselves faith-based. We welcome allies and allegiances wherever we find common cause.
The CANA Initiative seeks to translate critical thinking about the past and present into creative collective action for the future, and to do so in a spirit that is positive, irenic, sympathetic, and generous. We welcome people from a wide spectrum of theological, political, and ethnic traditions. We encourage a wide range of ecclesial structures. The CANA Initiative sees this diversity as a sign of health and vitality.
Along the way, we were blessed with much poetry from friend Gary Paterson from the United Church of Canada, including this gem from Boris Novak, Croatian poet:
Decisions
by Boris Novak (tr. Dintinjana)
Between two words choose the quieter one.
Between word and silence choose listening.
Between two books choose the dustier one.
Between the earth and the sky choose a bird.
Between two animals choose the one who needs you more.
Between two children choose both.
Between the lesser and the bigger evil choose neither.
Between hope and despair choose hope: it will be harder to bear.
The events began Tuesday evening with dinner in the home of the Dean of the Washington National Cathedral, Gary Hall. He and his wife were delightful hosts as we began to reconnect with familiar faces and quickly met some new ones. Since it was happening in our town, we invited a few house guests to stay with us, coming from places like LA, Denver, Atlanta, Charlotte and elsewhere. Left over wine and desserts were brought to our house Wednesday night as a vibrant after-party kept the good conversations going. It was a rich few days of thinking, collaborating, networking, discovering, and dreaming. Looking forward to seeing where things lead!
— Were you at CANA this week? Would love you to include a line or two of your experience—hopes, dreams, cautions—below.
UPDATE: Here’s one from my partner in crime, Christy: That moment on your life path when you come to a deep level of knowing —knowing you are not alone, but are walking with many others to a similar rhythm that somehow transcends categories, understanding and language. And you want to pause. And listen. And grow into the pulse of it.
So grateful for a few days of stumbling around and processing with all the inspiring initiators of the CANA Initiative!
We loaded the kids, our mammoth tent, and some food (and beer!) into the van last Thursday and headed off to the hills of North Carolina. We were ready to hit the third annual Wild Goose Festival.
We arrived at Hot Springs, NC to discover puddles, mud and —smiles. Hundreds of people setting up camp, giving directions, prepping stages and venues, setting up craft booths, plucking guitar strings, and more. Despite the deluge of rain the night before, and the forecasted rain (which did come), the Goose would go on.
After setting up camp, the kids discovered some friends they had met at the event last year, and my wife Christy and I headed off to our first event: A Darkwood Brew Unplugged conversation between the Darkwood Brewmaster himself, Eric Elnes, and writer and speaker Frank Schaeffer. The open conversation about the mysteries of faith, and the urgency of getting real about issues that affect our world reminded me that I was in the right place. “Certainty gets in the way of truth,” Frank would say more than once, to my internal amen. “When we’re certain about God, certain about what it means to be spiritual, certain about our theological and doctrinal systems, we close ourselves off from the larger spiritual truths that there are to be gained.”
He would go on to note that we grow by discovery, by being wrong, by re-thinking – and that this is true in nearly every facet of life. Can it be so different when it comes to God? About halfway through the session, Frank shared his own keys to living a meaningful life: “Create beauty, give love, and find peace.” Those gathered under the tent murmured and smiled in agreement. “If you do these three things — and I mean anyone, regardless of their religious affiliation or commitments— if you do these three things, you’ll look back and be content with how you lived your life. If you ignore these things, you’ll regret it.”
Create beauty. Give love. Find peace.
Before the session ended, my two youngest kids were growing restless and were ready for bed. We walked back to the tent as the sky darkened and rain threatened, passing many other festival-goers on the way. I rounded up our two oldest boys, who had been speeding through mud puddles on their bikes, and we all got ready for bed. The rain hit right after we all snuggled in our sleeping bags, which was exactly the time that the main musical act for the evening got started. Our tent was about thirty or forty yards from the main stage, and when Speech from Arrested Development began his show, the speakers were booming and the show was on. My three youngest passed out (thank you, God!) to the hip-hop beat, while my oldest son Henry and I enjoyed the show from the dryness of the tent, mildly envying those jumping up and down in the rain in the front row.
Speech performing in the rain – photo courtesy Geoff Maddock
The show reached a fever pitch when he performed Arrested Development’s most well-known song, Tennessee:
Lord I’ve really been real stressed
Down and out, losin ground
Although I am black and proud
Problems got me pessimistic
Brothers and sisters keep messin up
Why does it have to be so damn tuff?
I don’t know where I can go
To let these ghosts out of my skull
My grandmas past, my brothers gone
I never at once felt so alone
I know you’re supposed to be my steering wheel
Not just my spare tire (home)
But Lord I ask you (home)
To be my guiding force and truth (home)
For some strange reason it had to be (home)
He guided me to Tennessee (home)
Take me to another place
Take me to another land
Make me forget all that hurts me
Let me understand your plan
The themes of this song and another hit, Mr. Wendal, about a homeless man, touched many of us as we saw the spiritual side of Speech, who would articulate more of his spiritual background and inspiration in an interview with Krista Tippett the next day.
Even as I went to bed early that night, the days to follow would include catching up with a number of friends, making plenty of new ones, and attending sessions on non-violence, the environment, racism, the arts, and much more. I’d get to hug and embrace former friends and congregants of the church I led for nearly seven years in Michigan.
We’d delight in the poetry (and grilling!) of Mike Stavlund, Michael Toy, and Troy Bronsink, I’d share with contemplative-minded folks the resources of the Shalem Institute, reconnect with Mark and Lisa Scandrette (who are as delightful as ever!), have a beer with Frank Schaeffer and Richard Cizik, a conversation with Brian McLaren in the rain, a walk in the sunshine with Phyllis Tickle, and—a definite highlight—I’d get to meet Krista Tippett and share just how much her show Speaking of Faith and now onBeing have meant to my own journey. Perhaps best of all would be seeing the smiles on my kids’ faces each day as they ran, biked, splashed, played and laughed, even—or perhaps especially—when covered in mud and rain.
Late nights would follow as I would run into Rich McCullen, Tripp Fuller, and Trey Pearson of Everyday Sunday late Friday night – and we’d laugh about music, sermons, and having one too many beers (in theory). Saturday night seemed to never end after the delightful experience of the Indigo Girls performing up close (this deserves a whole ‘nother post!), deep conversation (and a few hymns) over beers later with fellow pub theologians Kirk Berlenbach and Michael Camp, and I would even manage to sell a few copies of my book Pub Theology at the beer pavilion (somehow easier to sell the later the night went).
On this first early night, however, as I fell asleep to the sounds of Speech lighting up the crowd and filling up the night with his rhythm and rhymes, all this was yet to come—nearly two thousand of us gathered in the Carolina hills—ready to create beauty, find love, and give peace.
Now I see the importance of history
Why people be in the mess that they be
Many journeys to freedom made in vain
By brothers on the corner playin ghetto games
I ask you Lord why you enlightened me
Without the enlightenment of all my folks
He said cuz I set myself on a quest for truth
And he was there to quench my thirst
But I am still thirsty…
The rain continued to land softly on the tent, rolling off the rainfly like so much water off a goose’s back.
—- Bryan Berghoef writes and tweets from the nation’s capital, and is the author of Pub Theology: Beer, Conversation, and God. He insists that good things happen when we sit around the table together and talk about things that matter.
WASHINGTON DC – I live down the road from the old Walter Reed Army Medical Center, which served more than 150,000 active and retired personnel from all branches of the military before moving to its new location in Bethesda, MD.
In 2006, yoga teacher Robin Carnes began teaching yoga at Walter Reed to returning soldiers suffering from severe cases of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
“It’s cleansing — I really feel refreshed,” Marine Sgt. Senio Martz said after finishing a recent yoga session.
“Once dismissed as mere acrobatics with incense, yoga has been found to help ease the pain, stiffness, anger, night terrors, memory lapses, anxiety and depression that often afflict wounded warriors,” notes Huffington Post blogger David Wood.
Alarmingly high suicide rates among veterans, as well as domestic violence, substance abuse and unemployment, suggested to some military doctors, combat commanders and researchers that conventional treatments, such as mind-numbing drugs, aren’t always enough.
Yoga and meditative practices are now gaining wide acceptance within hard-core military circles.
When she started at Walter Reed, Robin Carnes said, she was working with eight wounded troops with physical and mental health injuries. Some hadn’t slept for more than two hours at a time, for years, she said. “They were immediately like, ‘I can’t do this, it won’t work, you have no idea what’s going on in my brain.’ I’d say, ‘Just try it, it’s helped others.’ And probably because they were desperate — nothing else had worked, including drugs — they did try it. And I saw, sometimes within the first day, they started to relax. Snoring! They’d tell me, ‘I don’t know what happened, but I feel better.'”
One of her patients was struggling with outbursts of violent anger, a common effect of PTSD, and had gotten into raging arguments with his wife. Several weeks into regular yoga classes, Wood reports, he went home one day “and his wife lit into him and he could feel a confrontation coming on,” Carnes said. “He told me that he’d taken a deep breath and told his wife he was going upstairs to meditate. And that was the first time he’d been able to do that.”
“I knew anecdotally that yoga helped — and now we have clinical proof of its impact on the brain, and on the heart,” said retired Rear Adm. Tom Steffens, a decorated Navy SEAL commander and yoga convert. Within the military services and the Department of Veterans Affairs, he said, “I see it growing all the time.”
In his HuffPo piece, Wood makes a historical connection:
“the military’s embrace of yoga shouldn’t be a surprise. After all, yoga — a Sanskrit word meaning to “join” or “unite” — dates back to 3,000 B.C., and its basic techniques were used in the 12th century when Samurai warriors prepared for battle with Zen meditation. Still, some old-timers are shocked to find combat Marines at Camp Lejeune, N.C. and amputees at James A. Haley VA Medical Center practicing their deep breathing techniques.”
No Time For Silence
Now yoga and meditation are being utilized by the military not just for returning veterans, but on the front end: in training.
And not everyone is happy about it.
At the beginning of a regular radio address in January, the Family Research Council head, Tony Perkins, declared: “In the military, it’s out with God–and in with the goofy!”
What does he think is goofy?
Yoga classes being offered to military members.
“I just don’t get it.”
Andrew Kirell at Media-ite reported that Perkins noted the “goofy” style of exercise has been used as a “wacky” substitute for a “personal relationship with God,” effectively driving religion out of the military.
“As part some new training, Marines are being asked to join weekly yoga and meditation classes,” he explained. “Sergeant Nathan Hampton said the idea took some getting used to. ‘Why are we sitting around a classroom doing weird meditating stuff?’ he wondered.”
Perkins neglected to mention that in the very same Washington Times article [where he got the quote], Sgt. Hampton continued on to explain that he warmed up to yoga and now enjoys the practice: “Over time, I felt more relaxed. I slept better. Physically, I noticed that I wasn’t tense all the time. It helps you think more clearly and decisively in stressful situations. There was a benefit,” he’s quoted as saying.
Nevertheless, Kirell reports that Perkins continued on:
“Former Army Captain Elizabeth Stanley says it’s to relieve stress. She’s the one behind M-Fit, or Mind Fitness Training. She insists the New Age approach ‘creates a sense of calmness, reduces drug and alcohol use, increases productivity, and improves working relationships.’
“What a coincidence–so does faith! Unfortunately, the military seems intent on driving religion out and replacing it with wacky substitutes,” he continued. “They’ve added atheist chaplains, Wiccan worship centers, and now, meditation classes. But none of them are as effective or as constructive as a personal relationship with God. Unfortunately, though, it’s mind over what matters–and that’s faith.”
Ugh. I scarcely know where to begin.
I’m glad to hear that some veterans are getting some treatment that is at least helping to some degree.
It’s frustrating, but probably unsurprising, that folks like Perkins would be offended and scared about people actually slowing down and pausing for some silence and paying attention to their minds, hearts, and bodies, rather than ignoring them.
I’ve found that meditative and contemplative practices give me space and clarity and patience, something all of us need. Not to mention that these practices can create space in which to connect deeply with God.
Why Perkins pits contemplation and yoga against faith is beyond me. Contemplative practice has been a huge part of faith, including the Christian faith, for centuries. I suppose, as a good evangelical, he keeps thinking that Christianity really only began with Dwight Moody, Billy Graham, and the rise of fundamentalism in the early 20th century. (Never mind that yoga practices are a fair bit older than Christianity.)
A few comments in reaction to this story:
“If the answer to everything is faith, why do they even have guns? I’m pretty sure Jesus didn’t run around sporting a camo uniform over body armor and toting an assault rifle and hand grenades.”
“I assume then that [Tony Perkins] doesn’t practice yoga, leaving [him] inflexible in both body and mind.”
“The ancients evolved yoga as the means to getting control of consciousness; calming down in the process, thereby benefiting health– physical, mental, and also more subtly, the spiritual within us. The simple act of sitting and concentrating on one thing (meditation) offers all sorts of rewards, such as the ability to lessen reactions to emotional content that comes up (which directly helps those who’ve seen combat). Not to pretend them away, no, but to acknowledge and honor those difficult emotions, but not yielding any longer to them in a passive way. A spaciousness that is healing comes from the practice. It’s the difference between drifting and steering.”
“We need to grow up and realize that we, the Americans, aren’t the be all and end all of civilization(s) past, present and future. We should look for the best from all cultures, religions, beliefs and try to emulate those in our lives; not worry and complain because something that conflicts with our own religious beliefs is being used to great success. We should listen instead to those who preach inclusion. Our planet is small, we are many; it’s obvious to all forward thinking peoples that we will have to one day learn to live peaceably with each other. Our daily lives are filled with bombs, constant aggressive war, and ever-expansive military budgets to kill, maim and torture, but we hear nothing from Mr. Perkins, the Christian, on those subjects.”
“What’s goofy is having a “Family Research Council”. Especially one that doesn’t do any actual research.”
“Well, God forbid military personnel engage in practices that improve their physical health, mental health, and general well-being. I mean, what do soldiers need strength and flexibility for?! And stress relief for soldiers is just silly! I mean, it’s not like they have a stressful job that can result in PTSD, depression, or mental health issues that could lead to suicide or homicide, right? We just hand them a Bible instead. After all, wasn’t Jesus doing such a good job exercising and meditating with them before?”
“Freedom of religion for our troops? Now that’s just un-American!”
“Hopefully he soon realises that meditation is not a religious activity unless you want it to be, and that there is something called Christian meditation which allows for a deeper understanding and contemplation of God and [can] strengthen the bonds between the believer and the Christian Church.”
My favorite comment, though, comes from Wipf & Stock editor Charlie Collier:
Tony Perkins is confused. Yoga, in the “mind fitness” or “stress relief” form being explored by the military, is probably not incompatible with Christian faith and practice. However, the sacrificial cult at the heart of American civil religion—whereby our freedom is allegedly purchased by the blood of “our” soldiers (never “theirs”!)—constantly threatens to overwhelm the Christian understanding of the finality and universality of the cross of Christ. Adding a personal relationship with Jesus, as Perkins wants, would only add insult to the primary injury—replacing the sacrifice of Christ with the sacrifice of soldiers (not to mention all the others sacrificed in war, including many innocent women and children). If Perkins wants to combat idolatry in the American military, he’s going to need to get more root and branch about matters.
What do you think? Are yoga and meditation a threat or a complement to Christian faith? (Or general well being, for that matter).
A recent article in The Banner, the online and print magazine of the Christian Reformed Church, began with the following:
I suspect that a thousand years from now Christians will look back at the 21st century and say, “How could Christians have let themselves think that?” They’d have in mind our theology—some of the doctrines that are so precious to us and that we consider to be the backbone of Christianity.
Some saw this as provocative. Some as overstating the case. Others as unthinkable.
My thought was, “People are already saying this now.”
The article more or less centers around the issue of evolution, which, at least in one form or another, has attained a near consensus status among scientists as being part of the process of the development of life on earth, including all animal life. Animal life includes people, which is in many ways where the rub is.
Are we, as C.S. Lewis puts it in the Chronicles of Narnia, the “sons of Adam and daughters of Eve”?
Scientists argue that it is not genetically possible for present DNA diversity to have issued from a single pair of ancestors in recent history.
So the writer of the provocative article in the Banner rightly notes that we must begin to assess certain readings and/or doctrines which seem to rely upon a view of the world which may not, in the end, be accurate.
Yet some would say, can’t we just read the Bible literally? Well, no. At least not accurately (with regard to science. Or literature).
The biblical depiction of human origins, if taken literally, presents Adam as the very first human being ever created. He was not the product of an evolutionary process, but a special creation of God a few thousand years before Jesus—roughly speaking, about 6000 years ago. Every single human being that has ever lived can trace his/her genetic history to that one person.
This is a problem because it is at odds with everything else we know about the past from the natural sciences and cultural remains.
There are human cultural remains dating well over 100,000 years ago. One recent example is 130,000-year-old stone tools found on Crete. (Their presence on an island presumes seafaring ability at that time.) Ritual/religious structures are known to have existed as far back as 40,000-70,000 years ago. Recently, a temple complex was found in Turkey dating to about 11,500 years ago—7,000 years before the Pyramids.
In addition to cultural artifacts, there is also the scientific data from the various natural sciences that support a very old earth (4.5 billion years old) and the evolutionary development of life on it—things most readers of this Web site hardly need me to point out. Most recently, the genetic evidence for common descent has, in the view of most everyone trained in the field, lent great support to the antiquity of humanity and sharing a common ancestry with primates.
So reading the Bible literally is problematic for scientific and historic reasons. And there is another reason:
There is a third line of evidence that is a problem for a literal reading of the Adam story. Archaeological evidence gathered over the last 150 years or so has helped us understand the religions of the ancient Near East during and long before the Old Testament period. As is well known, Genesis 1 and the Adam story bear unmistakable resemblances to the stories of other peoples—none of which we would ever think of taking as historical depictions of origins.
Bingo.
And many people realize this, and have realized it for some time.
But apparently not certain readers of the Banner.
Objections ranged from: “Asking a whole lot of big complex questions without any attempt to answer it is not helpful” to “This article should have never made print” to “This article implicitly affirmed a lot of heretical propositions” and finally, “Is it possible to overture Synod to remove and replace the editor of the Banner for behavior so damaging to the well being of the churches?”
There were many more reactions, some of which were very thoughtful, others of which were more of the above (and worse!).
Was it a perfect article? I suppose not. But neither was it terrible. It opens the door to further dialogue, and that’s what we need. It is OK to ask a lot of big questions. And not only OK, imperative. Asking questions is an important, crucial step in learning anything.
Whenever you are no longer allowed to ask questions, you can safely assume you’re no longer in a good place.
We should be asking questions, and not just about tomorrow’s theology a thousand years from now, but about what we might, by grappling with Scripture, science, and the best of human understanding, believe today about ourselves, our world, and God.
Many are already doing it, and we should join them.
Bryan Berghoef is a pastor, speaker, and author of the book: Pub Theology: Beer, Conversation and God. He’s also a big fan of his kids, baseball, and a good scotch.
In recent years, my family has navigated some rough patches; death, cancer treatments, open heart surgeries, chronic disease, etc. Now, I’m certain this isn’t everyone’s experience, but mine has been that in these times of trauma or tragedy, family comes together to stand with one another as we wrestle through life’s crap. We aren’t picking fights, we are crying on each other’s shoulders.
Bryan Berghoef writes and tweets from the nation’s capital, and is the author of 
Bryan Berghoef writes and 