For Want of a Shoe…Discalced Diplomacy

The first question that many of my readers might have is, “What does discalced mean?” It simply means “without shoes”. In Exodus 3:4-6 we see God revealed himself to Moses at the burning bush with the command for him to take off his sandals.

When the Lord saw that he turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Do not come near; take your sandals off your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” And he said, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.

Even today, many cultures do not wear their shoes into homes or

houses of worship because they know the street is unclean and don’t want to track the grime and gutter-grunge of their world into the presence of their hosts.

There were men and women of faith in centuries past that who became convinced that the monastic orders of which they were a part had grown too worldly, and were seeking their own pleasure instead of being wholehearted followers of Jesus. It seems that they irritated their own people with all their talk of reform and either chose—or were forced—to leave and start their own missional communities. One sign of their devotion was to stop wearing shoes, or later, to wear only sandals. For example, St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross started the Discalced Carmelite orders in the 16^th Century.

My story has nothing to do with medieval mendicant orders, at least not directly. But they removed their shoes as a symbol of a radical commitment to follow Jesus rather compromising their convictions to serve the status quo.

Some years ago I had a similar experience. I was at a gathering of pastors and leaders from a number of churches for a three day time of mutual encouragement and seeking the Lord together without the normal conference-style agenda. During our last time of gathered worship, I felt strongly that the Lord wanted me to take off my shoes.  I have to confess that I wasn’t very open to the idea. To my rational German/British upbringing it made no sense, and I could discern no explanation for the prompting. The music was quite loud in a rather small space so I moved to the back of the room to sort things out and preserve what was left of my hearing. While standing there in the midst of a time of praise I finally made the decision to obey the prompting of the Holy Spirit and humble myself by removing my shoes…opening myself up to potential embarrassment if questioned. It was a profound moment of surrender, over a very simple request, where I had to trust that responding to the Lord was more important than any appearances. After the service ended, I put on my shoes and headed for the airport to fly home. Still, I had no explanation in my heart, from the Lord, about why I had been asked to take my shoes off. There was not even a hint of the “for this is holy ground” that Moses had received at the burning bush. However, I knew that at that moment I was in right relationship with the Lord and wasn’t holding anything back.  

On the flight to Atlanta, I was privileged to sit next to a critical care nurse headed to visit her aging mother in California. After a time of chatting about my destination in Oregon, she labeled herself as a “lapsed Catholic New Age practitioner.” Upon hearing this I asked her to tell me about what that meant. She was surprised that I was interested, saying “Most Christians I meet don’t want to hear anything about what I believe.” This led to a delightfully serene conversation about our core convictions while the plane was increasingly batted about by the thunderstorm raging outside.

At one point she confessed that she could tell that I must be “a holy man” for I had “very clean energy.” I thanked her for the compliment. At that point, I realized that if I hadn’t humbled myself at the Lord’s request just a couple of hours earlier, she would probably not have noticed any “clean energy” emanating from me. It was the Holy Spirit that guided me in an unhurried, patient, and kind approach, my discalced diplomacy if you will, which created space for thoughtful and authentic interaction to occur. I consciously left my ideological shoes at the door so as to hear her in her own words, instead of parroting of all the anti-New Age authors and apologists I may have heard in the past.

I listened respectfully, asked clarifying questions when necessary, and thanked her genuinely for helping me understand her perspective, with only the admission, “that is very different from what I believe.” A few minutes later she asked me about my beliefs and how they were different from her own.

As things grew more turbulent outside, I noticed there were others listening in on our conversation. There was the woman one row in front of us who had turned her head so that she could listen through the gap between the seat-backs.  There was the middle-linebacker looking man across the aisle whose reddened face and bulging neck veins who made me wonder if he disagreed with what I was saying or was fighting airsickness. To my surprise, once we landed, a co-worker of mine, who had been seated five or six rows away said that everyone around us had been listening and he had been praying for hearts to be receptive to the gospel presented conversationally.

There is a verse of conventional wisdom, nearly a thousand years old, which says,

For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost.
For want of a rider the message was lost.
For want of a message the battle was lost.
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

The proverbial lesson, that every small detail matters, is not lost on me. We have no excuse to be lazy or careless in our calling. Yet I also know the Lord often works in counter-intuitive ways.

 

So, what if we intentionally took our metaphorical shoes off when engaging others with diverse perspectives and world-views? What would happen if we simply took off the ideological combat boots of the culture wars and the supple-to-hand designer shoes of our consumption-based economy, and went barefoot for a bit? Then after slowing down and stepping on a rock or two we tried to walk in the other person’s proverbial moccasins for a mile or so.

I remember having to walk down a gravel road to the beach and back many times while growing up and most often we were barefoot. The gravel was uneven and sharp which made the trip painful, slow, and a bit unsteady as we tried to pick our way through and find the best route for everyone. Perhaps we should approach our times of inter-faith and multi-ethnic diplomacy the same way…slowly and sacredly.

 

“Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person.” (Col. 4:6)

[Update: I wrote this five years ago, but in recent weeks we have seen the world changed by the Covid-19 virus. Many areas are on lockdown or at least social distancing. One thing that public health leaders advised early on was to not wear shoes in the house. Instead of potentially tracking the virus into our homes, let's take off our physical and metaphorical shoes out of love for others!]

Jousting

This post is an assigned response to a 2013 post by Paul Louis Metzger entitled, Humanize Religion: A Seminary Class Discussion with a Pagan and a Former Druid , where he encourages us to see the adherents of other religions not as enemies to fight, but as people to relate with.

This idea of humanizing religion, or seeing people as people with a story that needs to be heard, intrigues me. I believe that until we have listened well we do best not to speak. Dr. Metzger’s guest speaker on Paganism, Jason Pitzl-Waters, said, “The better you understand us the better your outreach. Caricatures will never lead to a connection with Pagans. Having actual human moments with people of other faiths leads to empathy.” This statement has an even wider application than inter-religious dialogue. It is true in regard to our efforts at racial reconciliation as well. Having actual human moments with others tends to bring us together, rather than drive us apart.

I was impressed at Pitzl-Waters’ bringing of another guest whose very real faith story made his own pagan position a harder play to run. I can respect that. Don’t you want to bring your ideas and beliefs to engage with the best representation and understanding of the beliefs of others? Tilting against windmills and the burning of straw men neither delivers the oppressed, nor do they nourish the hungry, heal the sick, or comfort those who mourn. Life is not usually simple, but it can be a great adventure as well as authentically missional. I wrote about this just last week in Negotiating the Bridge, asking,

Can we continue to be authentic in our beliefs while fully listening to the beliefs of others? If we think that this is unacceptable for us to do, then certainly we cannot expect their attitude to be any different. If we hope to apply diplomacy to the areas of faith and culture we need to learn to negotiate differently than what we might see from a tourist haggling with a bazaar merchant over the price and quality of a samovar.

 

Dr. Metzger also writes that “Jason encouraged my class to approach people of different paths as people, not members of enemy armies.” Great advice! When I read this, I pictured the scene from the movie Braveheart when Edward “Longshanks”, the brutal English king, sends his Irish conscripts to attack the Scots, “Use up the Irish. Dead men cost nothing.” As the two armies run screaming toward one another they meet in the middle but instead of killing each other, they greet each other as brothers before turning to fight the English together. While this scene is not historically accurate, it is a good story and might be an apt metaphor to consider in our efforts to engage those of other religions.

 

Our Christian scriptures make it clear that any fight we have is not with other people. The Apostle Paul wrote to the followers of Jesus that lived in Ephesus,

Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. (Ephesians 6:10-12—NKJV)

It would appear that one of “the wiles of the devil” is to get us to fight the wrong battles while using the wrong weapons and tactics. Lesslie Newbigin wrote that “Their conflict is not against human beings. It is against the spiritual power that is—how shall we say it?—behind, within, and above human beings. It is this that we have to address.”[1] He goes further to suggest that “principalities and powers” may also refer to the evil systems and structures of political and economic power in the world.

I have been speaking of entities which are not just individual human beings, flesh and blood in Pauline language, but which yet exist and have power. I have been speaking of norms, roles, and structures. We have to acknowledge the reality and the power of these things, and we have to ask what the gospel has to do with them.[2]

When we make those whom we perceive to disagree with us out to be an enemy to be defeated, we are “tilting at windmills” like Cervantes’ character, Don Quixote who jousted with windmills that in the madness of his self-deception he thought to be giants. Wherever he goes he makes a mess and people are glad to be rid of him. Followers of Jesus should not be so. We should bring out the best in people because we are welcoming, open, honest, kind, and have learned to listen well. We should always seek to humanize others through our words and through our deeds.

While the Bible teaches that we are in the midst of a spiritual war, the weapons we use are not the weapons of the world be they blade, bomb, or baiting. Biblical martyrdom does not involve taking the lives of others but rather bringing eternal life to them, even at the cost of our own. I offer one final quote from Newbigin,

The victory of the Church over the demonic power which was embodied in the Roman imperial system was not won by seizing the levers of power: it was won when the victims knelt down in the Coliseum and prayed in the name of Jesus for the Emperor. The soldiers in Christ's victorious army were not armed with the weapons of this age; they were the martyrs whose robes were washed in blood. It was not that a particular Emperor was discredited and displaced; it was that the entire mystique of the Empire, its spiritual power, was unmasked, disarmed, and rendered powerless.[3]

There is a scene I love in Steven Spielberg’s 1991 movie, Hook, where the late Robin Williams, as the now grown-up Peter Pan, has forgotten who he is and what he can do. One of the “Lost Boys” gets close and touches his face searchingly, much like a blind person might, and then says, “There you are Peter!” 

"There you are, Peter!"

I believe that all people are worthy of respect for they are indeed image-bearers (Genesis 1:26). The mark of their Maker is still upon them… though it is often hard to recognize from a distance, especially when we have our visors down.

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[1] Lesslie Newbigin. The Gospel in a Pluralist Society (p. 203). Kindle Edition.

[2] Ibid. 206.

[3] Ibid. 210.

Negotiating the Bridge (Bridge-building 4)

Postcard Circa 1930.

I have recently been driving across what Wikipedia says was “the longest and highest cantilever bridge in the United States” at the time that it was opened…nearly 85 years ago (March 29, 1930). Just so that you know, crossing bridges makes me a little bit nervous… especially when I find out how old they are! This particular bridge was designed by Joseph Strauss, who was the engineer of the Golden Gate Bridge so it has that in its favor. Counting approaches it is 8,192 feet long with its longest span reaching 1200 feet 210 feet above the river below. The designers claimed that any vessel then in existence, including a fully rigged clipper ship, could pass under it successfully. I agree it is a very tall bridge! Can you guess where it is?

Golden Gate Bridge in the fog.

Over the last year, I have written several times on the subject of bridge building. I have used the metaphor to introduce posts on the need to engage others cross-culturally (Bridge-Building In A Chaotic World), to take time to do adequate and authentic listening as an indispensable phase of construction (Bridge-Building 2: "Relational Impact Studies") where we prove that we “can be trusted to safely treasure the story, needs, and longings of others” or if we skip this step, “our efforts a bridge-building will be seen more as an invasion and occupation rather than an authentic connection.” And finally, I wrote about how building well includes a consideration of behavioral tolerances at points where we don’t agree (Bridge-Building 3: Tolerances & Tighteners, Gaps & Grips). I wrote, “Finding common points of agreement or meeting places is important if we are going to build effective bridges.” But, after so much water under the metaphorical bridge, what about working towards agreement on beliefs not merely on behaviors?

Can we continue to be authentic in our beliefs while fully listening to the beliefs of others? If we think that this is unacceptable for us to do, then certainly we cannot expect their attitude to be any different. If we hope to apply diplomacy to the areas of faith and culture we need to learn to negotiate differently than what we might see from a tourist haggling with a bazaar merchant over the price and quality of a samovar.  

“Whether a negotiation concerns a contract, a family quarrel, or a peace settlement among nations, people routinely engage in positional bargaining. Each side takes a position, argues for it, and makes concessions to reach a compromise.”[1]

We are generally faced with one of two negotiating tactics—hard or soft—and neither produces a solution that is best for both parties. In Getting To Yes, Fisher, Ury, and Patton describe these approaches.

The soft negotiator wants to avoid personal conflict and so makes concessions readily to reach [an] agreement. He or she wants an amicable resolution; yet often ends up exploited and feeling bitter.

The hard negotiator sees any situation as a contest of wills in which the side that takes the more extreme position and holds out longer fares better. He or she wants to win; yet often ends up producing an equally hard response that exhausts the negotiator and his or her resources and harms the relationship with the other side.[2]

If negotiation was only to choose between these two flawed outcomes then there would be very little hope for Christian diplomacy.

There is a third way to negotiate, a way neither hard nor soft, but rather both hard and soft. The method of principled negotiation developed at the Harvard Negotiation Project is to decide issues on their merits rather than through a haggling process focused on what each side says it will and won’t do. It suggests that you look for mutual gains whenever possible, and that where your interests conflict, you should insist that the result be based on some fair standards independent of the will of either side. The method of principled negotiation is hard on the merits, and soft on the people.[3]

The bridge which I mentioned earlier was only built after long negotiations at the local, state, and national levels. It was opposed by the city of Portland (50 miles away) because they thought that it would negatively impact shipping via the river and their collection of tolls on their own bridge. Once the designers successfully made arguments at the State and Federal levels that what they were building was high enough that shipping wouldn’t be hindered the project was cleared to proceed. At this point, it would seem that most interests of all parties involved were met, with the exception of determining the exact location on the Oregon side.

When practicing diplomacy in a multi-faith context, we would do well to make use of the four main elements of principled negotiation. We may be able to do more, but we should not do less.

People: Separate the people from the problem.

Interests: Focus on interests, not positions.

Options: Invent multiple options looking for mutual gains before deciding what to do.

Criteria: Insist that the result be based on some objective standard.[4]

What do you think? Do these approaches fit into a Christian approach to engaging the world? Would following such guidelines serve to lower the polarizing rhetoric and truly work for the common good?

Looking to the Northeast into Washington

Sometimes we have to slow the push for our own agenda in order to achieve the best results for everyone. By the way, the original speed limit on the Lewis and Clark Bridge was 20 MPH and currently remains at a moderate 35 MPH. I find that plenty fast enough…if you want to negotiate the bridge and enjoy the view a little longer!

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[1] Fisher, Roger; Ury, William L.; Patton, Bruce (2011-05-03). Getting to Yes: Negotiating Agreement Without Giving In (Kindle Locations 344-346). Penguin Group US. Kindle Edition.

[2] Ibid. (Kindle Locations 318-322).

[3] Ibid. (Kindle Locations 323-327).

[4] Ibid. (Kindle Locations 499-506).

Trash-talking

This week’s blog post is in response to a post by Paul Louis Metzger and John W. Morehead who wrote a response addressed to both the religious and the irreligious following a controversial “atheist invocation” at a Lake Worth, Florida City Commission meeting. Their post can be found here. The irreligious invocation offered at that meeting was considered by many to be deliberately mocking of many religious systems and advocated for their being discarded from the public square. Metzger and Morehead’s response calls instead for civil dialogue, free from mocking on either side that allows us to work together for the common good. Working for the “common good” seems like a good idea, but how does one determine what is good? Why should one side be able to dictate the ground rules so that the other side has to check their convictions at the door? Sounds like intellectual gun control by a nervous sheriff to me.

The particular objection, in this case, is the practice of opening public meetings with a prayer of invocation. However, that seems to reveal an ignorance of their purpose and the common good that is served for religious and irreligious alike. Invocations are essentially an act of humility, a request for help that if not a direct request of elected officials is the desire of the people served and is offered up for the common good. 

It would seem to be a more sincere “invocation” by an atheist if they were simply to offer a moment of silence (since they don’t believe there is anyone to which we should pray) enabling participants to reflect on values to be applied during the meeting to follow, or perhaps to recite a list of commonly held community virtues and expectations that should guide officials in their leadership duties. Denigrating another person’s religion or irreligion should not be part of any invocation. In fact, it mocks it. Atheistic mocking of people of faith shows how intolerant the mockers can be. Yet it can also be a good reminder to Christians and other religionists to not pray or rant disparagingly against other groups. In my opinion, an invocation should not be a time to do evangelism or “devangelism” as the case may be, but to ask that the common good might be sought through the meeting to follow.

In the Florida case in question, many have objected to the man’s mocking tone in his mention of the various religions and have cautioned against such strident confrontation. I agree with Metzger and Morehead that such inflammatory methods do not lead to an increase in civil discourse or a greater sense of the “common good.” I personally don’t like our culture of trash-talking our opponents be it in sports, politics, science, or in sermons. To be honest, too many religious leaders spend too much time mocking other religious groups in their communications with their own adherents. There are Imams demonizing Christians and Jews in their messages, Christian pastors mocking Mormons, Muslims, Pagans, and yes even Atheists (especially during April) from the pulpit, while Mormons mock Evangelicals' “salvation by grace”, etc. Should it surprise us when an Atheist mocks us all as well? Nope. But the whole level of rhetoric does sadden me.

While I agree that insulting someone is not civil or kind and will not be a part of my own engagement methodology, in an effort at full disclosure, I would like to point out that the Bible does contain examples of trash-talking, though it certainly is not presented as a prescriptive.

Case #1 Sacrificial Showdown of Century featuring Elijah vs. the 450 prophets of Baal and the 400 prophets of Asherah in the Mt. Carmel amphitheater.  In this situation, Elijah outnumbered 950 to one did in fact boldly “mock” the tiring prophets of Baal, but not with an intent to discourage them but to spur them on to give their best efforts in dancing, shouting, and cutting.

And at noon Elijah mocked them, saying, “Cry aloud, for he is a god. Either he is musing, or he is relieving himself, or he is on a journey, or perhaps he is asleep and must be awakened.” And they cried aloud and cut themselves after their custom with swords and lances, until the blood gushed out upon them. And as midday passed, they raved on until the time of the offering of the oblation, but there was no voice. No one answered; no one paid attention. (1 Kings 18:27-29, ESV)

As a result, he got them to give a few more hours of effort before they gave up. Then he even handicapped himself by soaking his sacrifices and wood in water. He wanted to make sure that the people knew God was making a point.

There are a number of other examples such as Judges 16, where Delilah mocked Samson, but that didn’t turn out well for the Philistines in the end. Another is 2 Kings 18-19 where the Rabshakeh sent by Sennacherib king of Assyria mocked God before King Hezekiah and the people and God destroyed their army of 185,000 in a single night. Not the results they had desired. Even the people of Israel, who decided that their own wisdom was better than that of the Lord, became mockers and sealed their own fate.
 

The Lord, the God of their fathers, sent persistently to them by his messengers, because he had compassion on his people and on his dwelling place. But they kept mocking the messengers of God, despising his words and scoffing at his prophets, until the wrath of the Lord rose against his people, until there was no remedy. (2 Chronicles 36:15-16)

I don’t want to be a mocker of what is true, nor do I desire to deride what is false, even if some believe it to be an effective technique to “get into the head” of their opponent. I would much rather speak encouragement to them to bring their best effort, their most rigorous argument, their most impassioned plea to the debate and have the courage and consideration to expect the same from me; having done that, to listen fully to each other, yearning to understand if not to agree. Now that would be worth the price of admission.

“…let us, above all, love one another, not to obtain mythical rewards for ourselves now, hereafter, or based on superstitious threats of eternal damnation, but rather, embrace secular-based principles of morality – and do good for goodness’ sake.” (Quotation taken from The Palm Beach Post article by Chris Persaud).

This quote causes me to wonder how we might arrive at secular-based principles of morality. This sounds like an intriguing line of inquiry. Is that a certain morality that encourages behavior that leads to a survival of the fittest in a Social Darwinist redux, or a “live and let live” laissez-faire bowl of platitude porridge for the philosophically lobotomized? Who is left to engage others through their convictions in order to determine what secular morality might be? What then is the “good” that we are supposed to do, how can we know it is, in fact, good, and while we are at it how can we do it for “goodness’ sake” since goodness is not a person to have a sake?

In conclusion, I would say that it is hard to bite your tongue when someone insults the person you love the most. It is not something that produces the most rational response, but rather an understandably emotional one. Some religions may have adherents who respond violently to perceived mocking as we have seen this week in France, others may protest and some will just complain. Irreligionists are no different. Reading through the comments on the original blog post demonstrates how difficult it is to practice diplomacy at such times, and yet how important it is for us to learn how to do so.

It is for the common good that we treat each other with common courtesy. I would think that should be the starting point, not the finish line.