Some Random White Guy’s Thoughts on the National Anthem Protests in the NFL

Image taken from:
https://www.si.com/nfl/2017/08/22/national-anthem-protests-list-players-kneel
Hey readers. Apologies upfront for the humongous gap in posts (last one was in January). I have been working hard to finish my dissertation and am almost finished. Also, apologies for the simple fact that this post has very little to do with Church History. I wanted to pause in that work today to post about all these national anthem protests going around the NFL. I am sure you’ve read about these from thousands of angles and mine will undoubtedly not blaze a new trail. That said, I do want to address it as a lifelong NFL fan, a white man, and as an aspiring academic. Many of these protests address issues of race (and a lot of the division in response to them is along racial lines);  therefore I think acknowledging my own race and perspective at the outset is important.

First of all, the responses:

By now you’ve probably read a lot of tweets, Facebook posts, seen the memes, watched videos, or have even seen the protests being covered on NFL pregame shows. During last season, there were sporadic instances of players either taking a knee or raising a fist in the air during the national anthem, beginning with Colin Kaepernick. Many people weighed in on whether or not players should be allowed to do so throughout last season. In the preseason and first weeks of the regular season of 2017, many more players began to join in, such as the Browns in the first picture (that was from the preseason). However, probably the biggest catalyst on all of this was Donald Trump’s response to the issue. Trump basically intimated that players who protest during the national anthem ought to be fired. His comments, including some made at a rally in Alabama last week, provoked massive numbers of players protesting, with over 200 joining in this past week in the NFL.

Some consumers have even pledged to boycott the NFL over the protests. DirecTV has even begun issuing refunds for the NFL Sunday Ticket package for customers who want to boycott the league over the protests. Many people have come out in support of the players’ right to peacefully protest during the anthem. However, others have responded in a much more despicable way.

In order to not give too much of a platform here for such hateful responses, I will just urge the curious to do a simple google image search for “anti-Kaepernick memes” or something related to that. It’s horrendous, often racist, and hate-filled. There have even been some national anthem singers at NFL games who have protested. The singer at last week’s Lions game took a knee at the end of his performance. Meghan Linsey, the singer at the Titans game, also took a knee during her performance. She received support, but she also had people say she should have been executed on the field or that they hope she gets cancer. Many of the players have been receiving death threats throughout this movement, and Delanie Walker even had someone threaten him and his son over his part in protesting last week.

Here are my thoughts on the whole thing:

Again, I’m not claiming to have some breath-of-fresh-air take on this, or some ground-breaking approach to the issue. I have several responses which I will spend the rest of this blog covering.

First of all, and this should not have to be said, but it’s never okay to issue death threats to someone else, no matter how much you disagree with him or her. Just because you think they are trampling on everything you believe or support does not mean that they deserve to be executed, or get cancer. Shocking, I know. If you have ever tweeted something like this to someone, even as an internet troll/ joke, please don’t ever do it again. These are real people with real families. Imagine what it would be like to see a tweet like that.

Aside from the common human decency argument, I think something more ought to be said to those who are so vehemently opposed to the protests. It’s been stated over and over again, but the players and others who take a knee are allowed to protest. It’s freedom of speech/ expression. Now, as employees of the NFL, they could face fines, suspensions, or termination for taking part in these protests. Free speech is one thing, but freedom from the consequences of free speech is another. This is the argument of “you can say what you want, but you might lose your job over it.” Free speech just means you can’t be thrown in jail for telling your boss you hate his or her guts. He or she could fire you over it, though. The NFL has chosen to allow it’s players to protest. Therefore, if you have a major issue with the protest movement, your gripe is with the NFL, not the players. If you feel the need to make your disgust known, write to the NFL–not the players.

Furthermore, and this is one of my biggest issues with the responses, people need to actually listen to the players’ themselves over this. Most of the anger towards the protests takes the line: “You are spitting in the face of those who fought and died for your freedom;” or possibly the most common: “You are disrespecting the flag, your freedoms, and this nation.” This should not have to be said, but the players are not taking a knee with the goal of “disrespecting the flag.” They are largely protesting inequality, injustice, and police brutality in this country. The national anthem is just the forum that has been chosen. And it has pushed the conversation forward to a great degree. Say what you want about the protest movement, but it has certainly gotten people talking about these issues. This is why I think people need to actually take the time to listen to the players themselves about all of this, or read their posts and blogs addressing why they are taking a knee. Colin Kaepernick, Michael Bennett, Malcolm Jenkins, and Rashard Matthews have all offered very thoughtful comments regarding the movement as a whole, as well as their own personal messages.

The fact remains that in this country, white people have advantages that people of color do not. As a white man myself, I often forget about this. Systemic racism and injustice remain. Regarding the police, black men are still much more likely to be perceived as a threat first, and a person second. That’s injustice. That needs to end. That’s one of the main reasons these players are protesting. If you don’t believe me, read their thoughts and comments. Some people in this country actually believe that racism isn’t a problem anymore. As we’ve seen over the last couple of years, it’s as present as ever.

Also, there is yet another element to this discussion: the anthem, the troops, and the flag. There are some people in this country who have responded negatively to these protests on the grounds of “disrespecting our nation’s values.” I think one of the strangest elements to this whole thing is how much people want to “defend the flag” in the face of these protests. While I am incredibly thankful to be an US citizen, I also do not get the obsession/ exaltation of the Flag by some. This argument has been made by others, but people need to realize that tablecloths, clothes, underwear, and even dog bandannas make the Flag more of a pattern akin to polka dots or stripes than a symbol of freedom. Furthermore, some Christians in this country need to do a little self-examination on how much they exalt the Flag, or the Constitution, or their political party. If it’s even remotely close to how much they exalt God or the Bible as authoritative in their lives, then it’s a problem. But I digress…

One final thought: I also think it’s fine to push back on these players and their protests. Ask them what more they are doing. Ask them how they hope to effect change other than causing rage on Twitter. Much of the arguments you hear are, “The troops did not fight and die so that these spoiled millionaires can spit in the face of this country.” It’s true that most of these athletes get paid more than you or I ever will. However, many of them are using their money and platform to support numerous programs focused on creating opportunities for people or on helping poor kids get out of poverty. Regardless of  your feelings on the protests, please applaud actions like those. By the way, Colin Kaepernick has given away $1 million towards various charities and other organizations which seek to help underprivileged kids and young adults. That’s a pretty high price to pay when you aren’t on an NFL team anymore.

I want to close by just offering a couple of “quick hits” to sum up. 1. If you want to not watch the NFL anymore because of this, go right ahead; but before you do, maybe stop and examine exactly why the protests really bother you so much. 2. Even if you want to keep watching the NFL but vehemently disagree with the players’ actions, read their comments and articles on why they are protesting. 3. Do your part to effect change for the better in this country. If you’re tired of “hearing about these whiny millionaires” (which is what many people say), then go out and take action in your own community. 4.Realize we’re not yet at a place where all people in this nation have the exact same rights and opportunities. Some people have systemic challenges that put them at a disadvantage. Don’t take my word for it, research these issues for yourself.

I am not naive enough to think I have this all figured out. I have appreciated some of the players’ messages about why they kneel. I also think that it’s a good thing for people to say, “Well so you took a knee that cost you a commercial, but what else are you doing to back up your message?” It’s a great question for people to pose to these players. If they want to be a catalyst for social change, they do need to do more than just take a knee at a football game. Many of them are. I applaud them for that. Also, their actions have moved the conversation forward greatly. That much is to be commended as well.

What are your thoughts? Do you disagree? Are you opposed to the players no matter what? I am open to hearing from all sides on this.

The Love of the Spirit in an Age of Black Lives Matter

Greetings, everyone and apologies to my readers for the lengthy gap between posts. I was working on a chapter for my dissertation over the last few months. Usually this blog focuses on figures from church history. We have examined men and women from throughout church history, from the beginnings of Christianity up through to very recent examples. Today’s post, however will look at two very recent, very polarizing events in the United States: the police shootings of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile. I want to frame a discussion of these events in light of the popular Bible passage on the “fruits of the Spirit.”

This past Sunday at my church, the pastors began a new series on the fruits of the Spirit. If you are unfamiliar, these are found in Galatians 5.22-23. This passage notes, “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (NIV). The pastors at my church are going to take a week-by-week look at each “fruit,” and this past Sunday’s focus was on love. The sermon covered a lot of elements of love and community, especially examining Jesus’ image of the vine and the branches (John 15.5-12). I really enjoyed the pastor’s linking to Jesus’ picture of love: between Jesus and God and between fellow humans. However, I found myself wondering what Galatians means when talking about love.

As the pastor was giving context for the passage of the “fruit of the Spirit,” I was looking for passages nearby that include the word “love” (in the NIV at least, which I had open at the time). I found 5.13-14 to be helpful. It says, “Serve one another humbly in love. For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” Okay, so humility is important. Loving our neighbor as we love ourselves is important (this one is pretty well-known). These didn’t really blow the roof of my doors, so I turned to chapter six hoping for something more. Galatians 6.2 says “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” (NIV).

Now we’re talking.

This passage set my mind spinning in a number of different directions. Full disclosure: I am a white male. I spent the first twenty-eight years of my life living in Ohio, the last 6 of which were spent in a town that was about 10,000 people and probably 95% white. My high school (in the suburbs of Cincinnati) was mostly white. I went to Ohio State, which was a pretty diverse place, especially compared to the two aforementioned towns. I now live in a very diverse city (Los Angeles), and have for about 5 years now. However, I might be as confused as ever about the plight of African Americans in this country.

Back to Sunday. After I read Gal. 6.2 I began to get really frustrated, even angry. I spent a little bit of time last week dialoguing on social media about the two murders of black men by police officers. However, sitting in church and reading a passage that said I am supposed to show love by “bearing the burdens” of my black brothers and sisters caused me a great deal of consternation. How on earth can I bear that burden? How can I, as a white male living in a world of white privilege bear the burden of others in this country when I don’t have to deal with the same fears and realities that they do? This past week we saw a black man who was selling CDs wrestled to the ground by two cops, get shot several times, and killed. Then just a day or so later, a woman live-streamed a video on Facebook after her boyfriend had been shot four times by a cop (who was still pointing the gun at the victim) as the victim was reaching for the requested license, proof of insurance, etc. The ensuing outrage of the country was provoked, and several protests arranged (one ending in a horrible circumstance in Dallas after a lone gunman ambushed police). The Black Lives Matter movement organized, and continues to organize, protests. Some of these protests have resulted in viral videos of camaraderie between police and protesters, between white and black individuals. While this is a good thing, it has yet to solve the problem.

This brings me back to my questions from Sunday. How can I as a white man in a world of white privilege bear the burdens of my black brothers and sisters? Is it possible? I have never left my house fearing that I might later that day be killed. I have been stopped by police before (for speeding, at random sobriety check-points, and even after I swerved across a lane line on a freeway because I was getting drowsy). In each and every one of those interactions with police, I have never for even half of a second worried that one of those cops would pull a gun and shoot me several times. This is sadly not the same reality for black Americans. Black lives don’t matter enough in this country, and that’s a major problem. That is something that needs to change, but how? What’s the answer?

I have been wondering this week what I can do to bear their burdens. Do I need to protest at Black Lives Matter rallies? Do I need to support legislation and/ or call my senator? Do I need to “just pray?” None of those seem like enough. I would love some of my African American readers to provide insight on how white people in this country can help, because we have to. In fact, a recent Christianity Today article addressed this very topic. All I know is that we can’t keep responding with statements of “Hold on, let’s wait and find out all the details before we charge the cops with murder.” That allows the problem to continue. That shows just how systemically racist this country still is.

I want to close with a quick account from later in my church service on Sunday. Our church sang the song “You’re a good, good, Father” at the close of service. I found myself wondering if songs like that in a time like this would cause pain among African American Christians. I also found myself starting to think, “Yes, God you are good, but please help this country.” I found myself pondering Psalm 13.1-2: “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?” Again, I am a white male, and I find myself greatly outraged. How do my black brothers and sisters read this Psalm?

So I end by saying, I don’t actually know what to do. I don’t know how the “love fruit” of the Spirit can be evident in my life when I live in a world of hatred. I pray for change in this country. I pray for justice, for mercy, for peace. Most of all, I pray for African Americans to finally be treated equally with white Americans.

I welcome your thoughts on this with the goal of having a discourse.

Heading into Africa Needed a Woman’s Touch: The Ministry of Mary Slessor

Greetings, everyone. Today we return to our blog series on the History of Missions. Today we are focusing on Mary Slessor (1848-1915), a Scottish woman and missionary pioneer. She came from a horrible home with an alcoholic father who frequently kicked her out of the house (Tucker, 170). She grew up working and earning a wage to help support her family, but found fulfillment in church life away from her familial responsibilities (Tucker, 170). She spent time fighting against street gangs in Scotland in her early adult life before heading to the Calabar Mission in present-day Nigeria (Tucker, 171).

She embarked on her missionary journey in 1876, working in the established missionary center at Duke Town; but she quickly grew dissatisfied with the “cushy” setting (Tucker, 171). Ruth Tucker describes that Slessor rubbed the established missionary families the wrong way because she “admittedly had climbed every tree worth climbing between Duke Town and Old Town” (Tucker, 171). Eschewing a “soft” African missionary setting, Slessor felt called to embrace a more radical role by going into the interior of Africa, but was repeatedly stricken with malaria and had to return to her home country in order to recuperate. She returned to Africa, but this time she was stationed in Old Town, which was much further inland. “She was free to work by herself and to maintain her own lifestyle-living in a mud hut and eating local produce which allowed her to send most of her mission salary to her family back home” (Tucker, 171).

She began a new role as an itinerant evangelist and fought against the local customs of witchcraft and also the fear of twin-births, which often led to the murder of the babies and an exile for the mother (Tucker, 172). She ended up adopting seven children from such rescue efforts, and even took one back home with her on another recovery furlough (Tucker, 172). Her visit home was extended because she lost a sister and her mother grew very ill. Not long after getting back to Africa, her mother and another sister died, which actually freed her from any lingering attachments back home (Tucker, 172). These events led her to head further inland, even into places that had been hitherto closed-off to missionaries, including Okoyong. This village had the reputation of frequently killing missionaries, but Slessor insisted that such an endeavor simply needed a woman’s touch, since women were less likely to come across as threatening to the tribes (Tucker, 172).

In Okoyong, her role expanded, as she soon became a judge for the area, being “appointed the first vice-council to Okoyong, a government position she held for many years… Her methods were unconventional by British standards… but they were well-suited to African society” (Tucker, 173). Later during her career she became engaged to another missionary, but he became ill and had to leave, which ended their engagement since she would not follow him and leave Africa (Tucker, 173). She moved on to another village after some time, taking her adopted children with her. New missionaries took over her post at Okoyong and followed after her, and also after she died in Africa in 1915 (Tucker, 174). Many new mission societies targeted these African villages in the interior, largely due to Slessor’s resolve and determination to work in such remote places (Tucker, 174-75).

Unfortunately there were not reports of huge numbers converted due to her missionary work. She did not seem to mind, however, since she saw herself as preparing the way for others. Tucker describes, “She organized schools, taught practical skills, and established trade routes, all in preparation for others to follow. In 1903, near the end of her term at Okoyong, the first baptism service was held (with seven of the eleven children baptized being her own), and a church was organized with seven charter members” (Tucker, 174).

Slessor’s legacy therefore ought to be seen in her laying the groundwork for future missions. She led the way into the interior from coastal missions which she perceived as too comfy and not African enough. Thankfully she felt the call to even enter areas which were notoriously hostile to outside missionaries. She risked her life to bring the mission into Okoyong and other remote villages. She rescued children marked for death, adopting them as her own. I think, however, her willingness to eschew markings from her home country allowed her the chance to effectively minister to those in such villages.

Tucker notes, “The image of her as a Victorian lady dressed in high-necked, ankle-length flowing dresses, escorted by tribal warriors through the African rain-forests in a painted canoe, is far removed from the reality of the barefoot, scantily clad, red-haired, working-class woman who lived African-style in a mud hovel, her face at times covered with boils and often without her false teeth” (Tucker, 170). It is also noted that Slessor’s hut was frequently riddled with rats and roaches and she did not really care about her own hygiene (Tucker, 174).

Mary Slessor is thus a picture of dedication to the mission. She kept going back to Africa after heading home due to malaria and other illnesses. She embraced African living and used the African ways of reasoning to grow in fame and renown as a judge. I also like how she didn’t really bat an eye about the perceived lack of converts. In viewing her own work as preparatory for others to step in and continue it, she showed a true dedication to God’s calling in her life. She was not concerned with results, just the process and her own willingness to step out in faith.

I think that she can teach us what it means to be faithful to God’s calling in our lives, even if we don’t always see drastic positive results. I think in the United States today, this often one of the most difficult aspects of ministry and following God.

The Problem with Being a Foreigner on the Mission Field: John Coleridge Patterson and the South Pacific

Greetings, everyone. Today’s blog continues our series on the History of Missions. For this week’s blog, we find ourselves in the South Pacific in the 19th century. Today I want to study the missionary John Coleridge Patteson (1827-1871). He was the first bishop of Melanesia, an area encompassing many islands between the Equator and the Tropic of Capricorn (Tucker, 210, 228). Patteson was ordained a priest in the Anglican Church and then went to New Zealand in 1855 at the suggestion of his mentor George Selwyn, bishop to New Zealand (Tucker, 228). Patteson arrived and found a vibrant, successful ministry in New Zealand, but soon colonization began to injure the mission (Tucker, 228).

Ruth Tucker observes that “by 1870 there were seventeen Europeans to every three Maoris.” The land was only so large and the more European colonists arrived, the more restricted the native populations became (Tucker, 228). The younger generations began to become very suspicious of white settlers due to these factors and many of them walked away from the Christianity that had begun to take root in New Zealand. However, Patteson had a different idea for how to minister to the area of islands as a whole. He sailed around and recruited native young men to join the missionary training area in New Zealand, so that once they were educated, they could go back to their native islands to evangelize (Tucker, 229). Patteson was a gifted linguist, learning many of the languages and dialects, which in turn allowed him to become more successful (Tucker, 229). He would often personally accompany the young boys back to their home islands after they were educated to help them become established missionaries as well as recruit new students (Tucker, 229).

One may say that Patteson understood the native/ colonist dynamics very well, seeking to train native young men to be missionaries to their own people. His actions illustrated a knowledge of the rampant distrust for white colonists among native peoples. However, he was to run into many more obstacles in his future missionary work, notably the problem of “blackbirding.”

Tucker observes that the growth of cotton and sugar plantations in the South Pacific led to a need for a larger workforce. Unfortunately, a kidnapping/ slavery industry developed in response. Usually young men and boys were kidnapped, but often they were tricked into going with slave traders. This practice was known as “blackbirding” (Tucker, 229). One can see why many native citizens would become suspicious of Patteson and his ministry model, worried that he was just another blackbirder trying to trick young men into a life of slavery. Tucker notes that over 70,000 young men were ripped from their homes in the blackbirding trade (Tucker, 230).

The widespread kidnapping of young men basically signaled a death knell to Patteson’s ministry, as suspicion and fear spread. In 1871, Patteson went to Norfolk Island to preach and gather more young men to come to his school to be trained as missionaries. However, after going ashore, he never returned. His ship, The Southern Cross, sent a couple of native boys who were on board inland to find out what had happened. They found Patteson’s body in a canoe with five wounds, which represented five men who were stolen from the tribe by blackbirders (Tucker, 230). Patteson’s life was given for his ministry, but his death brought worldwide attention to the blackbirding trade and helped to end it (Tucker, 230).

Overall, Patteson represented a faithful missionary who employed a creative model in his ministry. His goal of training natives to evangelize their own people proved rather successful. However, the fact that he brought the natives to a specific location, often on a separate island from their tribe and family, coupled with the blackbirding trade, brought about his death. Despite the fact that Patteson was such an outspoken critic of blackbirding, he was ultimately blamed for it and paid for it with his life. We can always debate whether or not Patteson should have set up training centers on each island he visited; however, his perseverance showed that he was genuinely interested in simply evangelizing and educating the natives with whom he worked.

I would argue that Patteson was simply a victim of his own historical context. Had the blackbirding trade never developed, perhaps Patteson would have been able to keep serving the islands in the South Pacific. However, his death did bring about a renewed interest in the South Pacific region for would-be missionaries (Tucker, 230). Something else that stands out from Patteson’s ministry is his devotion to his ministry. He knew that mistrust and fear were spreading throughout the region, yet he continued to not only be an outspoken critic of the blackbirding trade, but he continued to operate his ministry as he had before.

John Patteson is thus an intriguing figure to me. Stubborn missionaries are not hard to find in studying the History of Missions, but what is striking is Patteson’s willingness to essentially walk into a situation that he must have known could lead to his death. The dedication to his ministry and his heart for the native peoples in the South Pacific demonstrate faithfulness and a strong calling. I wonder if it were me, would I have left. Would I have at least changed how I ministered? Should Patteson have done so?  What do you think? What is Patteson’s legacy? Should we ultimately see him as “successful?”

The Hesitant Missionary: Ida Scudder’s Profound Impact on India

Last week, we continued our series on the History of Missions by examining the ministry and life of Temple Gairdner and his heart for Muslims. This week, we once again find ourselves in India in order to examine the missionary work of Dr. Ida Scudder. Her story is one that fascinates and thoroughly impresses me. She is renowned for her impact on medicine and education, particularly among women, in India in the first half of the twentieth century.

Ida Scudder (1870-1960) was born in India into a missionary family. The Scudder family could boast an amazing statistic regarding their devotion to missions. As Tucker notes, “In four generations, forty-two members of the Scudder family became missionaries, contributing well over one thousand combined years of missionary service” (Tucker, 368). These numbers shocked me, especially the thousand years of combined service. To say that this family has had an impact on overseas missions would be quite an understatement. Ida’s role in the family’s legacy had somewhat of an auspicious beginning. Having grown up on the mission field, she actually did not want missions work for her career.

As Tucker observes, Ida ended up back in India shortly after her high school graduation to care for her mother who had fallen ill. As a result, Ida ended up in charge of a school for girls with sixty-eight girls (Tucker, 368). While she was there, she felt called to minister to young women, particularly young pregnant women. Tucker relates how there was a night with three men seeking help for difficult childbirths, but customs would not allow Ida’s father to help, so the women all died. It was at that point that Ida saw the need and felt her calling (Tucker 368-69). She went back to America to go to medical school, and attended Cornell in 1898 because they began allowing women students (Tucker, 369). She brought a check from a wealthy woman donor in order to start a hospital, but soon saw the need to educate women as well. She had to raise a great deal of money to support both avenues. “While home on furlough, she captivated her largely female audiences by her stories of the hopeless plight of the Indian women, and every meeting brought more money for the project” (Tucker, 370).

Things really took off for Scudder, as she served as a doctor, teacher, and operated an orphanage for homeless children (Tucker, 370). Unfortunately, despite her successes, she struggled with government bureaucracy, with a requirement in 1937 that all medical schools had to be affiliated with the state-run medical school (Tucker, 370). The difficult decision was made that her school, Vellore Medical College, should be the first co-ed medical school in India. Unfortunately, this led to a bit of a scandal, since many of her donors had given to the cause of female education and training (Tucker, 371). These issues aside, Ida Scudder was really quite successful, both as a doctor and as an organizer. She helped start a medical school which trained numerous women and provided them with education which they might not otherwise have been able to access.

Tucker relays a couple of interesting anecdotes regarding Ida Scudder that I wanted to highlight as well. The first speaks to her fame. Tucker notes that someone actually sent a letter simply addressed “Dr. Ida, India,” and it was taken directly to her (Tucker, 371). The second story is that Scudder defeated a teenager (in two sets, winning every game) in a tennis tournament when Scudder was 65 after the teenager complained of “having to play a granny” (Tucker, 371). I wonder what the teenager said after losing to Ida so resoundingly.

Overall, Ida Scudder had a monumental impact upon the country of India. Her family already had quite the legacy, but Ida stands out for her work as a medical doctor, teacher, and innovator of women’s education and women’s health. Her work from 1898 to 1946 in India left quite a mark on the nation. If her tennis game is any indication, I am sure she was someone you would not want to cross. Her medical school was the first college of nursing in India and today “serves over two million patients and trains thousands of doctors, nurses, and other medical professionals each year” (https://www.vellorecmc.org/who-we-are/history/).

I think that one of the most intriguing parts of Ida Scudder’s story is her initial desire to not continue the family tradition. She wanted something else for her life, but God had bigger plans for her. Her work obviously impacted people’s daily lives in numerous ways. If one ponders how Ida might not have even become a missionary at all had her mother not fallen ill, it seems like the illness was quite the fortuitous, if not providential, circumstance. Women’s education and health in India owe a great deal to Ida’s willingness to serve God’s calling on her life.

A Heart for Muslims: Temple Gairdner’s Legacy

Last week we took a respite from our series on the history of missions to discuss Donald Trump and his perceived manipulation of Christianity. This week, we return to our series once again, but this time we find ourselves in Cairo. In the wake of the horrific attacks in Brussels, and the resultant xenophobic rants regarding Muslims coming into this country, today’s blog seeks to focus on a missionary who served Muslim communities. William Henry Temple, or simply Temple, Gairdner (1873-1928) served for almost three decades in Cairo, Egypt (Tucker, 244).

Gairdner’s role as a missionary to Muslims was aided by his ability to learn very quickly, including learning Arabic “well enough to become involved in teaching in less than a year” (Tucker, 243). He also, along with his wife (they were married in 1902), used their musical talents to put on concerts to draw Christians and Muslims together (Tucker, 243). Importantly, Gairdner changed his tactics in ministering to Muslims in Cairo. He shifted from the typical missionary strategy of arguing the differences between Christianity and Islam to more calmly discussing the problems that Muslims had with Christian beliefs (Tucker, 244). He even sought to engage Muslims where they were.

Gairdner spent time trying to work with Coptic Christians in the area, but found few of them were very interested in helping out with the missionary work among Muslims (Tucker, 245). Gairdner’s publishing and his teaching left resources to his mission after his death in 1928 (Tucker, 245). Tucker also notes that Gairdner’s real legacy was the resulting increased desire for people to pick up his mantle of missionary work among Muslims, particularly in the Anglican Church (Tucker, 245).

Although Gairdner could be seen as successful in many ways, there were problems in the mission, notably a lack of helpers. This greatly hindered Gairdner’s publishing work, and even though he spent a year studying Islam with world-renowned experts, he was unable to really make an impact in the scholastic realm (Tucker, 244-45). Gairdner himself even lamented it, noting that he could have made a real contribution to the field. He also saw some of his fellow-Christians renounce their faith and convert to Islam (Tucker 243). So, while he did have some modest successes, one might say that he had just as many setbacks.

I want to point out that in today’s religio-political climate in the United States, we have a variety of opinions, especially with regard to Muslims. I think that Gairdner might assist us by his passion for working and engaging with the Muslim communities around us. As mentioned above, there have been a number of xenophobic responses to ISIS-claimed attacks around the world, most notably by Donald Trump. Trump has said several times that the United States should start banning all Muslims from coming to this country. Ted Cruz likewise has recently stated that Muslim communities around this country need to be monitored. I think such positions on Muslims would appall Muslim missionaries like Temple Gairdner. His methodology was to engage Muslims, not fear them. He even lamented the Coptic Christian Church near him for not doing more to minister to Muslims that were a part of their own communities.

Last night, while watching election coverage of “Western Tuesday” (yet another moniker assigned to a day when more than one state holds a primary), I heard several analysts talking about how each time there has been a ISIS-led terrorist attack around the world, Donald Trump gets a bump in the polls. I find such reactions by the American people alarming to say the least. Without getting too political (although I fear I may have already), I would say that we should be worried when we hear things like, “We have no choice but to ban all Muslims from entering this country,” from our presidential front-runners. I would also say that we should be shocked and appalled when such statements are met with exuberant applause by the masses.

Temple Gairdner took issue with the standard Christian missionary practice of his time, which was to fiercely debate Islam and Christianity. His approach sought to meet Muslims where they were and engage their beliefs. While I recognize that Gairdner’s methods were rooted in mission work and politicians like Trump and Cruz are focused on political strategy, I think Gairdner’s legacy still fits. His time in Cairo was not always happy and not always met with successes, but he nevertheless remained there until his death because he believed in the work he was doing. He believed in God’s call on his life. I would even contend that he had a heart for Muslims. I wish that our political climate, particularly political establishments that are aligned with a Christian majority, would share Gairdner’s sympathy and love for Muslims and eschew Trump’s xenophobia. After all, this country was founded on religious freedom, and I hate to break it to many people out there, but Islam is a religion.

What do you think? I would love to hear your thoughts on these issues? Is today’s geopolitical climate too different from from Gairdner’s to make these assertions? Has ISIS changed the game permanently?

Bonus Blog: Trump and Constantine: Can Religion be a Political Tool?

Well, I wanted to start off this blog with a disclaimer noting that I am a historian, not a political scientist. I have noticed many different opinions on the social, cultural, and media phenomenon that is Donald Trump’s rise to the forefront of the Republican Primary discussions. Trump has taken numerous victories around the country, including a thorough domination in the states in the Deep South. Since today has numerous high-profile primaries and one caucus, I wanted to blog about Donald Trump, Emperor Constantine, and the ability of religion to be used as a political tool.

There has been no shortage of blog posts, articles, and probably even forthcoming books detailing Donald Trump’s ascendancy in polls and in voter turnouts. There have been those who have shared memes joking about his unorthodox campaign, those who have questioned his true loyalties, and even a trending hashtag of #NeverTrump. Others have called into question whether or not he is a real Christian, as he claims to be. There was even a mini-controversy over him saying “Two Corinthians” in quoting a Bible verse (many people did not realize it, but many Christians refer to 2^nd Corinthians this way). I wanted to delve into the theory that Trump has used Christianity as a tool to gain the support of much of the Religious Right. Such a theory reminds me of some interpretations of Emperor Constantine.

Constantine (272-337 CE) was the first true Christian emperor. He converted to Christianity after seeing a vision of the cross before riding into battle. He parlayed its image onto his shields and eventually was victorious at the Battle of Milvian Bridge in 312. The Edict of Toleration was issued in 311, which ended the persecution of Christianity, and the Edict of Milan in 313 legalized Christianity as a religion in the Roman Empire. Constantine was only baptized on his deathbed, leading to many scholars over the years to question the authenticity of his conversion. Some have argued that Christianity was a political tool to unify the empire under Constantine’s rule, firming up his status as the sole ruler of the Roman world.

Eusebius of Caesarea wrote his Ecclesiastical History and a Life of Constantine, the latter of which was a glowing, hagiographical work which praised Constantine’s virtues and cast him in the role of a saint. For Eusebius, Constantine was completely sincere in his faith, and even ushered in the millennial kingdom on earth. For some modern scholars, Constantine was a shrewd politician who used Christianity. Which is it?

The current consensus is that Constantine definitely made a political move in making Christianity the official religion of the Roman Empire. However, most scholars now either believe he might have been sincere, or at least that he could have been sincere but there is just no way to truly know. Unfortunately, we simply have to study Constantine’s actions from the perspective that he might have been a genuine Christian or that he might have just used Christianity’s popularity to his advantage. Either way, the effect was that Rome was Christianized and Constantine was a main cause of it.

This brings us back to Trump. Is he a true Christian? Is he using Christianity to manipulate voters into thinking he’s their Religious Right champion? Maybe Donald Trump is actually a Christian who is using Christianity to his political advantage. He would hardly be the first politician, or potential president, to do so. Unlike Constantine, however, Trump is alive and we can scrutinize his actions and decisions and speeches to determine to what extent he is using Christianity as a political tool.

Where does this leave us? Should we give Constantine the benefit of the doubt? How about Trump? I think that both can teach us that religion can be a political tool. It has been in the past and most likely will continue to be into the future. Voters need to realize this and make informed, intelligent decisions on whom to vote for. What do you think? Do you agree? Should we allow for the possibility that religion is just a tool for politicians sometimes? Does that make them less of a Christian (or other religious follower)?

The Personal Cost of Missions: William Carey’s Successes and Failures

Today we are continuing our blog series on the history of missions. Last week, we found ourselves in India, discussing Amy Carmichael. This week we are again returning to India to examine the ministry of William Carey, who has been called the “Father of Modern Missions” (Tucker, 122).

William Carey (1761-1834) married his shoemaker boss’s sister-in-law, Dorothy, who was five years older (Tucker, 123). Their marriage is one of the more intriguing and unfortunate aspects of the story of William Carey’s ministry in India, as we will see below. Carey was one of the founders of the Baptist Missionary Society, and quickly volunteered for the mission field. Dorothy, however, refused to go (Tucker, 124). Only after a delay in Carey’s departure, and the birth of their fourth child, did Dorothy finally relent and join William and their children in heading to India (Tucker, 125).

One can already see the problems inherent in William Carey’s ministry: Dorothy did not want to go with him. Also, the East India Company resisted missionaries, which led the Careys to move their ministry into the interior of India (Tucker, 125). India was a harsh place, and the Careys’ time was made harsher by the death of their son, which sent Dorothy into a “delusional disorder” in which she thought William was cheating on her (Tucker, 125).

Despite the family troubles, the mission continued with William relocating the mission to Serampore, near Calcutta. Here the Serampore Mission became a success, leading to schools, printing, and translation of the “whole Bible into Bengali, Sanskrit, and Marathi… and translated the New Testament and portions of Scripture into many more languages and dialects” (Tucker 126-127). William Carey’s time in India is a study in contradiction. You have the family trauma and his wife’s declining mental health coupled with the outward successes of the Serampore Mission. Ruth Tucker notes that while all the success was going on in the mission, Carey “neglected his children, failing to give them the parenting they so desperately needed. Even when he was with them, his easygoing nature stood in the way of firm discipline, a lack that was plainly exhibited in the boys’ behavior” (Tucker, 127).

Dorothy died in 1807 and Carey married Lady Charlotte Rumohr, whom he had baptized four years earlier, six months after Dorothy’s death (Tucker, 127-128). Charlotte became a valuable member to the mission, helping William’s translations and being a loving mother to the children, but died in 1821. “Two years later, at the age of sixty-two, Carey married again, this time to Grace Hughes, a widow seventeen years younger than he” (Tucker, 128). Clearly William’s family life was marred by upheaval and tragedy.

Carey’s time in India saw a great deal of change in the Serampore Mission. The group had to deal with new missionaries who wanted to change the living situations and other ways in which the Mission operated. The Serampore Mission did eventually split from the Baptist Missionary Society, but eventually rejoined with it (Tucker, 129). Carey also was noted for being focused on “social issues-particularly in his long struggle against widow burning and infanticide. But otherwise, he sought to leave the culture intact” (Tucker, 130).

So what do we do with William Carey? Was he a success? His is a complicated picture, fraught with his seeming abandonment of his family, particularly his mentally ill wife. He did not provide the help with his own children that they needed. Yet, his mission flourished, grew, and essentially provided a model for modern missions going forward. I would argue that Carey is a strong picture of the dangers of jumping into ministry without first assessing the cost.

In my master’s and doctoral work, I have seen many colleagues who have jumped into a major life change such as getting a Master’s of Divinity or a PhD without first considering what it means for their family and friends. In fact, in my first year of seminary, I sorely neglected my job, leading to me being fired. My pursuit of God’s calling in my life led to me making mistakes at my job and being fired. I have known people who have burned out and/ or allowed relationships and family life to deteriorate because they are willing to sacrifice anything to follow what they perceive to be God’s calling for their lives. In watching people head toward careers in ministry, I wonder if God truly is calling them into vocational ministry or if they are simply going after what sounds exotic or challenging (like William Carey). I have wondered before if I also jumped in too quickly. Thankfully, I seem to have found that balance.

There are countless stories of pastors who have burned themselves out, who have allowed things in their lives to crumble while their ministries thrive. I wonder if it is worth it? Should we consider it a blessing when the ministry of an individual is successful while their personal life falls to pieces? Is the benefit of the greater good worth the damage to an individual? Should we just see it as their personal sacrifice to following God’s calling? I think, for me, a less successful ministry and a successful personal life are more glorifying to God.

Serious Missionary: The Ultra-focused Ministry of Amy Carmichael

This week we are starting a new series on the history of Christian missions. In studying such a history, one will see that there are many powerful individuals and ministries. The main source we will rely on is Ruth A. Tucker’s From Jerusalem to Irian Jaya: A Biographical History of Christian Missions (please see the Recommended Books page on our blog). Today’s post focuses on Amy Carmichael.

Carmichael (1867-1951) was a missionary in India, where she ministered for over fifty-five years. Carmichael “founded Donhavur Fellowship and wrote some thirty-five books, a number of which were translated into more than a dozen languages. One of them, Gold Cord, has had sales of more than a half-million” (Tucker, 2004, 298-99). These facts alone make her a very intriguing person for our blog series. The fact that she had a 55-year ministry is nothing short of amazing, made more powerful when one considers that she never took a furlough (Tucker, 300). Also, the fact that she wrote 35 books with one of them selling 500,000 copies shows her impact came in several different forms.

Her ministry focused on serving children, including “child widows, temple prostitutes, or orphans” (Tucker, 300). Carmichael saw herself as the mother of these children in need. Her ministry flourished, as Tucker notes that “twelve years after she began her ministry she had 130 children under her care” (Tucker, 300). The numerous amount of children under her charge warranted others who likewise were willing to act as parents to them. As a result, Carmichael often urged that her fellow workers were supposed to remain unmarried. She started the Sisters of the Common Life for single women in order to have more women acting as mothers to the numerous children in the ministry (Tucker, 300).

The fact that she was in India for 55 years without a furlough caused Carmichael to likewise deny others’ requests for time off from the ministry (Tucker, 301). She was no doubt intensely focused on their work and thought that time away from the mission would lead to a weakened sense of calling and purpose. In fact, many of her critics accused her of running too tight of a ship and of being a dictator, mostly by those who tried to work with her (Tucker 302). One individual, Stephen Neill, ended up writing about his time working with Carmichael and noted that her authoritarian model was not always helpful, especially if someone came in with new ideas and goals (Tucker, 302-3), which he tried to do.

Overall, we are left with an image of a dedicated, organized woman who spent most of her life serving the children of India. She was gifted with incredible endurance, intelligence, and a deep desire to serve God’s calling in her life. Carmichael’s writing career was rather prolific, directly testifying to her intelligence and communication skills. However, one must also recognize that her dedication often came across to her coworkers as extreme, harsh, and too authoritarian. One has to wonder if she went too far in serving God.

This begs the question of whether or not one can “go too far” in following God. One need only interview people who have “flamed out” of pastoral ministry to find out that regular rest is often necessary in order to continue functioning in the ministries into which God has called a person. Pastors, missionaries, chaplains, nuns, monks, etc. need time to recuperate from their service. Amy Carmichael never took a furlough for over 55 years. Such a model would almost be unheard of on the mission field today. Often, missionaries travel back to their home country to raise support to continue serving in their respective mission fields; however, missionaries also take time to rest and reinvigorate  themselves in order to continue serving God to the best of their physical, mental, and spiritual abilities.

Amy Carmichael was a very devoted missionary who left a lasting impact on all with whom she came into contact. Much of it was positive, but some was also negative. I can’t help but wonder if the negative would have been lessened had she taken time off here and there to rest.

I close by asking those of you in ministry positions and other lay offices what your opinion is of such a model. Do you take regular furloughs/ vacations? Is such a model too “American,” worldly, etc? What level of exhaustion is okay in order to keep serving God’s calling in your life? Can one maintain Carmichael’s ultra-focused ministry model, or was she just particularly gifted by God in order to do so?

Faithfully Sitting on a Pole: Saint Daniel the Stylite and Early Christian Asceticism

Greetings to my readers! I hope all of you are doing well and had a wonderful holiday season. As evidenced by the previous sentence, it has been a minute since I have posted a blog. For this, I apologize. I found it tricky to pick the blog back up in January, and watched January turn into the end of February. Next week, however, I hope to begin a new series on the history of missions through which we will explore movements and missionaries around the world throughout history. I am very much looking forward to it. As for today, I ran across a passage in my reading that I wanted to post about, so today’s post will not figure in with our new series.

The main source for this post is Claudia Rapp’s book, Holy Bishops in Late Antiquity: The Nature of Christian Leadership in an Age of Transition, Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005. It is, so far, a very interesting read about authority in regard to the bishops of late antiquity. Rapp has a brief section in the beginning of her work (pp. 3-5) in which she discusses Daniel the Stylite, a fifth-century ascetic.

St. Daniel the Stylite first became a popular figure in a suburb around Constantinople (Rapp, 2005, 3). The archbishop of Constantinople even gave Daniel’s ministry his seal of approval. Rapp notes that he became “a personal saint for Emperor Leo I (457-474) and for his successor, Zeno (474-491), who depended on Daniel to soothe restless crowds on the verge of rebellion… Leo rewarded Daniel’s cooperation with public gestures of recognition, especially by donating a large pillar, topped by an enclosed platform on which Daniel would live” (Rapp, 2005, 4).

In my experience, many Protestant students of church history usually begin to scoff when they read sentences like the previous quotation. Often, you will hear something like, “Wow he can really do a lot of good ministry from up on a post;” or maybe something like, “This is just extremism or fame-mongering.” Unfortunately, such flippant dismissals of ancient holy men and women can overlook some of the more intriguing elements of church history. Many Protestant denominations today do not know enough of their own faith heritage. It is often as if they think the Apostles all died out and then the Reformation popped up, with a whole bunch of “Catholic happenings” in the interim.

Now, I am fully aware that as one who is writing a dissertation on the early church, such a statement might seem self-serving. But I do also think that there is validity to the ministries and actions of even the early ascetics. In the case of St. Daniel the Stylite, you have a man who lived on top of a pillar. Now it might seem odd, but he was actually ordained to the priesthood while he was on top of the pillar, with the “laying on of hands” being affected by God “from above” (Rapp, 2005, 4). Rapp further notes that “Daniel’s ordination had no effect on his way of life or daily routine, since he never exercised any priestly duties. His ordination to the priesthood served the exclusive purpose of recognizing, confirming, and enhancing Daniel’s position as a holy man” (Rapp, 2005, 4).

So what is the point of him being ordained if he never descends from his pillar? Well, Rapp does describe a time when he climbs down from his pillar in order to mediate a crisis between the Archbishop of Constantinople and a rebel emperor over orthodoxy. Rapp even notes that in the Life of Daniel the Stylite, the two individuals fall at Daniel’s feet which are “crippled and worn down to the bone—a tangible token of his ascetic achievement” (Rapp, 2005, 5).

The man on a pillar shows that he was not above (pun intended) the crises of the city to which he ministered. He willingly climbed down to intercede, a task that no doubt caused him excruciating pain. Daniel is one of many “holy men” from the early church who practiced extreme asceticism. John Chrysostom, the bishop on whom I am focusing in my dissertation, spent a couple of years of his early ecclesiastical career in a cave in Syria where he didn’t really sleep or sit down for about 2 years. Such a practice left permanent damage upon his body.

Many readers today will see these types of stories as extreme actions embarked upon to gain a following. However, Christians need to embrace the fact that these individuals are a part of their own faith heritage. These holy men and women were a product of their era, exhibiting devotion and commitment to the Christian faith. It is easy to say that they could have been more effective ministers if they had lived among the people, but that is to sell their asceticism short. Eschewing the comforts of the world, including a comfortable place to sit or sleep, was done in order to show their devotion to a faith which set them apart from the masses. They were admired for their piety and dedication to Christianity. I, for one, have to admit that I admire their courage to fully live out their faith in such a way. I have to also admit that I think they probably experienced their faith on a deeper level than I ever have. I would urge you, if you haven’t before, to study the ancient holy men like St. Daniel the Stylite.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. Do you agree? Is there validity to this type of asceticism? Should these men and women be viewed with or even overtly given ecclesiastical authority?