Conversation with Conservative Pastor Joel Hunter, Spiritual Advisor to President Obama

I have interviewed many people over the years, but I don’t think any of those conversations has ever been as timely and important as this one with Pastor Joel Hunter, a theologically conservative Christian who for eight years was a spiritual advisor to the theologically liberal President Barack Obama. Now retired from full time pastoring, the former senior pastor of “Northland, A Church Distributed,” in Central Florida, stays as busy as ever building bridges and coalitions to help people who are in vulnerable communities.

His website, appropriately titled “Imitating Jesus beyond Church Walls,” where he also blogs, bursts with hard-won biblical insight and understanding that he’s learned both as a pastor for nearly five decades and through serving in challenging public contexts, regionally, nationally, and internationally. These are too numerous to detail here, so you really must check out Joel’s website for yourself sometime, especially if you’re meeting him for the first time here.

For some time now, we have been living in a fast-paced and significantly changing world in which inescapable demands have been placed upon us to gain a godly wisdom for such a time as this, and to live by it everyday. The last decade or so has been particularly demanding, socially, economically, and politically. Even our best efforts at public witness in America have often revealed how divided the church had become. The only consensus today seems to be that society at-large says that it is turned off by what public Christian influence there is. Both church and society have come out losers here. And then along comes Covid–19.

In Joel Hunter’s public life and ministry, we find not only a clear understanding but a biblical working out of the demands of Christ’s discipleship on us at a time such as this. He is a respected and important voice in Christian leadership. Of his long and varied callings, we could have talked for hours about a great many things. Instead, we took a hour by phone for a fascinating and insightful conversation about what he learned during eight years as President Obama’s lone conservative spiritual advisor. We then moved from those personal experiences to President Trump’s spiritual advisors. We also talked about Covid–19, as well as about the kind of pastoring that brings healing into congregations that are divided politically, and the importance of crossing boundaries to build relationships. Some of his answers may surprise.

Charles Strohmer: Let’s jump right in, Joel. We first met at a Christian conference in DC when Barack Obama was the President, and you got my attention when you spoke about being a conservative Christian pastor who was also a spiritual advisor to President Obama. What did that responsibility entail during those eight years?

Joel Hunter: Several things. I wrote devotions for him every week out of the Scripture. We prayed together periodically. Really it was a mutually encouraging relationship. I went through some tough times and he called me to make sure I was doing okay. And right after he was out of office, I was making a transition from being a congregational pastor (after almost fifty years) to being a faith community organizer in Florida, and he called me before my last sermon as a congregational pastor and asked, “What are you doing, Joel?” And I said, “I have no idea. I’m going to be a community organizer. What am I doing?” Because that’s what he was before he went into politics. So we’ve had a mutually encouraging relationship, and I have been quite honored to call him a friend.

Charles: When you sent devotionals or prayed with him in person, what kind of approach did you take? Was it personal, or about family matters, or political areas?

Joel: It was all personal. It really wasn’t a political relationship. He did call me a few times before making big announcements. For example, he had just come out for gay marriage, so he called me before that got into the news cycle because he knew that with my conservative Evangelical background I’d be beaten up over our relationship, which I usually was. But almost always our relationship was about personal issues. So when I would pray for him I’d say, “What do we pray about?” By the way, when I would ask him that, he would never ask me to pray for him. He was always asking me to pray for somebody else. He’d said, “I got this letter this week …,” or, “There’s this family that …” It was always about somebody else.

He was also that way in conversation. You could not maintain a conversation about him. He was always more interested in talking about somebody else. That came out of a genuine sense of compassion and humility and the understanding that I’m here to offer others some good. So let’s go to the Lord about that.

Charles: How were you as a theological conservative able to square being a spiritual advisor to a theologically liberal President? It must have been a struggle.

Joel: Yes, we came down on various sides of issues. But when you love and appreciate somebody, you give them the space they need and you trust God to take care of all that. I’ve never needed someone to agree with me in order to love them fully. I would have a very narrow band of relationships if I demanded theological agreement before I loved people. And that’s the way Jesus was. Jesus crossed all kinds of boundaries in order to love people who were not like him. So it sounds difficult, but it was really very easy. When you see somebody as a person who you know is trying to do others good, and you know that even if you disagree on the interpretation of Scripture, that both of you have a keen appreciation for Scripture, then the rest, well, you’ve just kind of got to let go.

Charles: How did you get that gig?

Joel: Early in 2008, I was featured in a New York Times article on racism. A few weeks later, Joshua Dubois, Senator Obama’s religious outreach person, called me and said that Senator Obama would like to have a conversation with me. So I said, “Great,” and about a week later Senator Obama and I talked for about thirty minutes on the phone. His basic question was, “How can the government and faith communities work together without violating the commission of each?” And I said, “Senator, probably the most unused resource for community healing and well being in this country are faith communities. We have the highest percentage of volunteers and we just want to make things white dovebetter.”

I was then asked to be on a couple panels that asked the presidential candidates, during the campaign, questions, in forums. So I had opportunities to ask questions to people like Hillary Clinton. After I had asked her a question during the second forum, I felt someone behind me tugging on my coat and saying, “Hey, would you come back and pray with Senator Obama before he speaks?” I said, “Sure,” and so I followed this guy down through the catacombs of the building, thinking I’m going to be one of fifty pastors surrounding him. But when I got there it was just me and him in the hallway. And that week the press had just beat him up something terrible. So I said something like, “Senator, you’ve had a rough week.” And he looked at me and said, which was typical of him, “No. The single mom trying to put food on the table had a rough week. I’m fine.” So I prayed with him before he went on, and after that we had a deep relationship.”

Charles: Did he have other kinds of spiritual advisors in his circle?

Joel: There’s an article in the March 15, 2009 New York Times that talks about five of us. I was the only white Evangelical pastor. But there were others in his circle of prayerful encouragement. A couple of times T. D. Jakes and I were with him together in the Oval Office. And sometimes, like on his birthday or special occasions, he would get on the phone with several of us, including people like Joseph Lowery and other great old African-American preachers.

Charles: Was it beneficial for him to have a circle of spiritual advisors who were different theologically?

Joel: Absolutely. He thrives on various perspectives. He’s incredibly smart. I can’t tell you the level of his intellect. So it’s easy for him to take in various perspectives and come up with his amalgamation of what’s just been said and go with that.

Charles: Since Donald Trump’s election, there’s been an avalanche of stories in the media and the press about his conservative and charismatic spiritual advisors. Do you know if he has other kinds of religious advisors in his Presidential circle?

Joel: No. I know many in that group. They are all of the same theological perspective. This President really puts a premium on loyalty and on agreement, so that’s his circle.

Charles: President Trump has quite a different method than, say, President Lincoln. I mean, in her excellent book Team of Rivals, Doris Kearns Goodwin writes extensively about how Lincoln surrounded himself with advisors, including on his cabinet, who were different from him, including even some political enemies. But that method really paid dividends when it came to gaining the kind of wisdom needed back then to keep the union together, even through a civil war.

Joel: Yes. And that’s how President Obama was first elected. He had that team of rivals, a broad field of political friends and advisors. But the machinery of government always takes over. As the time went on, especially in his second term, it did become more consolidated into fewer voices and political agendas in order to get things done.

My mama used to tell me that I would never learn very much from people who think exactly like I do. You learn from people who have a different perspective or a different truth. So I acquaint differences with flourishing, or being enriched.

Charles: How did you process, internally, deal with, struggles you had, being a conservative Christian pastor, with some political decisions President Obama made that you clearly opposed?

Joel: Well, one time I was out driving with my wife, Becky, and I get this call, “The President would like to speak with you.” So I pulled off into a parking lot because I didn’t want to be talking to the President while I’m driving along. So he comes on the phone and says, “Joel, I just want to tell you about a decision I’ve just made. I’ve just had an interview (I think he said it was with ABC) to say that I’ve come out for gay marriage.” And my first response was, “Mr. President, I don’t see that in Scripture.” And his response was, “I know you don’t. But listen to how I arrived at that.” Then he talked about the difference between civil law, which is for all of the citizens, and moral or religious law, which is for the adherence of believers in that particular realm.

As I understood President Obama, you stick this guy and compassion comes out. If somebody’s being left out, it’s almost more than he can take. He made his decision on the basis of what he conceived as fairness, and compassion, and people being hurt unnecessarily as it translated into a law for all citizens. I understood that. When I was interviewed afterward and asked about it, I said, No, that’s not my definition of marriage. When I spoke about it to my congregation, I said you’ve got to be discerning between what’s fair for everybody and what’s right for those us who interpret Scripture in a certain way and our lives that way.

Charles: Over the years, I noticed that there’s a lack of understanding in some Christian circles about the difference between the purpose and function of civil law in American polity and that of moral or religious law. For one thing, I’m convinced that if you try to force a moral law on a people who don’t see the point of obeying it, you’re going to foster rebellion.

Joel: That’s right. Our natural human bent is to try to gain as much power for our POV as we can. Many Christians use politics for that. But there’s not a full trust of God in that process. We need to note this when we’re making decisions, as to why we are making decisions. Are we making them to keep in control and impose our views, or are we making them because we just want to do what we believe is right and then let the circumstances take care of themselves.

Charles: So President Obama didn’t track with your view on gay marriage, but do you know if over those eight years your prayers or wisdom for him influenced him policy-wise or personally or with his family?

President Barack Obama greets Dr. Joel C. Hunter, senior pastor of Northland, A Church Distributed, in Longwood, Fla., during the Easter Prayer Breakfast, Monday, April 14, 2014, in the East Room of the White House in Washington. (AP Photo/Carolyn Kaster)

Joel: I think I know several ways that he took my perspective into consideration when he was making decisions. But I’m really not at liberty to talk about that. I can say that he invited my family to the Oval Office and told them that I had a profound impact I’d had on his life and presidency. He was very kind to say that.

Charles: If you got a call from President Trump’s Chief of Staff to ask you if you’d be his spiritual advisor, would you jump at the chance or would you beg off?

Joel: It’s the President, you know. Scripture tells us to pray for those in authority. I don’t think I’d last very long! But I would do everything I could to give my interpretation of Scripture as to what the subject was and be as supportive as I could while I was doing it.

Charles: Some years ago I participated in conference call with a number of religious and political leaders. We were talking about “learning wisdom from the other.” Which is a biblical idea. Tim Keller was part of that conference call, and when I asked him for his thoughts on this, he immediately located that kind of learning in the Bible’s teaching on common grace. I want to quote for you part of what he said and get your thoughts on it. All human beings, he said, “whether they believe in God or not, share gifts of wisdom, insight, creativity, and beauty because these gifts come to everyone. Christians call this common grace, because they consider these as gifts that come from God. If that’s the case,” he concluded, “then I could expect that my neighbor who does not believe anything like I believe might still have wisdom from God that I have to listen to.” You seem to me to have that kind of heart.

Joel: It’s how I’m wired. My mama used to tell me that I would never learn very much from people who think exactly like I do. You learn from people who have a different perspective or a different truth. So I acquaint differences with flourishing, or being enriched. I’m sure Tim, he’s a friend, must have had this in mind, that our full worship of God depends upon our full pursuit of truth wherever it is. “All truth is God’s truth,” as the saying goes. And as Kepler said, “I think God’s thoughts after him.” It’s so important for us, no matter where truth is coming from, whether from the realm of science, or philosophy, or even from other religions that have a sense of how God has created the world. I’m thirsty for it all. And I bring it all to Christ, because, as it says in Colossians, Jesus is before all things, and in Christ all things hold together. So I am always trying to learn all I can because I believe it will bring me closer to Christ.

Charles: Do you find people have sticking points when it comes to crossing boundaries to build relationships?

Joel: Yes. Our biggest enemy is inertia. We want to do what we’ve always done, and change costs. And that cost we can see. What we can’t see is the cost of not changing. And that’s a tsunami. It’s trying to say, Hey it’s worth changing to be more like Jesus. It’ll be more inconvenient and more uncomfortable, but boy will life be better.

People are driven toward ideology instead of to the harder work of relationship. Ideology has its appeal because it’s so simplistic, and it makes you feel self-righteous, and it gives you a sense of belonging that’s automatic but not real.

Charles: What can we do to break out of listening only to our own peer groups so that we can cross boundaries, be less self-focusing and more relationally open to people who aren’t like us?

Joel: What won’t work is argument and shaming. That works for maybe about a day. I had a professor who used to talk about how difficult change is. “It’s like pushing mush with a stick,” he would say. “The little part you’re pushing moves but the rest of it just stays the same.” But what does work is the general appeal, especially to believers, of what is right and what they could do that they could do fairly easily.

For example, years ago Becky and I created an initiative called Simple Help. You do one thing a day that takes less than five minutes and costs less than five dollars. There are thousands of us that are doing it, and incrementally the world gets better. When you do this it builds in you a mentality that says: I am making a difference. Most people think: I can’t make a difference. But if you don’t think “solve the world’s problems,” but you do think “I can open a door for someone,” or, “I can share with someone how I got through what they are going through, “ those little things make a huge difference. You just have to make the help concrete and accessible enough that people can act on it, and not feel like they’ve got to solve everybody’s problems all at once.

Charles: One ever-present stumbling block to learning wisdom this way can be social media, where a Manichean worldview is increasingly present, in which the world is said to be divided into two enemy camps that are eternally at war with each other. Christians are falling prey to this, too. It’s tragic. It’s further dividing the body of Christ. Using some of the principles you’re learned and applied over the years, how can we start to change that dynamic on social media, or is it hopeless?

Joel: Well, one thing is that I don’t do social media very much. I don’t have a Facebook account and don’t spent spend much time online trying to discuss issues. I’m on Twitter and Instagram, but mostly just to keep up with my friends. But what you’re pointing to is not just characteristic of social media. The whole country right now is becoming more and more polarized and politicized. There seems to be a choice, almost an ultimatum, that you’re either going to be a bridge builder or a wall builder.

You can have an approach that is Christ against the world, very adversarial, battle of light and darkness, which is not Christianity. So some Christians see this as a pitch battle between good and evil and we’re on the good side and everyone who doesn’t agree with us is on the bad side. To me, that is not at all resembling the life of Jesus.

Jesus had this philosophy and approach to life that all the world was God’s, and that even those who didn’t know him, those deemed unacceptable, need to be served and respected and reached out to with the love of God. It’s not about what’s in them. It’s about what’s in us. So I can’t help but hope that the voices that continue to make friends instead of create enemies will in the end gain more ground. But it is going to be a difficult slog with our present adversarial approach. .

Charles: All across America you can find all kinds of congregations filled with all kinds of people. They are ultimately united in Christ through the fellowship of the Spirit, but they still may have different if not conflicting social, economic, or political views within the same congregation, especially during the Trump Presidency, the difficult CV-19 period, and increased racial tensions and activism. You’re a pastor. How can pastors and ministers who are shepherding politically diverse congregations speak to these issues in their sermons, Sunday schools, Zoom groups?

Joel: First of all, put everything is a scriptural context, not a political or cultural one, because pastors need to be representatives of the healing and enlightening truths of Scripture. So whatever we’re talking about, we need to find the place in Scripture where this is a principle. It’s also very important that God made us for relationships. He himself is a relationship. When the Bible says that God created male and female, he created “them” in his own image [Genesis 1:27]. The word there for God is “Elohim,” which is a plural word used in a singular sense. In other words, God is a relationship. So if we’re made in the image of God we’re made for relationships.

How this applies to Covid-19 and also to the political divide in our congregations is that you won’t get very far in maturing your congregation by arguing issues or by trying to come down from the mountain with the answer. You will only get as far as you will build actual relationships with those in the congregation and empower or equip them to build relationships with those outside the congregation. Now, that doesn’t depend on a bunch of people assembling in a building. What it depends on is loving your neighbor as you love yourself.

So the answer is right there, dead center in Scripture, but we’ve become so accustomed to the paradigm of western Christendom; that is, we all gather inside a building, we listen for a while, and then we go back to our regular lives. That’s a very shallow version of Christianity. And that’s going to get wracked by both pandemic results and by the coming culture of a younger generation that has no appetite for institutional religion. So we’d better figure out how to build meaningful relationships that makes the world better. That’s what the first century church was. It was built on relationship, and the world came to Christ because those relationships were making the world better.

Charles: I’m thinking of Jesus’ heartfelt felt prayer for his followers in John 17, just hours before his death. Today we Christians seem so far away from anything even close to that kind of unity in diversity that Jesus wants of us through the fellowship of the Spirit. Instead, we seem increasingly divided by our rigidly held, conflicting ideological positions. That won’t hold the church together.

Joel: No, it won’t. People are driven toward ideology instead of to the harder work of relationship. Ideology has its appeal because it’s so simplistic, and it makes you feel self-righteous, and it gives you a sense of belonging that’s automatic but not real. The harder work of relationship is full of frustrations and ambivalence and “I don’t know if I’m doing any good here or not.” But it’s the only real work there is. Ideology is not a real-world comfort or strength. It’s just siding up with an idea, and getting mad that everyone isn’t going along with you.

Charles: To focus specifically on the rising division over race in our country, what are some creative strategies for helping white pastoral leadership who are resistant to, or even hostile to, discussions about racism in the current divisive crisis? Often the critical source for their hostilities comes from political perspectives.

Joel: One of the keys that Jesus talked about was that before you see the problem with your brother, notice the problem in yourself; before you would take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye, look at the log in your own. Self-examination is key to spiritual maturity. If white pastors will educate themselves, be brave enough to note the structures of privilege that they have because they’re white – the almost invisible systems of racism in which they were raised, designed for white people to keep power.

Part of the resistance is that automatically when we talk about racism people get defensive because they feel like they’re being accused of something that they didn’t intend. But this is not about accusation. It’s about education and self-evaluation. I think of the Psalm that says “create in me a clean heart, O God,” and the Scripture that says if a person says he has no sin, the truth is not in him. All of these call for the question that the disciples asked Jesus the night before he died: Is it me, Lord? Am I the one?

If we can encourage one another to ask that question, if we can say to ourselves and to each other that all of us have some complicity in the present problem – all of us have ways in which we could improve and walk closer to Christ – then we could say: Well, I guess they’re not trying to blame me. I guess they’re just trying to say that there’s something I need to discover that will make the situation better. I think that’s how to approach it.

Charles: Tell us a little about what you’ve been doing, publicly, since retiring a few years ago from pastoring full time. I know you like to regularly convene all sorts of people for regional conversations, with your Community Resource Network.helping hand

Joel: I went into the pastorate out of the civil rights movement, so I have always had in my heart a special place for people who were being left out. It’s important to me to spend my remaining days, and I hope they are many, to circle back a place where I can build bridges and coalitions to help people who are in vulnerable communities. So I’ve been trying to do less nationally and internationally and do more in my own region in central Florida. So I was chairman of the Central Florida Commission on Homelessness, and right now I’m doing racial reconciliation with a lot of groups in our area. The more you can do in your own region, where you have the most influence, the more sustainable it’s going to be. So I’m working with a lot of people who have been left out and seeking biblical justice that is restorative and relationally reconciliatory. We have this ministry of reconciliation.

Charles: We’ve been talking about a pretty challenging kind of discipleship. It can be rough at times, learning from people who are not like us, building new relationships. But it’s a discipleship journey in which we get to know Jesus a little better all the time, understand more of his interests across the spectrum of life. So we need to see what Jesus is doing and partner with him for God’s glory and human flourishing. Your closing thoughts for us?

Joel: Well, the older you get and the more you know, the more you realize how much you don’t know. But my grandmother used to say, “Leave a place better than you found it.” And Jeremiah 29:7 talks about seeking the well being, the flourishing, of the city, because in its well being will be your well being. So I would just ask people to be involved in doing whatever good they can for whoever they can, especially those who have been left out. And their lives will be filled with more satisfaction and more peace than they have anticipated.

Charles: Thanks very much for taking time for this conversation, Joel. Much appreciated.

Joel: Glad to help. Thanks for what you’re doing.

©2020 by Charles Strohmer

Images of Joel Hunter courtesy of Community Resource Network. Dove and Children images courtesy of Creative Commons.

John Shortt Interviews Charles Strohmer

I was recently contacted by John Shortt, a gifted British educator who also works educationally in Europe and further afield. Would I be willing to be interviewed for his blog? I was. Originally published on John’s blog, it has now been included right here on my blog. The interview was wide-raging and thought-provoking — for me at least! And conversational (my preference) rather than formal. It is partly the story of how I came to faith and partly about my life since then as a writer and public Christian. Some of it may surprise even those who know me well. I hope some of it speaks to you. (The interview was conducted via Skype, but only the text, not the audio, is being published.)

John Shortt: Charles, you and Linda live in East Tennessee in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains. It sounds a great place to live but you were brought up way up north in Detroit, Michigan, weren’t you?

Charles Strohmer: Yes, we’re pleasantly ensconced here in the foothills of the Smokies but Detroit is about 550 miles north of us, a lot of real cold winter weather up there. It’s the Motor City, so it’s the big three auto makers plus the Motown sound, and a lot of rock ‘n roll came out of Detroit.

I was personally caught up in both of those worlds. I was a car mechanic for a long time and I got into the music scene deeply, not just into the Motown sound which I really like but mainly into rock ‘n’ roll, hard rock, heavy metal.

JS: In Odd Man Out, your great book about your life in the sixties and seventies, you say you began to search for “Truth with a capital T”. What set you off on that search when it seemed you had everything going for you?

CS: Now, that’s interesting! Yeah, I suppose it does seem like I had everything going for me. I was living the American Dream on the one hand and then, off of that, I was playing this counter-cultural hippy thing.

But inside of me a lot of things affected me in a very disturbing way. I was totally unhappy with how things were going in the American system. In the 1960s there was the assassination of President Kennedy, then a few years later the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., then, a couple of months later, the assassination of Bobby Kennedy when he was running for president. There was the Vietnam War et cetera and I was, for some reason, really affected by those injustices and evils.

I got this deep desire to know Truth with a capital T. That’s how I talked to myself about it. I said to myself that if I could find Truth with a capital T, no matter what it cost or where it led, then Truth would do two things. It would tell me what was wrong with the American system and perhaps even with life itself or the world and my own life. And number two, it would help me and others to solve some of the problems, correct some things that have gone wrong.

JS: And you got into astrology around that time. It was the time of the dawning of the Age of Aquarius or soon after it, wasn’t it? How did that come about?

CS: I thought astrology was a path to Truth. It came about innocently enough. A friend of mine and I were both into race cars, but we also used to meet at Dunkin’ Donuts and talk about life and spiritual things. At the time, he was the only friend I could talk to like that. One day he put this book on the table in Dunkin’ Donuts and said, “Here. This is pretty cool. I’ve been reading about this.” I picked it up and said, “Oh, this is about astrology. That’s a load of rubbish, that’s the occult. I don’t want to have anything to do with that.”

And that was that, until it wasn’t. A few weeks later, he put another astrology book down in front of me and said, “You’ve got to read this. This is good stuff. It says we’re the same sun sign. That is why we get along so well.” So I took the book and read it. I liked what I was reading. I didn’t understand a lot of it, but it set me on this course of studying astrology and learning how to do horoscope readings for people. I also thought I was learning about myself and helping others by interpreting their horoscopes.

JS: And by this time you had become a roadie for a rock band as well?

CS: Yes, I had moved to Chicago from Detroit and I was working in a Chevy dealer there selling car parts, and I liked it. It gave me some money to head out and go to music clubs and so on. I had very long hair and a Fu Manchu moustache then. It’s a funny story, but there was a girl who worked in the office at the Chevy dealer. We liked each other. But she didn’t like it that I came to work with my hair in a ponytail stuffed down my shirt to hide it, so that the bosses and customers wouldn’t be offended by it. She used to tease me and say, “You gotta let your hair out. You look so good with it long like that. Stop hiding it.” So one day to get on her better side, I arrived at work with my long hair hanging out all over the place. That went on for a couple of weeks, until the general manager took me aside and gave me an ultimatum: “You can either quit today or be laid off.” So I was suddenly out of work.

Then, long story short, a few weeks later I was partying at a music club and heard a great band, called Marcus. It was an American rock ‘n’ roll band and they were in the process of cutting their first album, which would eventually be produced by United Artists in California. We got on famously and I started travelling on the road crew with them. I eventually became the stage manager and worked with them for over a year, travelling in the Midwest.

JS: Yes, so they went off to California then and after a while – a short time back home in Detroit – you set out to drive to California?

CS: Yes, an interesting period in my life. When the band signed their contract with United Artists, they had to move to California to record the album. So the roadies were without work. I went back to Detroit and stayed in my parents’ house for a while.

But I wondered what I was going to do with my life. And I was getting deeper involved in occult practices beside astrology. I had a little room in my parents’ basement. I had a cheap desk there and all my astrology books and my other occult books. I’d sit there for hours a day with a pot of jasmine tea, trying to interpret horoscope readings and then talk to clients afterwards about that. I even got paid a little bit for doing it.wave curl

Eventually I decided I had to get to California, so I loaded up my car and began driving to California, where I hoped to work with the band again.

JS: And you drove through the Badlands of North Dakota?

CS: I did. By the way, that was interesting that you included that word in the title of your blog. I thought, “This is lovely. I wonder if John knows about the Badlands of North Dakota”. So this was the spring of 1976. I drove to Chicago, where I owed somebody a horoscope chart, dropped that off there, stayed a couple of days, and then drove across the top of the United States through the Badlands of North Dakota to Washington State and then came down the coast highway through Oregon to California.

It was in the Badlands that I started to have really strange spiritual experiences that undid my life and completely dismantled my occult worldview. I used to rely on a lot on occult beliefs, and some eastern religious beliefs – karma, reincarnation, spiritual evolution. I had a lot of really disturbing spiritual experiences all the way to southern California. They left me broken and in tears and living like a hermit on my own.

JS: And you bought a Bible and began to read it?

CS: Yes. It had been about six or eight weeks since I’d left Detroit. I was now living near a beach in southern California, in a little hotel room with a small stove, a refrigerator and some cupboards. I was now also a strict vegetarian – nuts, grains, fruits and vegetables only. And I was doing this unusual kind of fasting that I had been taught by an occult teacher. It was supposed to help me evolve spiritually. But I kept having these very disturbing, and sometimes frightening spiritual experiences. I was at my wits end and didn’t know what to do.

So about a week before my twenty-sixth birthday I bought a Bible in a Bible bookstore. I had read the whole Bible when I was an astrologer, but it didn’t communicate to me. I was in Costa Mesa, which was one of the sources for the Jesus revival that was going on during that period.

JS: That was the time of the Jesus People!

CS: Yes. But I didn’t know that. Had never heard of them. I felt really weird going into this Christian bookstore to buy a Bible and being the only longhair with the Fu Manchu, but there were longhairs there! It kind of shocked me, and nobody bothered me.

I bought a Bible and started reading it back in the hotel room. Again I couldn’t understand it. That was the last straw. One night I just broke down completely and started sobbing alongside the bed in this little room. I started crying to God, saying simply, “God I’m sorry, God I’m sorry, God, I’m sorry. I’m just a sinner”. I was sobbing and crying out to God like that for a long time that night. But after a while I began to feel deeply peaceful and I sensed the presence of Jesus in the room with me. I felt forgiven, and the terrible spiritual experiences ended. And I no longer felt like a dirty guilty person.

It was late at night when this happened. I was alone and I didn’t know what else to do so I crawled into bed and went to sleep. I woke up the next morning, and I remember laying there in that bed and everything looked different. Even the air looked different. I remember walking around that small room and looking at all the astrology books and the occult literature and all the charts I had laid out. I thought, “I’ve been duped, I’ve been duped”. It was like the Holy Spirit was already teaching me that the way that I’d been going for six or seven years with the occult was leading me the wrong way in the search for Truth.

And then I saw the open Bible on the table from the night before. Why not? I thought. So I started reading it again and I could understand it! It was amazing. And I couldn’t stop reading it. And that’s where we come back to the vow I had made years’ earlier, to find Truth with a capital T. Because I then read in scripture some weeks later that Jesus said, “I am the truth”. He says that in John’s Gospel. “I am the way, the truth and the life.” When I read that Jesus Christ was the truth, well, more blinders came off. Oh, Truth is a person, that’s astounding! That completely transformed my thinking about the source and nature of Truth.

JS: And you went back home to Detroit after that and you got into church life?

CS: Yes, I finally drove back to Detroit, but I didn’t know what to do. I was like burning out of control for Jesus. I was stopping to get gas along the road and I just had to tell the guy in the gas station about Jesus. “Can I tell you about Jesus?” I didn’t know what I would say if someone said yes. And some did. My first pastor in Detroit once joked with me about this. “Charles, new believers like you should hide out for six months because you’re doing more damage than good! You’re telling everybody about Jesus but you don’t know what you’re doing half the time.”

But he was a great pastor, and I was part of his church in the inner-city of Detroit, where I lived for a year. It was a wonderful church, a mixed congregation of blacks and whites. We served the inner city. We did a lot of Christian ministry there. We had a resale shop, we did radio broadcasts and ran concerts, we had three church services a week, we prayed a lot and had a phone counselling line. That was in 1977, and it was where I began to get my Christian legs.

JS: And for the next few years you were in Detroit and then you began to travel and you even came to the UK?

CS: I did! Another interesting period of my life. The Lord called me out of that inner-city ministry and “back into the world” – as we used to say – to work. So I went back to selling car parts and eventually landed a job in a Chevrolet dealership in downtown Detroit. I liked working there among so many different kinds of people, and I eventually became a parts manager there.

I was also supporting an American gal who was a missionary in Paisley, Scotland, with YWAM. She was an educator and she cofounded a preschool in Paisley with YWAM, called ‘The Wee Friends Preschool’, which became a template for the founding of similar other schools. She came back to the States on a short furlough, and at the time I was just a supporter of hers, but she visited me and a girlfriend of hers in Michigan, and by the end of this visit we were getting serious about each other! Linda and I got engaged, and in June of 1986, I moved to Scotland and we married in Paisley. I lived there for a few more years, and the Lord was gracious to me and began opening doors of ministry in the UK.

We moved back to the States in late 1989, and Linda returned to teaching first grade in the public schools here. Her forte is children’s literacy. She was an award-winning Teacher of the Year in Tennessee for children’s literacy.

I was being invited back to the UK. It was mind-blowing for me that churches and parachurch groups wanted this American bloke to come to teach on Christian worldview and biblical wisdom. And I learned so much from Christians I met everywhere. Some became my best friends. For ten to fifteen years I travelled all over the UK. I remember that you and I met for the first time during one of those trips, when you invited me and the lovely Pam MacKenzie to do some teaching for the Association of Christian Teachers.

JS: Yes, it was for a weekend for teachers on a Christian response to New Age philosophy! During the nineties you had become a writer as well as a speaker.

CS: Yes, that was my entry into the world of publishing. My first couple of books were about a Christian point of view on astrology and a major book on communicating the truth to New Age seekers.

Then I felt the Lord nudging me to get more and more involved in the wisdom tradition. That’s become a key in my ministry for twenty, twenty-five years now. I was an apologist for quite a while and published frequently in that field. But the field of apologetics for me was no longer getting me where I believed the Lord wanted to take me. Its organising principle tends to make as wide as possible the gulf of dissimilarities between different theologies and belief systems, and I saw the need for that. But it wasn’t satisfying my growing interests in helping people to come together on common ground in mutuality.

It was actually through a mutual friend of ours, the inimitable John Peck, whom I had met in the States a decade earlier, who began to mentor me further along in this, in biblical wisdom development. He was a godsend.

Of course, John had his hand in a lot of things in the UK, like the Greenbelt Festival and College House in Cambridge. He had done a lot of thinking about how the biblical wisdom tradition seeks to bring people who are different, even those who have different core beliefs, to bring them together on common ground to try to solve problems, work together for justice, and so on. And John relied on help from the biblical wisdom tradition for this.

I saw this as a missing jewel in Christian worldview teaching and development. Unlike the traditional apologetics paradigm, the wisdom tradition, simply put, seeks to bring people together on mutual ground, yet while acknowledging difference. This really lit my fuse. For the last twenty-five or thirty years much of my published works and talks have been trying to build on what I call a wisdom-based gospel-shaped way of engaging all of life, its art, its politics, family life, and much more, and especially, for many years now, the field of international relations, foreign policy, and diplomacy.

JS: And yes, talking about the international situation, you mentioned the assassination of President Kennedy. Most of us can remember where we were when we heard the news that he had been assassinated. And the nine-eleven attack on the Twin Towers 2001 is like that because we can all remember where we were when we heard the news of that. But in your case, Charles, it was particularly powerful, wasn’t it? Where were you when you heard about it?

CS: I have a funny way of understanding that to myself. I’m pretty sure that I was one of the last people on earth to hear about it. I had boarded a plane in Gatwick that morning before it happened. I had just finished a three-week book tour with John Peck about our book Uncommon Sense which had just come out with SPCK.

We were about two hours out of London over the Atlantic headed toward the States when the captain — I’ll never forget his announcement. Through his deep Texas drawl he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please. Your serious attention.” And he went on to explain that there had been an international incident in the United States and we had to land in Halifax, Nova Scotia. But he wouldn’t say what had happened.

So three hours later, we’re landing in Halifax, circling the airfield, and we see this very long queue of planes, dozens and dozens of jumbo jets and L1011s that have landed ahead of us in this little international airport. We passengers still didn’t know what was going on. After we had taxied to our place at the end of the queue, our captain then explained what had happened. We were like, “What?!” We were all stunned. Passengers on our plan were bussed to an air force base, where we lived for four more days. Those days and that event affected me deeply.

JS: Yes, when you were back home, you became passionate about developing what you call “wisdom-based inter-cultural relations between Christians and Muslims and wisdom-based international relations between the United States and Muslim Middle East states”. You set up the Wisdom Project and you have a blog entitled “Waging Wisdom: Uncommon Sense for a World in Conflict”. Tell us more, Charles.

CS: Thank you for that question, John. I really appreciate being able to say a few words about that. It’s a long story, but I’ll try to be brief. I slipped into a mild depression after I got home. I was praying a lot, and I concluded I could get out of it in one of two ways. I could completely ignore the significance of the nine-eleven attack or I could do a little research and study to learn what had happened. So I choose the latter option, because it was obvious that the attack couldn’t be ignored.

So I turned to the experts, but the experts in Washington were saying, “We don’t know why it happened.” To their credit, it was good to hear some humility from experts. And even from Christian leaders, who were admitting the same thing. But that was a huge disappointment, because I wanted somebody with some wisdom to explain to me why it had occurred, how to respond wisely, and how to prevent it from happening again. Well, if nobody knew, Strohmer was going to find out! Some kind of pride thing in my life!

I began some research, naively thinking that after several months of study I would learn all I needed to know about this. Then I’ll write an article or two, maybe do a couple of seminars about it, and that will be that. Well, that turned into a two- or three-year research project into the broad field of international relations, foreign policy, and diplomacy in which I was learning all sorts of new and crucial things from different points of view, especially the different American ones and many of those in the Middle East — the different ways that different capitals had of analysing and responding to the attacks.

JS: What did you do with all that research?

CS: Well, I had learned a lot about what many people would call a secular view of U.S.-Middle East foreign policy. But that wasn’t nearly enough. I thought, “What would the biblical wisdom tradition have to say about this, if anything?” After a real struggle, by the grace of God I began to be able to get under the skin of the wisdom tradition and understand how the sages who gave us that tradition understood foreign policy and diplomacy. I don’t take credit for it, but a wealth of material began to open up to me, from both the Old and New Testaments. So over time I was able to lay my understanding of the wisdom tradition alongside that of the “secular” views and then develop and offer a way of foreign policy, diplomacy, and negotiations based on biblical wisdom norms, ideas and principles.

That led to founding the Wisdom Project and to becoming a visiting research fellow for the Christian think-tank in Washington called the Centre for Public Justice. That too was a godsend, thanks to James Skillen, its then president, and its board of directors. The project grew into a major book project which has yet to be published. InterVarsity Press looked at it seriously for six months but then decided not to publish it. The book is based on what I call the five norms of wisdom and how they can help people who are different to work together, whether on a local community project or a national or international problem, be they Muslims, Christians, Jews, secularists, whoever.

It’s been a rewarding journey, and a lot of work, but the Lord has opened doors for me to talk about this with key people and groups on many different levels, including at the State Department and the Council on Foreign Relations. You know, when you get to talking with “experts” who are open to new ideas, and you sit with them and learn from them and they learn from you about ways to use the principles and norms and ideas of the historic wisdom tradition in their analyses and policy decision making, to defuse adversarial relations and suchlike, well, it’s not only exciting. It also, importantly, helps to make life a little better for any number of people. Jesus spoke of “blessed peacemakers.” Diplomats and international negotiators, among others, are tasked with fulfilling that calling.

JS: Yes, you must be looking at international relations in the present global pandemic situation and thinking what does the biblical wisdom tradition have to bring to this?

CS: I would say that there’s different levels. One is that we are now in the age of social media where there’s too much polemics going on. One of the purposes of the wisdom tradition is to help us shake free from rigid ideological thinking. But on social media you have countless people entrenched deep inside their fortresses with contradictory ideological viewpoints. They only come out to shoot polemics at each other from behind their fortress walls. That is just dividing the country, dividing people. The wisdom tradition offers us biblical norms and principles and ideas that will help out of our fortresses, let down our drawbridges, walk across our moats, and start talking with each other civilly about how we can work together to help our countries. So that’s one level.

Another level is at city-wide, regional, and state levels. Here in the States you’ve got the fifty states. In your country and in Europe you’ve got your own levels of government. But whether we are talking about cities or counties or countries, the wisdom tradition can help politicians, medical people, and other kinds of COVID-19 decision makers to be more on the same page helping us ordinary citizens to get through this difficult season with less divisiveness, in order to work together for the good of our countries. And, mind you, this is not some idealist pipe dream. The wisdom tradition is utterly realistic about what is possible in our fallen world.

And then there is international level, where these days you’ve got the United States playing off China and Russia, and vice-versa. The wisdom tradition has a lot of, well, wisdom for those who work internationally, which affects us all. Take, for example, a friend of mine, Chris Seiple, who was President of the Institute of Global Engagement in Washington DC. He has a whole paradigm that’s just lovely. It’s called “relational diplomacy,” very wisdom-based. We’ve had many conversations about how it has helped him and the IGE teams with some amazing breakthroughs in difficult situations in the Middle East to ease adversarial relations and help bring about some good changes, including when ISIS was running rampant there.

And Chris is not shy about letting his interlocutors know up front that he is an evangelical Christian. But he knows the potential of the wisdom tradition. It’s my belief and hope that if more organizations like IGE tap the potential of the biblical wisdom tradition, then parliaments, and congresses, and White Houses, and Downing Streets around the world could be more equipped to deal wisely, together, with all sorts of injustices and help make the world a better place for us ordinary folk to live in.

JS: Well, let’s pray that it will be so.

CS: Amen!

JS: Now Charles, I reckon that you’re round about three score years and ten. For a lot of people, there’s a word ‘retirement’ that comes in at that point. But in your neck of the woods, Dolly Parton came from there and she sang about “working nine till five”. Are you going to sit back? What are your plans, brother?

CS: Dolly Parton, yes, she’s still going strong. She’s quite a philanthropist, you know. We live near where she grew up. My wife retired from teaching a few years ago, but she is busier than ever, giving grace and offering wisdom in a lot of areas. But I’m not retired. I spend much of my day researching, writing, a bit of advising, and seeking advice, too. When you’ve been doing what I’ve been doing for three or four decades, you have a lot of ideas! They can overwhelm you and you think, “I’ll write about this, I’ll write about that”. I joke to myself that I want to clone myself at least three times so that I can assign projects to myself and trust they get done.

The tricky part for me is that if things come together to begin a certain project, then I’ve got to try to do it. When I worked on an assembly line decades ago, if I was sick, someone else could fill my spot on the line that day. But I have a different calling now. The onus is on me to see a task through to completion. It’s a strange responsibility. I’m always praying to try to understand just what it is I should be getting done!

A focus these past months has been trying to determine, “Lord, what are you saying about COVID-19?” I don’t want to be spinning my wheels. So I haven’t said much publicly yet because I want it to be wisdom-based, and the penny hasn’t dropped yet. So maybe I could take this opportunity to ask your readers to say a prayer about this. I would like to get some traction on making some wisdom-based communications about this difficult season that we’re all in. I’ve got ideas floating around but I need an “Aha!” moment.

JS: Charles, bless you and thank you for all that you’ve been sharing. It’s been great to talk!

CS: Thank you so much, John. Any time.

©2020 by Charles Strohmer

Creative Commons photos: Badlands, by Destination360. Wave, by Sunova Surfboards. Other photos: the two of me, by Jeremy Daley. Charles & Linda, by Diane lee.

Past, Present, Future: Christian Belief, Life, Expectation

God’s Sabbath with Creation: Vocations Fulfilled, the Glory Revealed
James W. Skillen
Wipf & Stock Publishers
368pp

Reviewed by Charles Strohmer

During the 1970s, the combined influence of books by Francis Schaeffer, the presidency of Jimmy Carter (the first self-described “born again” Christian), and the rise of the moral majority motivated many Christians to start reevaluating what it means to live in the world. A longstanding pietism in which Christians had opted out from as much of “the world” as they could possibly afford to gave way to a focus on social and political activism. This rather ad hoc and inchoate period of Christian rethinking and engagement had, by the 1990s, grown more visionary. An entire industry had arisen in Protestant circles for educating believers about serving God in all of life – work, art, philosophy, education, economics, science, the environment, and all the rest of it. The troubling tension of how to be in the world but not of the world had become passe. Now it was simply a matter of discovering how best to engage.

Today it is easy to find biblically-grounded books, conferences, activist non-profits, and courses in Christian colleges and universities nourishing and training believers in well-thought-out ways to live in the world for the glory of God in their chosen fields. As one of many writing and teaching voices of this expanding universe, I’ve had to keep abreast of developments. Space and time constraints preclude saying more about that universe here. Instead, I want to focus on James Skillen’s remarkable book God’s Sabbath with Creation: Vocations Fulfilled, the Glory Revealed.

This is a book of exceptional importance. Rarely have I come across a work with weightier significance about what it means to live for the glory of God today, in the here and now. Of course this is a theme familiar to Christians. Yet familiarity can breed inattention. That would be a mistake with God’s Sabbath with Creation. For it is Skillen’s pioneering way of getting us to think about what it means to live today for the glory of God that marks this as a standout book. His subject is the great biblical drama from the creation to the future we anticipate in the age to come, and, importantly, human responsibility within that drama. For Skillen places how we live today not in some existential moment but within God-commissioned human responsibilities, which run throughout history from the creation to the age to come. Even seasoned public voices on this subject should find the book stimulating and memorable.

Begun in seminary and college and continuing irregularly afterward, this book was a long time coming; it is easy to see why it is Skillen’s magnum opus. In it, he steps back from the subjects of his many previous books, which enter into problems of contemporary politics and obstacles to just governance (domestically and internationally). In God’s Sabbath with Creation he offers invigorating insights from decades of hard-won wisdom as an elder statesman in the body of Christ and a respected public figure who has wrestled with the Scriptures about the meaning of both the creation and human life as they are related to the future that Christians anticipate in the glory of the age to come. He aims to show, and in ways that may surprise, essential connections between the creation, how life in this world is lived, and the future that God has promised.

To set the stage, he writes that two questions had been growing on him throughout seminary and college: “1) is the fundamental identity of humans their sinfulness?, and 2) is the fundamental identity of Jesus that he is the savior of sinners?” He eventually concluded that “the sin-and-salvation story is an insufficient abstraction from the larger biblical story.” Although sin and salvation are fundamental to his thought, the book’s thesis takes seriously the larger biblical view that Jesus is not first of all the savior of sinners, and that humans are not first of all sinners. Instead, he explains, Jesus, the incarnate savior, is first of all the one through whom all things are created and hang together, and humans, though sinful, are first of all the creature made in the image of God. Having set that stage, Skillen raises the curtain on “how the sin-and-salvation story unfolds within God’s seven-day creation order, culminating in the celebration of divine glory in God’s sabbath with creation” (his emphasis).

Because what we believe about the age to come is influenced by how we understand our origin, Skillen starts us on our journey to the anticipated future with a distinct interpretation of the seven days of creation. Calling attention to the Creator, he explains how and why Genesis chapters one and two tell the story “of God’s days, not sun-and-moon days, geological eons, or evolutionary stages.” In other words, “it is clear that the ‘time’ of God’s creation week does not belong to the time of our days and weeks under the solar-lunar order, which God establishes as his fourth creation day. God’s days constitute everything including the sun and moon days of God’s fourth day.”

Especially important, he continues, “is the way the days are defined by their content, that is, by what God makes. . . . The text does not say, ‘On the third day, God made this or that,’ as if a sequence of days already existed and the creator simply made different things on each successive day. No, the creation days are God’s days and they are distinguished by what God makes.” Skillen helpfully illustrates this by noting that it is one of the ways we talk about time when speak of dinnertime, bedtime, or harvest time. “Each of those ‘times’ is defined by an action or subject matter, not by a pre-determined number of minutes, hours, or days. God’s seventh day does not even have an evening and morning, yet, it, too, is called a day – the day when God’s creation reaches its climax.”

A full range of thoughts about God’s days and God’s time, and connected topics, are developed in Part 1, themed as “Created Reality.” Topics include the evening and morning phrases of Genesis one, human identity, creation as architectural wonder, cosmic temple imagery, and the male and female image of God. Skillen has much to say about God’s days as encompassing all of creation, from beginning to fulfillment, and that the full reality of God’s seven-day creation week entails both this age and the age to come.

The stage is now set for us to move from being mere onlookers at the biblical drama to commissioned participators in it. Skillen writes that human identity includes “the exercise of high-level responsibilities in God’s creation,” and the theme of “human responsibility” is  a central focus of the book. Skillen often discusses our many and varied responsibilities in this age in terms of our “sixth-day commission from God” – a commission that very much matters for the age to come. “The meaning and purpose of human life on earth has not yet reached fulfillment” because “men and women have not yet completed their sixth-day commission from God.”

Understanding human purpose on earth is essential to Christian thought. One of the invigorating insights Skillen makes to this is his way of including the nonhuman things of creation, which also very much matter for the age to come. For instance, “humans are unable to exercise their responsibilities without light from the sun, moon and stars, food to eat, water to drink, dry land to live on, plants and animals, and fellowship with one another and with God. . . .” Thus nonhuman creatures are made for distinctive purposes and functions. “Sun, moon, and stars govern the day and the night. Plants, trees, fish, fowl, and animals bear fruit or generate offspring.” Beyond that common understanding, every nonhuman creature, he writes, has its commission and reveals “something of God because they are constituted in their very identity to be revelatory in anticipation of the fulfilled creation.” The nonhuman creatures, then, “host humans as part of the creation’s hospitable welcome and praise of God. . . . That is why the psalmist [Psalm 148] can call on all of them to worship and praise God.”

Skillen’s emphasis on the nonhuman things of God’s creation is a key to his thesis of human responsibility throughout history. We live in “the arena of human generational development, a narrative that can be nothing other than the drama of sixth-day human creatures in their relations to one another, to all other creatures, and, above all, to God who orients the whole creation toward its seventh-day climax.” It is in this created context (nowhere else) that we have been given commissions to fulfill. “Humans are able to obey or disobey the creator, but they cannot sidestep or escape the responsibility inherent in their identity and commission from God.”

Throughout the book Skillen sheds fresh light on diverse responsibilities that we have – to God, to nonhuman creatures, to each other, and to all of life in the here and now – as we move through this world toward the future glory. These are responsibilities that include much more than practicing spiritual disciplines, such as faithful praying, or obvious moral behaviors, such as not flirting with the secretary and no longer cheating on your taxes. Human responsibilities are, he writes, “seemingly innumerable.” They are many and varied, multifaceted, vast in scope, and develop in ever-greater complexity over generations.

The book explores areas of responsibility that reach into the future, but that we may not have thought about, or that we may have decided to ignore as unimportant in the long run. Here is a sampling. Tilling and harvesting, animal husbandry, medical care, music-making, engineering, writing and speaking, exploring the microcosmic and the macrocosmic, economic development, public governance, clothing design, preparing food, working in the law courts, care for the elderly.

Since “none of God’s six creation days has yet been wrapped up,” Skillen argues that every human responsibility is always contextualized within the ongoing days of creation, from the beginning. “With the unfolding of the human generations and the historical development of their talents and capabilities, their responses to God’s commission diversifies into a vast array of responsibilities. Humans name the animals, begin to tend the garden, bear children, and in the course of their generational unfolding discover more and more ways to develop the creation and their own talents in exercising royal and priestly responsibilities. Humans make music, invent tools, nurture friendships, engage in commerce, and govern clans, cities, and nations.”

Skillen connects his appeal for increased human responsibility to the word “vocation,” which appears first in the book’s subtitle and provides another key to his thought. He is not limiting the idea of vocation to the sense of a religious calling, such as to the ministry, nor to one’s chief occupation, or career. He does not preclude those senses of the word, but he is employing “vocation” somewhat correspondingly to what some call the “cultural mandate.” In fact, however, he is opening that mandate up in a way that may be surprising, yet hopefully helpfully so, to many Christians.

Here I am thinking of the Christian circles where an understanding of the cultural mandate has been framed by what has been called the seven mind molders, or seven spheres, of Christian influence: family, church (religion), education, media (distribution of information), government (law), business, and arts (including entertainment). Although Skillen does not directly engage with this framework of understanding, he certainly includes the seven areas as in need of being transformed by biblical thinking. But he unfolds and diversifies human responsibility into aspects of life, and, significantly, a way of thinking about them, well beyond even the most sophisticated developments of the seven mind molders paradigm.

There is much solid food in this large book, which is helpfully organized in seven parts, each with several short chapters that shed light on the continuity between the creation, what we do each day, and the future glory. Part 2 considers the meaning of four of creation’s “revelatory patterns,” which Skillen names with the doublets: honor and hospitality, commission towards commendation, covenant for community, and revelation in anticipation, including insights about the revelatory nature of creation. For instance, he writes: “The Garden of Eden, the tabernacle, the temple, the people of Israel, the body of Christ – all these reveal something about, and point toward, the climatic, seventh-day fulfillment of them all. Every earthly expression of God dwelling with his people and the people with God serve as revelatory images of God’s larger, creation-wide building project. The architectural wonder of creation is that all creatures in their glory are made for God, for relationship with God, and fulfillment in God’s unending sabbath celebration.”

Part 3 provides biblical examples of the “covenantal disclosure of reality,” which, Skillen explains, is cumulative and multi-generational in purpose from the beginning, forward moving in time from simplicity to complexity. This “dynamic of an ever-expanding revelation of God with, to, and through the human generations keeps intensifying in anticipation of the culminating fulfillment of all that has been, and is being revealed. To underestimate or to miss the intensification of this mounting covenantal disclosure is to miss the revelatory and anticipatory character of God’s purposes for and with creation.”

Parts 4, 5, and 6 take up themes of lively debate in biblical interpretation today, to show how an understanding of creation as God’s seven-day week sheds light on those subjects. These three parts explore the relation of the first Adam to the last Adam, the biblical tension between the “already” and the “not yet” of God’s kingdom, and, relying on Romans 9-11 and Hebrew 4, the historically weighty questions of the relation of God’s covenant with Israel to the new covenant in Messiah Jesus, to the church, and to what Skillen calls “becoming Bethel.”

The book abounds with a mature, biblically-based practical wisdom for running the race that has been set before us in the here and now, as individuals, groups, institutions, and nations in anticipation of entering into God’s rest, the seventh day of creation. Part 7, in fact, includes much discussion about wisdom itself. There, Skillen has averred that wisdom is what parents need for nurturing loving families through many stages of development and unanticipated crises. It is what government officials need for conducting sound statecraft and to uphold justice. It is what responsible farmers, engineers, teachers, artists, entrepreneurs, and others of all sorts need “for the development and practice of their distinctive crafts, the organizing of interrelated disciplines, and for training apprentices who will eventually be able to go beyond their mentors in creative and fruitful achievements.”

When “humans conduct their affairs worthily, build sound institutions as well as trustworthy relationships, and do right by one another and other creatures, then they reveal something of the wisdom and glory of God that anticipates the full disclosure of the glory in the age to come.” In short: “Wisdom is not first of all a tool for survival, but the fuel for flourishing in God’s creation as we learn to know ourselves ever more truly in the process of knowing God ever more profoundly.”

The book’s aim, then, is broadly threefold, weaving together the creational, the teleological, and the eschatological. In these three areas, pastors, seminary and university professors, child reading a Bibleand students who work in the area of biblical studies will benefit from Skillen’s clarifying insights throughout the book as he engages with the views of prominent theologians, philosophers, and scholars. Among them: N. T. Wright, Jürgen Moltmann, Abraham Kuyper, Karl Barth, Craig Bartholomew, Meredith Kline, Herman Ridderbos, Eric Voegelin, Richard Gaffin, and Terence Fretheim. Skillen’s many generously footnoted, discerning outcomes with his interlocutors alone are worth having this book to-hand, as does its bibliography and extensive index.

Having said that, I should add that just about anyone with a serious interest in the Bible will benefit from the book, even those who run across an occasional page where they may be unfamiliar with an idea of one of Skillen’s interlocutors. The footnotes for any such moment may prove helpful, but if not, I would suggest just keep reading. You don’t need to grasp all of the more specialized ideas to benefit from the book’s overall wisdom. On the other hand, readers who hold to an eighth-day view of the age to come, or those with a prodigal exuberance for being transported to the streets of gold, may be particularly challenged.

All readers, however, even if meeting with new ideas at times, will journey through God’s Sabbath with Creation in the kind of rest that is classic Skillen, writing, as he does, with a humility and grace that gives readers room to make their own decisions. Even when he is critically engaging with his scholarly interlocutors, collegiality stands out. The spirit and tone of the book is a refreshing relief from the incessant viewpoint screaming on social media and the braying of absolutized social and political values and interests by so many pundits.

Skillen summons us to reach toward maturity in our many and varied responsibilities, to live a life worthy of the vocations we have received. Laurels are not to be rested on. Skillen has, through much experience, earned the wisdom to admonish us where that is needed. He points out, clearly and perceptively, paths whose means and ends, if we follow any, will prevent us from being all that we can be as the image of God in our world. We may, to note just one here, fall prey to a subtle reliance on the ideals of freedom and human autonomy. In short, “self-generated preferences” must go. Instead, what is required is our “attentive listening above all to God and to the reality of God’s ordered creation, a reality which we did not create and in which we are not the only creature.” We have “God’s promises of a reordered world,” he writes, ever mindful that “there are no cheap and quick answers for those suffering great harms.”

In rabbinic thought, there is an old parable that seeks to aid in understanding God’s call of Abram to leave home (Genesis 12:1). The gist of the parable is this. Abram has left Tehran, his home, and while traveling he is bewildered by all the injustices and evil he sees during his travels from place to place. Somewhere he becomes deeply distressed when seeing a palace in flames. If its owner went to all the trouble to build something so beautiful, he wonders, why isn’t he looking after it, why does he leave it to the flames? While pondering this evil, the owner of the palace looks out at him and says, “I am the owner of the palace.” Suddenly the penny drops for Abram and he associates the experience with God and God’s good creation. He now understands that God has not abandoned his creation, not left it to the flames.

Modern rabbis tend to interpret the parable as a calling for Abraham to instruct his children and posterity to fight against the moral disorder, bloodshed, and chaos of the world by keeping the way of the Lord by doing what is just and right (Genesis 18:19). In the words of Rabbi Shai Held, Abraham “and his descendants are called to embody a different way of being in the world, to present a living alternative to the horrors of the world as it is.”

James Skillen has given us a book about the meaning that Christian difference and presence can make in the world, today, in light of glory of the age to come. Like Abraham and the biblical prophets, we as Jesus Christ’s followers are called to embody a living alternative to the evil, injustice, and horrors of our day. Things are not currently what they should be. The creation is not yet what it is ultimately intended to be.

But the palace is not going to be destroyed. God’s Sabbath with Creation explores why, and how, maturing fulfillment of God-commissioned responsibilities play prominent roles in the great drama of what the creation is ultimately intended to be, when, as Skillen concludes, the time of God’s sabbath arrives – the seventh day creation – when human will rest from their labors in God’s rest.

©2020 by Charles Strohmer

Images: courtesy of Creative Commons, in this order: Sam Mac Entee, National Geographic Society, Samantha Sophia

The Songs of Christmas: An Encounter

Upon becoming a follower of Jesus after living for twenty-six years in darkness, I saw a great light, and it revealed many utterly surprising things to me during the next few months, as the process of transformation ensued. I had become a follower – by the saving grace of God, let me make clear – in the heat of the summer. By the time the leaves were turning brown and the weather was cooling in Michigan, where I lived at the time, I had been a recipient of so many astonishing flashes of insight about life (also not apart from the grace of God) that I would have been most foolish not to recognize what I was being taught: how darkened one’s understanding about all things could become in a life lived without the light of Christ.

Then came the week following Thanksgiving and it happened again. The general “it,” here, being another reminder of a cryptic statement from Jesus: if the light that is in you is darkness, how great is that darkness! (Note: Jesus is not asking a question but exclaiming a fact). The specific “it” being the sudden gasp escaping from my lips when I heard Christmas music playing on my car radio one evening.

Of course I’d heard these songs before, in my dark days, and countless times, on the radio, at home while growing up, at every mass during Christmastime. Though old, they were enjoyable to listen to; though memorable, they were soon forgotten, even the ones whose lyrics I could recite by heart. It was merely seasonal music to me. It comes and it goes.

Then, as Thanksgiving weekend yielded to festive sights and deep snows of December, Christmas music suddenly became alive to me in the light of life. Variations on a theme – a world being offered peace and its peoples good will – their profound meaning hit me with unforgettable force. Never had I ever experienced that during any of the countless times I had heard these songs in the past, not even in church.

Now I don’t mean songs such as Jingle Bell Rock, Frosty the Snowman, Christmas (Baby Please Come Home), or any of that ilk. I mean sacred songs, Christmas carols of themes of Christ’s birth.

“Joy to the world, the Lord has come!” Indeed.

“Hark! the herald angels sing, glory to the new-born King!”arch in blue sky

“O holy night the stars are brightly shining / It is the night of our dear Savior’s birth.” Amen.

“O come, let us adore him, Christ the Lord / Sing choirs of angels, sing in exultation.”

What child is this, who, laid to rest, on Mary’s lap is sleeping?” Yes, what child?!

“Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas day, to save us all from Satan’s power when we were gone astray.”

“Go tell it on a mountain.” I will! I will! Such was their profound effect on me then, and now. Many others, too.

I hope that if you have not yet been ushered by God’s grace into the Meaning of the sacred songs of Christmas, that their utterly amazing “tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy” will soon be yours.

©2019 by Charles Strohmer

Photos: Creative Commons. Bottom image: Chris Hagood

 

Stranger at the Gate

The second time I saw the aged gentleman was at the gate where my wife and I were waiting to board our flight back east. He had been pushed there in a wheelchair by a muscular sheriff, equipped in full gear and accompanied by a social worker. I could understand the social worker’s presence, but a sheriff’s? Law enforcement did not fit the scene I had witnessed the first time I saw the fragile but well-dressed figure, an hour earlier, standing unsteadily in the queue at the airline’s check-in counter, just ahead of me and my wife.

He was alone and should not have been. Shrunk down with age, he was standing alongside a rolling walker as if he were balancing on thin ice. He would inch a tentative step or two closer to the walker and then slightly stoop to grab support from one of its handle grips. The walker sometimes wiggled on its small wheels as he moved like this. Then as if having second thoughts, he would release his grip and stand as straight as his frail frame allowed, for as long as possible – never for long.

He wore the pained expression of a helpless person deeply disturbed about something. But what? He regularly alternated his gaze toward the check-in counter and then to the nearby, large plate glass windows and sliding doors that offered a view of the drop-off area at the curb. He seemed to be searching for an explanation to come from either counter or curb. But none came.

Although it was 9:30 in the morning, there was hardly a soul in the small airport on California’s central coast. Four ticket holders had arrived before me and my wife, and we had all arrived too early to check in; there were no airline personnel at the counter. The third in the queue was the elderly gentleman. One of the ticket holders talked briefly with him from time to time, but he spoke softly and I couldn’t catch what he was saying. When I mentioned this to my wife later, she explained that he was agitated and kept whispering, Where is she? Why did she leave me here? When is she coming back?

Around 10am, he seemed to give up expecting any help to arrive from the counter or the curb. I was a mere two arm-lengths distant, but by the time I had quit arguing with myself about whether to assist him in the effort, he had labored himself down upon the rolling walker’s padded seat. As if on cue the check-in crew appeared. My wife rushed to assist him and to ensure that a flight attendant got the picture.

In a matter of minutes we had been checked in for our flight to Dallas and ushered uneventfully through the TSA scanners. In the waiting lounge near our gate–an hour to fill, and eager to finish an engaging book–I promptly forgot about the man I would soon know as “David,” whom I had last seen talking with a flight attendant at the check-in counter. A half-hour passed and suddenly there he was. The sheriff had left him with the social worker at a convenient spot near the gate. The two were sitting next to each other but not talking. I had a good view of his downcast face. When we made eye contact, he looked sorrowful.

They boarded him first. My wife and I were among the last. A ticketing issue and a full plane prevented us from sitting together. Never mind. We had been given window seats. As we boarded I followed her profile up the narrow aisle with my eyes until she found her seat, then I looked for mine. And there he was again, in a bulkhead seat on the aisle, the window seat next to him empty, no social worker in sight. He was clutching a wad of papers and a prepackaged sandwich in his right hand. He looked preoccupied and I hated to interrupt him.

Excuse me, I said. He looked up and turned sideways as best he could to make room as I bent to squeeze past him–banging my head sharply on the low overhead compartment–to occupy the seat next to him for the three hour flight. On planes I often argue with myself about whether to engage the person next to me, or to pretend invisibility and disappear into a book. This time I favored the book I hadn’t finished in the lounge. (Good Prose: The Art of Nonfiction, if you’d like to know.) I pulled it out of my carry-on bag and made sure my seatmate knew what I had planned. I wondered about the sheriff, but felt it wasn’t my place to pry.

Before I could get back into issues of prose structure and style, however, the joke I made about banging my head had brought a smile to his face. We introduced ourselves and made some small talk. He carried a gracious, almost dignified, manner, and seemed keen to tell me something. But I wasn’t getting it. At times he spoke in complete thoughts and was easy to follow. Sometimes he fell silent, leaving a thought uncompleted. Other times he jumped from topic to topic sans any segues that I could detect. Even when I leaned in, it was hard to hear his softly spoken words above the engines. I thought I caught the words “her daughter,” “kidnapping,” and “two women,” but I wasn’t sure, so I let it go.

Do you live in Dallas? I asked. I’m going to Connecticut, he said. Oh, you must have been visiting someone in California, I said, wondering why anyone had allowed this fragile figure to travel across the country on his own. No, he said, I’ve been living in California with my wife.

helping handA hostess locked her cart next to us at the bulkhead and handed out pretzels and drinks. I accepted a cranberry drink and took a protein bar from my carry-on. Papers and sandwich still clutched in his hand, David folded the papers out of the way and began slow work on the sandwich.

Man, you’ve got a long day ahead of you, I said after he’d finished eating what he could of his sandwich. You’re probably not going to get to Connecticut until midnight. My children are in Connecticut, he said. They want me and my wife to live with them there. I’m going to make arrangements. Then I clearly heard “her daughter” and “kidnapping,” and also “two women” and “one-year-old boy,” but for no apparent reason. I wanted to ask why he said this but decided not to.

My wife had a stroke in Florida last year, he said, emerging from silence. She can’t walk. Her daughter got her to move to California. Said she would take care of her. So we moved. But I’m done with her now. Who does he mean? I wondered, now more curious. [Unclear] we never should have done that, he added. [Unclear] worst decision we ever made. We lost everything.

As we flew on, I learned that he was eighty-six and that for thirty-two years he had been an assistant to the headmaster of a large boys’ school in the Midwest, and that afterward he had retired to Florida. That long career accounted for his gracious, disciplined deportment, but it could not hide his distress whenever he returned to “the kidnapping.”

This put me in a dilemma. The journalist in me wanted to probe, question, conduct an interview, get the story. The Christian in me wanted to be a listening ear, to befriend the stranger, to reach out somehow with grace.

I carefully slid from my seat and walked the long aisle to the toilet. Earlier in the flight, David and I had talked about our churches, and discovered we were brothers in Christ. When I got back to my seat, I said I was sorry to hear about his wife and that I would pray for her and the move to Connecticut. Thank you. I’ll say a prayer for you, too, he said. We had a nice house in Florida, he added after a pause. We should have stayed there.

I was learning something. But what? Even though he occasionally repeated himself, I was still missing many of his words. Whatever story he was telling, I wasn’t getting it. Afterward, it reminded me of trying to understand a movie you had walked in on in the middle of. I did catch that the kidnapping had taken place in California. It clearly pained him to talk about it, but talk about it he did.

When he asked if I’d seen the Amber Alert on the news in California, I explained that I’d been on vacation and tried not to listen to the news. They kidnapped a one-year-old boy, he said. Can you believe it? A one-year-old. It was on the news for days. When? I asked. A few days ago, he said. The boy was in protective custody. But they caught them. Her daughter put a knife to the social worker’s throat. Told her she’d kill her if she didn’t let them take her son. That’s terrible, I said, words failing me. They kidnapped him, a one-year-old boy, he said again. Can you believe that? That’s so terrible, I said again. David fell silent, and I wondered who he was talking about.

Will you have to fly back to California to bring your wife to Connecticut, I asked? No, he said. The social worker is arranging that. We’ve lost everything. After my wife had her stroke, her daughter convinced her to move to California so she could look after my wife. So we moved there from Florida. But we found out that she only wanted my wife’s money. Her daughter spent it on herself and her daughter. The social worker told me that after they caught them. Caught who? I blurted out.

My wife’s daughter and her daughter, he said. They caught them in Los Angeles. The social worker told me they think they were headed for Mexico. Kidnaping, attempted murder. Can you believe it? They’ll go to jail for a long time, won’t they? I guess so, I said. My wife is heartbroken, he said. When I told her about her daughter she cried. But the little boy is safe now. But can you imagine him growing up with them?

I could not.

But I could reflect on our conversation, and I had plenty of time for doing that during the four-hour layover after my wife and I deplaned in Dallas, before our flight home to Knoxville. As we said our goodbyes, David warmly shook my hand, said Thank you, and added: Say a prayer for my wife. He was wheelchaired to the gate where he would connect with a flight to LaGuardia. There, his family would pick him up for the drive to Connecticut. I kicked myself for not having asked him for his number so I could follow up. Many times I almost asked, but it never seemed appropriate.

I found a comfortable chair in a quiet area of the large terminal, where I pulled a pen and a small spiral notebook from my shirt pocket and scribbled pages of notes about the last three hours. Who would’ve thought this likable person was suffering so much? I spent days afterward thinking about him, and whether I’d been the right kind of seatmate.

God and AdamThen the penny dropped. He was heartbroken and needed to talk with someone other than with social workers, the police, or even his family about what had just happened to him and his wife. Talking with them, as necessary as that had been, had not been a means to the emotional distance he needed from so much anguish. Perhaps our long, off-and-on conversation had been that means of grace. David had seemed seem calmer, more at peace, when we said our goodbyes.

In a gentle, beautiful book, The Shape of Living, David Ford notes that people who suffer from severe evil and injustice are overwhelmed by it; they suffer alone and need to be held in non-physical ways that bring divine grace. But how do you hold a stranger that way in the middle of an airplane—on a flight across the country?

As I reflect on my hours alongside this kindly African-American gentleman, I remember one of the many things I learned from reading Abraham Joshua Heschel. It’s a line from God in Search of Man: “Something sacred is at stake in every event.” As a Christian, I’ve come to interpret this to mean that when I come into the presence of another human being, especially a suffering one, I can enter into the presence of Christ and it’s no longer about what I want, it’s about what Christ wants.

If I could talk to David again I would of course ask how life was going now for him and his wife, but I would also ask him if he was checking me out early on in our conversation to determine how much he could say to this stranger at the gate. Then I was glad that, by God’s grace, I’d leaned away from the journalistic me and instead leaned in as a listening ear.

©2019 by Charles Strohmer

Images courtesy of Creative Commons: Richard Lehoux; Mandajuice; Waiting for God

Snow, a novel

crescent moonIn his aesthetic masterwork The Little Drummer Girl, acclaimed novelist John LeCarré has his main character, the British actress Charlie, lured from the London stage into the violence and intrigue of Middle East terrorism – you’ll have a part in “the theater of the real” is the way Charlie’s Israeli intelligence handler puts it to her. The novel itself is superior layered theater. Snow, by Turkish novelist Orhan Pamuk, is remarkable theater in its own way.

Many are the nonfiction books today about the play of religion and secularism between Islam and the West, but Snow as novel takes us into that story in a way that “issue” books cannot possibly do. Snow as art invites readers into a world of conflicting impulses, tormented loves, and even farcical actions that can emerge from the warring values residing within individuals caught in the bitter and very real theater of today’s collision between Western ideals and Islamic extremism. Pamuk, a Turkish writer and recipient of international literary awards, sits his readers down to a compelling drama that takes place during a three-day period in the life of the poet Ka, who has just returned from twelve years of political exile in Frankfurt to the remote Turkish town of Kars, the home of his cultured, middle-class youth.

Many are the threads of Snow’s absorbing plot. Ka, hoping for an anodyne solution to a long and depressing period in which poems have quit coming to him in Germany, has accepted an assignment as a journalist to go to Kars to write about a wave of suicides by teenage girls forbidden to wear their head scarves at school. He arrives by bus at the start of a blinding three-day snowstorm, which quickly seals Kars off from the Western world, Ka’s frame of reference for more than a decade. But it’s the possibility for love, we learn, which is Ka’s real motivation for accepting this assignment. For in Kars there lives the beautiful Ipek, a recently divorced friend of Ka’s from his youth. He has gone to boldly and abruptly declare his love (read: obsession).

The elation of romance is matched, if not surpassed, by the happiness Ka finds when a flurry of poems suddenly begin accumulating in his notebook, poems which Ka finds upon reflection to be organized around the “mysterious underlying structure” of a snowflake. But neither romance nor poetry can save him from a personal crisis of faith, which becomes as disorienting as the city itself becomes in the play between religious radicals and secularists.

Ka’s crisis of faith touches not only in his romance with Ipek but also his encounters with her sister (a political Islamist) and others: the police, several of the town’s odd and zany characters, poverty-stricken families, and militant religious and secular groups. There’s Nicep, a curious irony of religious student wanting to become the world’s first Islamic sci-fi writer, who tells Ka that because Ka is of the intelligentsia he will never become a believer in God. There’s the mysterious, charismatic Blue, who is in hiding. In one of Ka’s long conversations with Blue, in which Ka reasons that surely God must be the source of the happiness he is now experiencing through the new poems, Blue replies: “I don’t want to destroy your illusions, but your love for God comes out of Western romantic novels… And know this: People who seek only happiness never find it.” Through such scenes, there are many of them, we enter into the sympathies, cognitive dissonance, and conversational insights of Kar’s townspeople, who are entangled in the interplay of religious-secular tensions and contradictions.

And in what is central to the novel, Ka, through the forceful personality of the famous actor and playwright Sunay Zaim, finds himself becoming the pawn of a leftist theater troupe. In collusion with a military determined to restrain local Islamist radicals, Zaim pulls off a bloody coup during a theater production in a packed house. The intrigue that follows sets in motion events that endanger Ka’s life, and it is only after the snow finally ends, the roads are cleared, and Kars reopens to the West that we discover the end of Ka’s bid for love and happiness.

Even though it has been eighteen years since September 11, 2001, many people in the West, arguably more so in America than in Europe, still hold remorselessly to caricatured pictures of Muslims and their communities. Pamuk invites us to look elsewhere. In Snow, he opens the curtain on a world we are not familiar with. You won’t be disappointed if you accept his invitation. But then again, as LeCarré’s Charlie learned, you might find some roles back in the theater of the real, including perhaps your own, disturbing.

Reviewed by Charles Strohmer

©2019 by Charles Strohmer

Image: Creative Commons, courtesy of Marshall Space Flight Center

“Waiting”

“Waiting,” by guest writer Art Stump

I sit beside the bed holding her hand as she lies still. A ventilator gives her breath, a monitor silently displays her heartbeat. We’ve been left here alone.

All the commotion and confusion has stopped. The machines have been muted. There’s no more rush to save, no more race to stop time. No more adrenaline. No more reviving.

Just waiting.

I cheer her on even though I don’t know if she can hear me.

“You can do it. You can beat this. We can walk out of here. You’re strong. I love you. The girls love you. We need you. Keep that heart beating. Come on. You can do it.”

I refuse to let her know how hopeless I feel, trapped on this day’s wild ride, powerless to make it stop. It’s quiet in this room but the noise inside my head is piercing. I can’t see. I can’t make out the shapes. Is her heart beating faster? My heart is pounding.

I can’t breathe. I move my head from side to side, then open and close my eyes slowly, then quickly, then close them again as tightly as I can. There’s a blur.

The monitor. She’s okay.

I clutch her hand tighter and send more rallying cries.

“You can do it. Don’t give up. We need you.”

Early this morning she woke me up saying, “I think I need to go to the emergency room.” She had been restless and unsettled all night, coughing in fits, struggling to catch her breath. As she stood there dressed and ready to go, I felt caught in the middle of a half-awake dream. On our way to the hospital, I questioned to myself whether it was necessary. It seemed so routine. We would be home in a few hours and life would go on. Only a small disruption in the weekend.

But then suddenly she seemed to be tumbling downhill like a speeding skier falling off the side of a mountain out of control. All I could do was try to smile, keeping positive and hopeful. Now, thinking back, I realize she knew. And she was scared. I don’t know that I ever got scared. It all happened so fast.

Four statements burst into me like rapid rounds of machine-gun fire.

“You need to prepare yourself for the worst.”

“We’re sending her to another hospital by helicopter.”

“We made it here and she’s stable.”

“She has a 10% chance of surviving.”

These words—spoken by three different doctors over the course of several hours—are cascading into my mind all at once. Time has stopped.

I see the monitor flutter and the line goes straight.

“Come on. Don’t give up. You’re strong. You can do it!”

Numbers are back, the lines are jumping again. She’s okay.

Everything that has happened all day slowly gathers inside me. Words spoken and not spoken. Fears. Doubts. Phone calls. Prayers. Hope. I’m still cheering her on, but I’m watching it all happen. Two minutes play out like two lifetimes.

The monitor stops again.

And then a grenade explodes in my heart, triggering a silent scream of pain. A scream no one will ever hear, yet so loud it will drown out everything around me for a long, long time.

 

My thanks to Art Stump for submitting this moving reflection about the sudden loss of his wife, Lee Ann, to this blog. Art is a friend I met through church, where he plays keyboards in the worship band and hosts a podcast with our pastor. He is a loss prevention manager for a national chain that sells small appliances.

Image: Creative Commons, from Scott Mac Entee

©2019 by Charles Strohmer

Strangers in a Strange Land: What I Didn’t Know about the U.S. Immigration Controversy

In recent weeks a friend and I have enjoyed meeting at a local gastropub for long conversations about building the controversial wall along the southern border of the United States. Well, why not? Timely topic, good food, tasty brews. What began as an informal “wall / no wall” debate did not get us very far, but not because we ended up seething at each as many do on Facebook and other social media about this topic. Nor did we not get very far because we had exhausted the topic. Just the opposite. The “wall / no wall,” either-or polarization, we realized, had merely offered us a starting point that necessitated stepping back to see the bigger picture of immigration control, what President Trump and others call the broken immigration system.

Fixing a system of course entails engaging in systems thinking. As someone has aptly said, if you jiggle over here, something is going to wiggle over there. Said another way, you can never do merely one thing to fix a system – just ask any car buff who has restored an old jalopy. So Jim and I met again, but not to talk about fixing the system. Our goal was to start getting to grips with the bigger picture, or at least to see as much of it as we could identify given our resources. After all, how can wise decisions be made about fixing a system with multiple problems unless the bigger picture is first known?

This article identifies key aspects of the immigration big picture along our southern border, but what follows is not the last word on the subject. I offer it as a learner. The immigration picture at the southern border is complex and changing, and it has been grossly misrepresented by politicians, news media, and influential others who have us focused on watching a “wall / no wall” game of ping-pong. My aim is to share what I have learned so far (some of which was surprising) about a system that is not working. If it helps you, I would like to know about that. If you can help me further in my understanding, I would like to hear from you too.

The “wall / no wall” way of seeing is like a race horse wearing blinders. The thoroughbred’s peripheral vision is deliberately eliminated for the purpose of focusing the horse’s attention on the track ahead. Blinders narrow the horse’s vision to help keep it from running off course and to protect both jockey and horse from accidents and injuries. During a horse race this is beneficial for the horses, the jockeys, and the sport. Nothing beneficial, or sporting, has accrued to our country, or to the immigrants, by having a blinkered vision of immigration.

THE BORDERLAND
The U.S. – Mexico border is the world’s most transited international border. Four states make up its approximately 1,950 miles. California: 140 miles. Arizona: 370 miles. New Mexico: 180 miles. Texas: 1,254 miles. There are 5 Mexican states along the border: Baja California, Sonora, Chihuahua, Coahuila, Nuevo León, and Tamaulipas, and 23 U.S. counties and 39 Mexican municipalities. A variety of towns, cities, small farms, deserts, and ecosystems comprise the borderland area, whose total population is estimated at 12 million people.

There are 48 legal crossing points along the long border (that figure does not include numerous railroad and ferry crossings). The crossings are staffed with thousands of U.S. Customs and Border personnel and maintained around the clock year after year. To that large number add tens of thousands of U.S. Border Patrol agents (they typically do not work at the crossing points) and their vast amount of equipment and its maintenance. Add up all the personnel, their equipment, and its maintenance and it is easy to see why the economic cost of running three shifts (24/7/365) to secure that border runs into hundreds of billions of dollars annually. (This figure does not include ICE agents and their equipment or the military.)

Health concerns and socioeconomic issues are also in play, especially at major crossings such as the three between San Diego and Tijuana, where as many as 50 million people pass through those three border crossings every year. The population for that region is estimated at 4,900,000, making it the second largest bi-national area of conurbation in the U.S., not far behind the Detroit – Windsor area’s population of 5,700,000.

Increasing air pollution has been a significant problem in the San Diego and Tijuana region due to the tens of thousands of cars and trucks that transit through the three crossings every year. And San Diego, already the second largest city in California, is one of the fastest growing cities in the U.S. Because of its location on the Mexico border, developers in San Diego are seeking ways to expand into Tijuana. Although increased development would benefit many people in Tijuana, if handled unwisely it would adversely effect the city’s poor, which includes thousands of deportees from California who are typically turned over to Mexican authorities in Tijuana, where many have no place else to go and live in dreadful conditions.

California’s and Arizona’s borders with Mexico are nearly completely sealed. New Mexico has many miles of old fencing; it is one of the Trump administration’s chief goals to replace that fencing with better barriers. Sealing the border of Texas with Mexico is also a priority of the Administration. But that project is hugely problematic. The Texas-Mexico border is formed by the winding Rio Grande River, whose often twisting, jagged route not only serves as a natural barrier but also creates problems both for crossers and patrol agents. This long common border has 28 international bridges and border crossings, including two dams and one hand-drawn ferry, for commercial, vehicular, and pedestrian traffic. Also, according to the Texas Department of Transportation, the “Texas and Mexico border crossings are vital to the economies of Texas and Mexico, and have contributed to Mexico’s status as Texas’ #1 trading partner.”

One hundred and fifteen miles of the Texas border with Mexico are fenced (e.g., tall steel slating), the longest stretch near El Paso. Business Insider reports that a “host of laws and regulations – from international treaties to flood-zone requirements – make wall-construction along the Texas-Mexico border a daunting task.” When fencing does get constructed, it usually ends up being placed far inland, cutting across private property. “And Texas landowners haven’t taken too kindly in the past to government officials attempting to co-opt their land.”

Amid all this are the immigrants themselves. Although they live in today’s world, they are part of the perennial human problem of “the stranger,” and they are at the mercy of how both the U.S. and Mexico authorities treat them.

MOSES THE STRANGER
Let’s remind ourselves that the United States is not the only country that has been embattled over seemingly unresolvable differences of political opinion and prolonged legal wranglings over the status of immigrants, refugees, and asylum seekers. Millions of refugees fleeing the war in Syria to nearby countries and to European nations is a recent case in point. Previously, the war in Iraq saw millions of Iraqis displaced from their homes. Just over forty years ago, huge numbers of the so-called Vietnamese boat people were arriving by boats and ships on the shores of many countries, including the United States. Seventy-five years ago, Jews were fleeing Nazi Germany. And so it has been throughout history.

The challenges that countries face from immigrants date back even to biblical times, to what the Bible calls the treatment of “the alien,” “the foreigner,” “the stranger.” The well-known story of Moses offers insight into the perennial challenges. In brief: the Hebrew people (aka the ancient Israelites) lived for hundreds of years as resident aliens in Egypt. Under Egyptian immigration policy they fared well and “were fruitful and multiplied greatly and became exceedingly numerous” (Exodus 1:7). But when a new leader of Egypt perceived this large population of resident aliens as a national security threat, he changed the policy toward them. He turned the Hebrews into slaves and forced them to live and work in the harshest of conditions.

Enter Moses, raised from infancy in Egypt and specially educated from childhood in Pharaoh’s royal court. It was an unusual upbringing because Moses was not an Egyptian. He was a Hebrew. Yet he was groomed as an Egyptian prince and led a privileged life among the Egyptian elite. At age forty, however, after killing an Egyptian and burying the body, Moses fled from Egypt to escape the death penalty. He ended up hundreds of miles away in the land of Midian, in the northwest Arabian desert somewhere, and worked as a shepherd for forty years.

What is not well known is that in Midian Moses was given the status of a gēr (“alien” or”stranger”) and was taken in by a gracious Midianite priest and his family. Moses married one of the priest’s daughters, who gave birth to a son, to whom Moses gave the name Gērshom (“stranger in a strange land”).

When Moses turned eighty, he was called by God to return to Egypt to free the Israelites from slavery. As God’s appointed leader of a million-plus refugees out of Egypt, the Bible records that Moses received a set of commands from God for the social legislation of this large unwieldy population. One of those commands, which stands out by virtue of its repetition in a number of contexts, applied to how the Israelites were to treat the strangers (aliens, foreigners) in their midst.

“Do not ill-treat a stranger or oppress him, for you were strangers in Egypt” (Exodus 22:21). “Do not oppress a stranger; you yourselves know how it feels to be a stranger, because you were strangers in Egypt” (Exodus 23:9).

This was a significant law because it was not only Israelites who had fled from Egypt. Many non-Israelites had left Egypt with the Israelites and had become refugees themselves. God, apparently, had no qualms about that. If there had been a question among the Israelites about how to treat non-Israelites in their midst, it was no longer a question. They had God’s view on the matter.

Some rabbis have discovered as many as four dozen places in the Torah where the alien/foreigner/stranger is mentioned, including in the context of the treatment of widows, orphans, and the poor. And more than once the Torah specifies:

“You shall have the same law for the strangers as for the native-born” (Exodus 22:49; Leviticus 24:22; Numbers 15:16, 29).

As Rabbi Sacks reminds us, “Not only must the stranger not be wronged; he or she must be included in the positive welfare of Israelite / Jewish society.” But even more remarkably, the “law goes beyond this; the stranger must be loved”:

“When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not mistreat them. The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in Egypt. I am the Lord your God” (Leviticus 19:33-34).

This divine law, echoed in Deuteronomy 10:19, signifies the high value of life that God places on the human beings that today we call immigrants, refugees, foreigners, aliens, and asylum seekers. It is a law focused on the treatment of strangers. It is a law to which the people will be held accountable. It is a law implied when Jesus, the archetypal alien in the world, says, “I was a stranger and you took me in” (Matthew 25:35). It is a law that fits hand-in-glove to another of the Torah’s repeated commands: the exercise of impartial justice, which, incidentally, Jesus took to soaring heights, blowing some minds, in his parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10). Ultimately, it is a law that finds its root in the truth of Genesis chapter one, where we see that human beings, male an female, created in the image of God, are called good, and very good. That is the value God placed on human beings.

ARTICLE 14(1)
Down through history, nations have granted protection, if not possibilities for citizenship, to individuals, families, and groups fleeing persecution, slavery, and threats of death, even if these nations do not acknowledge its basis in divine law. Today, one finds this protection appearing in Article 14(1) of the UN’s Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR). The UDHR is a milestone document that owes much of its emergence to a biblical influence.

Article 14(1) does not define what kind of protection policies nations must implement. It leaves each nation to its own jurisprudence for determining that. The same was true for ancient Israel. Its commands regarding treatment of strangers was a kind of general social-legislative principle to which the people would be held accountable (by God). But the commands were not themselves policy. As is frequently the case in the Torah, once a general principle has been revealed it is then up to the monarch, the courts, or the political system to hammer out a policy consistent with the principle.

CITIES OF REFUGE
A compelling example of ancient Israelite policy grounded in the above concert of laws appears in the appointment of six cities as “cities of refuge,” as they are called in the biblical text. After the people were no longer wandering refugees in the Arabian desert but settled in a new land, they turned six of the already-existing cities of that land into sanctuary cities. The chief reason for doing so was to provide legal asylum for anyone to flee to who had killed another person. As safe havens, the cities of refuge limited and controlled injustices, for they gave the accused a place to stand trial, where it would be determined if the killing was accidental or intentional. And these cities were spread out in key locations throughout the land, so no one involved in a court case would have to travel too far.

The legal proceedings for determining guilt or innocence are spelled out in Numbers 35 and Joshua 20 but do not concern us here. What needs underlining, however, is that the six cities were places of physical and legal refuge not just for Israelites but for “aliens and any other people living among them” (Numbers 35:15; Joshua 20:9).

Also, these cities were overtly religious cities, in that all six had to be Levitical cities, that is, cities of the priests, the Levites. In other words, these places of asylum were an integral part of ancient Israel’s religious life. This was significant. For it was not just to the king, or to the courts, or to the elders but also to the priests that the people looked for rulings of justice.

With the law of asylum in place across the country in six of the (forty-eight) Levitical cities, the accused (who may be an alien, and innocent), when received into a sanctuary city, knew that he awaited trial under the protection of divine mercy and grace. Whenever the accuser (aka the “avenger of blood”) had tracked down the accused to a city of refuge, the accuser was forbidden by divine law from taking the life of the accused, and a trial would determine the latter’s legal status.

U.S. SANCTUARY CITIES & THE CONSTITUTION
Here, then, in the ancient Middle East we see an example of a nation-wide policy in a criminal justice system that is based on the high value of life that God has placed on immigrants, refugees, foreigners, and asylum seekers even if they have been accused of committing a capital offense. The United States, of course, has no official religion. Constitutionally, it is not a religious polity. It is not possible for Congress to replicate ancient Israel’s religious cities of refuge in the country but, as the apostle Paul recommends, we can learn from ancient Israel’s history (1 Corinthians 10:1).

In the difficult context of America’s broken immigration system, controversy has swirled around so-called sanctuary cities in recent years, particularly after President Trump signed an executive order in January 2017 to withhold federal funding from jurisdictions that limited cooperation with U.S. immigration authorities. Many of these jurisdictions include sanctuary cities – an imprecise term used for cities across the U.S. that are viewed as lenient toward non-criminal undocumented immigrants.

I am not an immigration professional, but here are some discoveries I made about this area of jurisprudence. Although the Trump administration implied that the President’s executive order was issued because sanctuary cities or counties don’t cooperate with U.S. immigration authorities, that is a misnomer. From what I can tell, a sanctuary jurisdiction is probably not working outside federal law. It tries to work within federal immigration law to limit its cooperation with federal immigration enforcement agents in order to protect low-priority immigrants from deportation. But it will turn over to relevant authorities those who have committed crimes. For instance, being undocumented is not a crime; it is a civil violation, which can be handled by local jurisdictions (2012 U.S. Supreme Court decision, Arizona v. U.S. ).

Also, undocumented immigrants have the right of due process under the U.S. Constitution. The due process clauses of the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments, which concern the administration of justice, act as safeguards from arbitrary denial of life, liberty, or property by the government outside the sanction of law. For example, police cannot detain anyone who hasn’t at least been suspected of a crime. Meaning: to hold a non-criminal undocumented immigrant past the point when he or she should be released just so that ICE can pick the person up is unconstitutional. (ICE: Immigration and Customs Enforcement, a law enforcement agency of the federal government.)

In a sanctuary city, local police will most likely release an arrested immigrant after he has been cleared of charges, posted bail, or completed jail time for whatever he was arrested for. A non-sanctuary city might hold that same person until ICE can come to pick him up – even though that extra holding is not constitutional.

A piece of legislation from Congress, or a dictate from the Attorney General, or an executive order from the President that seeks to penalize sanctuary cities because they refuse to hold non-criminal undocumented immigrants for ICE pickup has marked the wrong target. For it is the cities that hold non-criminal undocumented immigrants for ICE pickup who are acting unconstitutionally. I would argue that sanctuary cities, in following the Constitution, are also practicing their own version (consciously or not) of the general law of Leviticus 19:33: not mistreating a foreigner who resides among them but treating them as native-born.

Further, when non-criminal undocumented immigrants know that they won’t be treated outside the law, it’s an incentive for them to cooperate with local law enforcement authorities when they need to. This kind of cooperation has been long understood and needed by police departments, sheriff departments, and other law enforcement agencies in sanctuary jurisdictions, which is why they pushed back against President Trump’s combative stance against their (legal) handling of non-criminal undocumented immigrants. Police chiefs in Los Angeles, Denver, Tucson, and other cities have made strong cases that their communities have been made safer and better because non-criminal immigrants know that when they come forward, for instance, to report a crime or to act as a witness, they will not be turned over to ICE.

SANCTUARY CHURCHES
Besides cities of refuge, houses of worship in ancient Israel protected people under threat of death. Across the United States today, sanctuary churches perform a Good Samaritan role for non-criminal undocumented immigrants who get stuck in the most desperate straits. Daily care for these “church families,” which includes food and finances, is multi-faceted and provided by members of the congregation and networks of pro bono lawyers, advocacy support groups, concerned individuals in the wider community, and even sympathetic synagogues and mosques.

Although the total number of persons in the U.S. who have sought protection from deportation inside churches remains relatively small, they have good and sufficient reasons for wanting to remain in the U.S. Many have worked and raised families here for years, if not decades. As with other aspects of our broken immigration system, this one is also complex and not easily resolved. Here’s a typical scenario: undocumented immigrant parents seeking legal status but unable to obtain it yet and facing imminent deportation. But their children were born in the U.S. and are therefore U.S. citizens (Fourteenth Amendment) and cannot be deported. The parents quite naturally and reasonably don’t want to be separated from their children, so they enter the safety of a sanctuary church in order to pursue their options and continue to plead their case with relevant authorities. Another scenario would be that of an undocumented parent with a child who is gravely ill.

These families are not trying to hide from ICE or USCIS (United States Citizenship and Immigration Services, the agency that handles citizenship eligibility for immigrants, work permits, green cards, adoption requests, humanitarian services, and much more.) The families notify USCIS and ICE of their new address. There is no law that prevents ICE from entering a church, mosque, or synagogue to detain an undocumented immigrant, but ICE has typically refrained from doing that, for any number of reasons. The agency will, however, enter to make arrests if it concerns terrorism or public safety.

Reports are surfacing, however, of a trend developing in which ICE may not be so accommodating to sanctuary churches as it was during the previous administration. Perhaps Congress could pass a temporary law that would ensure undocumented immigrants safety from arrest in a sanctuary church while USCIS and the courts are sorting out the family’s status.

COURT SYSTEMS & THE SIXTH AMENDMENT
Court systems in the U.S. are also significant in how undocumented strangers are treated. Because ancient Israel’s cities of refuge were deliberately located in strategic areas throughout the land, no one involved in a case would be burdened with traveling a long distance for the trial. The accused would find asylum quickly and the accuser and any witnesses would most likely be nearby. The parties would have recourse to a speedy trial and a case could be adjudicated quickly.

Although the Sixth Amendment of the Constitution guarantees the right to a speedy trial, adjudication of immigration cases in the U.S. has slowed to a crawl. Near the end of 2018, there were approximately 400 immigration judges in 58 courts across the country. This was up from approximately 300 at the end of 2016. But the system remains overwhelmed. According to Executive Office for Immigration Review of the Department of Justice, as of August, 2018, there were more than 730,000 pending immigration cases, which means that the average immigration judge would have a backlog of 1800+ cases. It is not unusual for average wait times for cases to be fully heard to stretch to two to three years.

Even if it cost as much as $100 million, or even $200 million, to add or reassign judges or other necessary personnel in order to lessen the backlog of immigration cases, including the reuniting of children with their parents, that is only two percent or four percent (respectively) of the $5.7 billion that President Trumped sought from Congress in January 2019. I suppose some ungenerous soul would say, “Let ‘em wait three years. No big deal.” Well, put yourself in their shoes. It’s a big deal to the families who are stuck in the queue. How would you want to be treated? Processing them through the system in a fairer amount of time would be more humane than keeping them on pins and needles about their final status for years.

DACA
Another part of the immigration big picture is the DACA program (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals). Launched in 2012, DACA allowed young people who came to the U.S. as children to be “lawfully present” without threat of being deported and to apply for a driver’s license and a work permit. When the program was rescinded in September 2018, federal courts kept most of the DACA recipients (700,000+ young people) from deportation pending a permanent legislative solution.

DACA is not a free-for-all. Immigrants who apply must have arrived in the U.S. before their sixteenth birthday and have lived in the U.S. continuously since June 15, 2007. They are required to be in school, or a high school graduate or hold a GED, or an honorably discharged veteran of the U.S. Armed Forces or the Coast Guard. They are ineligible if they have been convicted of a felony or various other crimes, and if they are deemed a national security threat. There is also a $495 application fee. DACA does not grant permanent resident status or a path to citizenship. (Much more straightforward information about DACA can be found here, which is where I found most of this information.)

EDUCATION
Education is another part of the picture. The education of undocumented immigrant children in K-12 public schools is guaranteed by law (Plyler vs. Doe; U.S. Supreme Court decision, 1982). Also, except in instances of a subpoena being served, federal law (the Family Education Rights and Privacy Act) prohibits public schools from providing any outside agency, including ICE, with information from a child’s school file that would disclose the student’s undocumented status.

Educating undocumented immigrants benefits our country. The sooner the immigration status of undocumented students is resolved, including the status of those stuck waiting in DACA limbo, the sooner those who can stay in the country are free to dream about how they will become long-term contributors to American society.

“BUILD A WALL”: A MISLEADING SOUND BITE
In March 2017, during an address to Congress, President Trump stated that “we will soon begin the construction of a great wall along our southern border.” No surprise there. “Building a wall” had been a hallmark of candidate Trump’s campaign for President. In January 2018, he began negotiations with Congress for $25 billion to build it. After that appropriation for funding failed, chiefly due to months of wrangling between the White House and Congress over the status of 700,000 DACA immigrants, the President in January 2019 asked Congress for $5.7 billion to build it. When those funds were withheld, the President promptly declared a formal national emergency to find funding for the wall. Resistance to Trump’s wall also comes from many in Congress who have said that open borders are best.

As I write this, it is far from evident what will be the outcome of the lawsuit filed in February by sixteen states to prevent the President from using that declared national emergency to access funds to build the wall. Meantime, on March 11, it was announced that the President wants $8.6 billion from Congress for “the wall,” as part of his proposed $4.7 trillion 2020 budget.

Since the presidential campaign of 2015, however, the sound bite “to build a wall” – repeated endlessly in the news media, blogosphere, social media, and on talk radio – has been a misnomer, if not misleading. Personally, and I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I never paid much attention to happenings along our southern border until the 2015 campaign. My excuse is that my work on foreign policy and diplomacy focused on U.S. – Middle East relations; migrants coming into the U.S. from Mexico and Central America were not part of that geography.

When I heard Donald Trump’s frequent take on “building a wall,” and with that sound bite becoming ubiquitous in the media, I got the impression that there was no wall. So I was surprised when, after doing a little research, I learned that a total of approximately 650 miles of wall already existed. I felt misled by candidate Trump’s repeated refrain about building a wall. It would have been more honest, I thought, if he had talked about repairing existing barriers and building additional sections.

Vertical barriers (various kinds of fencing) began to be built in 1994 during the Bill Clinton administration. Twelve years later, during the George W. Bush administration, Congress passed the Secure Fence Act of 2006, which authorized construction of 700 miles of fencing along the southern border. President Bush announced that the Act would make the border more secure and that it was “an important step toward immigration reform.” Twenty-six Democratic senators, including notables such as Hillary Clinton, Joe Biden, Chuck Schumer, Diane Feinstein, and Christopher Dodd voted for the Act. As did the then Senator Barack Obama, who said on the Senate flood that the bill “will certainly do some good.” It will provide “better fences and better security along our borders” and “help stem some of the tide of illegal immigration in this country.”

If Congress had authorized the $5.7 billion the President wanted “to build the wall,” and if he had used the funds strictly for that, the respected Office of Management and Budget estimated the he would have been able to build 230 miles. In February 2019, Congress did approve $1.4 billion to add more vertical barriers, which would finance about 60 more miles. That puts the price at roughly $24 million per mile, not including cost overruns.

The dollar figures, then, are all over the map, as are the locations of the barriers. And the President’s material proposals (concrete or steel) have shifted over time and may shift again. The U.S. government has commissioned numerous prototypes (typically about thirty feet high) for testing and evaluation. So questions about what kind of barriers and their costs remain. In short, Congressional purse strings dictate how many miles of barriers get built. If past history is any indication, even if Donald Trump were elected to a second term it is unlikely his promised wall becomes reality by 2024.

Further, the refrain to “Build the wall! Build the wall!” lends itself to disassociating human beings (immigrants) from their humanness and moving them into the abstract, as if the crucial problems of immigration control were equations of math or physics awaiting to be solved. This subtle but significant shift of perspective has dire consequences on how we think, talk, debate, and propose solutions to a problem in which human beings and their treatment is the fundamental reality of the big picture of immigration control.

ECOLOGY AND WILDLIFE
Harmful consequences to wildlife and biological life have arisen around sections of border wall built during past White House administrations. Along the approximately 650 miles of pedestrian and vehicle barriers of various lengths and compositions that currently exist along the 2,000 mile border, six eco-regions support abundant biological life and wildlife. As more sections go up, studies suggest the negative impact on animal life and natural ecosystems will continue unless the current and future Administrations take steps to reduce that.

Reporting on the adverse effect of the borderland’s fence, steel, and concrete barriers has been largely neglected by the national news media, downplayed by many politicians, and brushed aside by the Department of Homeland Security (DHS – the government agency tasked with building the barriers). But the negative consequences have not been ignored by science.

In 2018, the journal BioScience published a paper signed by more than 2,500 scientists from the U.S., Mexico, and forty-one other countries urging President Trump to think twice about the wall and the infrastructures that will be supporting it. The report documents how previous and current building of barriers bypasses environmental laws, harms wildlife populations, and devalues conservation investment and scientific research. The report concludes with practical advice for moving ahead more wisely.

The paper is not limp on national security, nor does is call for abandoning barriers. It does, however, argue for “forgoing physical barriers in places with high ecological sensitivity, such as cross-border corridors [for animal populations] or critical habitats for endangered species.” The scientists also call for Congress, the DHS, the EPA, the Mexican government, and relevant others to “recognize and give high priority to conserving the ecological, economic, political, and cultural value of the US-Mexico borderlands. National security can and must be pursued with an approach that preserves our natural heritage.”

One of the wildest areas of Texas is a particular case in point. Big Bend National Park lies in the jagged U-bend in the middle of the Texas-Mexico border. Covering more than 800,000 acres, it holds some of the most treasured conservation areas on the continent. The massive 1,125 square mile park protects 1,200 species of plants, 450 species of birds, 56 species of reptiles, and 75 species of mammals. Its archeological history dates back 10,000 years and includes sea fossils, dinosaur bones, and volcanic rocks. Business Insider reports that the park, which has no manmade barriers, “is home to several highly precarious ecosystems that have undergone intense conservation efforts in recent years…. [And] river, mountain, and desert ecosystems … sustain fragile populations of black bears and other large mammals, which are slowly recovering from an over-hunting epidemic that began back in the 1950s.”

(Numerous credible reports and articles can be found on the Web documenting why barriers can have negative impacts on the borderland’s animal life and biodiversity. To comment further on this here would take us too far afield. Here is an article that I found illuminating.)

CHOKE POINTS
Besides the other exigencies about building the wall that are being introduced in this article, “choke points” is another. A choke point (so-called: the strategy comes from the military) narrows down the distance that you or your group must pass through to reach a destination. Consider the 370-mile long Arizona-Mexico border for instance. Sans any kind of barrier, border guards, or surveillance anyone could cross that border whenever he or she wished.

But if you don’t want anyone to be that free, you could build a tall solid 370-mile long wall, and then no one could walk or drive across the border. That wall would of course play havoc with vital concerns such as tourism, commerce, and the ecology. It would also impose travel restrictions on family members and others who are living in, say, Phoenix or Tucson who needed to go by car to, say, Nogales, Mexico, just the other side of the Arizona state line. They would need to make long detours. A long detour would also be necessary for folk in Nogales, Mexico who had to get next-door to its “twin” city, Nogales, Arizona.

Knowing all this, you still have good and sufficient reasons to manage the flow of people across the border. So instead of building one long wall, you build sections of wall to funnel would-be crossers to choke points, which in theory would control the flow of people by forcing them to a check point where their identity and other relevant information can be discovered.

Arizona’s total of nine vehicle and pedestrian crossings act in principle as choke, or check, points. There are a total of forty other legal points of entry in California, Nevada, and Texas. For every new one that is added along the 2,000 mile border comes construction costs as well as ongoing costs for additional personnel and equipment and its maintenance, 24/7/365.

ELECTRONIC SURVEILLANCE
Federal and state governments have long recognized that physical barriers alone are not sufficient along the southern border. Underground sensors, infrared cameras, radar blimps, unmanned drones, tethered aerostats, laser illuminators, microwave transmitters, sensor towers, and other high tech surveillance tools have been deployed to help border patrol agents and law enforcement officials monitor illegal crossings and locate drug smugglers – all of which must be manned and maintained at a cost of billions of dollars each year.

And new tools continue to emerge. It was recently reported in the news that a new mobile video surveillance system is being deployed. Mounted on trucks that roam the roads and open areas, it can look into the mountains with infrared scopes from several miles distance in the day and at night to help locate smugglers.

It seems unlikely, however, that electronic surveillance will ever render the need for some physical barriers obsolete. One costly experiment seems to bear this out. Begun in 2006 under the George W. Bush administration and run by Boeing Co., the $1 billion SBInet program was meant to link and integrate existing video cameras, radar, and sensors along the highly traveled southwest border in order to provide U.S. patrol agencies quicker response times to locate and arrest illegal crossers.

By 2010, that “virtual fence” program had become untenable due to cost overruns, missed deadlines, accumulating red tape, and other setbacks. It was cancelled in 2011 by President Obama and replaced by a strategy “tailored to the unique needs of each border region.” This strategy would deploy “commercially available surveillance systems, unmanned aerial drones, thermal imaging, and other equipment” to provide “faster deployment of technology, better coverage, and a more effective balance between cost and effectivity” (Janet Napolitano, Homeland Security Secretary, 2011). (In 2010, President Obama authorized $600 million to pay for two more unmanned drones and 1,500 new customs inspectors, patrol agents, and law enforce officials along the border.

THE FUTURE?
Drama surrounding “the wall” from the political right and conservative media creates the impression that every immigrant at the southern border is an enemy. Drama surrounding “the wall” from the political left and liberal media creates the impression that anyone and everyone may immigrate. Both views serve the absolutized ideological politics behind each drama and ill-serve the strangers arriving at our southern border. Some are even dying in our deserts.

While working on this article I spoke by phone with Steve Johnstone, who has worked with No More Deaths (NMD), an advocacy group in southern Arizona founded by Catholic, Presbyterian, and Jewish leaders. NMD maintains a year-round humanitarian presence in the deserts of southwestern Arizona, where migrants often get lost and die. NMD volunteers hike the trails and leave water, food, socks, blankets, and if possible they provide emergency first-aid treatment. Earlier this year four of NMD’s volunteer aid workers were arrested while searching for three migrants who were lost in the Cabeza Prieta National Wildlife Refuge. The workers, who were trying to find the migrants and get water and canned food to them, were convicted of misdemeanor charges and fined. Two of the migrants were found.

A large percentage of those rescued are mothers with their children and they often have similar stories. Their husbands were displaced from small farms in Mexico when NAFTA began to benefit U.S. agribusiness in ways that put countless small Mexican farmers out of business and their husbands out of work. In order to feed their families, the men crossed the border seeking farm work in the U.S. while their families remained in Mexico, but the government has made it increasingly difficult for these men to visit their families back in Mexico.

If more walls, tougher policies, and tighter border security did not deter these undocumented wives from trying to enter the U.S., the feds assumed that large hot deserts would. But the government did not consider the grief and determination of these wives and mothers. Out of desperation, many are willing to risk walking up to eighty miles in the Arizona desert in hopes of reuniting their families. An increasing number, however, are dying from dehydration, heatstroke, or hypothermia, having lost their way and run out of food and water.

Johnstone, who has worked with NMD to rescue lost migrants, told me that before the 9/11 security sanctions emerged hardly anyone died in the Arizona desert, but afterward the deaths increased. “Just in the three-county area around Tucson,” he said, “the number of bodies that we know about is around 200, and that is a low estimate. The remains are taken to the medical examiner’s office, declared homeless, and buried without caskets.”

So maybe you thought it was all about the wall. It isn’t. More than 2,500 human remains have been found in the deserts of southern Arizona since 2000, and as a friend recently reminded me, leadership usually begins by defining reality. There are many aspects to immigration control reality, but relentless political focus on “the wall” is diminishing our capacity as responsible Americans to see that the human person is at the heart of the reality.

A deeply Christian culture shows hospitality to strangers. The book of Hebrews, in a subtle dig at one of Sodom’s sins, exhorts us not to neglect showing hospitality to strangers (13:2). And there is this:

“Listen also to the immigrant who isn’t from your people Israel but who comes from a distant country because of your reputation, because they will hear of your great reputation, your great power, and your outstretched arm” (1 Kings 8:41-42).

We also have the words of Jesus himself, the archetypal alien in this world: “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets” (Matthew 7:12).

This article has touched on only a number of aspects of the immigration big picture, but I hope that it has offered enough background to show that problems of immigration control are systemic, that there is no one-size-fits-all solution. I hope that it has helped to bring the reality from the abstract into the human. It will not be easy to repair all that is wrong to everyone’s satisfaction, but we will be greater as a nation when we pull together in that direction.

©2019 by Charles Strohmer

Charles Strohmer is a researcher, freelance writer, and author of eight books.

Images: Washington Post/Carolyn van Houten; John Morre/Ghetty Images; Conde Nast Traaveler; CNN.

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