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Convictions > A Paycheck (Why I Lost My Job)




I recently filed for unemployment for the first time ever. It didn't go down like I would have expected.


I was a pastor at a predominantly white and affluent evangelical congregation. As associate pastor I gave leadership to adult discipleship, local and global missions and was on the preaching rotation.


Previous to being a pastor I left a good job in higher education three years ago because a passion was ignited in me to see the white evangelical space get better. Like many, I had lots of concerns related to the orthodoxy and orthopraxy situated there. However, instead of sitting on the sidelines and being just another flustered millennial with a podcast bashing white evangelicalism I felt called to be the change that I wanted to see. There was plenty of common ground to celebrate and wonderful people to work alongside. There were also plenty of blindspots to courageously reform in order to look more like Jesus. I often felt like the only one who saw these blindspots.


Re-framing justice as a way of life for the church was at the top of my list. Tragically, many Christians have been shaped to view social justice as a secondary concern that distracts from the primary mission of the church: saving souls. I fundamentally reject this idea. In my view, few ideas have done more harm to the church than this. Individualism, a narrow gospel, escapism and disengagement with the pressing issues of our day follow right behind this ideology. Related to social justice, I've had an insatiable appetite to learn about racial injustice and my role in partnering with God to bring change. Books like Jesus and the Disinherited by Howard Thuman, The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin, Letter from a Birmingham Jail by MLK, The Myth of Equality by Ken Wytsma, Color of Compromise by Jemar Tisby and Rediscipling the White Church by David Swanson moved me further towards lament and repentance. I'm not sure these books would have so deeply resonated with me if it weren't for years of previous conversation with friends and colleagues who were passionate about issues of race in America. Their voices shaped me. I opened these books with a non-defensive posture eager to fill gaps of ignorance and be motivated towards change. I worked intentionally with a core group of lay leaders for three years to move our congregation towards a wider gospel that included social justice as a core implication.


Then George Floyd happened. And it happened in our backyard. Churches like ours had no idea what to do. In the heat of the moment we were quick to craft a public statement lamenting what happened (there was social pressure to do so), but the authenticity of these confessions would be proven genuine with time. Anyone can publicly decry an injustice the week of an incident that captures the attention of a nation but very few will stay the course and courageously learn, lament and respond. It was a stressful time for our church. Yet, the moment was ripe for the picking related to discipleship and following Jesus into the Kingdom of God.


Or so I thought. Stuff blew up after I worked with a team at my church to curate a list of suggested resources for families, small groups and individuals who wanted to seriously learn about racial injustice. This list was compiled and posted to our church's media platform. Immediately the lead pastor had several families in our church threatening to leave unless the resources were taken down. The church was being too "political" and "divisive". The elders had an emergency meeting (I was not included in the conversation) and told me to take the resource list down immediately.


It's worth noting what was on the list:

The resources were clearly caveated with the understanding that the list wasn't intended to represent the church's position. Many within our congregation would disagree with aspects of the content and that was okay! It was time for church's like ours to let go of dictating the conversation and instead sit, listen and be willing to step out of our narrow stream and into the lived experiences and thoughts of others.


But no amount of caveats mattered....


13th was "too political" because Trump was quoted in a way that made him look racist. A video on systemic racism was "too political" because it mentioned educational inequity which gets into policy and therefore is out of bounds. An article by a black pastor explaining why some Christians support the BLM movement was promoting a "marxist" organization. A fear based and partisan response to the conversation was unfolding before my very eyes.


I was called by the elders and asked to remove the list immediately. I strongly disagreed with this decision but submitted to their authority. Public apologies were given by church leadership expressing regret over letting us get to "political". A re-commitment was made to being a "non-political church". This was a line-in-the-sand moment declaring our ethos and trajectory.


I was frustrated and deeply concerned. I wrote a letter to the elders expressing my thoughts in hopes we would begin a dialogue together. We met in person shortly after. I expressed my conviction that biblical justice (I see that concept as very restorative...developing care and compassion for vulnerable people and working at personal cost to care for their physical and spiritual needs) must be a central way of life for God's people. I articulated a concern that we were deploying a non-political strategy in order to keep the messy, hard and pressing justice issues of our day at arm's length. I said that we are unable to lament something like systemic racism (which we did a couple of Sundays prior) if we are unwilling to learn about those injustices. To lament means to tell the truth. Most white evangelical spaces are ignorant of the truth and therefore are unable to properly lament. Additionally, the gospel has everything to do with these very issues (that's a post for another time).


More conversations ensued between me and the lead pastor. He became increasingly skeptical regarding my convictions around justice and its role within the church. To him, Jesus and the gospel was primarily about personal spiritual transformation. The mission of the church should follow suit. Social transformation was secondary at best and distracting at worst. In this meeting I was informed of what my severance pay would be .


Then a really interesting theological turn of events took place. I was asked about my views on the atonement. He felt like my views on justice were primarily restorative but his understanding of the justice of God was more retributive. He asked if I personally believed that Penal Substitutionary Atonement was the foundational theory to explanation the cross. Although I could support his view (recognize it as a thoughtful and responsible biblical approach that Christians take and speak of it in that way to others) I was honest that I center other concepts more when it comes to why the cross was necessary. I recognize God hates sin and that retributive justice is a "piece to the puzzle" of what is happening on the cross, but I place greater focus on a more restorative vision of the cross. God in Christ entered into sin and death for us in order to save us from sin and death. He died for our sins cosmically and individually. He was saving us primarily from the grip of sin and death, not a God who must have violent retribution in order to forgive. Because of the absolutely necessary ministry of Jesus throughout his life (and most notably on the cross), we can experience new creation now and forever.


This was not good enough. I had to personally affirm, not just support, the lead pastor's position. With the skepticism related to my convictions on social justice in the background the writing was on the wall. The church parted ways with me.


Other dynamics were at play behind the scenes as well. Most notably, in many churches like the one I served within, elder boards primarily focus on loyalty to a senior leader. Preserving his/her reputation over and above seeking truth and accountability is the result.


Congregants have heard a very different story. They've been presented a black and white narrative: because I could not affirm certain doctrinal points they had no choice but to let me go. However, it was my courage to stand up for racial justice and the role of social transformation in the life of the church that was responsible for the decision.


Talking truthfully about race in America in certain white church spaces opens up cans of worms like no other conversation. That's what happened at our church. There are people like me who pay a large cost for prioritizing truth and justice in those moments.


I've learned so much in this process: God's heart for justice, Jesus' clear embodiment of this reality, the idols that are often situated within white evangelical spaces (individualism, comfort, nationalism, conservative politics, our own "rightness" around doctrine) and the need for the spirit of God to deconstruct and rebuild. 

My love of Jesus compels me to resist retaliation. I don't want to seek the harm of the church. But I've spoken out courageously for what I believe in and have been unwilling to sacrifice convictions for a paycheck. I would have been at my church longer if I reduced my passion and commitment for justice while intellectually agreeing with a long list of doctrinal points. Wow. We've prioritized safety, theological box checking and individual forms of spirituality over letting justice roll down like a mighty river and righteousness like a never ending stream.



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