Welcome Brandon Rhodes!

Recently, Mike Cline stepped down as co-editor here at JM out of a desire to balance work, school, and home life. Thankfully, he’ll still grace us with articles from time to time.

Today we’re anouncing Mike’s replacement: Brandon Rhodes. Welcome to the team, Brandon!

Here’s the background on Brandon:

Brandon Rhodes is a lifelong Oregonian who worships and serves in the Old Growth Community, a new-monastic Mennonite church plant in Portland’s eclectic Brentwood-Darlington neighborhood and presently in its first year together.

In his adolescence he was a part-time Christian and full-time fundamentalist crank.  But when Brandon lived in a kingdom-centered intentional community while studying Environmental Studies and Political Science at the University of Oregon, he found himself steadily transformed by the gospel.  God redeemed him from sneering individualism and into playful community, from shrill nationalism into the Kingdom of the Triumphant Lamb.  His is a journey of being regularly startled by God’s love and beauty.

Since college, Brandon has continued to live in Christian community, graduated seminary, and worked as a writer and activist for several creation-care and global justice nonprofits.  He enjoys vegetable gardening, reading compulsively, brewing beer, Mexican food, Romans 8, and trees.

Brian McLaren: A New Kind of Ancient

After reading page 187 of Brian McLaren’s new book, the Jesus Manifesto community is even more blessed to have Brian sit down and accept my request for an interview. It is on that page that he reveals one area of his life where spiritual practices have helped him manage his anxiety and discomfort–answering emails day in and day out. Perhaps my email was a spiritual trial of sorts, meant for Mr. McLaren to be made complete and “lacking in nothing”. At any rate, I hope my email gave Brian the chance to practice some of that “everyday sacredness” that he plugs in Finding Our Way Again. For Brian’s complete bio, check out his website.

So what’s an author whose written about a “new kind of Christian” and who supposedly carries a banner for emerging forms of Christianity doing writing an introduction to a series on ancient ideas?

Yeah, I guess it’s kind of ironic. But then again … one of the characteristics of modernity is the claim that we – we modern, Western, Protestant, Evangelical-fundamentalist-charismatic, and otherwise modified Christians – finally have it right, unlike the backward unenlightened generations that preceded us. One of the postmodern critiques of modernity is that we moderns threw out some babies with the bathwater and that we banished one too many ghosts in our eradication of premodern superstition, namely, the Holy Ghost. So, for Protestants to say we need to learn from Catholics, or for Western Christians to say we need to learn from the East, or for post-Enlightenment folks to say we need to learn from pre-Enlightenment folks … that’s all very much in keeping with the kinds of things I and my friends have been writing about in recent years. Read more

How a Radical Jihadist Led Me to Jesus (part 2 of 3)

Unfortunately for me, there was little time for second-guessing. Within a few short weeks, Stephen came to my home to interview me and ask me just about every question under the sun regarding my faith, family, and political views. The last thing I wanted to do was to isolate myself unnecessarily from those outside the conservative evangelical fold, so I tried to be as diplomatic as possible when asked questions about 9/11, the Iraq War, free-market capitalism, George Bush, and the Republican Party. Little did I know that the microscopic examination of my faith that weekend was only the tip of the iceberg. There was still much, much more to come.

Within a few short months, Stephen traveled with me to Pakistan to observe my preaching and to get a first-hand look at the oppression of Christians in a nation largely populated with radical Muslims. It was during the trip to Pakistan that Stephen began speaking to me about a very outspoken jihadist who lived in London named Khalid. I had seen Khalid on CNN and knew that he was an Irish convert to Islam who had grown up in a Catholic family. After the trip to Pakistan, I honestly thought my role in the film was over. In my mind, I had perhaps countered a few negative evangelical stereotypes and had a rare opportunity to expose the plight of the Pakistani Christians to the world.

Little did I know that a few months later, after delivering a sermon at a Pentecostal church in Brazil, a man would walk up to me and tell me that I was supposed to go to London before the end of the year and that, if I would go, then God would give me a great victory. Taking this as a word from God, I thought that maybe I could go and talk to Khalid, find out how he thinks and see if I could persuade him to accept the way and teachings of Christ. It wasn’t long before the producers caught wind of the story and decided to set up a meeting between the two of us for the purpose of capturing the conversation on film.

I don’t think words can describe the pressure I felt during the two days of what turned out to be an intense debate with Khalid. Not only did I have to make my case for Christ to Khalid (and all the other Bin-Laden followers who may watch the film), I also knew that I had to be a faithful representative of Christ to the average non-Christian watching the film, many of whom are already convinced in their minds that those who hold to a fundamental belief in Scripture are destined to drag the world into a premature Apocalypse. To top it off, I knew there were American soldiers in Iraq putting themselves in harm’s way and the last thing I wanted to do was to dishonor their service. The fact that the weather was unusually cold and gloomy, and that we were meeting in an old abandoned warehouse, made the atmosphere tense from the start. When Khalid walked into the room with his fiery eyes, intense gaze, and a grey t-shirt with the words “Soldier of Allah” written on the front, I knew the next few hours were not going to be a picnic.

Well…let’s just say the meeting didn’t quite go as I planned. It took all of about two minutes for me to realize there wasn’t going to be the Dr. Phil moment I had imagined with me helping Khalid to see that deep down inside there’s an inner child waiting to be loved. Within no time, Khalid began venting all of his anger, frustration, and rage against my religion, my country, Western Civilization—and me. In the beginning, I did my utmost to keep the conversation on a theological level. Having lived in a Muslim country and studied the basic tenets of Islam, I knew how to engage Muslims in friendly conversation regarding the merits of Christian belief. Most Muslims I had met up until this point were surprisingly generous about their view of the Bible and the fate of Christians on judgment day. Khalid, on the other hand, made no apology for his belief that every single Christian who has ever lived is heading straight for hell. The way Khalid raged about Iraq, Afghanistan, George Bush, and Tony Blair, I was sure that, in Khalid’s mind, the hottest flames in hell are reserved for those who put them in office.

The most frustrating part for me was the more I tried to shift the conversation to theological matters, the more determined Khalid was to condemn the evils of Western Civilization and, in particular, U.S. foreign policy. After sitting and listening for what seemed like hours, besides the occasional interjection here and there, I finally decided to engage Khalid on one of the primary moral objections to political Islam, and that’s the issue of religious freedom. Ready for a good debate, I finally stopped Khalid in mid-sentence and blurted out, “Freedom of religion in Islam is a façade. There is no such thing as freedom of religion in Islam.”

Expecting to hear a rebuttal, I was genuinely taken aback when Khalid so nonchalantly replied, “No there’s not. We don’t believe in freedom and democracy. We believe democracy is just a manifestation of man-made law.”

“Freedom and democracy equals man-made law?” I thought to myself, “now that’s an idea I haven’t heard recently.” As an American Christian culturally conditioned to think of the words “freedom” and “democracy” as inalienable rights endowed by our Creator, the idea that another human being could consciously reject these values was intriguing to me. The association of democracy with man-made law also had a ring of logic to it. After all, we all know that the U.S. Congress and the British Parliament don’t wait for a heavenly finger to write on tablets of stone before passing legislation.

Still trying to keep the conversation on a theological level and with little time to think, I responded, “You see that’s the difference, because the Bible says in the New Testament, “The letter kills, but the Spirit gives life” (2 Corinthians 3:6).

Wasting no time, Khalid replied “Yes, but what does that mean? Nobody knows what that means. Not very clear.”

“Not very clear?” I thought to myself, “what’s not clear about living in freedom from legalistic rules and regulations?” The Apostle Paul’s meaning when he wrote these words is obvious. Outward conformity to a written code is no substitute for a relationship with God. Slavish obedience to a written code leads to hypocrisy and inflexibility when divorced from a heart-felt love for God and a genuine love for people. It’s obvious to me. Why isn’t this obvious to Khalid? I thought perhaps I needed to state it another way.

“If society is going to change, then hearts have to change,” I said.

Khalid wasn’t buying it.

“You still haven’t described how you would implement the Bible as a way of life or in government. I’ll be honest with you. I’m gonna pin you down. I don’t think you can. I don’t think you can, because you can’t. With the Bible, how would you address the pedophilia, the prostitution, the homosexuality from a governmental point of view? How would you address that? You’re in charge tomorrow all right? You are the president of the United States, how would you address these problems?”

How would I implement the Bible from a governmental point of view? Now that was a good question. In my mind, I could hear the calm reassuring voice of my senior pastor saying something like, “Now, Aaron. Remember that Christianity isn’t about trying to regulate society by setting up earthly governments. It’s about forgiveness of sins and a right relationship with God.”

“That’s right pastor,” I thought to myself “but that doesn’t really answer his question. If I’m going to make the claim that my faith is the right one, certainly I need to show that if everyone, or at least the vast majority of people, embraced my faith, then society would be better off. After all, there are moral implications to living out the gospel, and these implications aren’t limited to the private sphere.”

In my heart I knew that Khalid’s question was far from insignificant. Even though I knew the standard answer that Jesus came to earth to die on the cross for our sins and rise again on the third day. Even though I knew what every self-professed born again evangelical Christian knows, that the gospel is about God’s love for sinners, not about sinners striving to achieve moral perfection. Even though I knew that the theme of the Bible is grace and redemption, not condemnation and legalism, there was something in Khalid’s question that caused my heart to sink. I knew that Khalid’s challenge wasn’t something I could dismiss lightly.

Image Attribution

Author Bio:: Aaron D. Taylor is an author, speaker, a missionary/evangelist, and the founder of Great Commission Society. Aaron is currently writing a book about his conversion to pacifism. Aaron is moving with his wife to the West Bank next year to serve the Palestinian Christian community. To book Aaron D. Taylor to speak at your church or event, please contact him at 636-208-6828 or fromdeathtolife@gmail.com

Ordinary Radicals Trailer

This looks like it will be good…check it out:

Manifesto (Luke 4:18-19)

Manifesto (Luke 4:18-19)

Drawing in the hot breath of God,
My shaking lungs sting
Struggling to contain the power of the Almighty.
So I exhale the God-breath,
Upon those awaiting salvation.
Prophesying powerful portents of liberation.
Awakening the imaginations of the dispossessed and downtrodden.

This is my manifesto:

“This is your day, pauper.
Your empty stomachs will be filled with justice
Your lonely pockets will burst with peace.
The Heavenly Banker stocks your account
With cash from the money changers.
No more hanging your head low.
No more thrift store spirituality.
You are the princes of the Kingdom.

Freedom is yours, prisoner.
Your cell bars will turn to noodles.
You’ll exchange the dank dark for golden sunsets.
The New Warden has signed your parole papers
And put the old wardens behind bars.
No more scratching the days into brick walls.
No more false religion shutting out the stars.
Now you sleep under the rising red moon.

Open your eyes, blind-man.
The darkness will be choked by light.
Confusion broken by the sound of a trumpet.
The Holy Physician shows you a new world
While the watchmen are lost in the fog.
No more scratching your eyes in despair.
No more stumbling in perpetual night.
You will bear witness to the edges of the world.

Step out of the shadows, oppressed.
The Principalities will lose their thrones.
The Powers will fall to earth.
The Spirit of God has ended the occupation
While the imperial fleet burns to ash and drifts away.
No more plotting feeble rebellion.
No more struggling against steel and flesh.
For you are free citizens of a peculiar nation.

The old fire have been suffocated
While holy coals smolder,
Purifying the hearts of the people.
I announce the jubilee
Upon those shivering in fear.
Shouting a sermon of shalom
As dawn of the first day breaks upon those he loves.

Embracing Downward Mobility

Last weekend I took the plunge.

After a long-needed heart-to-heart talk with my wife, about how we felt about the routines we had built, about the habits we had, about our priorities, the realization came that something was out of whack. This wasn’t a tremendous surprise, although some of my wife’s thoughts on the subject had been, but the slow understanding that there was a degree to which I was neglecting my family, and omitting untold good that was getting squeezed out of my life in my love of…well, materialism.

Let me expound.

Never having been one who has jumped on every technological bandwagon, I tended to wait trends out until I could pick out something reasonable that fit my needs. I’ve built my own computers from purchased parts, and built my operating systems using Linux as a backbone. My voluminous audio, comic and movie collections are digitized, and my news, writing, tv, phone, and half a dozen other things are consolidated in that black box.

On top of that black box is a smaller black box; a redundant array of disk drives, storing three terabytes of data. I’m running out of space on it. My audio collection is all lossless; as a former sound technician my ear is finicky, and the flexibility that the FLAC audio codec offers is unparalleled. I have tendrils deep in certain parts of the music industry, and am a strong proponent of indie labels such as Lujo Records and audiophile hangouts such as Waffles.fm.

My media consumption runs a fine line between enthusiasm and addiction. My time (as if “my time” is even truly mine) on the computer is often times put to better use in other ways. My education is continuing, my job is great, but I don’t have any enthusiasm for the life both are recommending.

I’m selling my computer and we’ll pay off my permanent residency and some outlying debt. I’m wrenched about what to do with my digital audio collection: at about two terabytes of lossless audio files, some extremely rare, it’s a waste to simply get rid of, and there are some I think I should keep, but the lot is not worth the time, concern, and expense. The hardware it’s on needs to go, at any rate. The Wii can probably go, although we’ll keep the TV for it’s DVD playback capabilities. Perhaps eventually we’ll rid ourselves of that as well, and simply use the remaining computer (my wife’s iMac).

I’m scared. The amount of time in my day that will be salvaged is substantial. The amount of things that are truly important: time with my wife, time with my daughter, time talking to friends, helping neighbors and my community…and money saved, debt paid, foreign aid, supporting friends in need, giving whenever asked….there is a lot that is possible if we only take the step.

But I’m so steeped in materialism that I honestly don’t clearly know where to go from here. When time is opened up for the possibility of a new way of living we shy away, the vast expanse of possibilities a dark and frightening forest rather than an open field, and we cling to the nearby fence for fear of freedom.

Deep breathes. I may not as easily escape this gravity well as I would like to think. Your prayers and ideas are coveted.

Peace.

Author Bio:: Jordan Peacock lives and works in Minnesota with his beautiful wife and daughter. When not playing with technology or music, he’s writing comic books and wrapping up a university education.

Gyrovagues, Church-Shoppers, and Ecclesial Free Agents

From the Rule of St. Benedict:

But the fourth class of monks is that called Gyrovagues, who keep going their whole life long from one province to another, staying three or four days at a time in different cells as guests. Always roving and never settled, they indulge their passions and the cravings of their appetite, and are in every way worse than the Sarabaites. It is better to pass all these over in silence than to speak of their most wretched life.

St. Benedict despised the Gyrovagues–wandering monks who never settled into a monastery. These monastery-shopping free-agents were a monastery unto themselves. They never submitted to the abbots, never settled into a rhythm of life. Instead, they wandered from monastery to monastery, enjoying the hospitality, eschewing work, and living the carefree life they had determined for themselves.

These moocher monks were sponges who, casting off vows of stability (staying in one place) and obedience (obeying the Abbot), were a law unto themselves. Read more

Calling all web designers…

I’ve reached the limit of my skills. Sure, if I were to try really hard and spend a lot of time on it, I could probably come up with a better design for Jesus Manifesto. But some of you are SO much better at web design than I am. So I’m asking for your help.

Why a redesign? I think we could do better. I feel like the site feels cluttered and clunky. And it is a bit of a resource hog. Plus, I’m really interested in incorporating some new features, but don’t know how to do it.

Are there any web designers out there willing to help redesign Jesus Manifesto? We can’t really pay you much of anything…but here are the potential perks:

1. JM has a modestly large reader base…which means that your design skills would be on full display.
2. You would feel the warm glow of knowing you helped promote a worthwhile webzine.
3. You would have my abiding respect.

Now, if these aren’t enough of a motivator, I’d be willing to work out some sort of payment…but it would probably have to be a combination of installment payments and some sort of barter.

How a Radical Jihadist Led Me to Jesus (part 1 of 3)

“What have I gotten myself into this time?” were the words flashing through my mind as I sat across the table from Stephen Marshall, the director of a feature length documentary film (currently in post-production) examining the role of religion in the post 9/11 clash between the West and Islam. Stephen and I were sitting in an underground café in London discussing what I was about to do the next day. In less than 24 hours, I was about to be stuck in a cold abandoned warehouse for hours upon hours with a radical jihadist who wanted to destroy me, my country, my religion, and everything else I held dear.

As a 28 year- old evangelist born and raised in Jefferson County Missouri, a rural county outside the suburbs of St. Louis, the idea of representing Western Civilization in an epic debate seemed a bit far-fetched. I imagined what the cultural elite in Europe would think if they knew a Christian missionary from the Bible Belt was their de facto representative for defending their civilization over and against Islamic civilization. The thought suddenly struck me as humorous. How in the world did I get here?

It all started when I was a young child attending a missionary conference at my charismatic mega-church. As long as I can remember, I’ve always had a knack for adventure and a zeal for the things of God. When I was between the ages of 8 and 10, my church invited missionaries from all over the world to display exhibits and share about their ministries at an event they called the World Harvest Conference. Seeing the missionaries dressed in exotic costumes and hearing their stories made me want to “abandon it all for the sake of the call” just as they had done. For a young child who rarely traveled, the prospect of spending my life in a far away place and learning another language captured my imagination and gave me a vision for the future. By the time my uncle Charlie took his first trip to Africa, I was hooked. I knew I wanted to be a missionary too.

My first missionary trip was in 1993 to the country of Poland. A missionary from our church named Jack Harris was scheduled to conduct an evangelistic crusade in the town of Wroclaw, so he decided to take a group of young people from the church with him so they could experience a taste of the mission field too. While in Poland, I read a book by an evangelist named Mike Francen called “A Quest for Souls.” Mike was personally trained under the legendary T.L. Osborn and saw many of the same miracles that T.L. and his wife Daisy had seen throughout their 50-years of ministry together. For a 15 year old raised in the charismatic movement, looking at pictures of 100,000 people lifting their hands to receive Jesus as Savior was like an aspiring adolescent baseball player looking at a picture of Babe Ruth knocking the ball out of Yankee Stadium. For me, the choice was very simple. How could I stay in America and preach the gospel to those who have already heard when there are millions of people around the world who have never had a chance to hear the gospel once? From that day forward, I decided to dedicate my life to becoming a world evangelist.

As soon as I graduated from high school, I was out the door and ready to change the world. During my formative years, my parents made tremendous financial sacrifices to put my brothers and me through Christian school, so we never really traveled much. But now that I had the freedom to determine my future, I found myself traveling to places far and wide—places I never in my wildest imagination dreamed I would ever go. Places such as India, China, Tibet, Vietnam, Cambodia, Uganda, Grenada, and Laos. Some of these countries were places where those who decided to follow Jesus often paid a terrible price of suffering and persecution and, yet, the joy on their faces reinforced to me that following Jesus is worth the cost, no matter what the cost may be.

Although I could have continued my travels solo, God had other plans. I met my wife Rhiannon in Dallas, Texas while I was a student at Christ for the Nations Institute and we married on October 6th, 2001, approximately three weeks after 9/11. Shortly after our wedding, we decided that we wanted to put our School of Missions training to use by taking the gospel to those of the Muslim faith. We wanted to minister in a country that has a Muslim majority, but also enjoys religious freedom; so after a year and a half of quiet and peaceful suburban living, we packed our bags and moved to the country of Senegal, a country located in the westernmost region of Africa.

For a year and a half in Senegal we labored, we cried, we prayed, and met a lot of fascinating people. Some were fellow missionaries laboring in a very difficult field. Others were Muslim converts to Christianity, many of whom had dreams and visions of Jesus and personal testimonies of miraculous healings. Most of our family and friends thought that we were crazy evangelizing Muslims, especially since this was shortly after 9/11, but the fact is our interaction with Muslims was entirely peaceful. Not once did we come across someone who hated us and wanted us out of the country. Although we only lived in Senegal for a year and a half, my wife and I were able to travel to three other West African nations (including a trip to Mauritania where we battled a plague of locusts), conduct a nation-wide pastors’ conference, and lead a young man to the Lord who is now is a full time church planter in the southern region of the country.

As much as we loved Senegal, all good things must come to an end. Due to a tragic illness in the family and a growing vision for a world-wide ministry, my wife and I decided to move back to the U.S, but it wasn’t long till I was off traveling the world again. This time I found myself traveling to Pakistan, a place I soon discovered was largely overrun by radical jihadists sympathetic to the likes of people like Osama bin Laden. I didn’t want to be a prime target for kidnapping or execution, so I decided to concentrate my ministry primarily on the Christian minority, encouraging them in their faith and equipping them with Bibles and other tools for witness and evangelism.

It was shortly after my first trip to Pakistan that I met Stephen Marshall. One day as I was checking my e-mail, I noticed an ad I had previously overlooked in a mass e-mail for missionary mobilizers. The headline read, “Hollywood production company looking for a young missionary who travels the world to participate in a feature-length documentary.” A few days before I saw the e-mail, I already felt I had a direction from the Lord to begin engaging secular media with the gospel. I didn’t think anyone would respond, so when Stephen called me a few days later, I was pleasantly surprised—and overwhelmed. I knew that representing a Christian perspective to the secular media is a tall order, especially when you don’t have any control over the editing process. Almost immediately after I got off the phone with Stephen I wondered if I’d bitten off more than I can chew.

Author Bio:: Aaron D. Taylor is an author, speaker, a missionary/evangelist, and the founder of Great Commission Society. Aaron is currently writing a book about his conversion to pacifism. Aaron is moving with his wife to the West Bank next year to serve the Palestinian Christian community. To book Aaron D. Taylor to speak at your church or event, please contact him at 636-208-6828 or fromdeathtolife@gmail.com

Who Is My Enemy?

“Love your enemies” is the logical (if extreme) extension of “love your neighbor.” When asked, “Who is my neighbor?”, Jesus tells a story in which a Samaritan — not necessarily an enemy but certainly not your average Jew’s first choice for a cribbage partner — is the protagonist and moral exemplar of neighborly love.

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