The Mission & reclaiming humanity in our reading of history

January 22, 2015

The first time I encountered the movie 'The Mission' was in a hostel in Berlin. My wife and I were backpacking across Europe and we met up with a couple of friends at our Hakeschermarkt hostel. One of them was listening to the film's score and he shared it with me. It was beautiful, moving, and immense.

When I got home I watched the movie and found it intriguing and visually stunning. This week I was able to 're-read' the film by watching it again -- this time through the lens of the study of religion in Latin America.

Besides proving that Liam Neeson is a bad ass even in a monk's habit and showing Robert De Niro can't stop the wild and volatile nature of, well, himself, this film is an invitation to recapture the human element of our records of the past and a challenge to the narrative of "the inevitability of history." These are two very important points that, I contend, we must recapture to address pertinent crises of our own today.

*For more on religion & culture, follow @kchitwood.

First, a short overview of the film (go watch it, seriously...do it now). The film is set during the Jesuit Reductions in South America, specifically in the border regions (Tres Fronteras) between Brazil, Paraguay, and Argentina. The Jesuits have set up missions independent of the Spanish state in order to reach the Guarani people and to avoid political oversight or removal when the Portuguese are handed the territories within which they operate.

Throughout, the film deals themes of violence, peace, and transformation (warning, spoilers ahead). The Guarani kill one missionary only to receive another -- Father Gabriel -- (played by Jeremy Lyons) who comes with music and peace. A mercenary named Rodrigo Mendoza (Robert De Niro) kills his brother in a love triangle in the colonial city Asuncion, which is built on a slave economy. Gabriel seeks to redeem Mendoza and leads him, through trial and travail, to join the Jesuit order and the mission "above the falls."

The work of the mission, however, is threatened by political developments. The Spanish and Portuguese crowns have signed a treaty that transfers the territory where the missions are located from Spanish to Portuguese jurisdiction. Cardinal Altamirano (Ray McAnally), an emissary from the Pope in Rome, arrives to decide whether the missions will remain under the protection of the Church. Tension and disagreement ensue as various interlocutors (the missionaries, colonists, and the Guarani) all contest the handover of land. The central issue is whether or not the Guarani will be forced off their land.

While Altamirano is impressed by the missions among the Guarani he also recognizes that the missions pose an economic threat to the European (Spanish or Portuguese) plantations. Thus, Altamirano tells the Indians that they must leave and orders the priests to accept the transfer of the mission territories. In private, he explains to Gabriel that the future of the Jesuit order in Europe depends upon their not resisting the political authorities in South America.

The Guarani, unmoved by political arguments and unable to understand what Altamirano says is the will of God, decide to defend their home. Mendoza, encouraged by an Guarani boy renounces his vow of obedience as a Jesuit and chooses to fight alongside them. Gabriel discourages him and instead decides to lead mass with women, children, and older men as European troops descend and the mission is destroyed, the Guarani killed.

Near the end of the film, Cardinal Altamarino and the Portuguese political representative (Don Hontar) are discussing the events that unfold and the latter laments that what occurred was unfortunate, but inevitable. He says, "we must work in the world; the world is thus." To this, Altamarino replies, "No, thus have we made the world. Thus I have made it."

In this one line is the point of the film that I am trying to highlight -- that history is not inevitable, that human actors play a key role in all historical events, forces, or movements. Cardinal Altamarino recognizes that the massacre was not predetermined, but instead that human actors had made it so by their thoughts, words, and deeds.

School children peer over at a wooden representation of a victim of the Inquisition in Lima, Peru.

A similar point is made in another work concerning colonial South America -- Modern Inquisitions: Peru and the Colonial Origins of the Civilized World by Irene Silverblatt. Interrogating records from the Inquisition in colonial Peru, Silverblatt argues that rather than being a paragon of pre-modern religious fanaticism, the Inquisition was a thoroughly modern, and some might say 'civilized,' affair engaged in bureaucratic wrangling, a fidelity to procedure, and a magical process of modern state-craft built around race-thinking. She argues throughout the book that in order to see the Inquisition as such we must plumb the historical depths of the records to find a) that the accused, the inquisitor, the witnesses, and the participants in the autos-de-fe were all human and b) that the Inquisition was not inevitable as such.

She wrote of looking at the records, "we read about disputes, errors, missed chances, and disastrous calculations; we read tales of human strength and courage, about moments of extraordinary valor and acts of profound dignity; and sometimes we can even find flashes of humor." (p. 23) She intimates here that in looking to the historical sources, we must find the characters to not be some mindless figures caught up in fixed forces, but as "human beings -- replete with foibles, strengths, and shortcomings -- who act in ways not always predictable or anticipated." (p. 22)

Likewise, in her book Time and Sacrifice in the Aztec Cosmos Kay Almere Read approaches the bloody system of sacrifice in the Mexica cosmos and takes a novel approach compared to other historical overviews and explanations. Rather than assuming that the entire Mesoamerican civilization was full of sadist-psychopaths who enjoyed murdering one another, let's assume that it's not just about sacrifice and that these human beings of the past were engaged in, what they thought, was a world-ordering and moral affair engaged with the fundamental powers of the universe (time and space). Let's try to understand their point of view. At the same time, Read perhaps goes too far in underestimating the level of resistance to this system of sacrifice in order to illustrate the rationale of it. Certainly, peripheral communities within the Mexica world resisted their capture and the sacrificial system, even though they may have bought into the rational of the cosmological narrative. Again, history is not inevitable.

This same dual emphasis could be applied to other epochs of history -- investigating the "Golden Era of Islamic Science," the "Galileo Affair," the development of Mormonism in the U.S., etc. In each of these instances we can read them according to their headlines, or we can listen to the small voices of history and try to recapture the human elements of each story. Doing so, we will find true believers and dissonant rebels, people on both sides of the conflict and certainly some in the middle. We will discover conflicted characters and moments when maybe, just maybe, things could have gone a different way.

Essentially, we can read history in a black-and-white, "this was always going to happen," manner or we can nuance the story, romance its miscellany, and find the tangible, fallible, and flesh-and-blood stories of men and women wrestling with the worldview of their day to bring about the events that we now read as "inevitable history." In doing so, we will find that these events were anything but assured, but that history could've turned on a dime.

Why is this important? Today, we are dealing with myriad crises. Whether we are in Ferguson, Missouri; Mosul, Iraq; Paris, France; or Monrovia, Liberia we must never lose sight of the human elements of each of these stories, and, likewise, must not assume that there are inexorable forces at work that fate these circumstances to play out in a certain way. Black lives can matter and police work can be respected; violent extremism and sectarian religious communism can be combatted, and disease can be eradicated. There is no need to throw our hands up in the air and either a) ignore the problem or b) act as if there is only one unfortunate outcome.

The way to address these issues with an open mind and for a possible positive outcome is to actively remember, and recapture, the human element at every turn.

We must not think of the protests in Ferguson (and elsewhere) as an "us v. them" drama, but a story of a family who lost a child, a police officer who took a life, a community that feels social pressures that they feel are outside of their control, and political, religious, and social leaders trying to lead toward a peaceful future.

This man has a story, let us not forget.

We must not think of ISIS or other terrorist elements in the world as mindless drones caught up in a tidal wave of "Islamic extremism." These are men and women who feel isolated, de-territorialized, and confused in a chaotic mess of identity crisis wherein they are forced to choose between false binaries of being modern or Muslim, European or Islamic, etc. We must also remember the refugees and the soldiers on the ground with their lives, families, religious sensibilities, and daily concerns. We must also not forget the victims and their hopes, dreams, and aspirations cut short or derailed by violence.

We must not think of Ebola as an unstoppable disease or the cultures wherein it is wreaking havoc as backwards or unable to cope. Diseases have been eradicated before, plagues have been stopped. Throughout, we must remember that those effected are more than bodies, they are embodied beings whose heart beats with similar passions to our own, but are forced to live in a context of fear, suspicion, and death that we can only scarcely imagine.

In conclusion, it is my contention that remembering the human element will often lead us to more level headed, compassionate, and deeper understanding of not only historical events, but contemporary crises. By considering the movie "The Mission" and the study of various eras in American hemispherical history we are invited to recognize that these stories are not of individuals caught up along some inhuman wave of social forces or inevitable metaphysical dramas, there is an ontological, chaotic, dynamic relationship between event and human.

We must never forget the human element. If we do, we will often misconstrue history and/or contemporary events to the point that we assume that the people involved have no humanity to defend, that they were simply good/bad, evil/heroic, and that history dealt with them accordingly. Likewise, we must never ignore the history of a people. As William Loren Katz wrote, "Those who assume that a people have history worth mentioning are likely to believe they have no humanity worth defending."

Appreciating the history, and humanity, of people, stories, and events, on the other hand, will lead us to greater understanding, dialogue, and eventually, hopefully, to compassion as we consider the story, as we wrestle with its implications, and we draw lessons to learn from the past and the present to confront our common future.

*For more on religion & culture, follow @kchitwood.

Rebel Baptist, Political Pastor: The story of John Chilembwe & its relevance today

January 15, 2015

Happy John Chilembwe Day!

Today (January 15, 2015) is national John Chilembwe Day in Malawi. A national hero since its genesis as a nation in 1964, Chilembwe is celebrated as an early anti-colonial figure who opposed mistreatment of African workers on European-owned plantations and the lack of social, political, and economic promotion of Africans.

On January 23, 1915, Chilembwe, an American trained Baptist minister and educator, led what was to be an unsuccessful uprising against the colonial rulers of Nyasaland (Malawi). Now, he is honored as a hero of African independence and 100 years after his failed armed rebellion he is remembered as a paragon of anti-hegemonic struggle.

But Chilembwe's story begs a few questions: 1) how could an evangelical pastor be led to organize an armed uprising? 2) what can be learned from his example in this way? 3) what does his sentiment, action, and death have to teach us today?

*Follow Ken on Twitter for more religion, culture, and theology

First, a little more about Chilembwe. He was born in Nyasaland around 1871 to a Yao father and a Mang'anja slave. In the economic system of the day the Yao (originally from Mozambique) were middlemen between the enslaving Arab traders and the Mang'anja slaves (the local tribal ethnicity). In 1891 the British colonized Nyasaland and took over where the Arab traders began, institutionalizing the system of indigenous control and establishing a system of governance and missions through which to do so.

As a young man Chilembwe met the missionary John Booth. By all accounts Booth was an outcast in colonial circles, described as "an eccentric, apocalyptic British fundamentalist missionary in Baptist persuasion" by historian Robert Rotberg. Booth advanced criticisms of the established Scottish Presbyterian mission and in launching the Zambezi Industrial Mission he formalized a system that promoted more egalitarian formulations for British, Yao, and Mang'anja alike. This message of equality, self-denial, and freedom caught the attention of colonial authorities and riled other missionaries.

John Chilembwe with his wife, Ida, and daughter, Emma (ca. 1910-1914). — John Chilembwe with his wife, Ida, and daughter, Emma (ca. 1910-1914).

Chilembwe became friends with Booth, even caring for his daughter, and was baptized by the progressive pastor on July 17, 1893. When Booth traveled to the U.S. in 1897 to raise funds for the mission, Chilembwe departed with him. Booth and Chilembwe parted on friendly terms and the latter attended the Virginia Theological Seminary and College -- a small Baptist institution in Lynchburg, VA. Here, Chilembwe encountered not only the prejudice against "negroes" in the American south, but also witnessed radical American "Negro" ideas and the works of such luminaries as John Brown, Booker T. Washington, Marcus Garvey, and John L. Dube -- a radical Zulu missionary from South Africa. It was in the U.S. where Chilembwe acquired a global perspective on the struggle of people of African descent and the need to confront injustice and white hegemony. After his vocational training was complete, Chilembwe was ordained a Baptist minister in 1899.

In 1900 he returned to Nyasaland and worked for the American National Baptist Convention. He established a network of independent African schools and planted a church built of brick (no small expense in those days) at the center of his own Providence Industrial Mission (PIM). During this time, Chilembwe became close with leaders of several independent African churches (AICs), including some Seventh Day Baptist orders and Church of Christ congregations. Chilembwe dreamed of a united African Christian front with his own mission at the center. While he also had some contact with Jehovah's Witnesses during this time, it is debatable how much the Watchtower's millennial orientation influenced Chilembwe's own theology.

Chilembwe also developed plantations of cotton, coffee, and tea. Through all of these endeavors his aim was to establish a system of justice, equality, and African agency. This contrasted with the established views of British colonial society, advanced by the likes of Alexander Livingstone Bruce, who held that educated Africans (such as Chilembwe) had no place in colonial society. Bruce viewed AICs as "centers for agitation" and fought for the prohibition of their expansion. Bruce and Chilembwe came into direct confrontation with Bruce openly criticizing the missionary pastor and the latter advocating for the tenants on the Bruce estate, even going so far as to build a PIM church on Bruce's land.

It was in this crucible that Chilembwe's anti-colonial sentiments began to take shape. Angered by Bruce's mistreatment of the African people and frustrated by the lack of political voice afforded to African men, Chilembwe vocally criticized the colonial racist system. Then, a series of unfortunate events led to an eventual armed uprising founded on this critique. First, Chilembwe's area was hit by a hard famine. Second, immigrants from Mozambique caused a rush on land that pushed out Africans and afforded white settlers an opportunity seize what prime land was left. Third, a tax was imposed on African huts, which forced many African men to leave home to find work in urban centers. Finally, and more personally, Chilembwe began to incur several debts that his fundraising efforts with American backers could not cover. Fourth, a personal struggle with asthma, the death of his own daughter, and a general decline in health led Chilembwe to become a frustrated and agitated man.

Chilembwe broke when the British conscripted Mang'anjas to fight Germany in World War I. Rotberg wrote that Chilembwe penned a letter that captured his sentiments at the time. He wrote, "We understand that we have been invited to shed our innocent blood in this world's war....[But] will there be any good prospects for the natives after...the war? We are imposed upon more than any other nationality under the sun...." The remainder of the letter, signed "on behalf of my countrymen" was an open protest against the neglect of African agency and freedom. The combination of this generally unjust system and the mistreatment of famine refugees and immigrants, Chilembwe was inspired to revolt. Calling on the legacy of staunch abolitionist John Brown, who organized the attack on Harper's Ferry in 1859, Chilembwe organized and sparked an open, armed, rebellion against the British in order "to make our blood count at last."

Chilembwe continues to grace Malawi currency to this day. He used to be featured on all printed notes until the year 2000.

Drawing on his contacts in multiple AICs and as an advocate for the people, Chilembwe was able to gather around 200 armed men. The uprising began on January 23, 1915 with the goal of killing all white, male, Europeans. The revolutionaries murdered three British colonists, including the widely hated William J. Livingston, whom they beheaded in front of his family. Following the raiding of a local ammunitions store the rebels retreated to pray. The rebellion did not gain popular support and most were shocked by the level of violence that Chilembwe and his followers unleashed on the British. Without widespread backing, the Chilembwe rebels fled to Mozambique where he was killed by African soldiers on February 3, 1915.

Even though his rebellion was unsuccessful and bloody the people of Malawi celebrate Chilembwe as the pioneer of Malawi independence and the initial spark that led to Malawi's own nationhood in 1964.

Chilembwe's life and struggle are worth contemplating and celebrating here in the U.S. as well. For three reasons:

1) In the line of John Brown at Harper's Ferry, Chilembwe physically, emotionally, and theologically embodied the need for the subaltern voice to speak out against oppression, injustice, systemic racism, and white privilege. Racism and injustice still oppress our world, our cultures, our nations. It is not enough to pass laws and pretend the issue is settled. Instead, the subaltern voice needs to be able to continually critique, and call into question, a system that persistently marginalizes, disenfranchises, and supports a continually racist duplicity in the U.S. In America, and elsewhere, there need to be Chilembwes to speak out against the system that oppresses them.

2) Simultaneously, Chilembwe's story is a testament to the limits of violent struggle. While Chilembwe's passion and voice are commendable, his brutal response is not. While a rationale for armed rebellion could be explicated in certain contexts, now is not the time for an armed conflict. As we saw in the wake of the protests in Ferguson over the death of Michael Brown, a necessary and critical conversation about race and privilege in the U.S. was robbed of its power by violent radicals who looted the neighborhood, destroyed buildings, and fought back violently at police. While not equal to the bloodshed of Chilembwe's revolt, it is a telltale lesson that peaceful protest and non-violent resistance must be the way forward in fighting injustice.

3) Significantly, Chilembwe's influence speaks to the vibrant contribution that African evangelical theology and practice brings to contemporary movements and debates over freedom, quality, justice, and the fact that #BlackLivesMatter. A peaceful protest against privilege must involve a theological voice. This was exemplified in the life and civil theology of Martin Luther King Jr., whose celebration occurs shortly after Chilembwe's (January 19, 2015). His good news of freedom, equality, and non-violent struggle not only inspired a generation, but entire nations.

Presently, I am in awe of the many progressive, conservative, and undefinable evangelical voices who are speaking out about racism, oppression, and injustice in the U.S. right now. Immediately, the names of Andy Gill, the people of the Theology of Ferguson blog, and Rev. Dr. Andre E. Johnson spring to mind, but there are certainly many, many others. Just as Chilembwe's independent, evangelical, apostolic, and millennial vision inspired him to speak out, so too must Christians today give scriptural voice to the struggle for justice. Principally, their message should be one that inspires peace, not violence.

As Andy Gill tweeted today, "The answer is not guns or violence, it's intellect and patience. #justice"

In that spirit, Happy John Chilembwe Day indeed.

*Like this blog? Read "Black Jesus & Religion and Race on the Margins"

*Follow Ken on Twitter for more on religion, culture, and theology

2014's Religion & Culture Top Stories & Awards

December 18, 2014

It’s that time of year when we produce our top lists of news stories and notables from the past year, reflecting on the most “intriguing people” of the year and counting down the best and worst of what was 2014. In the spirit of these lists and the soon-to-be-upon-us movie awards season, when awards are given to various people for all types of achievements, both marvelous and nefarious, these are the official 5th Annual Religion & Culture News Awards featuring the moments and individuals that gave shape to the religious landscape of 2014:

*Interested in 2013, 2012, 2011 or 2010’s lists?

Top Religion News Story of the Year – ISIS

Each year the Religion Newswriters Association, a consortium of religion newsies & commentators from across the U.S., vote on the top religion story of the year. I, along with them, decided that the self-styled Islamic State's reign of terror in Iraq and Syria was the top story of the year. Driving out the Iraqi army from Mosul and exiling ancient Christian communities, Yazidis and other religious minorities on threat of death, the United Nations, Christians and many Muslim groups strongly condemned their actions -- including the videotaped beheadings of American journalist James Foley and other hostages as inhumane and un-Islamic.

Read Ken's stories covering this event:

Five Facts You Need to Know about Iraq, ISIS, and its Religious Minorities (featured on Haven Today radio)
The Lonely Jihadi: Why do Westerners join ISIS? (featured in Sojourners' Magazine)
The One Time an ISIS Supporter Talked to me on Twitter

*For more on religion & culture, follow @kchitwood

Most Encouraging Religious Moment – #IllRideWithYou

If the top story is a contentious and disheartening, there were also encouraging moments in the news this year. Indeed, there were many. My friends at Deseret News National compiled a list of the "11 of our most inspiring stories of 2014" and I've got my own top three "Most Encouraging Religious Moments":

1. In the wake of the hostage situation at a Lindt Chocolate Cafe in Sydney's central business district Anti-Muslim sentiment flared. here were fears that Australian Muslims could become the targets of racially motivated retaliatory attacks. A social media campaign condemning Islamophobia under the hashtag #illridewithyou then took off. Australian Twitter users, sparked by TV content editor Tessa Kum's tweet of solidarity, offered to accompany Muslims wearing religious clothes on public transport as a gesture of support, all while communicating using the hashtag #illridewithyou.

2. As TIME magazine made clear with its choice of Person of the Year being the Ebola Fighters, Ebola was a major crisis this year. At the center of the response were health-care workers, many of them faith-based, who successfully remained at their West African posts as the Ebola epidemic spread. The treatment of American medical missionaries Kent Brantly and Nancy Writebol gained wide attention.

3. And finally, faith-based groups help lead peaceful protests against racial injustice in the Ferguson, Mo., shooting case amidst violent outbursts after the police officer involved is not indicted. Protests also break out after a New York grand jury does not indict a police officer in another case of an unarmed black man dying in an altercation with white police officers.

*Read about Black Jesus and finding Jesus at the margins

Most Contentious Religious Event – Israel-Palestine Conflict

A cascading deterioration of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict includes the kidnappings and murders of Israeli and Palestinian civilians (including a deadly attack on rabbis praying in a synagogue and the death of a Palestinian minister), an Israel-Hamas war that leaves more than 2,000 dead, and tensions over Temple Mount access and the Al-Aqsa mosque make the conflict in "the Holy Land" the most contentious religious event of the year. Even so, I am headed to Israel/Jordan in May and I invite you to come along to listen, learn, and make the journey with me.

Best Picture – The Lunchbox

Last year was a tough call for these awards...there just weren't many options as Hollywood avoided spiritual movies like the plague. Well, that's probably because in 2014 they unleashed a locust torrent's worth of biblical, spiritually-themed movies. So much so that this year was anecdotally referred to as "The Year of the Biblical Movie!" So how to choose just one?

There was "Son of God" from Mark Burnett and Roma Downey, "God's Not Dead," which took evangelical churches and youth groups by storm, "Noah" and the controversy of its fanciful tale and atheist director Darren Aronofsky (of "Black Swan" fame), and the white-washed version of Moses, Aaron, the Hebrew people, and the Pharaoh of Egypt in "Exodus - Gods and Kings." Add to this already notable list Nicholas Cage's "Left Behind" remake, "The Identical," Sony pictures' "Heaven is For Real" starring Greg Kinnear, the African film "Timbuktu" about Islamic fundamentalists in Mali and you've got major contenders for this award.

My top pick? "The Lunchbox." While my favorite movie growing up was "The Ten Commandments" with Charlton Heston, I couldn't quite go with "Exodus: Gods and Kings" and while "Noah" was good, it wasn't great. "The Lunchbox" is an extraordinary Indian movie about love, loss, and yearning that features the opening up of three main characters -- a Muslim, a Hindu, and a Catholic - in passion and friendship. More than one critic saw in this story about food culture and love another Indian tale -- that of interfaith relationships in a country too often marred with religious tension and violence. It deserves the award, and your time...go watch it.

Top Five Books in Religion

I'm a self-professed bibliophile and a religion book reviewer for Publisher's Weekly, so you'll have to permit me to list a few again. Here are the top 5 religion books worth your while for page-turning interest if you haven't read them already:

. Rebel Music: Race, Empire, and the New Muslim Youth Culture by Hisham D. Aidi. I first ran into Aidi during my research on Latina/o Muslims in the U.S. He was writing about "the new hip-hop umma" and I was hooked. This book is a "bracing, fascinating, and utterly timely exploration of music, race, and cultural identity," in which "Aidi examines young European and American Muslims and their search for what he calls, 'a nonracist utopia.'"

2. America’s Pastor: Billy Graham and the Shaping of a Nation by American religion scholar Grant Wacker. More than a biography, this is an "appraisal of the roles Graham, the great [American] evangelist, played during his career which began during the late 1930s and extended through his last crusade in 2005."

3. The Zimzum of Love: A New Way of Understanding Marriage by Rob and Kristen Bell. While Dave Harvey of the Gospel Coalition wrote, "if a mob amassed to burn Christian books, The Zimzum of Love would not be at risk" this is still a spiritual/psychological/mystical/scientific look at marriage and the connection between two human beings by an evangelical, albeit liberal, pastor in league with the spiritual powerhouse Oprah. It cannot be ignored. Read the FULL REVIEW here.

4. The Age of Atheists: How We Have Sought to Live Since the Death of God by Peter Watson. In this, "Watson offers a history of atheist to show that the topic du jour does in fact have a heritage. His tour of modern thought in a variety of disciplines offers exhilarating and unexpected connections."

5. That Religion in Which All Men Agree: Freemasonry in American Culture by David G. Hackett. I'm partial, Dr. Hackett is my faculty mentor in the University of Florida's PhD program in religion. Still, this book is a powerful study that weaves the story of Freemasonry into the narrative of American religious history in which Hackett argues that from the 1730s through the early twentieth century the religious worlds of an evolving American social order broadly appropriated the beliefs and initiatory practices of this all-male society.

Most Entertaining Intersection of Religion & Culture – The Pope's Magazine

In 2013 Pope Francis was the most interesting man in the world. Suitably, he soon graced the cover of Rolling Stone magazine and now - he has his own glossy. The magazine is titled Il Mio Papa (My Pope) hit newsstands with a 69-page first edition of photos of the pope, his life story, and his mission in the Vatican. Pope Francis found it "offensive." Hear more from NPR here.

Best New Religion - Yeezianity

Yes, the First Church of Kanye West. For realz. As HuffPost reported, "The 36-year-old rapper has in fact inspired a new religion called Yeezianity, in which followers believe "that the one who calls himself Yeezus is a divine being who has been sent by God to usher in a New Age of humanity," according to the official website."

Effectively, throw Yeezus (Kanye West) in for Jesus in Christianity and voila, you have your own new religion. There are also the new religions' Five Commandments:

1. All things created must be for the good of all.
2. No human being’s right to express themselves must ever be repressed.
3. Money is unnecessary except as a means of exchange.
4. Man possesses the power to create everything he wants and needs.
5. All human suffering exists to stimulate the creative powers of Man.

Runner-up: Remember the movie "10 Things I Hate About You"? Remember actor Andrew Keegan playing Joey Donner? Maybe, maybe not. Like you, Keegan has moved on...to start his own New Age religion -- Full Circle. He told VICE magazine, Full Circle is "advanced spiritualism." He extrapolated, "Synchronicity. Time. That's what it's all about....Whatever, the past, some other time. It's a circle; in the center is now. That's what it's about." Okay Joey, maybe it was all that "nose spray" you talked about in "10 Things I Hate..."

Most Awkward Religious Moment – Monster Drink Satanism

Closely related to the "new religion" category is this little gem, wherein a woman explains how Monster energy drink is actually the mark of the beast -- 666 -- a portent of the anti-Christ and the impending apocalypse. Awkward.

Most Outspoken Atheist(s) – Frank Schaeffer

Son of renowned Christian author and theologian Francis Schaeffer, Frank Scaeffer is no new news. He is a gregarious and outspoken atheist who "believes in faith." But this year he got embroiled in a tit-for-tat with Christianity Today and evangelical leader Ed Stetzer over a story about Bart Campolo, son of famed Christian leaders Tony and Peggy Campolo, leaving the Christian faith. On top of all this, Frank came out with a new self-published book this year, titled Why I am an Atheist Who Believes in God: How to give love, create beauty and find peace.

En Memoriam

To those notable religious figures who lost their lives this year, we wish you, and your loved ones, peace:

Rev. Dr. Myles Monroe -- Minister and motivational speaker

Fred Phelps -- Founder of Westboro Baptist Church

Jamie Coots -- Snake-handling preacher

Sheikh Salim Bakari Mwarangi -- Kenyan Muslim cleric

*For more on religion & culture, follow @kchitwood

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Observing Advent: from contemplation to action

December 10, 2014

I was being a bad Christian on Wednesday. Texting, Tweeting, reading articles on my iPhone during an Advent service. But what began as a bored foray into digital distraction ended up becoming a pilgrimage through the heart of Advent itself.

As I scrolled through Twitter and clicked on articles on Facebook, these are the headlines that grabbed my attention:

Somali Militants, Al-Shabaab Kill 36 in Kenya Border Attack
Elephant ivory poaching 'out of control'
Wave of Protests Slam Ferguson After Grand Jury Doesn't Indict Officer
Ebola death toll rises to 6331 as Sierra Leone overtakes Liberia cases
As fears rise in Myanmar, Rohingya Muslims exodus grows
The gigantic disaster of the CIA’s torture program
2 Hostages Killed in Yemen as US Rescue Effort Fails

With my ears and body I heard, felt, and smelled Advent. Songs of expectation, the scent of a candle lit to remember the days and contemplate the coming King, and a sermon that spoke of a hope reverberating through the echo halls of the Old Testament narrative.

At the same time, with my fingers I scrolled through sad stories and my eyes read despairing diaries of pain, loss, oppression, disease, decay, disaster, and death.

In what I can only take as guidance from the Holy Spirit, the two realms of thought — that which was occurring in the physical space of my church and the digital sanctuary on my phone and in my mind — converged and suddenly the season of Advent, and its attendant spiritual posture and discipline, became crystal clear to me.

Advent is a season of celebrating the light that came into the darkness. A season of anticipating how divine life takes on death. A season of expecting love, hope, faith, and joy to win out in the face of hate, despair, fear, and apathy. It is a season that celebrates, meditates on, anticipates, and expects the movement, the action, the coming of Jesus Christ on our behalf. In these days we are invited to dwell on Jesus’ condescension to abide with us, to treasure these things in our heart along with Mary (Luke 2:19).

Yet, in my mixed meditation straddling the border between pew and social media, I became convicted that Advent cannot only be a season of retreat into ritual. My heart began to race as I felt trapped in my chair and imprisoned in digital detainment and detachment from the real world. My heart broke as I contemplated the pain that many went through as I sat here and did…nothing. My heart burst at the seams of my rib cage with the anticipation of action, with the idea of doing something, anything, to break the bonds of the oppressed and to give voice to, or at least get out of the way for the sake of, the voiceless.

In this moment of heart pounding meditation I became convicted that Advent must be more than a season of expectation, but one of engagement. More than a season of anticipation, but one of action. More than a season of meditation, but one of movement. More than a season of contemplation, but one of contending.

Much akin to Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his Letters and Papers from Prison, who said, “There remains an experience of incomparable value…to see the great events of world history from below, from the perspective of the outcasts, the suspects, the maltreated — in short, from the perspective of those who suffer.”

Looking at Twitter, I saw "history from below" in hash-tags like #CrimingWhileWhite and #ICantBreathe. But my thoughts and empathy were not enough. As Bonhoeffer continued, “mere waiting and looking on is not Christian behavior. Christians are called to compassion and to action.”

Hence, I praise those pastors who put themselves in the places of protest to pray, and proclaim, peace amidst tension and violence. I cheer Kenyan Christians who shun xenophobia in favor of Christ-like compassion. I stand in humble awe of the many medical professionals, social workers, and missionaries who serve the sick and dying in West Africa. May I humbly tread in their footsteps.

Yet, any of us who have been involved in this work of restoration know full well that complete transformation cannot, will not, come by our own power. Injustice lingers, disease is not eradicated, and conflicts persist.

And so, we return to the sense in which Advent is a season of expectation, contemplation, and action centered around the incarnation of Christ and the consummation of all creation and the entire cosmos in his second coming.

This then is Advent. A circular motion betwixt and between ritual retreat and acts of restoration. Between contemplation and compassionate service. Between Christ’s incarnation and his church’s sacramental presence in the community.

In Advent, it is tradition to pray, “come Lord Jesus, come.” As I contemplate what is happening in places like Ferguson and New York City, Bhurma and Zambia, Kenya and Syria this prayer takes on on poignant purpose. Indeed, “come Lord Jesus, come.”

Even so, simultaneously my prayer is “go Christ’s church, go.” For if we consider this season rightly, we cannot only pray — we must act. Even as action invariably leads us back to prayer because of our inadequacies, we cannot simply sit in a pew and drift into a digital duldrum.

I invite you to join me in this circumambulation through the themes of Advent, between contemplation and action -- joining anticipation with the partial realization of the deep seeded desires of humanity for HOPE, LOVE, JOY and PEACE on Earth.

Come Lord Jesus, quickly come.

"Black Jesus" premiered on Adult Swim August 7th, 2014 - just three days before peaceful protests and riots broke out in Ferguson, MO over the shooting of Michael Brown

Jesus in strange places: ‘Black Jesus’ & understanding religion & race on the margins

August 21, 2014

Every once and a while Jesus shows up in strange places.

The first time I saw Jesus appear in a peculiar place was as an adolescent at Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) thanks to my friend Birghapati, a Hare Krishna. Upon discovering I was a Christian, Birghapati opened up the book The Hidden Glory of India to share with me how Jesus, after surviving his crucifixion, traveled to India, learned under a guru, and taught there for several years. The section on “the lost years of Jesus in India” was only two pages, but in that short chapter was an entire universe of problems, possibilities, and peculiarities for me to fathom.

Encountering Jesus in a strange place thrust me into a world of healthy, albeit challenging, questions, which in turn spurred my personal spiritual progress and taught me much about religion at the margins. Your own experience of Jesus in a strange place could prompt your own discovery or, if contemplated in a community, a group’s grasping of the nature, and reality, of Jesus — even as he appears in strange places.

With the proliferation of new media sources (television shows, podcasts, webpages, social media sites), Jesus pops up everywhere and millions of people see him, or hear about him, in a relatively short period of time. He appears on hospital windows, spaghetti dinners, in Middle Eastern dreams, and in newly syndicated TV shows like “Black Jesus” — a scripted comedy on Cartoon Network’s “Adult Swim” from “The Boondocks” creator Aaron McGruder.

Each time Jesus materializes there is undoubtedly controversy concerning orthodoxy and who has the authority to adjudicate Jesus’ authentic appearances and presence. But, what if instead of immediately denouncing these outlier apparitions of Jesus, we all took the opportunity to ask a few relevant questions?

To get a grasp of what I’m going for here (and before you immediately denounce me as a heretic), let’s look at the case of “Black Jesus.” The comedy show centers on a black Jesus Christ living in contemporary Compton. His mission is to spread a gospel of kindness in “the hood” with his modern-day disciples. In the first episode, Jesus gets busted for smoking pot, only to escape being charged by transforming the marijuana into garden salad (playing off Jesus’ miracle of turning water into wine in John 2: 1-11, no doubt).

It is easy to see how many Christians could be offended by such a portrayal of their Messiah. Likewise, many African-Americans may be affronted by the stereotypes that are thrust onto a “black Jesus” who, instead of being a rousing Messiah, proves “a lazy, unemployable drug-user.” Indeed, choruses of complaint have been raised by both constituencies in the wake of the show’s recent release.

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At the same time, there are commentators and cultural pundits who are laying blasphemy and bigotry aside to ask “what can we learn from ‘Black Jesus’?” Chandra Johnson wrote in The Deseret News National:

After the collective denunciation among faith groups of Adult Swim's new show "Black Jesus," which spawned a handful of Change.org petitions, some are trying to glean deeper meaning from the show.

Now, how does this question, and others that must precede, and proceed from, it help us learn more about Jesus and religion at the margins? Here are five questions that can prompt a healthy discussion when Jesus shows up in an unexpected place:

1. Where (and when)?

The first question(s) to ask is “where does this come from?” and, subsequently, “when did this appearance first happen?” The social locatedness of a spiritual encounter is paramount in understanding what such an appearance can reveal about the people experiencing it and concerning the experience itself.

Take, for example, the various manifestations of the Virgin Mary (La Virgen) in indigenous contexts across Latin America. In Guadalupe, she co-mingles indigenous heritage with Catholic religion and becomes the symbol of a new mestizaje — a new world Mexican religious and cultural identity. Then in San Juan, she bridges and permeates borders between national identities, civil rights entities, multicultural institutions and various ethnicities. Wherever La Virgen appears, she is speaking to the culture’s need to bridge the traditional and the contemporary and to give birth to something new, salvific, and powerful, yet tender.

So what does it mean when “Black Jesus” shows up on Adult Swim? Perhaps we would best first ask “when?” This “Black Jesus” is not the first black Jesus. He comes at the end of a long line of artistic depictions of Jesus influenced by culture, political, and theological circumstances. Jesus has been depicted as black — either as African or African American — for centuries. Notably, the “Black Christ” movement helped identify Jesus’ suffering with the struggle of African Americans in the U.S. who were fighting for equality and acceptance in their own nation. Wherever Jesus has appeared as “black” he has been viewed as associating, identifying, and commiserating with those who feel oppressed because of the color of their skin.

2. Who (and when again)?

What does this mean, then, when “Black Jesus” is introduced to the Adult Swim audience? What is the significance of those to whom Jesus now appears? What does this tell us?

Adult Swim’s audience is not predominately “black.” In fact, its typical viewers’ ethnic make up is almost two-thirds “white” (62%), with a third “black” (27%), and otherwise Hispanic or “Other” (11%).

Perhaps this “Black Jesus” is introducing the concept of the “Black Christ” as liberator to an audience who is generally, or wholly, unfamiliar with this liberating figure of the marginalized and downtrodden. Or, possibly, its being used as a comedic foil and is seeking to be offensive for offense’ (and ratings’) sake.

3. Why?

And this unveils the important question of “why this ‘Black Jesus?’” Aaron McGruder is no rank-and-file comedian solely seeking laughs and high marks. He is a social commentator who formerly used his characters on “The Boondocks” to speak to pertinent issues in politics and culture. He did so with a young African-American voice, “one that never backed down with his satire in the face of criticism and one that showed we weren’t just a materialistic, money-hungry generation…” but one that cared about the political and social issues of the nation, and world, at large.

Conceivably, McGruder and the Adult Swim team are not only making Jesus funny, and cool, for their white, hipster-fied, demographic, they are also introducing a distinctly “black” voiced Jesus into the “wide world of white” to peel back the surface and expose the nitty-gritty, real-world, issues that the African-American population in the U.S. deals with on a daily basis.

4. What?

This leads to the central question that those who seek to grow from their encounter with “Black Jesus” are asking — “what can we learn from this show?”

Comedy, especially when it is offensive, pushes boundaries of what is acceptable in society in order to transgress the current cultural order and be a trailblazer for change.

As The Deseret News National shared,

minister Christopher House took a different tact entirely on The Huffington Post, saying the show was an opportunity for Christian reflection. ‘Identification precedes personal, spiritual and social salvation,’ House wrote. ‘Rather than simply dismissing the show as being blasphemous, maybe we should continue to watch with an awareness of contemporary issues and a strong sense of irony. To do so would ask us to consider what then does it mean to have a black Jesus living and moving in impoverished black spaces?’

To see how relevant, and important, that question, and “Black Jesus,” can be, look no further than #Ferguson. McGruder could not have foreseen the future, but the timing of the release of “Black Jesus” could likewise not have come at a more (in)convenient time. As our nation wrestles with racial stereotypes and spills blood and sparks fires on the streets of St. Louis, “Black Jesus” no longer seems a laughing matter, but one of serious contemporary import. That “Black Jesus” is on view on a network that appeals predominately to “Whites” might be the most consequential element of this manifestation.

5. How?

But how can all of this even be possible? How can it be the case that Jesus can be morphed, co-opted, reshaped, and re-cast in so many cultural, religious, and political molds?

Without delving into the debate about the veracity of the various ethnic and cultural portrayals of Jesus throughout the ages, this latest likeness of Christ testifies to the continually potent, and potentially problematic, “translation principle” proposed and popularized by Lamin Sanneh.

In his book Translating the Message: The Missionary Impact on Culture and several other essays and works, Yale scholar Sanneh expounded upon the idea that “translation” is embedded in the Christian message, and particularly the life and ministry of Jesus. From a missionary perspective, “Christianity is recognizable only in the embodied idioms and values of the cultures in which we find it,” Sanneh wrote in Global Theology in Evangelical Perspective. There is much potential here, as the “the receiving culture [becomes] the decisive destination of God’s salvific promise….” However, there is also inherent danger, as “mission as translation” commits to a bold and radical step that may lead to the “muddying of the waters” and leave Jesus at the mercy of various “cultural makeovers.” This leads to contested theories of who, and what, Jesus was and is.

Ever since he was born, the masses have argued over who Jesus is and who he claimed to be. There are many contemporary voices that make the claim to authenticity in a religiously, ethnically, and culturally diverse world. Who has the claim to say that their Jesus is the correct Jesus? Who doesn’t have that authority? Is “Black Jesus” an authentic Jesus? These are good questions to wrestle with in your community.

As the debate rages on what can be gleaned are the following points:

Taking a step back to ask hard questions about “Black Jesus” allows for us to learn more about how people view Jesus and what is inherently “translatable” about him.
It also permits us the opportunity to view religion from the margins and associate with religious, and cultural, “others” whose ethnic, social, or political locus may be wholly unfamiliar to us.
Finally, we can use these above questions and guidelines to ask similar questions of other spiritual experiences and manifestations. When the Virgin Mary appears on toast, Krishna becomes a superhero, the Buddha is found in the butcher shop, or the Qur’an is hung on the wall for an art installation we can ask the significance of where this has shown up; to whom it appeared; why to them, in this place, at this time; what does it mean; and how is this even possible.

Perhaps these points will not lead us to “truth,” but instead to a deeper understanding of the multifaceted and complex ways that people experience the sacred mystically, sacramentally, and prophetically in a media-rich and multi-religious world. Often, these experiences are not “authentic” in that they conform to the orthodox code, but they are authentic insofar as they are experienced. So that begs the question of why they are experienced and what that means for the religion for which they bear the most consequence.

In this instance, “Black Jesus” has appeared and we have experienced the phenomenon. What does this tell us about Jesus? What does this tell us about "us?" What can we learn, and apply, from this manifestation whether it be authentic or heretical, comedic or blasphemous?