Mexican Megachurch Compares Pastor Jailed for Sex Abuse to the Apostle Paul

CT editors

UPDATE: The leader of La Luz del Mundo was sentenced to 17 years for sexual offenses against minors he groomed in the congregation.

Al Seib / Los Angeles Times via AP

Update (June 8): As a county judge in California deemed pastor Naasón Joaquín García a “sexual predator” and sentenced him to nearly 17 years in prison on Wednesday, members of his congregation in Mexico gathered to pray and stand with their “apostle,” the Los Angeles Times reported.

The pastor of the Guadalajara-based megachurch La Luz del Mundo admitted last week to three charges of sexual offenses toward children. His followers believe he entered the plea deal to avoid an unjust trial. They have dismissed the allegations that he groomed underage girls in the congregation for sex abuse.

A statement from La Luz del Mundo, Mexico’s largest evangelical congregation, said García “will continue ministering to the church. This is a path that God has placed in front of him for a reason, as he did for Apostle Paul.”

Three victims anonymously shared statements at García’s sentencing, with one describing how she functioned as a sex slave for the pastor and had been taught not to “refuse his desires.”

According to the Associated Press:

The victims spoke of how their delight at being invited into a secret inner circle with García quickly spun into an out-of-control nightmare of rape and other sexual abuse that they described at times in graphic detail.

They said they were called angels and told they were García’s property and that his wishes were godly commands and they should serve the Lord without question. Bible verses were twisted to make them comply.

But they were also told they would damned if they spoke out—and so would anybody they told.

All were disappointed that prosecutors were unable to take the case to trial so García could face the additional charges, which included rape, trafficking, and producing child abuse material.

García was sentenced to 16 years and 8 months in prison and will be required to register as a sex offender for life.

—————

Update (June 6, 2022): The head of the Mexico-based megachurch La Luz del Mundo admitted to sexually assaulting at least three minor girls who belonged to his congregation.

Naasón Joaquín García pleaded guilty Friday and was convicted following California’s four-year investigation into the pastor and his associates. The guity plea came just days before the case was scheduled to go to trial.

“As the leader of La Luz del Mundo, Naasón Joaquín García used his power to take advantage of children. He relied on those around him to groom congregants for the purposes of sexual assault,” said California Attorney General Rob Bonta. “Today’s conviction can never undo the harm, but it will help protect future generations.”

The pastor ended up convicted of three counts of sex offenses and lewd acts involving minor children. García’s former assistant, Susana Medina Oaxaca, also pleaded guilty and was convicted of assault likely to cause great bodily injury.

Some victims say García’s plea deal allows the self-proclaimed apostle to evade the full weight of his crimes. He pleaded guilty for three counts but had been charged with over a dozen more, including rape, trafficking, and extortion. He now no longer has to stand trial.

“How can they make a deal with a child rapist and human trafficker?” whistleblower Sochil Martin said in the Spanish-language newspaper El País. “Give us peace, not an agreement.”

According to the California Department of Justice, “Over the course of the investigation and prosecution, prosecutors demonstrated that García’s criminal conduct was enabled by the individuals surrounding him and that García used his position of trust and authority as the leader of La Luz del Mundo to sexually abuse children.” – CT editors

——-

July 31, 2020: California has once again charged the leader of a Mexican megachurch with child rape and human trafficking, months after a court dismissed the previous allegations because of prosecution errors.

Naasón Joaquín García, the self-proclaimed apostle of La Luz del Mundo, was charged on Wednesday with three dozen felony counts.

Also charged were Susana Medina Oaxaca and Alondra Ocampo.

Prosecutors contend the three committed sex crimes and also produced child pornography involving five women and girls who were church group members. The crimes took place between 2015 and 2018 in Los Angeles County, authorities said.

García is the spiritual leader of La Luz del Mundo, which is Spanish for “The Light Of The World,” an evangelical congregation based in Guadalajara, Mexico.

García and Ocampo already were being held in custody in Los Angeles County while prosecutors decided whether to refile charges. He was rebooked on $50 million bail and Ocampo was booked on $25 million bail, while Oaxaca remained free on bail, according to the California attorney general’s office.

Messages to their attorneys seeking comment weren’t immediately returned but García has previously denied wrongdoing.

——–

April 9, 2020, from the Associated Press: A California appeals court ordered the dismissal of a criminal case Tuesday against a Mexican megachurch leader on charges of child rape and human trafficking on procedural grounds.

Naasón Joaquín García, the self-proclaimed apostle of La Luz del Mundo, has been in custody since June following his arrest on accusations involving three girls and one woman between 2015 and 2018 in Los Angeles County. Additional allegations of the possession of child pornography in 2019 were later added. He has denied wrongdoing.

While being held without bail in Los Angeles, García has remained the spiritual leader of La Luz del Mundo, which is Spanish for “The Light of The World.” The Guadalajara, Mexico-based church was founded by his grandfather and claims 5 million followers worldwide.

It was not clear when he would be released.

The attorney general’s office said it was reviewing the court’s ruling and did not answer additional questions.

García’s attorney, Alan Jackson, said he and his client are “thrilled” by the decision.

“In their zeal to secure a conviction at any cost, the Attorney General has sought to strip Mr. Garcia of his freedom without due process by locking him up without bail on the basis of unsubstantiated accusations by unnamed accusers and by denying him his day in court,” Jackson said in a statement.

Damian Dovarganes / AP

La Luz del Mundo officials in a statement urged their followers to remain respectful and pray for authorities.

“(W)e are not to point fingers or accuse anyone, we must practice the Christian values that identify us, such as patience, prudence, respect, and love of God,” they said.

The appeals court ruling states that the Los Angeles County Superior Court must dismiss the 29 counts of felony charges that range from human trafficking and production of child pornography to forcible rape of a minor.

The appeals court ruled that because García’s preliminary hearing was not held in a timely manner and he did not waive his right to one, the complaint filed against him must be dismissed.

In June, García was arraigned on 26 counts and waived his right to a speedy preliminary hearing—a common move. The following month, he was arraigned on an amended complaint that included three additional charges of possession of child pornography. That time, he did not waive the time limits for a preliminary hearing.

His hearing was postponed several times—in some instances, because prosecutors had not turned over evidence to the defense—as he remained held without bail, prompting his attorneys to file an appeal.

The appeals court ruled that a preliminary hearing on an amended complaint for an in-custody defendant must be held within 10 days of the second arraignment—unless the defendant waives the 10-day time period or there is “good cause” for the delay.

The appeal only mentioned the dismissal of García’s case and not those of his co-defendants, Susana Medina Oaxaca and Alondra Ocampo. A fourth defendant, Azalea Rangel Melendez, remains at large.

It was not immediately clear if the co-defendants’ cases would also be tossed.

In February, a Southern California woman filed a federal lawsuit against the church and García. In it, she said García, 50, and his father sexually abused her for 18 years starting when she was 12, manipulating Bible passages to convince her the mistreatment actually was a gift from God.

The lawsuit will continue despite the dismissal, the woman’s lawyers said Tuesday in a statement.

The dismissal is the latest in a series of blunders on this high-profile case for the attorney general’s office.

Attorney General Xavier Becerra himself pleaded with additional victims to come forward—a move defense attorneys said could taint a jury pool.

“It would be hard to believe that, based on the information that we’re collecting, that it’s only these four individuals,” Becerra said in June, repeatedly calling García “sick” and “demented.”

Prosecutors Amanda Plisner and Diana Callaghan also said multiple times in court that they expected to file additional charges based on more victims as the case continued to be investigated. But ultimately they only added three counts of possession of child pornography to the original complaint.

Plisner and Callaghan were additionally sanctioned by a Superior Court judge in September, who said they had violated a court order in failing to give defense lawyers evidence. The judge later rescinded the sanctions and overturned $10,000 in fines she had levied.

- More from CT editors

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Wire Story

Half of Americans Rule Out Pentecostal Churches

Marissa Postell - Lifeway Research

Survey finds nondenominational churches have the least baggage in people’s minds.

Wendell and Carolyn / iStock / Getty Images

Most Americans are open to a variety of denominations of Christian churches, including many people of other faiths or no faith at all.

Americans have a wide range of opinions and impressions about Christian denominations, but most won’t rule out a church based on its denomination, according to a new study from Lifeway Research. From a list of nine denominational terms— Assemblies of God, Baptist, Catholic, Lutheran, Methodist, Pentecostal, Presbyterian, Southern Baptist, and nondenominational—more Americans rule out Pentecostal than any other denomination. Just over half of Americans (51%) say a church with Pentecostal in the name is not for them.

But for each of the other denominations in the study, most Americans say a specific religious label in the name of a church is not an automatic deterrent for them. Americans are most open to nondenominational and Baptist churches.

One in three (33%) say a church described as nondenominational is not for them, while 43 percent say the same about a church with Baptist in the name. A 2014 phone survey from Lifeway Research also found Baptist and nondenominational churches among those Americans were most open to and Pentecostal the denominational group they were least open to.

“Church names vary greatly,” said Scott McConnell, executive director of Lifeway Research. “Names including St. Peter, Trinity, Crossroads, and Presbyterian reflect biblical people, theology, modern imagery, or references to the branch of Christianity the church is tied to. Most people have preexisting impressions of denominational groups when they see them in a church name or description.”

https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/TDGcM

Americans have more favorable than unfavorable impressions of most denominations, whether they would personally attend a church of that denomination or not. More Americans have favorable impressions of Baptist churches (61%) than any other Christian denomination.

But Baptist churches are not alone in giving generally favorable impressions. Most Americans think favorably of every denomination in this study except for Pentecostal (47%) and Assemblies of God (43%) churches. Still, more people have favorable than unfavorable impressions of Pentecostal and Assemblies of God churches.

Understanding different denominations

For each denominational group studied, 11 percent to 32 percent of Americans say they are not familiar enough with that denomination to form an opinion. This response is often more common than unfavorable responses and may indicate many don’t understand denominational differences.

Fewer people have favorable impressions of Assemblies of God churches than any other denomination, but more Americans are unfamiliar with this denomination than any other. Whereas 1 in 10 (11%) Americans say they’re not familiar with Catholic churches, nearly 1 in 3 (32%) are not familiar with Assemblies of God churches, the smallest denomination directly asked about in the study.

The reputation of denominational groups may be tied to what someone knows about that group’s doctrine, but it also can be the sum of people’s impressions of local churches in those groups. — @smcconn

“The reputation of denominational groups may be tied to what someone knows about that group’s doctrine, but it also can be the sum of people’s impressions of local churches in those groups,” McConnell said. “Personal experiences with local churches, word-of-mouth, and whether they see them serving in their communities can lead people to have positive or negative impressions of those groups.”

Protestants tend toward Baptist and nondenominational churches

Most Protestants are open to attending a nondenominational church. Protestants are least likely to assume a church is not for them if the description nondenominational is used for the church (21%). And Protestants are most likely to have favorable impressions of Baptist (76%) and nondenominational (69%) churches.

Infrequent churchgoers are also generally open to nondenominational churches, as well as Presbyterian and Lutheran churches. Christians who attend a worship service less than once a month are least likely to say they assume a church is not for them when they see Presbyterian (36%), Lutheran (37%), or nondenominational (22%) in the name of a church.

Similarly, Christians who attend church infrequently are less familiar with the Protestant religious groups. Almost 4 in 10 Christians who attend less than once a month are not familiar with Assemblies of God (38%), more than a quarter are not sure about Lutheran and nondenominational churches (27%) and a quarter are unfamiliar with Pentecostal (25%), Presbyterian (25%), and Southern Baptist (25%). Christians who attend worship services less than once a month are least likely to say they have unfavorable impressions of Lutheran (15%) and nondenominational (10%) churches.

“Just because someone is a Christian doesn’t mean they’re familiar with the many types of Christian churches,” McConnell said. “If a person who identifies as a Christian is not interested enough to practice the faith by attending church, they likely aren’t interested enough to learn about historical or doctrinal differences between Christian groups.”

What’s in a name?

Denomination identifiers in the names of churches spark different responses among Americans. For non-Christians, three denomination names stand above the rest as deterrents for attending that church: Baptist, Lutheran, and Southern Baptist. People of other religions are most likely to say they assume a church is not for them when the name Baptist (63%), Lutheran (65%), or Southern Baptist (66%) is in the name of a church.

The majority of Catholics indicate most of the Protestant groups are not for them. Only Baptist (49%) and nondenominational churches (44%) are ruled out by less than half of Catholics. Similarly, 58 percent of Protestants assume a Catholic church is not for them.

Those who are religiously unaffiliated are most likely to have unfavorable impressions of Catholic (47%), Pentecostal (41%), and Southern Baptist (40%) churches. Although the religiously unaffiliated think most favorably about Baptist (36%) and nondenominational (36%) churches, the majority don’t think favorably of any denomination.

“The one group of Americans that consistently has more people with unfavorable than favorable views of different religious groups are those who are religiously unaffiliated,” McConnell said. “More of them have negative impressions of every group except for nondenominational churches.”

But faith isn’t the only factor in people’s impressions of churches. In some cases, ethnic, educational, and geographical factors play a role as well. People who live in the South are among those most open to Southern Baptist churches, as they are least likely to say they assume a church is not for them if the name Southern Baptist is in the name of the church (40%). Those in the South are also most likely to have favorable views of Baptist churches (70%).

Young people also often have strong impressions of denominations, most of them negative. Young people (age 18-34) are most likely to have unfavorable impressions of Catholic (39%), Methodist (33%), Presbyterian (33%), and Lutheran (35%) churches. They are also least likely to say they have favorable impressions of Southern Baptist churches (39%).

Hispanics are most likely to have unfavorable impressions of Methodist (38%), Southern Baptist (44%), Lutheran (37%), and Assemblies of God (35%) churches, while African Americans are most likely to have favorable views of Baptist churches (82%).

- More from Marissa Postell - Lifeway Research

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Looking for Independence from Western Funds, African Methodists Turn to Farming

Ryan Truscott

Church agricultural initiative is supporting rice, corn, pigs, and other crops from Liberia to Mozambique.

Dan Kitwood/Getty Images

The United Methodist Church (UMC) has approved grants worth $3.5 million to promote agriculture as churches within its African conferences seek to become less dependent on Western funds.

The money is being channeled through the Bishop Yambasu Agricultural Initiative (BYAI)—a project named in honor of John K. Yambasu, a leading figure in the church who died in a traffic accident in Freetown, Sierra Leone, two years ago.

Three million dollars has already been dispersed under BYAI to support projects in a dozen regional church conferences.

“The goal of this whole program is to develop financial self-sustainability in our annual conferences in Africa,” Roland Fernandes, general secretary of Global Ministries and the United Methodist Committee on Relief, told CT.

Launched in 2018, the initiative gained traction two years ago when Fernandes became the Global Ministries chief executive.

Projects supported by the initiative include rice farms and beekeeping in Liberia; fish farms in Ivory Coast; maize, cassava, and livestock in Angola; and pigs and market gardens in Mozambique.

“For me this is one of the flagship programs over the past two years since I’ve been general secretary,” Fernandes said. “That’s why we’re doubling the investment in it now. Africa is a big focus for us as an agency.”

Dependence on Western funds has become an urgent concern for African Methodists as the UMC has moved toward division over LGBT issues. Theologically, the African conferences align with the traditionalists who maintain that homosexual sex is a sin and marriage should only be between a man and a woman. But the traditionalists in the US also want to reduce their churches’ denominational giving, and progressives are likely to remain in control of the denominational structures that have financially supported African churches, making future funding uncertain.

More than 70 percent of the African conferences’ funding comes from the West, said Kepifri Lakoh, an agricultural consultant in Sierra Leone providing technical leadership for the initiative.

“That model is definitely not sustainable. So, it was out of an attempt to solve that problem that this vision was born, and the bishop [Yambasu] thought, Why not use the resources that are in Africa to actually generate revenue to sustain the church?”

The initiative is still in its early days. Different conferences are at different stages of the granting process, and agriculture takes time to bear fruit. But already there are promising signs. And it’s not just in the fields.

“We went into this with the objective that the conferences should learn a new approach or mode of engagement with Global Ministries,” Lakoh said. “It used to be that we’d give out grants and after they were finished, they’d come back and ask for more. Now we have cases where we’ve started getting inflows [from crops] in Sierra Leone. Those inflows are plowed back into the business.”

Money obtained from a first cycle of funding in Sierra Leone’s Moyamba and Pujehun districts—ranked among the poorest in the West African country—went toward the purchase of seeds. In the second cycle, earnings from the first rice crop were reinvested to scale up production and pay for seeds, fuel, and wages for a tractor driver.

In the 2021 season, farmers under the initiative grew close to 200 hectares (494 acres) of rice in Sierra Leone. This year they hope to grow 600 hectares (1,400 acres), and the project has now expanded to a third district—Tonkolili.

Ultimately, Global Ministries wants to see farming activities scaled up and commercialized throughout its conferences in West, East, and southern Africa.

Boosting household income and food security is hugely important in sub-Saharan Africa where, according to World Bank figures, 424 million people live on less than $2 per day.

In Sierra Leone, the BYAI’s support for smallholder farmers in communities surrounding church-owned land is a critical part of the strategy.

The conference helps farmers with seeds, tillage, and harvesting. In return the farmers support activities on the church-run farms, helping with planting, weeding, and scaring away birds.

“There is a community objective of increasing household incomes, so when we plow their land, we provide seeds for them and we will help them harvest. All the rice and proceeds from those farms stays 100 percent with the farming groups at the community level,” Lakoh said. “We had to make sure that the design is such that there is a symbiotic relationship between the community and the conference. That way you actually get ownership of the project at the community level and ownership at the conference level.”

Lorraine Charinda, a Zimbabwean missionary and project coordinator, runs day-to-day activities funded by the initiative on church-owned farms in the UMC’s North Katanga annual conference, in the Democratic Republic of Congo.

Charinda, whose professional training is in agribusiness and agricultural economics, said the grant they’ve received is being used to grow seed for food crops, including soya and maize. Maize is a staple in southeastern Haut-Lomami province, where she’s based in the capital, Kamina.

The soya and maize seeds they're growing, she says, are suited to local soil types and the province’s tropical climate. They should provide better yields at a lower cost than expensive imported varieties.

Under the first phase of the project, seed has been produced at one of the church’s 12 farms, which range in size from 250 to 1,000 hectares (600 to 2,400 acres).

Under the second phase, which started June 1, seed is being cleaned, graded, and packaged for sale to surrounding communities.

It will also be distributed to four other church farms to grow crops there. By the end of the project, they plan to grow crops and seed for maize, soya, and rice on all 12 of the conference’s farms, located in four districts.

Surrounding communities will benefit from cheaper inputs for their own crops and employment on the church-run farms.

The missionary said she and colleagues drew inspiration for their work from the story of the feeding of the 5,000. Like the five loaves and two fish, the project has started with something small but is working to expand to something far greater.

"It doesn’t matter who you are, what age you are, what gender you are, but everyone will benefit eventually from it," Charinda told CT.

For Fernandes, the Global Ministries general secretary, sustainability and local ownership of projects in Africa are guiding principles for the initiative that represents a move away from “the colonial approach” to how the church did mission in the past.

“We help them, but the program is owned technically by the local conferences,” he said. “The word we often use is ‘mutuality in mission.’ How do we both learn from each other?”

- More from Ryan Truscott

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Review

Should We Judge Thomas Jefferson by His Ideals or His Actions?

Daniel N. Gullotta

A new biography maps out the moral tensions that tormented his mind and tainted his legacy.

Illustration by Mallory Rentsch / Source Images: WikiMedia Commons

Thomas Jefferson continues to inspire and divide Americans. Even though he still ranks in the top 10 in C-SPAN’s Presidential Historians Survey, recent years have witnessed Jefferson’s name and image removed from schools, libraries, and the halls of government. Jefferson’s statue at his own University of Virginia served as a rallying point for white supremacists during the summer of 2017. All the while, Daveed Diggs’s flamboyant portrayal of him in the musical Hamilton was winning acclaim on Broadway.

Thomas Jefferson: A Biography of Spirit and Flesh

Thomas S. Kidd (Author)

320 pages

$22.60

Much of this controversy stems from Jefferson’s dual identity as the author of the Declaration of Independence and his status as one of the nation’s most prominent slaveholders. Add to this the unsettling reality that Jefferson fathered at least six children with an enslaved woman, Sally Hemings, and it’s little wonder that many Americans find themselves wondering how such a man could have penned the words “All men are created equal.” With the 250th anniversary of the American Revolution looming, it is difficult to predict if and how Jefferson’s name will be invoked.

For many, Jefferson’s life is nothing but a testimony to his own hypocrisy, while others see Jefferson as a visionary bound to the conditions of his time. The latest book from historian Thomas Kidd, Thomas Jefferson: A Biography of Spirit and Flesh, attempts to shed light on Jefferson’s puzzling philosophy and problematic past.

Dilemmas and dramas

Kidd’s goal is not to write a new life story of Jefferson, but rather to illuminate and grapple with his ethical and moral universe. Because of this, Kidd’s biography is amazingly (and mercifully) succinct, at least compared to the mammoth accounts produced by other historians. Whereas political battles frame most Jefferson biographies, moral tensions and intellectual conflicts dominate Kidd’s telling.

Using a loose chronology of Jefferson’s life and times, Kidd situates readers to the dilemmas and dramas defining his thought at any given time, from Christian orthodoxy to romantic pursuits to slavery. Mapping out the main influencers on Jefferson’s thought—such as John Locke and Algernon Sidney on the Declaration of Independence, Montesquieu on colonization and racial separation, and the trappings of the South’s honor culture—Kidd helps readers understand the makeup of Jefferson’s brain on any given subject.

In short, A Biography of Spirit and Flesh is devoted to following Jefferson’s intellectual and religious development, both in terms of its sources as well as its evolution in different spaces and situations.

Given Kidd’s status as one of today’s most popular and preeminent Christian historians, his take on Jefferson’s religious profile also serves as a vital corrective to the pseudohistory produced by figures like David Barton, who promote an uncomplicated synthesis between Christianity and the American founding. Granted, Kidd’s Jefferson is no secularist champion, and this book rejects the easy pigeonholing of Jefferson as a mere deist. Though he was surely heterodox in rejecting doctrines like the Trinity, he truly saw himself as a follower of Jesus and was devoted to a “naturalistic” vision of Christianity.

Likewise, Kidd pushes back against the idea that the Declaration was intended as a purely secular document and that its references to God were added later by the Continental Congress. As he highlights, “Nature’s God” was already in Jefferson’s draft of the document, a reference to his belief in a creator god. Kidd is at his best when probing Jefferson’s soul searching, illustrating his doubts, and mapping his beliefs.

If one word has haunted (and been hurled at) Jefferson more than any other, it would be hypocrite, a word Kidd is not afraid to employ when appropriate. Naturally, Jefferson’s status as an enslaver with antislavery sentiments is the most perplexing paradox, but as Kidd demonstrates, Jefferson was capable of a multitude of ambiguities and contradictions. For example, despite his antipathy towards many conventional forms of religious devotion, Jefferson maintained that traditional religion had its benefits for society. And notwithstanding his disregard for the Bible’s miracle accounts, Jefferson was deeply conversant with its stories and even attempted to produce his own version of the Gospels, known today as the “Jefferson Bible.”

Another area of hypocrisy was the financial realm, where Jefferson was truly duplicitous. He indulged in lavish wines, a steady supply of new books, and ambitious architecture, all while advocating the virtue of frugality to family and friends. Though he neared financial ruin on several occasions, Jefferson seemed incapable of heeding his own wisdom. Acknowledging this shortcoming, Jefferson confessed to James Monroe that “I had rather be ruined in my fortune than in their esteem.”

But it is precisely this financial recklessness that further entrenched Jefferson into slavery. Although he called slavery a “moral depravity,” his mounting debts and his genteel pride made escaping it improbable. Kidd compares Jefferson’s attitudes on slavery to a “high-wire act,” rightly pointing out that even by the standards of his own time and in the eyes of many of his contemporaries, his views on slavery were often strained and frequently contradictory. George Washington, who bore financial burdens of his own, took at least modest acts against slavery within his own estate. Measured against them, Jefferson’s inaction appears all the more indefensible.

Yet, as Kidd chronicles, Jefferson’s language in the Declaration was used almost instantly to denounce Black bondage by figures like James Otis and Lemuel Haynes, and by various antislavery societies. There is even evidence that Jefferson’s message of liberty may have inspired Gabriel’s Rebellion, a slave uprising planned for Richmond, Virginia, in 1800. Nevertheless, while he could sympathize with enslaved people who sought their freedom by any means necessary, Jefferson viewed the Haitian Revolution with horror, not as a continuation of his own revolution.

Willing spirit, weak flesh

No doubt accusations of hypocrisy will continue to hound Jefferson, and rightly so. After reading Kidd’s biography, another epithet that comes to mind is cowardly. In another display of contradictions and tensions, the revolutionary Jefferson was mindful of his peers and cautious of unknowable outcomes. His spirit may have been willing, but his flesh was abominably weak.

Kidd’s Jefferson isn’t a moral monster, but he’s certainly no saint either. He emerges from this biography not as a confident but flawed statesman, but rather a conflicted, uncertain, and sometimes craven worldling. Many of the issues that tormented Jefferson’s mind were left unresolved, often in part through his own inaction or aversion to conflict. Abraham Lincoln may have declared “all honor to Jefferson,” but in the case of slavery, it would take a civil war, fought by men braver than Jefferson, to settle the matter once and for all.

Compared to the ocean of Jefferson biographies written by figures ranging from Christopher Hitchens to Jon Meacham, Kidd’s volume shies away from treating his subject as an exemplary leader. He admits that his take on Jefferson is more “ambivalent” than most, a position that will likely upset readers eager for iconoclasm or hagiography. After all, as Kidd warns, “The Founders, including Jefferson, were hardly pristine saints. But maybe we’re not either.” Or, as Jefferson remarked to his daughter Martha, referencing Romans 3, “For none of us, no not one, is perfect.”

Daniel N. Gullotta is the Archer Fellow in Residence at the Ashbrook Center at Ashland University, and a PhD candidate at Stanford University specializing in American religious history. He is the host of The Age of Jackson Podcast.

- More from Daniel N. Gullotta

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Will US List Nigeria Again After Latest Religious Freedom Report?

Jayson Casper

Secretary Blinken warns Nigeria, Afghanistan, and other nations with unchecked violations, while USCIRF recommends additional countries of particular concern.

Secretary of State Antony Blinken, with Ambassador-at-Large for International Religious Freedom Rashad Hussain, delivers remarks on the 2021 Report on International Religious Freedom at the US Department of State on June 2, 2022.

Ron Przysucha / US Department of State

Nigeria—and a few other nations—are on alert.

The US Department of State released its 2021 annual report on international religious freedom (IRF) last week, describing conditions in nearly 200 nations. Delivering remarks from the Benjamin Franklin room—where US ambassadors are sworn into service—Secretary of State Antony Blinken presented a litany of well-known offenders.

China, he said, continues its genocide against Uighur Muslims.

Saudi Arabia makes illegal the practice of any faith besides Islam.

Pakistan sentences people to death for blasphemy.

And Eritrea demands renunciation of faith to release the arrested members of religious minorities.

“Respect for religious freedom isn’t only one of the deepest held values and a fundamental right,” Blinken stated. “It’s also, from my perspective, a vital foreign policy priority.”

Last November, these four nations were among the 10 Blinken designated as countries of particular concern (CPC). A separate special watch list (SWL) listed four more: Algeria, Comoros, Cuba, and Nicaragua.

But three days after the IRF report release, a terrorist attack in Nigeria highlighted its omission. Dozens of Christians were gunned down in a Catholic church on Pentecost Sunday. And one month earlier, a Christian college student was murdered by a mob over her alleged blasphemy against Islam.

Back in April, the independent US Commission on International Religious Freedom (USCIRF) released its own list of nonbinding CPC recommendations, reminding Blinken it was “appalled” at the omission of Nigeria.

After listing Africa’s most populous nation as a CPC for the first time in 2020, the State Department removed Nigeria’s stigma entirely in 2021, not even downgrading the nation to SWL status.

Recently appointed USCIRF commissioner David Curry expressed his disappointment.

“The Nigerian government is clearly in violation of international law in that they have grievously allowed the entire northern region of their country to be a no-go zone for Christians,” said the CEO of Open Doors USA, urging President Joe Biden to take action.

“Governments need to know that they won’t have business as usual with the United States as long as they’re perpetrating or allowing the brutal persecution of Christians and other people of faith.”

Nigeria is ranked No. 7 on Open Doors’ annual World Watch List (WWL) of nations where it is hardest to be a Christian.

During the June 2 release, Blinken did call out one of USCIRF’s five CPC recommendations among the above pariahs. In Afghanistan, religious freedom conditions have deteriorated rapidly under the Taliban, he said, while the local ISIS branch increasingly targets religious minorities, especially the Shiite Hazara.

Perhaps conscious of USCIRF’s other CPC recommendations, he cited three more nations where religious freedom is “under threat”:

India witnesses rising attacks on houses of worship.
Vietnam harasses unregistered religious communities.
Nigeria has several state governments where blasphemy laws are used to punish people for expressing their beliefs.

Blinken offered no comments on Syria, USCIRF’s remaining recommendation.

Rashad Hussain, the first Muslim to serve as US ambassador-at-large for international religious freedom, specified “Christians” as those under threat in Nigeria.

He also cited North Korea and Saudi Arabia for abuse, with Nicaragua guilty of oppressing Catholics. Appointed last December, Hussain identified additional religious groups facing persecution: Jews in Europe, Bahá’ís in Iran, and Jehovah’s Witnesses in Russia.

Russia was added as a CPC last year; USCIRF had recommended it since 2017.

Hussain lauded the 2,000-page IRF report as consistent with America’s founding as a nation by individuals fleeing religious persecution. It “gives voice” to those today who are “killed, beaten, threatened, harassed, or jailed” simply for exercising their beliefs according to conscience.

“The United States will continue to stand for those who are oppressed all over the world,” he promised. “Religion can be such a powerful force for good, and it should never be used to harm people.”

Hussain identified three themes in this year’s IRF report. First, too many governments abuse their own people, he said. Second, social intolerance—often fueled by social media—is resulting in increased antisemitism, anti-Muslim hatred, and xenophobia.

Yet third, there are powerful signs of collaboration on religious freedom—between governments, civil society, and religious leaders. He mentioned his own work with the 2016 Marrakesh Declaration, affirming the rights of Christians in Muslim-majority nations and the 2011 Istanbul Process, which rejects the criminalization of blasphemy.

“We have more partners in this effort now than ever before,” Hussain said.

In 1998, the US Congress was the first nation to mandate issuance of an annual religious freedom report, Blinken said. Today he counts 35 government and multilateral organizations dedicated to the same goal.

He also highlighted success stories:

Morocco now includes Jewish history in its school curriculum.
Taiwan facilitates accountability when day of worship requests are refused.
Timor-Leste’s new president pledged to defend religious minority rights.
Iraq took strides to welcome Pope Francis in the first ever papal visit to the country, where he conducted Christian and interfaith ceremonies.

Might Nigeria and Afghanistan be lauded next year—or listed as CPCs by year’s end?

“The United States will continue to stand up for religious freedom around the world,” said Blinken. “At its core, our work is about ensuring that all people have the freedom to pursue the spiritual tradition that most adds meaning to their time on Earth.”

- More from Jayson Casper

Books

To Put on the Armor of God, We Have to Take Off the ‘Armor of Me’

J. D. Peabody

Thérèse of Lisieux teaches us to have childlike faith and stop protecting our vulnerabilities.

Illustration by Mallory Rentsch / Source Images: WikiMedia Commons / Jonny Gios / Unsplash

I have a Bible from my youth, one I purchased for myself when I was in middle school. I underlined a number of verses during those formative years of adolescence. Flipping through the pages now, I see a common thread in the passages I singled out. They are predominantly calls to action, the instructional sections that mapped out an identifiable way for me to feel I was doing enough to satisfy God.

One of my greatest recurring anxieties is the possibility that I might in some way not be taking my sin seriously enough. That sounds ultraspiritual, but it is more fear-driven than pious. I review not just my actions but every internal agenda, and I come to the same conclusion as Jeremiah: The heart is a convoluted mess (Jer. 17:9). I scrape my mind for any residue of wrong that might need to be confessed and eradicated, only to discover new twisted layers underneath. Pulling the lid off of my soul felt like staring into a bottomless cauldron of horrors.

It never occurs to me in the midst of all the soul-scrubbing that perhaps part of what God desires for me is freedom from the self-loathing and cruel harshness that tries to pass itself off as making me more like him. The very self-admonishment I equate with holiness is in fact distorting my perception of God.

Pursuing the path of taking “full responsibility” for my sin only pushes me toward despair, because I find that the problem is deeper and more pervasive in me than I can begin to address (“Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me”—Romans 7:21). I am unable to discern my true motivations with certainty. The more I dissect my confessions, the less adequate they seem, pulling me further down the rabbit hole of introspection.

My attempts to fully own my sin end up competing with my ability to accept what Christ did on my behalf. He went to the cross precisely because we are all incapable of taking full responsibility for our own sin.

Martin Luther addressed the fallacy of such thinking: “This attitude springs from a false conception of sin, the conception that sin is a small matter, easily taken care of by good works; that we must present ourselves unto God with a good conscience; that we must feel no sin before we may feel that Christ was given for our sins.”

The alternative to being responsible is not being irresponsible—it is trusting God with the responsibility, the way a child trusts a parent with their care.

In his book exploring OCD and faith, Ian Osborn shares the story of Thérèse of Lisieux. Thérèse was born in the late 19th century. She was about as thoroughly religious as someone can be. She received her education in a Benedictine school, then went on to become a Carmelite nun. Carmelites maintain a very strict lifestyle, praying for long hours every day, enduring very ascetic conditions, and observing complete silence for extended periods. If anybody exemplified diligently working to put on their own armor, it was Thérèse.

Despite her devotion, uncontrollable doubts and fears haunted her. She tried performing severe acts of self-punishment to counter what was happening in her mind, but the effort provided no comfort to her conscience.

Unable to find any method of alleviating her mental distress, Thérèse concluded she needed a fundamentally different approach to God. After much prayer and reflection on Scripture, she developed what she came to call “the Little Way.”

It was a radical departure from the rigid moralism of her time. She focused on all the verses that portray God caring for the small and humble—like Matthew 18:3: “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

Thérèse concluded that God’s primary request of her was to remember her own smallness. Rather than cultivate self-sufficiency, she sought to adopt the attitude of a young child relying on a parent for everything.

Illustration by Mallory Rentsch / Source Images: WikiMedia Commons

Thérèse of Lisieux

Initially, the Little Way sounds as if it goes against everything young Christians are taught about healthy discipleship. Scripture admonishes us to “grow up in every way” and to not be “infants, tossed back and forth” (Eph. 4:14–15). Where does maturity come into play if we are staying small?

Thérèse’s point was not to encourage us to stay stuck in some kind of stunted development, but to remain in a state of total dependence. Rather than working hard to move past the need for more grace, we embrace our perpetual reliance on it.

What does staying small look like? Author Pia Mellody identified five essential characteristics that describe the natural state of a child:

Valuable: Every child has inherent worth.

Vulnerable: Children need care and protection.

Imperfect: Learning and making mistakes are part of growing up.

Dependent: Children should not need to fend for themselves.

Immature: Expectations need to be age appropriate.

All these characteristics translate equally well to describe what it looks like to live as God’s children. Do we believe we are of great value to him? Can we acknowledge and accept our vulnerability? Could we allow our imperfection? What about choosing to count on God instead of feverishly attempting to measure up? And are we able to show grace to ourselves, knowing our faith is still developing and we do not yet see what we will become?

It was C. S. Lewis who said, “When I became a man, I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.”

Spiritual maturity never means independence. And God does not call us to count on our own self-protection. Instead, he offers us something completely different. Isaiah tells us this:

The Lord looked and was displeased that there was no justice. He saw that there was no one, he was appalled that there was no one to intervene; so his own arm worked salvation for him, and his own righteousness sustained him. He put on righteousness as his breastplate, and the helmet of salvation on his head. (Isa. 59:15–17)

Here, the armor of God is worn by none other than God himself. He puts it on to bring the salvation nobody else could make happen. It is rescue. It is powerful. It is swift and sure. The armor represents God’s action on our behalf.

This way of looking at it changes everything. It means when we take up (or sink into) the armor of God, we are not simply grabbing a resource he has put at our disposal to grow our own righteousness. We are letting God outfit us with what he’s done for us. We are choosing to stay small and rely solely on his efforts for our defense.

I have multiple options I go to regularly when I am in self-preservation mode. I call it the Armor of Me, which includes the Belt of Denial, the Breastplate of Humor, Feet Ready with a Plan of Escape, the Shield of Perfectionism, the Helmet of Avoidance, and the Sword of Blame. My armor has many additional elements God’s doesn’t offer, such as the shoulder pads of delusion, the face mask of people-pleasing, and the shin guards of distraction.

Psychologists would refer to these components as feelings defenses—ways of shielding ourselves from the pain of difficult emotions. And in times of trauma, they prove incredibly valuable. Feelings defenses are a God-given measure of safety and relief when the world is unbearable.

We pick them up when we are very young, and they become so ingrained in our responses that they are almost instinctual. A threat appears, and immediately our defenses are right there to meet it.

But over time, they outstay their usefulness. We begin to live in them permanently. They start to shape our choices regardless of the situation. That’s when they become armor, a second skin we never shed. The humor that served well to break tension during a quarrel now stands in the way when anyone tries to get close. The “happy place” in your mind that got you through a crisis soon occupies all your thoughts and makes real life look even more miserable. The perfectionism that rewarded you with a job well done turns into an unrelenting, daily taskmaster.

If I’m going to wear the armor of God, I first need to remove the Armor of Me. I can’t hold the shield of perfectionism and the shield of faith at the same time. The belt of truth won’t fit if I’m wrapped in denial.

I have been trying to wear both, to supplement God’s armor with a secondary layer of protection. I thought it was helping, and instead it is just in the way. That means unlearning patterns that have become second nature.

To return to the “Little Way” of Thérèse, staying small means there is a moment of trust required as we let go of the defense systems we’ve adopted to feel safe and avoid overwhelming feelings. We hand responsibility for our well-being back to God, our good and loving Father.

Once I became aware of all these defenses I was using, I started after them with a vengeance. Removing the Armor of Me became my all-consuming mission. This quickly took me to a place of self-loathing, because I discovered just how tightly I had wrapped my armor around me and how difficult it was to step out of it. I became highly frustrated and ashamed over my lack of progress. The anxiety over attempting to change intensified. I felt this huge responsibility to fix myself, and I couldn’t do it.

But maybe instead of shutting down, I could invite God to help me ask questions. What was generating my fears? What was sending my very being into so much panic? If I could identify and care for those places, my self-protection mechanisms might begin dissolving on their own. My mind and body would no longer need to be on constant high alert because the perceived threat would no longer feel as threatening.

It all needs time. A friend of mine who struggles with alcoholism once described the journey to recovery as “10 miles in, 10 miles out.” We cannot rush through what is a lifelong process.

And our need for help changing becomes one more opportunity to stay small. We can entrust the work of being transformed to God, letting Jesus replace our backwards, inside-out armor with his garments of praise.

J. D. Peabody is a writer and lead pastor of New Day Church in Federal Way, Washington. This essay is adapted from Perfectly Suited: The Armor of God for the Anxious Mind by J. D. Peabody. © Aspire Press, a division of Tyndale Publishing House (2022).

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News

Owo Church Attack Kills Dozens of Nigerian Catholics on Pentecost Sunday

Morning Star News and Jayson Casper

(UPDATED) Terrorists target Mass in Ondo, a normally peaceful southwestern state which recently passed grazing restrictions affecting Fulani herdsmen.

Ondo state governor Rotimi Akeredolu (third from left) points to the bloodstained floor after an attack by gunmen at St. Francis Catholic Church in Owo town, southwest Nigeria on June 5, 2022.

AFP

ABUJA, Nigeria – Terrorists launched a gun and bomb attack at the end of a Catholic Mass in southwest Nigeria on Sunday, killing an estimated 70 worshipers according to residents and church leaders.

The terrorists attacked St. Francis Xavier Catholic Church in Owo, Ondo state, at about 9 a.m., church leaders and residents told Morning Star News (MSN) through text messages.

The carnage could have been greater. The church, one of the largest in the area, can hold up to 1,200 people and was full at the time of the attack.

A priest at the church, Andrew Abayomi, told MSN that as the worship service was coming to an end, the terrorists threw explosive devices and shot at worshipers.

“We were in worship Mass when the terrorists attacked us. They shot at the congregation while breaking into the church by throwing improvised explosive devices at the church building,” Abayomi said. “Some of us hid inside the church as they shot randomly at us. This lasted for about 20 minutes before they retreated.”

He said it was difficult to give details about the number killed and injured, as leaders were focusing on transferring the wounded to hospitals. Circulated videos showed bloody images of men, women, and children strewed among the pews.

Among other Owo residents, Loye Owolemi said about 70 worshipers were shot dead and others abducted when terrorists attacked the church service.

The Associated Press reported that one kidnapping victim was the presiding priest. Pope Francis was aware, stated the Vatican, and is praying.

Nigeria, ranked No. 7 on Open Doors’ 2022 World Watch List (WWL), led the world in Christians killed for their faith last year at 4,650 (from October 1, 2020 to September 30, 2021), up from 3,530 the previous reporting period. The West African nation’s 470 attacks on churches trailed only China’s tally.

The Ondo governor, Arakunrin Oluwarotimi Akeredolu, said it was a “black Sunday” in Owo.

“Our hearts are heavy. Our peace and tranquility have been attacked by the enemies of the people,” said Akeredolu in a press statement. “This is a personal loss, an attack on our dear state. … I am shocked to say the least.

“Nevertheless, we shall commit every available resource to hunt down these assailants and make them pay,” said the governor. “We shall never bow to the machinations of heartless elements in our resolve to rid our state of criminals.”

https://twitter.com/RotimiAkeredolu/status/1533542047008833538

While no one immediately took responsibility for the assault, predominantly Muslim Fulani herdsmen were suspected, said Adeyemi Olayemi, a lawmaker in Ondo. Such kidnappings and killings are usually associated with northern Nigeria, but a recent local uptick in otherwise peaceful Ondo prompted the state government to implement restrictions on grazing last August.

The bill also established a framework for the construction of ranches.

“We have enjoyed improved security since herdsmen were driven away from our forests by this administration,” Olayemi reportedly said. “This is a reprisal attack to send a diabolical message to the governor.”

Akeredolu is from Owo.

Muhammadu Buhari, Nigeria’s president, condemned the atrocity.

“No matter what, this country shall never give in to evil and wicked people, and darkness will never overcome light,” Buhari said. “Nigeria will eventually win.”

Anselm Ologunwa, the Ondo state chairman for the Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN), said “nowhere is safe in Nigeria.” He linked the Owo massacre to the April attack on a northward train from Abuja, the national capital, that killed nine and kidnapped dozens. He also cited last month’s abduction of a Methodist prelate.

After its leader was seized in the southeastern state of Abia, the Methodist church paid $240,000 for the release of Samuel Kanu-Uche and two fellow pastors.

And two days before the Catholic church massacre, CAN stated that armed assailants had attacked the residence of Yusuf Ashafa, a Baptist pastor in Kachia in the northern state of Kaduna. The kidnappers are demanding $96,000 to release the pastor’s five children and an elderly man.

The Nigerian Senate recently passed legislation to criminalize ransom payments, with 15 years imprisonment. Buhari has not yet indicated if he will sign it into law.

Open Doors’ WWL ranks Nigeria first on its list of Christians kidnapped, with more than 2,500 tallied last year. And since 2020, UNICEF counts at least 1,500 students abducted in the northern regions.

https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/F4iqx

“This is raw persecution,” said Israel Akanji, president of the Nigerian Baptist Association, on the Owo killings. “These people are possessed, demonic, and are not working for the good of the country. May God descend and fight [them] from their roots.”

John Hayab, president of Kaduna’s CAN chapter, questioned to CT the paying of ransoms—saying most churches would be unable to do so. And he faulted the government for its rhetorical response without offering concrete action to change the security realities.

Testimony Onifade, senior special assistant to CAN’s president, was livid. Ransom money is better used to arm the community, he told CT. And ordinary believers, he believes, are outraged enough to agree.

“How long shall we wait, watching them kill our people, and then give them our money to buy more guns?” he asked. “Christianity does not mean stupidity.”

Gideon Para-Mallam, head of an eponymous peace foundation, said church leaders must immediately visit the area to provide spiritual and humanitarian support. Uniting in prayer, such early intervention will calm the situation and prevent retaliatory violence.

But ransom payments, he said, are inevitable.

“The government is like the ostrich with its head in the ground, leaving citizens defenseless,” said the former Jos-based Africa ambassador for the International Fellowship of Evangelical Students. “Nigerians have been left to the mercies of kidnappers and terrorists, and it is only an academic exercise to suggest criminalization will make a difference.”

The president of the Catholic Laity Council of Nigeria called similarly for the youth to not take the law into their own hands. But in calling on the authorities to stop national violence, he warned that their failure pushes in the direction of Onifade’s view.

“I want to categorically state here again that as believers in Christ Jesus, we are called to be peace-loving people and to preach it with both words and actions,” said Henry Yunkwap. “But that does not mean we shouldn’t be sensitive to happenings around us and take action when necessary.”

As Christians, they have had enough.

“Any government who cannot provide security for her people,” he continued, “is indirectly telling them to defend themselves, by whatever means they can.”

These “animals in human form,” stated the Catholic press statement, are suspected to be bandits. Yunkwap differentiated them from the religious extremists who killed Deborah Samuel, the college student attacked by a mob for her alleged blasphemy.

Numbering in the millions across Nigeria and the Sahel, the predominantly Muslim Fulani comprise hundreds of clans of many different lineages who do not hold extremist views. But some Fulani do adhere to radical Islamist ideology, the United Kingdom’s All-Party Parliamentary Group for International Freedom or Belief (APPG) noted in a recent report.

“They adopt a comparable strategy to Boko Haram and ISWAP (Islamic State West Africa Province) and demonstrate a clear intent to target Christians and potent symbols of Christian identity,” the APPG report states.

Christian leaders in Nigeria have said they believe herdsmen attacks on Christian communities in Nigeria’s Middle Belt are inspired by their desire to forcefully take over Christians’ lands and impose Islam, as desertification has made it difficult to sustain their herds.

But as the nation struggles now for a just solution, the president of CAN eyed the future eschatological peace.

“What happened today was a carnage and irreparable disaster,” said Samson Ayokunle. “The end of the age has come, and the devil is on the prowl. As the Lord lives and reigns, the devil will not go far—but be disgraced in the end.”

First published at Morning Star News. Additional reporting by Jayson Casper.

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Ideas

White Churches, It’s Time to Go Pro-Life on Guns

Charlie Dates

The Christian majority in America needs to shake off its malaise and work with Black pastors to end shooting violence.

Yuki Iwamura / Getty

Chicago might be a strange perch from which to write this appeal for gun reform. After all, Governor Greg Abbott of Texas recently invoked that well-established dog whistle and the refuge of Republican politicians and many of their Christian supporters: the deaths of Black kids due to gun violence in Chicago. For them, my city is proof positive that gun laws don’t work.

But here I sit, as one of Chicago’s young pastors at one of its most historic Black churches, bidding for a favorable response from the larger, politically dominant, white evangelical denominations in America.

I write to them because these denominations, like the Southern Baptist Convention, are politically influential in states with senators who could, if pressured by their base, be moved to act. They have swung elections in the past, when issues important to them drove them to the ballot box. These senators and representatives might not listen to a Black pastor in Chicago, but they will listen to a cluster of white pastors in Georgia, Florida, Alabama, and Tennessee.

I am not the first Black pastor to appeal to the white Christian majority to shake off their malaise and address pressing issues of justice. Martin Luther King Jr. made a similar appeal in 1963 from another unlikely place: a Birmingham jail. The issues are different, but the admonition is the same. There must be some white Christians of goodwill who sense that something is terribly wrong with gun violence among the children in our nation.

About 30 years ago, The Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) began an aggressive recruitment of young Black clergy. Their seminaries sought young Black aspiring ministers who had no direct experience with the troubled racial history of their denomination. They offered money, jobs, and missional networks meant to help these pastors fulfill the Great Commission. SBC conferences started to intentionally feature speakers of color.

Linked to this invitation to preach the gospel together came an entreaty. Black pastors and their churches were to adopt the political agenda of the so-called moral majority. Their political agenda was presented as a litmus test for theological fidelity.

If you are true to the God of the Bible, they said, you had to affirm that abortion, adoption, pornography, and the war on drugs were the key moral issues framing the American social landscape. They deemed these issues “Christian” while labeling a host of other concerns plaguing my community as “political” and “divisive.”

The topic of gun violence, for example, has always been placed in the category of politics, but it is now considered the leading cause of death for children in this country.

In an era when hopes for interracial cooperation waxed high, Black pastors and churches migrated into dual affiliation. They did not leave their Black denominational homes of the National Baptist Convention or the Progressive National Baptist Convention. They merged both worlds as a signal of racial reconciliation. Enduring their cross and despising their shame, they sat down at the table of brotherhood.

Since then, 30 years have passed, and as far as I can measure, we are probably more divided socially and ethnically, if not politically, than we were back then.

The Black church has heard your requests for unity in fellowship and solidarity on public moral arguments. We have watched you parade the case for the unborn as the single greatest civic concern of our time. Some of us have even lent the credibility of our ministries to urge our politicians toward a more virtuous ethic. Even more of us facilitate organizations that care for women facing unplanned pregnancies. In good faith, we have joined our cause with yours.

Now we ask the same of you.

It is not our senators—those from our city-zoned districts—who reject universal background checks on the purchases of firearms. It is not our congressional leaders—those who attend our churches and speak at our back-to-school events—who are standing in the way of legislation that could prevent the next mass school shooting. It is yours. Your senators, who serve in your districts, sit in your pews, and listen to your preaching—they are the greatest antagonists to a real pro-life, anti-school-shootings agenda.

You have asked us to join in the fight for pro-life legislation, and now we ask you to do the same. Be pro-life by urging your congressional leaders to protect the lives of school kids who die at the force of weapons too easily placed in the wrong hands. Urge your senators to pass morally upright gun legislation. Be true to the same book you preach on Sunday.

We have waited for you to use your influence to lobby Congress for better school funding, access to quality health care, and food security. We have waited for you to denounce the alt-right racism that made a playboy a president. We have waited for you to declare that our lives matter. Now every American child is waiting on you to use your influence to protect them.

In short, I think you should leave Chicago’s name out of your mouth until you understand the forces that shape this city.

We are not your rhetorical whipping boy, trotted out for another session of mockery that serves your political ends. We are not your minstrel show, played on repeat on your news channels as a way to reinforce tropes about the inherent dangerousness of Black people. We see what you are doing and name it for what it is: racism. We know that you do not actually care about the Black lives lost to gun violence here. If you did, you wouldn’t use dead Black boys and girls as a political tool. You would see their tragic deaths as a catalyst for action.

Chicago is a border colony. Illinois is a gun-restrictive state. Studies have shown that nearly 60 percent of guns connected to crimes in Chicago arrive through Republican states. The loose privileges of others have a direct, negative, and destructive effect on us. And while there is no excuse for the murder rate in Chicago, there is also no excuse for decades of divestment and inferior schools.

There is no excuse for redlining and gentrification that imprison entire family lines. There is no excuse for new multimillion-dollar marijuana stores owned and operated by white men—selling the same marijuana that criminalized successive generations of Black men—who work without penalty and with permission.

Why is Chicago the scapegoat? It is because Chicago is code for Black.

What is rarely mentioned is the hard work of pastors and religious leaders on the ground in this city. When you talk about Chicago, talk about Breakthrough Urban Ministries in Garfield Park, a ministry that has rebuilt an entire neighborhood through housing, recreation, homeless intervention, and counseling services.

Talk about the work of Together Chicago, a new multipronged consortium of pastors, business leaders, community organizers, and educators reducing violence and building businesses. If you talk about Chicago, talk about James Meeks and the Salem Baptist Church of Chicago, which decreased violence by voting their neighborhood dry for two decades.

Chicago is an easy trope for those who do not know the story here.

I better understand why Martin Luther King Jr. took pen to paper in that Birmingham jail. When the laws that should liberate you imprison you, the one person a pastor expects to help him is another pastor. It’s frustrating that some of those who stand in the way of human flourishing are those sermonizing the imago Dei into a political talking point.

So I write my own letter from Chicago with the aid of these pastors listed below. We need you, our white evangelical brothers and sisters, to move your politicians to save our schools from another shooting.

Charlie Dates is senior pastor at Chicago’s Progressive Baptist Church. He holds a PhD in historical theology from Trinity Evangelical Divinity School. This letter was written with support from the following pastors: James Meeks, Salem Baptist Church of Chicago; Horace Smith, Apostolic Faith Church, Chicago; Otis Moss, Trinity United Church of Christ; Watson Jones, Compassion Baptist Church; David Swanson, New Community Covenant Church, Chicago; Ralph West, The Church Without Walls, Houston.

Speaking Out is Christianity Today’s guest opinion column and (unlike an editorial) does not necessarily represent the opinion of the publication.

- More from Charlie Dates

Church Life

When Being Helped Hurts

Jennifer Holmes Curran

My experience on the receiving end of a mission trip taught me you can’t force love on a community.

Illustration by Mallory Rentsch / Source Images: the_burtons / Getty

When we got a phone call from a larger, wealthier church from a larger, wealthier town offering a service project a few years ago, we readily accepted. For several years my husband Tony and I copastored a small, rural church that had many needs. The other church had a group of middle- and high-school students coming to our area to attend a camp, and some of them wanted to volunteer to work in their afternoons and pay for the supplies.

It seemed like a great idea. As teens, Tony and I had participated in similar service projects, so we were excited to be a part of this one. But we had always been on the giving side, never on the receiving side.

Our elders got together with pastors from the other church and made a plan: Paint the walls and the deck, paint the grid in the drop ceiling, tear out some bushes, put in a patio, plant flowers, clean out the yard, and put in new glass doors for the front entrance. The pastor threw around dollar amounts to donate that seemed outrageous to us.

The kids were eager to help. They gave up their afternoon camp activities—waterskiing, ziplining, etc.—to serve us. And we were genuinely grateful. But the gift began to feel complicated.

It was small things, like the paint drips on our carpet. No one would expect a middle-schooler to be careful enough not to drip, or even to remember to use a drop cloth. But the adults with them didn’t seem to notice either, even as they watched Tony and me crouch on the floor to scrub out the spots. We ran around with drop cloths, trying tactfully to remind them. When you are on the receiving end of help, it is hard to correct the helper. You don’t want to appear ungrateful.

The same thing happened with a small table we used to hold our offering. It was not a nice table, but it sat below the cross and held Sunday morning tithe offerings. The volunteers used it to hold a paint bucket without a drop cloth. The paint puddled at the base of the bucket, and the mess stayed there for days.

I don’t think they were being malicious. They genuinely wanted to help. But they didn’t seem to be able to see that the carpet or the table were valuable to us. They were not nice furnishings. They were worn, stained, and out of style, but they were ours. They were going to stay there for a long time. I struggled to understand why the adults of the group were not taking care of our worship space. I wanted to shout, “I know it’s ugly! But it’s our home!”

When they left, the painting was not finished. A pea-gravel patio had been built but with so much gravel it was unusable for anyone, especially those in our congregation with walkers or wheelchairs. Because of the other church’s thriving basketball ministry, they had insisted on installing a basketball hoop, but it didn’t fit our context and was never used.

There were screws left sticking out of walls and badly done carpentry projects that we now had to repair. The promised glass doors, patio tables, and chairs never arrived and were never mentioned.

At the time, we were confused about the mix of feelings all of this brought on. We were genuinely grateful for much of what they had given and for their desire to help, but it took time to sort out why we also felt violated. I wanted to encourage the good thing they were doing while also wishing they weren’t doing it.

Tony and I knew we would have to show up to church on Sunday morning with the building halfheartedly transformed. We wondered what it would say to our congregants about their worth. Many of our members live with repeated rejection and abuse, and we worked hard to try to restore in them a sense that they were infinitely valuable before God. The impersonal and unfinished changes to our building seemed to contradict our message.

Now, I believe we felt injured because their service did not feel like love. Love requires intimacy and knowing, but this felt like we were only a means to their ends.

We could have been any church, any group of “needy people” anywhere, and their behavior would have been the same. We became the faceless object of their service, used to teach their children, to drum up good religious feelings in them, to bring them closer to Jesus. We were only bystanders for their purposes, not real participants in them. They didn’t see the value in our worn-out carpet or our shabby offering table because they didn’t see us.

The church intended to love us, but they did not realize that in order to love, you must know the other. Theologian Gustavo Gutierrez challenges us: “So you say you love the poor. Name them.” A name is a good place to start, a meal is better, and life together is even better than that. Real love requires knowing, listening, understanding. It cannot be foisted on people from a distance.

There are a few bright spots in this memory. I feel grateful for one young girl from the large church who took care of our children, became a Facebook friend after the fact, and has been in touch. There was also an engineer who returned to our church twice after the rest had left. Once he sat with us for dinner on the patio. His continuing presence, his willingness to spend time with us, made his work, at least, feel like love.

As I imagine churches excitedly preparing for their summer mission trips, there are several things I would like to suggest to communities on either side of service projects.

For groups who receive:

Recognize the power dynamic and address it. It is very difficult to correct a giver. Every awkward Christmas present received with a smile is evidence of that. The awkwardness is only amplified as you increase the resources offered, or the disparity between education, expertise, socioeconomic level, etc. It could have helped us to say at the outset, “We are so grateful that you are here. If there should ever be a problem, it might be awkward for us to bring it up. Would you mind checking in with us each day?” If they don’t seem receptive to feedback, I would recommend not moving forward.

Speak up. Remember that you and your community are not less valuable because you are on the receiving end of this relationship. Your voice matters. This is your community and your space, and they have come to serve you. If things are not going well, you can kindly ask for what you need or even end the project early. In the long run, that may be a better learning experience for the volunteering church.

Share life together. Enjoying meals and serving alongside one another can help the two groups better know each other and even form a long-term relationship. Consider what your community might offer so that your service can be mutual rather than one-sided.

For communities who give:

Listen attentively. When a receiving community speaks up, it is vulnerable and risky. Know that when they do venture out, they are saying something important. If the request seems silly to you, work to understand why it is important to them. This is an opportunity to show them a deeper kind of love. We can make that easier by checking in regularly and asking specific questions. Feedback or criticism is a success. It means that you are safe to approach despite the obstacles. It means that you have engaged in a real relationship.

Invite the receiving community to teach you something. Ask about the strengths of the community you've come to serve and invite them to share about themselves. Resist the temptation to take charge of every minute. Make space for the receiving community to lead you.

Focus your attention on those being served, not on the feelings of your volunteers. It feels good to do good things, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but it is tempting to let the encouragement of your community be the goal. They will all learn much more about love if they learn how to listen and receive feedback so that their service can be valuable to those who receive it.

Cultivate that idea that less privileged people have something that you do not have. From my time working with less privileged communities, I have learned that when Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor,” there is real content to that blessing. As a member of the middle-class, my instinct is to assume that blessing means physical, financial, and emotional comfort, but Jesus didn’t think about it that way.

In the Gospels it is often the rich, powerful, and educated who missed what Jesus had to say, and those people on the margins are the ones who received it. Those of us who are affluent have things to learn about life, about God, about the good news of the gospel from those who worship from a less privileged space. I would love to see groups entering service projects with this kind of humble spirit knowing that what they receive will always be more than they give.

The experience at my church gave me new eyes to see my own acts of generosity. Tony and I have since transitioned to a more affluent church, and I hope that experience changes the way that we do ministry. Even when people want and need what we have to give, they can still leave the experience feeling used.

Author and priest Gregory Boyle says, “The measure of our compassion lies not in our service to others but in our willingness to see ourselves connected to them.” Love is not something that you can do to another. It is something you do with them.

Jesus walked with us before he died for us. God took on our flesh and experienced birth, childhood, love, career, suffering, loss, temptation. He knew us. He did not come simply to sacrifice himself, but also to know. Even if he knew us before he came, he went to great pains to show us that we were known.

Jennifer Holmes Curran is a writer, pastor, and parent in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

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Ideas

Abuse in the Church and the Road to Jericho

Timothy Dalrymple

President & CEO

It wasn’t the robbers Jesus castigated in the Parable of the Good Samaritan. It was the religious leaders.

Edits by Christianity Today / Source Image: WikiMedia Commons

The most harrowing part of last week’s report on the SBC Executive Committee might be its summary of interviews with survivors of sexual abuse. Christa Brown speaks with excruciating eloquence on the consequences not only of abuse in the church but of the callous inhumanity that greeted the survivors’ attempts to tell their stories.

“For most people of faith,” she says, “their faith is a source of solace,” a reservoir of peace and resource for healing. For her, however, faith is “neurologically networked with a nightmare.” She was raped repeatedly as a child by her pastor and endured a torrent of hostility when she told the truth. “It is not only physically, psychologically, and emotionally devastating,” she says, “but it is spiritually annihilating. It is soul murder.”

The pattern is consistent throughout the report. An individual suffers the horrific evil of abuse then suffers a second evil of monstrous indifference from religious authorities. The second evil is uniquely desolating. It is one thing to suffer at the hands of a single low-down hypocrite. It is another when the company of the high and holy treat you as though your suffering means nothing.

This same pattern, of course, is also found in one of Jesus’ most beloved parables. The parable begins with an innocent traveler on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. On this hard and narrow path, robbers set upon him, strip his clothing, and beat him to near death. A priest passes by, avoids him, and leaves him to die naked and alone. A Levite, a man who serves the worship of God at the temple, does the same.

Then a Samaritan, the last person Jesus’ audience would have expected, shows mercy to the traveler. He pours oil and wine over his wounds, binds him up, carries him on his own donkey to an inn, and tends him overnight. He gives the innkeeper money and tells him, “Look after him, and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have” (Luke 10:35).

Some parallels to our present circumstances are obvious. The body of the church is riddled with the cancer of abuse. It was never only the Roman Catholic Church. It is surely not only Southern Baptist churches. As the voices of survivors and advocates have made so heart-wrenchingly clear, there are thieves and brigands among us who will set upon the vulnerable and leave them humiliated and abused and struggling for life.

The existence of robbers, however, is almost taken for granted in the parable. Though we should do everything in our power to stop them, as long as there is sin, we will have abusers among us. It is, in the parable, the religious leaders who are most harshly condemned. The priest and the Levite did not merely fail to do the right thing. They joined the robbers in their dehumanization of the abused. They may have professed their faith eloquently in the temple courts, may have had crowds awaiting them in Jericho, may have had important things to do. But your faith is only ever as true as how you treat the image of God in front of you.

When Jesus is asked who is greatest in the kingdom of heaven (Matt. 18:1–14), he brings a child before him. He tells his disciples not to “despise these little ones” but to be like the shepherd who leaves the 99 on the hills to seek the one sheep who is lost and vulnerable. The kingdom of heaven never neglects the suffering of the one in order to serve the many. It neglects neither the smallest number nor the smallest person. “And whoever welcomes one such child in my name,” he says, “welcomes me.”

Now, imagine the sufferer saw the priest and Levite. Imagine she cried out for mercy but received none from these men who were supposed to represent the love of God. How would it have shaped her? Would it have caused her to question everything she thought she knew about who were the righteous and who were the wicked?

Or imagine the sufferer begins to tell the truth about what she saw. Word spreads of the callousness of the priest and Levite, the inhumanity of these putative men of God who serve at the temple of the Creator but show contempt for the crown of his creation. But the sufferer cannot prove it. Would the priest and Levite object that “the world” was attacking them because it is hostile to the righteous? Would they call it a “satanic scheme” to distract them from their mission?

After all, it is easier to attack the world than it is to acknowledge our sin. They tend to blame the world who find little to blame in themselves. They rage over the splinter in the secular eye who are blind to the branch in their own. It is our own sins that should grieve us most. It is only our own sins, losing our first love, that can ever really destroy the witness of the church that is the hope of the world.

So we can inveigh against “the world” until we lose our voices. That is precisely how we lose our voice, in fact, or at least any voice worth hearing. Beware the prophet who has more to say about the sins of the world than about the sins of God’s people. It was not “the world” that left the sufferer by the roadside. Nor was it “the world” that opposed Jesus’ vision for the kingdom of God even unto death. It was the “righteous.” It was the religious authorities.

Which is to say, it was us. Many of us.

Or imagine another twist. The wickedness of the priest and the Levite (for wickedness it is) was attested by witnesses. But the religious authorities circle around them and demand silence. The truth, they say, would harm the reputation of the priesthood. It would harm the institution of the temple. The truth should never be known. They would rather sacrifice the soul of one broken victim of abuse than undermine the faith of millions.

In our time, we have witnessed a shaking of the foundations of numerous Christian institutions—from megachurches and apologetics ministries to summer camps and entire denominations. But remember this: While the institutions of Christendom are meant to serve the kingdom of God, they are not the kingdom of God. “Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable” (1 Cor. 15:50). The kingdom of God is an inbreaking of heaven, an inversion of the normal order of things in which the first becomes last and the last becomes first, the lost are found and the wounded healed, the reign of Love and Truth itself.

The truth may harm Christendom, but it will never harm the kingdom. It is not the kingdom of God when a child is abused. It is not the kingdom of God when religious leaders denounce and dehumanize that child when she becomes an adult and tells the truth. It is the kingdom of God when we protect our children—“for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these” (Matt. 19:14). It is the kingdom of God when we bind up the broken, as the Samaritan did for the sufferer on the road. It is the kingdom of God when we defend the truth even when it requires sacrifice, for any faith that can be shaken by the truth is not faith in Jesus Christ.

The innkeeper receives less attention in the story, but his role is significant. It was recognized as early as Irenaeus and Origen, and repeated by theologians such as Ambrose and Augustine, that the Good Samaritan sounds a lot more like Jesus, and the innkeeper like the church. After all, Jesus is the Great Physician. Jesus alone can heal the wounds these ministers have inflicted. He meets the sufferer, the abused, the humiliated and neglected along the stony path when it seems as though all the world has abandoned them. He alone heals them with oil and wine.

The healer brings the sufferer to the inn, cares for him, and gives the innkeeper two denarii, the equivalent of two days’ wages. Care for him until I return, he says, and if the cost is greater, then I shall make you whole. The innkeeper, then, in the words of Bruce Longenecker, is “vulnerable to loss.” The innkeeper takes the risk. He picks up the work the healer began. He provides shelter, safety, and a home. He listens to the sufferer’s story. He cares for him as he heals. He wishes to love the sufferer whom the healer loves.

We often flatter ourselves that we are the Good Samaritans. We are not good at all. Not yet. Not today. But we might be the innkeeper. We might be inspired by the actions of a healer who is good beyond measure to care for his ailing ones until he returns.

It’s worth remembering why Jesus told the parable in the first place. An “expert in the law” asks him what a person must do to inherit eternal life (Luke 10:25). Jesus returns the question, and the expert suggests you should love God fully and love your neighbor as yourself. But then the neighbor asks, “And who is my neighbor?” (v. 29).

He wishes—as experts in the law often do—to define the boundaries of religious responsibility. Instead of asking how far his love can extend, he asks how far it must. It is easy to hear the echoes of this question in our own time. Must I love them—the abused, the raped, the scorned—or can I find some way to absolve myself of responsibility? How can I set limits on the love God requires of me? The expert in the law asks who deserves to be his neighbor. Jesus answers a different question: How can I become a neighbor to others?

Perhaps this is the lesson we should learn from the parable as we reflect on the disease of abuse within the church. Sometimes wickedness comes with a leering grin. Sometimes it comes in the guise of a villain, a robber who preys upon the vulnerable. Just as often, however, if not more often, wickedness comes clothed as righteousness. With a bit lip, a furrowed brow, and endless protestations of concern. Wickedness comes in the form of the priest and the Levite on the road to Jericho. It comes in the form of those who hear the cry of the abused and abandoned and choose to keep on walking.

Righteousness, on the other hand, comes from unexpected places. It is rarely the province of the high and mighty. Goodness is Christ on the lonely road, and perhaps it is simply our honor, the least we can do, to love the hurting ones he brings our way. We do not need to ask whether the sufferer is worthy of us. We need to ask how we can be worthy of them.

Timothy Dalrymple is president, CEO, and editor in chief of Christianity Today.

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