Occasio

Why young adults need a liberal arts college education (and why it's critical for ministry students)

A recent study of 225 employers reveals some interesting data about what is desired in college graduates entering the work force. Not surprisingly -- to some of us -- a liberal arts education will accomplish most of what employers want.

• Internships. Employers are looking for applicants who have had internships. Over 90% want their potential workers to have one or two of them.
• Getting Hired. Things that carry the most weight in hiring an applicant: relevant courses, referrals from bosses or professors (I spend a lot of time writing these and take them very seriously), and internship experience.
• Skills. The top four skills that employers want AND have difficulty finding in applicants: communication skills, positive attitude, adaptability to change and teamwork.
• College Majors. Thirty percent of employers are recruiting liberal arts majors. That rate is topped only by companies recruiting engineering and computer majors at 34%. The really bad news: only 18% are recruiting finance and accounting majors.

One of the common misconceptions about a liberal arts college or university is that it is a liberal (as opposed to conservative) political environment. This is a faulty correlation. In fact, the liberal arts should be understood as the liberating arts and can include literature, language, philosophy, history, math, psychology, science and religion/theology. The goal of a liberal arts education is to develop a well-rounded person who is capable of thinking critically and able to adapt to multiple work contexts.

This will be absolutely essential in the coming decades, as new industries -- many that we can't yet even imagine -- will require workers who can learn new skills, concepts and frameworks. The inability to acclimate to the changing culture will greatly hinder job prospects and professional development.

But what about ministry? That's what I teach at Fresno Pacific University. Why would a liberal arts education be critical for those wanting to serve the church? Answer: because as the culture changes around us, so does the role and nature of leadership in the church. What the church needs is leaders who can navigate the shifting currents of the world around us. What the church needs is leaders who have experience in ground-level grassroots ministries, a broad education, the ability to communicate well, positive and hopeful attitudes, and the capacity to foster teams of people committed to the work of the gospel.

Did you notice what is missing from the list above? The study suggests that employers are not valuing applicants who are strong, decisive, aggressive, confident, arrogant, etc. There doesn't seem to be an interest in narrow expertise or rugged individualism. The day of the cheif-executive-anything is nearly over, especially in the church.

Interested in ministry? A liberal arts education is a must for the next generation of church leaders.

Source: The Millennial Branding Student Employment Gap Study

Twenty years after Rodney King and that other guy

On April 29, 1992, Los Angeles exploded with violence, and the police department all but abandoned the riotous city. I was in inner-city LA just two weeks before the riots. I was leading a group of teens from my church on an urban immersion. This wasn’t a “mission trip.” We were there to learn about the city and to talk with ministry leaders. The result of that trip was the same as every other Los Angeles immersion I’ve led in the past twenty years: my students are amazed to find that God is already in the city, that they don’t have to bring him there and that he is actively moving in the lives of city dwellers.

But the trip we took over the Easter break in 1992 was different. I remember thinking that the air was volatile, filled with hostility. While walking through the Pico Union district, near MacArthur Park, our group (including me and six white teens) was stopped by the LAPD in the heart of the infamous Rampart Division. “Do you know where you are? What are you doing here?” we were asked through the open window of a police cruiser. I told the officer we were doing church work and we knew exactly where we were. Stopping short of telling us that white people didn’t belong in that neighborhood, he warned us to be careful and sped away.

A short time after we left LA, the verdict of the Rodney King trial was announced. King, an African American man, was the victim of a brutal police beating that was filmed by a bystander and then played on news shows around the world. I remember watching that horrible beating on television again and again. The four officers, three white and one Hispanic, were acquitted. Shortly after the verdict was read, members of the African American community began marching through the streets of Los Angeles, many armed, all angry, thus beginning five days of rioting.

But there was another man that many of us have forgotten about. Reginald Denny, a white truck driver, was also a victim of the riots. I remember seeing it live on TV. Denny was stopped by the rioters at the intersection of Florence and Normandie, and was pulled out of his truck. He was beaten badly by the African American crowd and left convulsing on the street. Denny was rescued by Bobby Green, an African American man who saw the attack unfolding as a news helicopter broadcast it live. Denny never fully recovered from the beating.

My close friend, Tim Peters, was living in a dilapidated SRO hotel in the heart of the rioting. He was the only white man in a building full of African Americans and Hispanics that were technically considered homeless. But Tim had lived there quite a while and was known as “Pastor Tim,” the guy who led kids clubs, helped the poor and brought church groups to live in the hotel. “Stay in your room, Tim,” came the instruction from the other hotel residents. “We got your back.” Tim remembers seeing fires burning and military helicopters flying down the streets between the high-rise office buildings. Pretty crazy for a farm boy from Hillsboro, Kansas!

Tim told me that many people offered him loot from their sorties into the surrounding shops. Hotel residents were coming home with televisions, VCRs, and other bounty. Tim politely declined, offering instead an alternate narrative of peace and justice. Another thing that most people never realized about the riots: Tim personally witnessed many in the community feeling remorse for their actions and actually returning items they had stolen. I guess that doesn’t make for exciting news.

One more oddity of the riots I remember. While this has often been interpreted as a racial war between blacks and whites, it was actually the Korean American businesses that were most badly looted and damaged. In response, armed militias of Korean Americans formed to protect their storefronts. On my next trip down to LA, I witnessed block after block of Korean businesses that had burned to the ground.

What happened in Los Angeles in 1992 was so much bigger than the Rodney King verdict. Every time I drive through the intersection of Florence and Normandie with a van full of college students, I tell them about King and Denny (they don’t know the story of the riots anymore), and I lament the complexity of a system that continues to perpetuate racial divides of all kinds. Systemic injustices will never been solved or compensated with a court verdict (as was demonstrated again in the OJ Simpson tiral in 1995 and will again, undoubtedly, be demonstrated in the Trayvon Martin case in the coming year). We are part of systems that do not have “right” answers.

So what am I to do? When faced with racial injustice, I have to continually ask questions like, “How might God’s love be demonstrated here? What is the most Christ-like thing to do? What will the Spirit open my eyes to see in new ways?” Hopefully, prayerfully, my small moves will work together with others to change and influence the principalities and powers that reign with such a tight grip over all of us.

Of course, I write this as a privileged white male. It’s always easy to be theologically glib when in control of the systems.

Car accidents, vertigo and U2

One of the fun things I get to do is write for the website @U2. It's a topnotch fan and news site that follows the music, work and influence of the band. I recently wrote an article there about the car accident my family was in and how it relates to U2's "Vertigo." Here's an excerpt.

Spinning. Slipping. Colliding. These are the moments in life when all hell breaks loose, overwhelming us with the chaos and fear of loneliness, uncertainty, doubt and a host of other staggering emotions. This post-9/11 world only adds to feelings of isolation and insecurity. The culture that so quickly engulfs our souls (especially in Western nations) has left us distrustful of politics, unsure of the economy, cynical of science and skeptical of religion. There are moments in life, for many of us, when nothing seems permanent or stable anymore. These are the moments that challenge our assumptions about what is important.
 
U2's "Vertigo" is a song that I've come back to again and again since it showed up in 2004 on the How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb album. As a musical piece, the song was enthusiastically received by fans and critics, often recognized as a modern reinvention of the band's post-punk roots. The grinding guitar and driving rhythm work well to support the emotion of the song. In the official music video, the band members spiral up and down, trying to hold their ground on wildly undulating rings of an enormous bullseye, while being blasted by a gale-force wind in a featureless desert. On the recent 360 tour, images of U2 playing live spun increasingly faster around the gargantuan circular screen until they were a blur of speeding faces. As the lead track on Bomb, "Vertigo" sets a tone for the album and reminds us of the tenuousness of life through both music and lyric.
 
I can identify with Bono's acknowledgment, "I'm at a place called vertigo," and also with Edge's response, "Donde esta?" (loosely meaning, "Where are you?"). The song offers both confession and question. I especially like the Jacknife Lee mix in which Bono sings an alternate lyric in the fourth line:
 
Lights go down
It's dark, the jungle is
Your head can't rule your heart
And fear is taking over every thought
Your eyes are wide
And though your soul, it can't be bought
Your mind can wander
 
Fear. We fear all kinds of things. I'm finally coming to terms with my greatest anxiety: the fear of uncertainty. This gets particularly complicated in a world that never seems to stop spinning, a world that was once predictable but is now so uncertain. My mind wanders.
 
Bono has said "Vertigo" is a commentary on the culture we live in. He talks about the song in U2 By U2.
 
"In the case of 'Vertigo,' I was thinking about this awful nightclub we've all been to. You're supposed to be having a great time and everything's extraordinary around you and the drinks are the price of buying a bar in a Third World country. You're there and you're doing it and you're having it and you sort of don't want to be there. And it felt like the way a lot of people were feeling at that moment, as you turn on the telly or you're just looking around and you see big, fat Capitalism at the top of its mountain, just about to topple. It's that woozy, sick feeling of realizing that here we are, drinking, eating, polluting, robbing ourselves to death. And in the middle of the club, there's this girl. She has crimson nails. I don't even know if she's beautiful, it doesn't matter but she has a cross around her neck, and the character in this stares at the cross just to steady himself."
 
In a 2005 interview with Rolling Stone, Bono suggested that, in the midst of all the turmoil and chaos of life, there are images -- in this case the image of a crucifix -- that can capture our attention so completely that they ground us. It is somehow in these moments, and through these images, that we find hope and meaning. We are finally able to make sense of the insensible. And it is in these moments that love breaks through, teaching us, molding us, grounding us.

For the rest of the article, and more about our car accident, on the @U2 website, click here.

 

Aung San Suu Kyi: "Walk On"

This is a repost from my original post at @U2's blog

This past weekend, Aung San Suu Kyi’s National League for Democracy (NLD), an opposition party to the ruling junta in Burma (officially known as Myanmar by the government there) won an astonishing 43 out of 45 seats up for grabs in a general election. Suu Kyi herself will now sit in one of the parliamentary seats.

Burmese activists remain hopeful but cautious as the votes still need to be verified by the military-run government. If the Burmese people continue to support the democratic vision of the NLD, Suu Kyi and her party have the potential to gain a majority of seats in parliament in the 2015 election.

U2 have long been supporters of the pro-democracy leader, likening her to Martin Luther King. During the recent 360 tour they honored Suu Kyi by dedicating several songs to her. On their first swing through America, the band offered a prayer by singing “MLK” – “sleep, sleep tonight / and may your dreams be realized” – and then blazing into “Walk On,” a song written about her for the album All That You Can’t Leave Behind.

But an amazing thing happened just before U2 returned to the States for the final leg of their tour (beginning with the fourth leg). Suu Kyi was released from nearly 22 years of captivity and house arrest. U2’s petition became a prayer of thanksgiving by substituting “MLK” with “Scarlet.” Only one word was needed: “Rejoice!” The anthem “Walk On” then became a celebration of peace and justice over and against the military oppression of the Burmese government.

It’s uncertain as to whether the junta will honor the election (they haven’t in the past), but the eyes of the world are now on Burma, and the pressure to become a democratic nation is expansive. In speaking of this “new era,” Suu Kyi reminded her supporters, "What is important is not how many seats we may have won, but that . . . the people participated in the democratic process. We invite all parties who wish to bring peace and prosperity to our country [to work together]."

Past comments on Aung San Suu Kyi from Bono

From 2007
I have a little bit of a relationship with Aung San Suu Kyi. I've met her family and corresponded with her. U2 actually wrote a song - Walk On - for her. I've always followed her progress and that of the Burmese people. She is a study in grace and they are a study in patience.

From 2004
It's hard not to become a monster when you are trying to defeat one. Aung San Suu Kyi is the moral leader of Myanmar, the country more correctly known as Burma. She has been, in effect, under house arrest since 1989.

Suu Kyi is a real hero in an age of phony phone-in celebrity, which hands out that title freely to the most spoiled and under qualified. Her quiet voice of reason makes the world look noisy, mad; it is a low mantra of grace in an age of terror, a reminder of everything we take for granted and just what it can take to get it. Thinking of her, you can't help but use anachronistic language of duty and personal sacrifice.

Here is a clip of "MLK" and "Walk On" from October 25, 2009 in Pasadena, California.

 

 

Here is a clip of "Scarlet" and "Walk On" from July 26, 2011 (after Suu Kyi's release) in Pittsburgh.

 

 

 

Another viral video, KONY 2012

It seems a bit odd that my last post, which received thousands of hits and was carried by the Mennonite Weekly Review and a number of blogs, was about a viral video. It’s no coincidence that this post, too, is about another viral video. The internet certainly has made it easy to communicate about passionate interests, and people seem ready to access these hyper-popular issues in an age where news and information are turned on and off like a sitcom.

A number of friends and colleagues have entered the discussion about the KONY 2012 video campaign sponsored by Invisible Children, and while some have stood on one side or the other of the debate, many still have pretty big questions about whether this is a good or bad thing that IC is doing.

So, for what it’s worth, here are a few thoughts I have had about the latest story to set the internet ablaze.

• Issues that involve international politics, human rights, regional fighting, and religious conflict are always complex. There are rarely “right” and “wrong” answers. Yet, we Western middle-class modernists want easy answers in our drive-through culture of immediate gratification. We have become conditioned to thirty-second sound bites of yes/no, on/off, for/against, black/white, right/wrong solutions. The modern mind, with its love for the easily quantifiable, defaults to simplistic categories that offer only two possible outcomes. This bifurcation of culture doesn’t allow for the complexities of difficult and historic contexts. To say that KONY 2012 is right or wrong is reductionist at best, and disastrously harmful and neglectful of a multitude of real issues involving real people at worst. (See Rachel Held Evan's post for a broad discussion)


• The KONY 2012 campaign has once again raised the issue of child well-being across the globe, and specifically in Africa. While the awareness this has created is good and has appealed to a younger audience, the sad news is that that abuse of children is nothing new and is a major violation of human rights throughout the planet. It’s estimated that over a quarter of a million children in more than twenty countries are currently conscripted into serving as soldiers in armed conflicts. But there is a much more insidious use of children that is quietly accepted throughout the West. Millions of children never go to school and are forced to work in industries that benefit first world nations. In Africa, children are used to mine the gold, silver and diamonds that we find so precious (see Leonardo DiCaprio’s Blood Diamond as one example). The soccer ball that my son plays with is likely made by children in China. Cocoa farms on the Ivory Coast use child slaves to produce the Halloween candy we hand out to the neighbors every October. Coffee beans in Columbia? Children. Brand name blue jeans? Children. That popular iDevice? Children. Add to that an endless list of products that we Americans love, and an ever-bustling trade of global child trafficking, and the atrocities of child abuse are much larger than a viral video campaign. (See the Slavery Footprint website to calculate the number of slaves that you own)


• I don’t really have a problem with the organization Invisible Children. They have done a fine job creating awareness of global injustices. However, those who donate to this organization must understand one important aspect: your money is not going to people in Africa. IC won’t deny this. As an advocacy group (unlike a charity), IC uses contributions to create awareness. While a small percentage of donations will actually end up on the ground, most will be used to create structures that get their message out (i.e. video productions, billboards, radio antennae in Africa to broadcast their message). If you want your money to be directly spent on the underprivileged of a third world country, use a reputable charity like World Vision, Bread for the World, Compassion Int’l, MCC and so many others. If you’re comfortable supporting IC’s awareness agenda, your money will probably be used to generate more advocacy programs. (See Invisible Children's website for a “What We Do” statement)


• Whenever I hear conflicting reports about an agency’s work in a foreign country, I’m more likely to believe the people who live in the country rather than the agency’s own promoters. Herein lies another huge issue related to international aid. We Americans consistently go into very complex foreign contexts with our packages of aid and solutions to the “poor African’s” problems. It’s a top-down approach without regard for culture or context. We believe, either motivated by guilt or by duty or by entrepreneurial opportunities, that our role is to “fix” what is broken. Unfortunately, we continue to proliferate the imperialism of Kipling’s “White Man’s Burden” first published in 1899. I am deeply suspicious and cautious of any organization that seeks to provide aid to and advocacy for a cross-cultural context when that agency does not first and foremost seek to partner with and learn from the culture it desires to help. The history of Western countries is replete with stories when “helping” actually led to unintended hurt.


• I’ll say what I’ve said before: social media is great for spreading awareness and generating conversation, but it does not equal activism. Many of the desperate situations mentioned above will not be solved with the overthrow of a particular leader, an infusion of funds or the good intentions of people thousands of miles away. The child-soldiers of Uganda do not need your prayers (alone). Praying is a convenient way for Christians to opt out of the larger need: systemic change. When I buy a shirt from Target, chocolate from Nestles or a ring from Rogers Jewelers, I participate in the systemic injustices that so dominates the culture in which I live. It seems almost impossible to imagine another narrative. Yet, that’s precisely what the Gospel calls us to do. Jesus preached forgiveness, but also freedom from oppression, sight for the blind, and justice for the prisoner. Echoing the Old Testament prophets, James said, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world” (James 1:27). And again, “If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them” (James 4:17). I’m glad we’re all discussing these important issues via social media (we wouldn’t likely be having this conversation without Facebook), but to let it stop there might be worse than not having the conversation at all.

For those of you who have read this far, and for those who may be a bit disturbed by this whole Kony thing, I have good news. Give it a week or two and we’ll be on to the next viral video highlighting another global crisis. (Will it be an earthquake? tsunami? famine? war? recession? Or will it be about a surfing dog or a high school girl singing of her plans for Friday?) You probably won’t even remember Kony and the child soldiers in a few days. That’s the upside about living in an isolated individualistic Western culture that primarily gets its news from social media. Ignorance is bliss.

“Oh, don't worry about it. As soon as you step outside that door, you'll start feeling better. You'll remember you don't believe in any of this fate crap. You're in control of your own life, remember? Here, take a cookie. I promise, by the time you're done eating it, you'll feel right as rain.” -The Oracle to Neo in The Matrix.

Why I think "Why I hate religion but love Jesus" is dangerous

To all my friends who have been disillusioned by church, have been hurt by organized Christianity, or have given up on religion, please don’t jump on the “I hate religion” bandwagon.

Within the last few days, a video by Jefferson Bethke labeled “Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus” has had over seven million views on YouTube. That’s quite stunning. Comments on Facebook about this video show that countless people identify with the sentiment that “religion is bad” and “Jesus is good.” I have numerous friends who have been judged, ostracized or treated unfairly by the church. I understand the pain that can come from these experiences.

I, myself, have been confronted, questioned, censored, and banned for challenging assumptions and suggesting solutions to problems within the church (here and throughout this post I’m referring to the church as a whole, not my local congregation). In fact, I’ve been placed on a “watch list” and know that some people will be reading this in an effort to keep an eye on me (peace and grace to you all). All of this has caused a significant amount of pain for me and my family. If anyone has a right to bash institutional religion, it’s me.

A common response when wronged by the church is to condemn the church and then withdraw from organized religion. But this is not the way forward. Isolation, dislocation, fear and hate of anything will not help anyone become a better follower of Christ. Unfortunately, it’s far easier to walk away from and condemn something than it is to stay and help make a change.

So, though I have a pretty consistent (and I think valid) critique of institutionalized Christianity, here are some reasons why I think a “why I hate religion but love Jesus” approach is simplistic, unbiblical and even dangerous.

1. It is not possible to have a belief system without religion. An organized religion is a framework for understanding a particular faith, and includes beliefs, values and practices. A religion creates a whole culture in which one lives and worships. The notion that someone can have Jesus without having religion is a bit like the person who wants a contemporary music-driven worship service because he or she doesn’t like liturgy. Yet even the most charismatic and spirit-led church undoubtedly follows a pattern for worship that is repeated again and again on a weekly basis. This is precisely what a liturgy is—a way of “doing” church. Religion is a way of “doing” faith. It is the system which allows faith to be expressed and passed on to all of its adherents. Religion can be used for good or bad, but there is no escaping it if you believe in and follow God.
2. It’s a very sad point, but this notion that one must make a choice between religion (which is evil) and Jesus (which is good) reflects a prevailing idea among Evangelicals: all that matters is my relationship with Jesus. Our narcissistic, individualistic and egocentric culture has led us to unconsciously believe the myth that the most important thing a person can do is make sure that he or she is right with God. Just in the last fifty years believers have turned worship into a desperate search for therapeutic healing, singing “I want you, I need you, I love you,” and “help me, save me, love me.” It’s the Jesus-is-my-boyfriend scenario. We think God exists simply to help us and make us feel better, and that’s how we judge our Sunday morning worship experience. On the contrary, the Christian life is one of community and the worship experience should not be a focus on the self but on the mystery, majesty, character and transcendence of God. Bethke argues that religion is for the self-righteous, but that argument backfires on him. It’s those who think they can exist outside of religious structures that are the most self-righteous and indulgent. Religion is the vehicle that brings us to the place of community and worship. To suggest that one can do without religion is to suggest that one can live apart from the body of Christ.
3. The video does not present an accurate interpretation of scripture and Bethke contradicts himself multiple times. Here’s just one example. The opening line in this video states “Jesus came to abolish religion.” The idea is later repeated as “Jesus hated religion.” Is this true? If so, Jesus would have had to toss out the entire Hebrew Bible (our Old Testament) and all the “law” within it. Due to a gross misreading of Paul, we often believe that the law is bad and that Jesus came to replace it. But, in Jesus' own words, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them” (Matthew 5:17). In the parable of the Good Samaritan Jesus affirms the law and tells his listeners to “go and do likewise.” The law of the Moses, essentially the code of Hebrew religion, was not something Jesus hated, nor did the Jewish people in general. The law guided, directed and freed the Hebrews to love their God, learn about their God and live for their God. The main point of Psalm 119, the longest chapter of the Bible, is exactly that—love for the law of the Lord. While it’s true that Jesus had harsh words for the hypocritical teachers of the law, he had the deepest respect and honor for his Jewish heritage. The Bible simply does not support any dualistic notion that Jesus and religion were in opposition to one another.
4. Another problem with the “I hate religion” approach is that it never offers any answers. Those who withdraw from organized religion seldom have any hopeful suggestions or practical ways to positively work for change within religion. I teach and mentor a lot of young adults who are preparing for ministry at Fresno Pacific University where I am an associate professor of ministry. I see many students who are discouraged and frustrated by the institutional church, and in many cases rightly so. Unfortunately, the favored option is to withdraw from the established church, strike out on their own and plant a new church. And who can blame them? Working in an existing church, especially an historic church can be very hard. Patterns are often engrained and rigid. It’s simply easier to go it alone. There are many troubling issues about this scenario, but perhaps the greatest is this: we need the gifts, talents, skills and contributions of all people in the church, not just from those with which we agree. Church should be the safest place on earth to be different, to disagree and to offer countering ideas. True community encourages fresh ideas and new practices. If you are a young pastor, leader or member of a congregation thinking about leaving the institutionalized church because of disagreements, please don’t—we need you! 
5. Finally, while I recognize that organized religion has numerous faults and has hurt many people, the way forward might actually be through a renewed and revitalized interpretation of religion itself. Just as Jesus didn’t call for the abolishment of the law but its complete fulfillment, so we might find a correction to the church’s dysfunctions through a recommitment to its practices. Whatever we might call this culture we live in—postmodern, post-Christendom, post-Christian or other—and for all of our attempts to create new models of church, target new segments of the population, initiate new musical styles or flee our religious past, I believe the answers lie in the historic church. I’m encouraged when I see college students engaging in the ancient spiritual disciplines of the church. A new generation is finding deep meaning in lectio divina, silence, fasting, prayer labyrinths, historic creeds and so much more. These practices are the bedrock of the historic church. As we again discover these rich disciplines of a 4000-year old religion, we will draw together in communities that reimagine the role of the church while listening for the active presence of God in our midst. This isn’t a time for throwing religion out, it’s a time for rediscovering what it really is, working to right the wrongs and stepping into the great adventure that God has always intended for his people.

As I said earlier, I certainly have reason to be negative and judgmental of the church and organized religion. But condemning it is not the answer. Neither is expecting everybody to become like me and believe like I do. If you have been hurt, please consider that no church is perfect, nor are the people in it. Religion is not bad or good, though it can be used for both. In the end, the church is the biggest and best run volunteer organization in the world. Let’s not give up on the church, but let’s keep working, together, to shape it, change it and imagine what God could do through it to accomplish his purposes, just as he did through the chaos of the Spirit’s coming 2000 years ago to a frightened gathering of believers in Jerusalem.