As Jesus followers we are called into the Kingdom Life. This blog will help us converse and learn what that means. It will contain thoughts on Scripture, Sermon Reflection, Leadership Training and interesting reads. -Pastor Jeff

Tuesday, May 26, 2020

Your Brother's Blood Cries Out: Racism and the Body

“Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground.” Genesis 4:10

Racism is not an idea or a concept, though for some it has become an ideology. Racism isn’t a “cultural issue” among others to be bantered about on social media with an air of detached curiosity or self-exempting privilege. Racism is a spiritual perversion rooted in the way in which we treat certain bodies. Racism is a deep spiritual sickness in humanity that manifests itself in the endlessly uncreative forms of mistreatment, oppression, neglect, exploitation, and violence.

Racism is rooted in the sin of Cain, the denial of “brother keeping.”

This sin, though spiritual, is directly connected to the way bodies are treated. Racism is about the body. When we speak of George Floyd, we speak of a body, a black body gasping for breath as the knee of another body presses down on the neck, cutting off from that black body the necessary lifeline of oxygen. It’s a clear picture of bodies, a white body suffocating the life from a black body, the replay of the primeval story of two brothers, one mistreating the body of the other.

The history of racism is a history of mistreating bodies, the bodies of real men, women, and children. It’s the history of enslaving bodies, selling bodies, ripping bodies from the ties of their kin, binding bodies to forced labor, a labor that produces a fruit their bodies will never enjoy. It’s a history of raped bodies at the hands of those who exert power over bodies they’ve claimed as property. It’s a history of bodies denied rights, simply because they have the wrong bodies. It’s a history of lynched bodies, threatened bodies, and terrorized bodies. It’s the history of bodies crammed into close quarters in substandard housing as the bodies of the privileged point in superiority at the ways those historically mistreated bodies act.

It’s a history that continues to deny bodies adequate healthcare.
It’s a history that continues to lock bodies away in prison at disproportionate rates.
It’s a history that continues to pay certain bodies lower wages.
It’s a history that continues to perpetuate scarcity in nutrition, access to education, and housing to certain communities where those bodies are located.
It’s a history that denies it’s history by suggesting, “That was then, and this is now. All bodies are equal.”

But all bodies are not equal. Some bodies have historically been and continue to be cut off, left out, abused, and in the case of George Floyd (and the countless others) made victim to the carnage of the violence this spiritual sickness produces.

Not only is racism about bodies. It is embodied. Racism lives on in the bodies of those historically mistreated because of their bodies. It lives on in the inherited traumas passed down from one generation to the next. It lives on in the presumption of guilt because of the color of the body. It lives on in the societal truth that certain bodies are often considered expendable. It lives on when certain bodies are considered threatening simply because the color of their body. It lives on in the body of every young man who leaves the house wondering, “if today will find me in an occasion that might cost me my life simply because my body was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Racism isn’t an unfortunate “idea” easily changed or a historic problem easily legislated. Racism is about broken bodies, rooted in a deep spiritual sickness, one that watches on as bodies like George Floyd cry out,

“I’m through.”

Those haunting words, not unlike the words that God speaks to Cain, “Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground,” demand a response. Yes, to confession. Yes, to lament. Yes, to prayer. But a meme won’t suffice. A hashtag isn’t adequate. This is a spiritual sickness manifested in the body and requires bodily action. It was what Cain did to the body of Abel, denying it, that set us on this trajectory of historic fratricide. It’s what the Good Samaritan does with his body to the broken body of the beaten traveler that makes him a merciful neighbor. It’s what Jesus does with His body that makes possible the reconciliation of our bodies to His and the making of One Body that traverses the perverted divisions that sow the seeds of violence.

We must act bodily.
We must bring our bodies into solidarity with the bodies of our brothers and sisters of color.
We must bind our bodies in proximity, a loving, faithful presence to those we too often encourage from afar.
We must leverage the privilege our bodies afford us for the sake of making lasting change.
We must be willing to lay aside the power our bodies afford us and instead take up the role of servant.
We must pause our bodies and wait to be given guidance from the bodies most affected by racism.
We must be willing to lay down our bodies for the sake of others as a true act of Christ-like love.
We must manifest in The Body of Christ, the kind of community that unites in pursuit of BOTH justice and reconciliation, dignity restoration and peace-making.

Instead of waiting for the next “I’m through” from another George Floyd, as the last gasping breath, we must hear the words from Jesus’ broken body, “It is finished.” The spiritual forces that bind us to violence, to division, to injustice, they have been defeated. The long history of scapegoating and the tyranny of the powerful and privileged, “It is finished.” It is now to us to manifest in our bodies the holy self-giving love of Jesus that bears out that victory in real, redemptive, reconciling ways.

May God have mercy upon us.

Wednesday, May 13, 2020

Optimism Fatigue: 5 Practices to Avoid Leadership Burnout in Crisis

I write this for the sake of leaders. You are paying an emotional toll amid this crisis that perhaps you are unaware. It’s insidious cost that sneaks up on us, catches us off guard, and amplifies the intensity of nearly every public action we take, every post, every public word we speak. It looms in the background of nearly every meeting, conversation, phone call and email. It’s born of the expectations that come with our roles. It’s the unspoken expectation of those we lead.

The emotional cost...optimism fatigue.

Leadership doesn’t afford one the luxury of losing their bearing amid a crisis. Leaders don’t run around shouting like Chicken Little that the “sky is falling.” Leaders can’t bounce between the latest conspiracy theories, or publicly vent and rail about things they’ve no control over. What’s the adage, “cooler heads will prevail?”

Leadership is about meeting challenges head on. It’s about being calm in the face of chaos, deliberate in the face of the deluge of uncertainty, and measured in the mayhem. Leaders don’t bury their heads in the sand to avoid the bad news nor do they wallow in “woe is us” mud of broken moments. Leaders authentically embrace the real news (even when its bad news), name the challenges, but then seek to help the people they lead envision the possibilities and opportunities emerging from the crisis.

It’s born of the expectations that come with our roles. It’s the unspoken expectation of those we lead.

Leaders have the capacity to reframe reality for the people they lead, boldly challenging those they lead to meet the opportunities with resilience and hope. Leaders remain optimistic for the sake of their people and their organization. Leaders carry a profound weight amid crisis.

The longer the crisis remains, the greater the emotional toll of mustering optimism.

Being a leader doesn’t exempt you from the same insecurities and anxieties others experience. It doesn’t exempt you from the mornings you wake up and think, “This ship is going down and if the people knew who was at the helm they would be lowering the life rafts right this moment.” Leadership doesn’t exempt one from self-doubt, fears, and even the internal battle of despair. Leadership doesn’t mean we aren’t asking the same questions everyone else is, frustrated by the same lack of information, and the wish that we could just wave a magic wand and make it all go away. Being a leader doesn’t exempt us from the human condition.

It’s that tension, the longer the crisis remains, that exhausts us.

We know how we feel, but we know what’s expected of us, because let’s face it, “cooler heads will prevail.”

Optimism fatigue is real. It makes the normal workday seem absurdly exhausting. It tempts us to become resentful of our organizations and those we lead, wishing we didn’t have to constantly talk them into remaining hopeful. We ask, “why do I carry the entire load.” It erodes our energy and leaves us bankrupt of emotions for those we care most about. But what must we do about that?

Here are 5 things that might be helpful:

1.) Reclaim Safe Space: Find other leaders who are carrying a similar weight and allow that to be a safe space to vent, share, and articulate the deep fears and concern.

2.) Restore Margin: Crisis is all-consuming...Or at least it can feel as though it is. When’s the last time you took a real day off? I mean a full day without responding to the demands of others. If that is impossible in this current season, find some margin of disconnection and clearly communicate it to your organization. “Every Friday from 3 until Saturday morning I’m unavailable.”

3.) Resist the Urge to React: In a crisis, you will see some stuff on Social Media. Not every post requires a reaction from you. Sometimes people are just saying stuff. They are venting their fears because they don’t know where else to say it. Let it be. PM them and tell them you are praying for them or thinking of them in these difficult times. Avoid the useless arguments.

4.) Retain Authenticity: Nothing I’ve stated in this article suggests that leaders should be inauthentic. Know thyself as a leader. Allow the people you lead to know you as well. Authenticity doesn’t mean we verbally vomit on the people we lead. However, a leader can state, “Like you, I too have deep concerns and questions about our future.” One can name emotional proximity to the people. Empathy connects us and keeps us grounded in our true self.

5.) Recognize the Warning Signs: As a leader, you aren’t, in the face of crisis, exempt from depression, burnout, and anxiety. Stay aware and be honest with yourself and with others. Do you have a therapist/counselor? Do your loved ones understand the emotional toll? Are you isolating? Are you coping with some form of compulsive behavior? When’s the last time you’ve seen your physician?

Optimism fatigue in the face of crisis is real. You are carrying a burden. You are not alone. It is time to take action.