New York Times Op-ed from February

The New York Times
By NICHOLAS D. KRISTOF
Published: February 27, 2010

For most of the last century, save-the-worlders were primarily Democrats and liberals. In contrast, many Republicans and religious conservatives denounced government aid programs, with Senator Jesse Helms calling them “money down a rat hole.”

Over the last decade, however, that divide has dissolved, in ways that many Americans haven’t noticed or appreciated. Evangelicals have become the new internationalists, pushing successfully for new American programs against AIDS and malaria, and doing superb work on issues from human trafficking in India to mass rape in Congo.

A pop quiz: What’s the largest U.S.-based international relief and development organization?

It’s not Save the Children, and it’s not CARE — both terrific secular organizations. Rather, it’s World Vision, a Seattle-based Christian organization (with strong evangelical roots) whose budget has roughly tripled over the last decade.

World Vision now has 40,000 staff members in nearly 100 countries. That’s more staff members than CARE, Save the Children and the worldwide operations of the United States Agency for International Development — combined.

A growing number of conservative Christians are explicitly and self-critically acknowledging that to be “pro-life” must mean more than opposing abortion. The head of World Vision in the United States, Richard Stearns, begins his fascinating book, “The Hole in Our Gospel,” with an account of a visit a decade ago to Uganda, where he met a 13-year-old AIDS orphan who was raising his younger brothers by himself.

“What sickened me most was this question: where was the Church?” he writes. “Where were the followers of Jesus Christ in the midst of perhaps the greatest humanitarian crisis of our time? Surely the Church should have been caring for these ‘orphans and widows in their distress.’ (James 1:27). Shouldn’t the pulpits across America have flamed with exhortations to rush to the front lines of compassion?

“How have we missed it so tragically, when even rock stars and Hollywood actors seem to understand?”

Mr. Stearns argues that evangelicals were often so focused on sexual morality and a personal relationship with God that they ignored the needy. He writes laceratingly about “a Church that had the wealth to build great sanctuaries but lacked the will to build schools, hospitals, and clinics.”

In one striking passage, Mr. Stearns quotes the prophet Ezekiel as saying that the great sin of the people of Sodom wasn’t so much that they were promiscuous or gay as that they were “arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy.” (Ezekiel 16:49.)

Hmm. Imagine if sodomy laws could be used to punish the stingy, unconcerned rich!

The American view of evangelicals is still shaped by preening television blowhards and hypocrites who seem obsessed with gays and fetuses. One study cited in the book found that even among churchgoers ages 16 to 29, the descriptions most associated with Christianity were “antihomosexual,” “judgmental,” “too involved in politics,” and “hypocritical.”

Some conservative Christians reinforced the worst view of themselves by inspiring Ugandan homophobes who backed a bill that would punish gays with life imprisonment or execution. Ditto for the Vatican, whose hostility to condoms contributes to the AIDS epidemic. But there’s more to the picture: I’ve also seen many Catholic nuns and priests heroically caring for AIDS patients — even quietly handing out condoms.

One of the most inspiring figures I’ve met while covering Congo’s brutal civil war is a determined Polish nun in the terrifying hinterland, feeding orphans, standing up to drunken soldiers and comforting survivors — all in a war zone. I came back and decided: I want to grow up and become a Polish nun.

Some Americans assume that religious groups offer aid to entice converts. That’s incorrect. Today, groups like World Vision ban the use of aid to lure anyone into a religious conversation.

Some liberals are pushing to end the longtime practice (it’s a myth that this started with President George W. Bush) of channeling American aid through faith-based organizations. That change would be a catastrophe. In Haiti, more than half of food distributions go through religious groups like World Vision that have indispensable networks on the ground. We mustn’t make Haitians the casualties in our cultural wars.

A root problem is a liberal snobbishness toward faith-based organizations. Those doing the sneering typically give away far less money than evangelicals. They’re also less likely to spend vacations volunteering at, say, a school or a clinic in Rwanda.

If secular liberals can give up some of their snootiness, and if evangelicals can retire some of their sanctimony, then we all might succeed together in making greater progress against common enemies of humanity, like illiteracy, human trafficking and maternal mortality.

Doctrinal Symposum Article

It is June 1st, 2007 at Wesleyan Headquarters in Indianapolis, Indiana. Comfortable, padded executive style chairs are tucked neatly behind professional looking tables. All seats face the front of the room where a simple wooden podium appears to be the main attraction. Not exactly a setting conducive to frivolity, but there is certainly the sense that something significant is about to take place here.
While sampling the chocolate covered cream puffs and fresh strawberries at the refreshment table, I glance around-albeit somewhat nervously- and quickly ascertain that I will be representative of at least one and probably two minority groups this weekend. Gentlemen in shirts, ties and expensive looking shoes gather in groups of three or four, shaking hands vigorously, obviously enjoying the opportunity to reacquaint themselves with each other. Feeling rather female and young, I occupy myself with the fruit at the table, and breathe a little sigh of relief upon noticing a former professor whom I feel certain will at least recognize me. A brief conversation later my confidence is renewed, and I am ready to participate as fully as any middle-aged male theologian- well, except of course for the fact that I am not a middle-aged male theologian but a twenty something, female educator- minor differences though right? I’m sure they have their insecurities too right?
Internal pep talk complete, I scan down through the agenda for the day’s activities, and let out a little poof of relief as I notice that I am not alone. There are several women in attendance and even one woman presenting a response. I also look around to notice a few heads of full, thick hair dotting the crowd of slightly thinning, graying coiffeurs. A closer inspection of the group’s shoes reveals a pair of flip-flops, some Doc Martens, and several pairs of tennis shoes. Definitely breathing more easily now.
Despite the age, gender and cultural differences that exist between some of us, it quickly becomes apparent that our purposes are like-minded. What do Wesleyan scholars and pastors have to say about the church- ecclesiology? Topics to be discussed will range from historical perspectives on John Wesley and what he had to say about ecclesiology, to signs, wonders and the miraculous.
We find seats promptly, and from my inconspicuous vantage point in the back row I am able to observe most participants. Suddenly struck by the number of years of ministry and years of theological study represented in this room, insecurities creep in yet again. Most of these gentlemen have been experiencing and discussing the things of God longer than I’ve been alive, and I find myself questioning again, “Why am I here?”
Good question. I’m a teacher. My school year has just ended. I’m without students for only 18 hours before throwing myself into yet another academic setting. It’s summer vacation. I have 3 small children. I don’t have a vast understanding of theology to begin with. What could I possibly gain from this weekend? What was I thinking? Where is the closest exit?
Presenters and responders approach the podium one after another, reading their scholarly papers to an eager, attentive, contemplative audience. With individual copies of papers in hand, we copiously take notes, underline key phrases and jot down questions. I am impressed immediately by the courage it must take for these presenters to share their views. Reading and having ones work scrutinized by some of these Princeton or Harvard educated theological minds could cause, I would think, butterflies in the stomachs of even the most seasoned veterans. Doubts creep in. “How challenging will their content really be? Will they really risk offending anyone in such a setting? Will the information really even be of any use to those in local church ministry?”
One after another, my doubts are overcome by a growing sense of- call me crazy- exhilaration. I know. Exhilarating is to be reserved for things like roller coasters and bungee jumping, not doctrinal symposia. I’m such a nerd. But let me try to explain.
These people are sharing challenging beliefs about what it means to be the church God wants us to be. They are not simply affirming the traditions of the past. They are not content to waffle between opposing views in an effort to please everyone. They are not predicting the unavoidable demise of the church because of those young people who are corrupting what we’ve established. They are not devising new ways to ruin all our fun. For several years, I have been a party to and at times (I confess) a participant in conversations among pastors and ministry students of my generation and younger, who feel that the older generations do not hear them.
Inevitably, late at night over a box of leftover pizza crusts and bottles of flat, half-empty Mountain Dew, the conversation will turn to something like this:
“Yea, I just wish they (the old people) wouldn’t be so slow to make changes.”
“Seriously. People and teens today just aren’t who they were 75 years ago.”
“I know. They (old people) just don’t get us (young people), and they’re going to lose us.” Followed by solemn, downcast stares, head shaking and… pouting. Don’t get me wrong. We are well meaning, full of passion ministers of the gospel who are doing great things, but a very important point is being affirmed for me here this weekend.
Events continue, we break into small groups to discuss, and this is what I hear. “They” are encouraged by the desire for our churches to look different from the world. “They” ARE willing to be flexible, espousing the same kind of “evangelical pragmatism” that Wesley first brought to our tradition. “They” are open to changes in our worship. “They” do believe in the truly miraculous. “They” do see the essential nature of true community. “They” do want to see women as leaders and pastors in our churches. “They” do want our congregations to represent a variety of cultures, ethnicities and languages. What “we” often interpret as rigidity and an unwillingness to “get with the times” could be in reality the wisdom of experience; it is patience; it is waiting on the Lord, and many times it is right and good.
I begin to notice that “they,” even the really old “theys,” are encouraged by some of the passions of our generation. Would it hurt us to take our time a little? Really think before we speak? Read? Discuss? Pray? I’m not saying we neglect these things completely, but in our instantaneous culture, what feels like adequate time to “us” may simply not be adequate.
Am I saying that we shouldn’t be urgent in our cause(s)? Absolutely not. I’m only asserting that if we expect change to come, we have got to stop whining over pizza crusts at conventions and start attending doctrinal symposia. We need to be involved in district conferences and, yes, meetings- meetings of all shapes and sizes. We need to write letters that aren’t angry or critical. We need to read authors from generations before us. We need to present well thought out, supported views without expectation of immediate acceptance and response. We need not get offended when change takes time- it’s nothing personal. We need to maintain a spirit of unity that respects the views of all generations, framing our desires and passions for our futures by the rich traditions and legacy of our denominational past. As for me, I walk away exhilarated knowing that I can continue to be involved in this dialogue for years to come. I can take these ideas home, read the papers with friends and family and continue the conversation. I walk away proud of who we are in the Wesleyan tradition and anxious to see what we will make of our future.