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  • Justice Is Relational (part 1)

    August 23rd, 2010 | 1 Comment »

    My wife and I share the great joy of overseeing and leading a community of people called the Justice League in my hometown of Concord, CA.  Put simply, the Justice League is a community in Concord, CA committed to the work of Justice. Our focuses (or “foci”) are Local Poverty, Public Schools, Human Trafficking/Responsible Consumerism and Global Poverty (with a select group of Global Partnerships). At a recent Justice League gathering, I shared a video of Gideon Strauss speaking at Gordon College on the topic of Justice.  His talk was entitled “Justice Is Not Optional,” but I highlighted something I found more intriguing about his talk; the idea that Justice is relational.

    During his talk, Gideon defines Justice as “treating creatures according to how God created them; (forging) relationships with God’s creatures in such a way as to give them their due as what they are.”  Gideon is suggesting that Justice is relational; that in order to offer justice to someone, I must have a knowledge of who that person is intended to be in full bloom, unhindered by poverty, oppression or whatever obstacle lies in their path.

    I find that idea very challenging.

    Gideon goes on to say “Justice cannot be reduced to some kind of mute, rough equality.”  It is this “rough equality” I generally default to in my thinking about Justice.  Most often, even my most sincere emotional response to injustice amounts to something like “Let’s find some surplus money among us and throw it at this ‘situation’ in order to fix it.”  It is an easier kind of justice in the long run, since it costs very little.

    I’m beginning to realize that the justice I normally envision is mostly a conceptual blanket which only hides the dappled, shifting landscape of creation and particularly humanity, but does nothing to legitimately heal and repair.  It’s the kind of justice that emotionally and eagerly responds to distress with the generalized idea that “we” (a word which also lacks clarity) have to make this “right” when we may not have spent the time to orient ourselves in order to know what “right” looks like in a particular place or for a particular person.

    The kind of justice Gideon describes includes (in fact, requires) an intricate and even personal knowledge of the systems, cities and persons in need of justice, as well as a keen awareness of the limitations, needs and presumptions of those working for it.  A person living in Concord, CA, for instance, would need to know the city of Concord in order to do justice in Concord or for its people. But, knowing a city is an enormous endeavor; requiring great amounts of time and patience.  It is not the kind of thing one envisions doing in the moment he or she is moved to action by the sudden knowledge that Concord’s “Monument Corridor” is one of the fastest growing poverty traps in California…

    (Continued in part II coming soon.  In the meantime… feel free to work on this.)

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    New Song From FEJMILRS Webcast

    August 19th, 2010 | 1 Comment »

    For those who caught the FEJMILRS webcast* last night, you were exposed to a new song. Note that I didn’t say you were “treated” to a new song. I would hardly be so assuming as to say that it was a treat… I can say that I liked it.  Below are the lyrics to the new song.  The working title is “What We Want.”  (no relation whatsoever to the 2000 film release entitled “What Women Want” starring Mel Gibson). It will be one of the songs that makes up my next project, which is a followup to the Untitled EP.

    v1
    It’s not about the drinking
    It’s all about the being drunk
    Like it’s not with whom you’re sleeping
    It’s with whom you wake up

    pre-chorus
    It’s not about the wars you fight
    it’s whether or not you win
    Not so  much about being right
    As not letting all the wrong ones in

    Chorus
    See, we all want that resurrection
    But we don’t want to die
    We all want that sweet salvation
    WIthout the bitterness of sacrifice

    v2
    It’s not about forgiveness
    It’s about making sure they know
    You’re the one they’ve injured
    You’re just too strong to let it show

    v3
    It’s not about believing
    It’s about making it look good
    So that when you lose your reason
    You just keep doing what you should.


    (**if you missed the FEJMILRS, there are rumors [and they are only rumors] that there will be further broadcasts.)

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    FEJMILRS

    August 18th, 2010 | 1 Comment »

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    My Blog Exploded Anne There Is Rice Everywhere: a follow-up to my letter to Anne Rice

    August 2nd, 2010 | 14 Comments »

    There were many responses at this blog to my “Open Letter to Anne Rice.”  A good bit over 100. I read all of them, though not every one of them was posted.**  I responded to most of those I read, particularly because I kept seeing the same set of basic assumptions popping up. I promise not to squeeze any more life out of this moment than there is, but below is a short(ish) response to two of the more prevalent assumptions underlying many reader comments. (PLEASE NOTE: this is not a further commentary on Anne Rice’s announcement; it is a response to common assumptions found in the reader comments on my initial letter)

    The first prevalent assumption among those who commented on my previous post was that I am “an idiot.” Pffssst… chyeah, right.  Am not.

    The second is that I am “a jackass.”  Now, that I can buy.

    Actual Assumption #1:
    The “Human Element” of Religion

    There was, present in many of the comments posted, the assumption that one can remove the “human element” from religion.  It’s an immensely problematic idea and here is why I think so:  Many, if not most, would agree that religion is a human construct; that we made it up. Religion is either the way we go about seeking some Divine Source we can only hope and believe is really there underneath it all or it is our poetic and philosophical effort to make lemonade from the lemons of life.  Therefore, if one ascribes to this idea of religion, then all there is to it is the human element.  We are either reaching out for “God” who couldn’t possibly have had anything to do with this circus of dogmas and funny robes or we’re deluding ourselves in order to cope with the absurdity of life.

    In that light, let’s suppose that one’s entire religious practice was made up of silent meditation alone in a room in an empty building in an abandoned city whose residents had been eaten by zombies who then, themselves died from side effects of the 5-Hour Energy Drink stored in the blood streams of the very alert people they had eaten (I’m just trying to paint a picture of isolation here… stick with me). Even in that very isolated scenario, the practice of meditation would have had to be learned from someone else.  Be it face to face or in written form or by instructional video, the transference of religious knowledge or spiritual practice is always a human process; People teaching people to be (ostensibly) better people. Religion is people.

    So, if religion is a human construct and you remove the “human element” from it you are left with nothing.. which would make many among us just as happy… until the zombies show up.

    But what if you are just crazy enough to believe that The Divine communicates directly to people?  Luckily, I am just such a nut. So is Anne Rice. We’re nuts, Anne and I!  You see, I believe, along with Anne Rice, that God has revealed Himself to His Creation over many, many years.  We believe that the pinnacle in this long history of revelation is the Incarnation of Jesus Christ; God becoming man.  This tradition makes the elimination of the “human element” problematic in that God, with every phase of revelation over the course of history, has intentionally and consistently chosen the human element; even to the extreme of becoming human. Prophets, Priests, Teachers, Guides, Rulers, etc.. all human, as was Jesus of Nazareth.  So while we might be a ripe mess, it seems that in some strange way we are the mess God wants.

    Furthermore, this same tradition shuns the individualistic practice of faith in which religion is “just between God and me.”  The instructions or teachings that have accompanied each phase of revelation are communal instructions and teachings.   The teachings of Christ in particular are teachings spoken to crowds of people rather than to individuals.  They were/are designed to create a culture of forgiveness, generosity and hope rather than just individuals marked by those traits. Christ’s methods were and are communal: He called a group of twelve people to himself and taught them as a collective. He taught the masses who followed him.  Meanwhile, despite his deep criticism of Judaism, Jesus nonetheless continued to teach within that system; in its synagogues and to the communities gathered there around Torah.  I think it’s safe to say that, even if one is unsure as to His “agenda,” Jesus sought (and seeks) to accomplish his goal by reshaping the way people live, not as individuals, but together… until the  zombies show up.

    Actual Assumption #2:
    The “End” of Religious Practice

    Lastly (I promise) throughout the comments, there seemed to be a further assumption that the practice of religion is intended for the improvement of ones self.  Agreed… but.  That is not it’s end.  A better self is particularly better insofar as that better self can then help other selves become better selves.  There is a responsibility that comes with health, blessing and wisdom; the responsibility to pass it on. The healing of our own lives becomes a gift we have the privilege and responsibility to offer others.  But even that is not the end.

    The better self helps others be better selves and they, together, become better communities which, in turn, create better neighborhoods, better cities and better cultures which eventually, hopefully and prayerfully transform the face of nations and the globe into the shape and pattern of what Jesus called “the Kingdom.” Christ’s “end” from the very beginning was to redeem all things and all people, reconciling them to the Father and instating His Kingdom on earth as a dwelling place for all of God’s creation. A dwelling place with the foundations of Justice, Mercy and Love.  Any religious (or irreligious) idea which excludes an entire people group from this vision is out of line with that vision and its Architect.  In this light, if someone really “gets it,” the last thing one ought to do is disconnect themselves from those who don’t get it. George Bernard Shaw said it thusly: ”I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die.”


    DISCLAIMER: All this is only my opinion, which I will continue to force down peoples’ throats by posting it here on my own blog where you are all morally and legally obliged to click and scroll until I am through controlling you; after which point you are free to move on and linger at the far more entertaining and informative Daily Show page.. That is, of course.. until the zombies show up.

    **(comments I did not post were generally those that were only insulting without offering content… also ignored were any comments submitted by Yankee fans.)

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    Open Letter to Anne Rice

    July 30th, 2010 | 128 Comments »

    I stumbled across Anne Rice’s decision to “give up” on christianity through the PatrolMag.com posting.  She had originally made the declaration on her Facebook Fan Page. After reading her statement, I felt compelled to write the below letter:

    Dear Anne,

    I am sure that this post is one among many responding to your announcement that you are disassociating yourself from Christianity.  You wrote that your disgust with “this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group” has led you to the conclusion that you “simply cannot belong” to us.

    I feel you,  Anne. I really do.  I’ve had similar thoughts and even expressed them publicly. I don’t mind at all the desire or even the need to stand at some distance from the label of christianity.  It may well have been worn through.  But I take issue with the notion that you must disassociate  yourself from ‘christian’ people. I mean sure, we’re a motley lot.  Belonging to this family can often feel like you’ve adopted a few thousand drunk uncles.  It’s incredibly embarrassing at times and frustrating at least as often. I get it.  But I also read that you’re making your move “in the name of Christ” and that presents a rather perplexing dilemma for someone who wants to quit on people.  You see, Christ hasn’t quit on us and if you choose to align yourself with Him, then neither can you.

    Aligning yourself with Christ means aligning yourself with Someone who not only declared his love for all God’s children (believer or not), but suffered and died in order to establish and maintain a relationship with those children.  It is this redemptive sacrifice that defines His love as characteristically His.  Having chosen to follow His example, it seems that at least part of the redemptive sacrifice you are being challenged to make is to associate and identify yourself with this shabby batch of miscreants who are often quite bad at practicing the religion you love.  It comes at the cost of your ego and likely some book sales.  But that’s the nature of sacrifice; it costs you. It will cost you if people see you as being family to those “anti-gay, anti-feminist, anti-artificial birth, anti-Democrat, anti-secular humanism, anti-science” types among us.  Just as it costs Jesus to be seen as their Savior and Lord. Just as it cost him to be seen with prostitutes and whatnot.  It is the same social role-play with a different set of cultural lenses on. All your statement does is trade in “bigots” for “whores” when the heart of Christ is that they’re both beloved of the Father.

    It’s simply reasonable that if you set yourself against people who set themselves against people you are only adding to the friction. If part of your issue with christianity is it’s exclusivity, you aren’t helping by only including those who “get it” the way you do.  True christian inclusivity means embracing the homosexual and the gay-basher in the same embrace; working for the release of the oppressed while praying and working for the redemption of their oppressor; loving the beautiful game of baseball and yet, somehow, also loving the Yankees.  It means loving the Lord with all of yourself and also loving those who grossly misrepresent Him.

    I think you’re smart, Anne. I think you’ll hear some thoughtful feedback and realize you stepped across a line and might have to retract your statement.  You will also likely have to speak directly with Christ about the way you roughly labeled and dismissed the ones He’s drawn to himself and suffered to love.  Lucky for you, lucky for all of us, He’s incredibly forgiving and eternally patient.

    In the name of Christ,
    Justin McRoberts

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    Save Me (part II)

    July 29th, 2010 | No Comments »

    I’ve been writing a series of blogs on the songs that make up my most recent release, a covers project entitled “Through Songs I Was First Undone.”  The moments I’ve had with the artists whose music makes up this album have been sacred moments. These artists and their songs have been central to the necessary undoing of the expectations and limitations I habitually place on God and humanity.

    Here is part two of why Aimee Mann’s “Save Me” is on the album:

    In the same way that Aimee Mann’s work has guided me towards a responsible undoing of my expectation/temptation to resolve songs, the cultural counterpart to this same thought also resonates with me.  Despite having grown up outside a particular religious tradition (raised by wolves) I had been somewhat culturally trained to think of “being saved” as a specific kind of resolution; particularly that it was something very final… something that happened in a singular moment with a one-time agreement.  Like chancing upon a lifetime membership to my Happy Place.

    The odd thing about this understanding of “being saved” is that, since I’ve followed Jesus, it has all the more grated against my experience of life and faith.  My ‘conversion’ didn’t take place all in a moment and certainly has been a happy experience at times but never consistently.  My being “saved” never felt like something snapped into place after which I was then on my way.  I’ve experienced the waxing and waning of actual change in my life and the same waxing and waning of faith that my life’s change is authentic and lasting.  Less than a one-time agreement, it’s been more like fits and starts, in all honesty.

    Sara Miles, in her book “Take This Bread” writes: “Conversion isn’t a moment: it’s process and it keeps happening, with cycles of acceptance and resistance, epiphany and doubt.”

    A process of cycles and seasons.  That sounds like it.  Something more like the growing of a branch connected to a vine.. born invisibly, growing in shoots and perhaps too quickly… needing to be pruned.. growing again and bearing fruit.. but then.. Fall.. Winter and the long, dark hope that Spring will come again, bringing a greater abundance of fruit.  The work of a good gardener, salvation is not the magic and surgically sterile removal of my life from “this world” or even the mystical transcendence of my own base humanness.  It is the strange, messy and (dare I say) unfinished business of becoming a complete human being… one like Jesus.

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