To the Pastors of the TikTok Generation

 January 19, 2022

By Brea Perry

Preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with great patience and instruction. - 2 Timothy 4:2

By now, you’ve probably encountered the infamous video of Pastor Mike Todd of Transformation Church in Tulsa, OK. No, not that one, the other one. No, no, no, even more recent than that. There you go, THAT one.

I could sit here and break down bar for bar what made Pastor Todd’s sermon illustration so absurd that all of Christian Twitter assembled like the Sanctified Avengers to clown him, but there are people with far more theological eloquence that are better suited for that task.

We could discuss how spiritually abusive it is for a pastor to humiliate a person by smearing his saliva in their face–NOT to heal a blind man of his affliction and expose the ills of a society that treats disabled folks as disposable, as Jesus did–but to illustrate a point that had little to do with the text he was deploying. (Yes, the person with spit all over their face is Mike Todd’s biological brother. No, it doesn’t change anything about what he did. This also is not the first time he’s done this “illustration.”)

We could talk about how this is not the first time that Todd’s pulpit antics have led to widespread criticism or that he has been accused of perpetuating egregious harms from the pulpit.

But I’m not here to talk about him at all really. Mike Todd is but a cog in the well-oiled machine of making excuses for the sake of power. I’m not in the business of zeroing in on individuals when there are entire power structures to rebuke and tear down.

Every few years, older church folks gather to coalition-build and tackle the task of “getting these young folks back in church.” They told the 20-year-olds of the 90s/early 2000s that “gospel music has gone too far” when Kirk Franklin came out with Stomp and Revolution. But eventually, they conceded and added reformed Christian hip-hop to the mix because at least they got ‘em talking about Jesus instead of drugs, right?

More recently, “getting these young folks back in church” has consisted of pandering to 20-year-olds via smoke machines, gigantic billboard screens, and pastors stomping around in Bred 11’s and tailored plaid suits, quoting Tik-Toks, and performing goofy skits to make weak sermon points. 

I’d be lying if I said it never worked. There are folks out there who are more than willing to dedicate 10% of their paycheck every month to make sure their church is equipped with the best purple spotlights and handheld microphones that money can buy.

Sometimes the “cool church” aesthetic becomes smoke and mirrors that distract churchgoers from the decontextualized scripture passages coming from the pulpit. There’s only so much that the best musicians and a charismatic preacher wearing the latest Forces can do for a young person seeking answers to their deep theological wrestlings. There are only so many vapid spiritual platitudes that church leaders can give before we start to see through the ruse.

To the pastors of the TikTok Generation: 

Where do we go when we hunger for a gospel that is undebased by hot takes and corny cliches? 

Who is Jesus when you are not parading him around as the mascot for consumerism? 

Do you have a point to make when you’re not performing for our likes, comments, and shares to prove to your publishers that we’ll buy the book you’re proposing?

What’s left of the good news when misogynistic fear-mongering has started to bore us because we’ve been hearing the same ‘ole tune since we were first made aware of our bodies? Do you have a stronger antidote to a culture that reduces women to the sum of our body parts than deploying the same attitudes in the pulpit and throwing some Holy Ghost shame on it for extra seasoning?

Is there healing available for those who have come to see that what passed as faith for all of their natural life was really spiritual abuse at the hands of narcissistic leaders?

How do we contend with a sacred text that has provided the fuel for every egregious act of violence under the sun, from colonialism to chattel slavery to domestic abuse to upholding structures designed to keep people in poverty?

Is there a good God under all of that somewhere?

Our rejection of the institutional church has led some saints to believe we’ve given up on Jesus. We’re not leaving Jesus. We’re leaving misogyny masquerading as mission, capitalism claiming to be calling, and narcissism naming itself fresh revelation. 

Many of us would happily go back to the hymns and the pews if space to wrestle through the questions that have been cast aside as “off-limits” came with it and the space for spiritual abuse was left out. But we are past the point of sticking around while pastors obey their own whims, slap the name of Jesus on it, and dare us to question their authority to do so.

There has to be more to [church] than clout-chasing and viral sermon clips. 

Source: https://thewitnessbcc.com/to-the-pastors-of-the-tiktok-generation/

After You #Leaveloud, Don't Forget to Rest

April 29, 2021

by Kristina Button

I think that it is very hard to know where or even what our next step is when we #LeaveLOUD. Many of us find ourselves wandering in the wilderness; the space between our previous spiritual community and our next church home. Leaving an unhealthy church and entering into the wilderness gives a sense of freedom, yet, it is also filled with uncertainty. The biggest questions that those of us in the wilderness seem to have are, “We outchea, but where do we go and what do we do? How long do we stay in the wilderness?” I firmly believe that the next step is to rest. 

Black Christians should normalize and prioritize taking a sabbatical after leaving white and multiethnic organizations. A sabbatical is nothing more than a time of rest (the root word of sabbatical is “sabbath,” which means to rest as God did on the seventh day of Creation). You might have heard of a pastor or other spiritual leader taking a sabbatical where they take time to disconnect from the world to hear from God. 

We need a break from the regular microaggressions and tokenization that comes with being in white and multiethnic churches. I used to feel shame if I wasn’t in church every week or at least seeking a place of worship for my family. This toxic line of thinking resulted in my family worshipping in churches that were just as toxic as the ones before. I came to the realization that, in order for me to be whole, I have to prioritize and be aggressive about seeking healing and rest. 

For a long time, I didn’t know how to go about resting; the idea felt daunting. It’s been trial and error along the way, but this past year has taught me how to prioritize healing and rest. 

The racial stereotyping and microaggressions that Black people experience in white and multiethnic churches cause weathering. We carry that trauma with us for the rest of our lives. This is why rest is so important. This is why we need to take a sabbatical after we #LeaveLOUD. 

Seek the Lord, pray, fast, go to therapy, or take a break from church. Go on a vacation. Connect with the outdoors (#BlackPeopleHike). Find a Black mentor. Find other justice-minded believers and build community with them. 

White supremacy got us out here thinking that we are alone in our struggle. Don’t go off alone. Know that you are not alone. Your struggle might not look like everyone else’s struggle, and so your sabbath might not look like everyone else’s sabbath. Once you decide to make your exit, your goal should be to prioritize healing and rest. You deserve rest. You deserve healing. You deserve restoration.

Source: https://thewitnessbcc.com/after-you-leaveloud-dont-forget-to-rest/

Spirituality is a Potent Asset for our Crucial and Radical Transformation

By Rev Edward Buri

Victoria Falls, Zambezi River

     If there is one place that is driven by newness it is the marketplace. Companies are always launching new products and if not new products, they are re-launching old ones. We are bombarded with images of newness all the time on television, newspapers, radio and on the web. Companies do a lot to persuade us that even their old products are somehow new and superior to previous versions.  The more I consume the images of new product launches, the more I ask myself: how much do we invest in renewing our people? How does our community invest in creating women and men of improved character?

     Softie, a film of photojournalists and activist Boniface Mwangi, captures the sad reality where Kenyans expect money from political aspirants as part of the luring process. They describe him as a good man without money. Some sing praises of other competitors who always give them money. Good policies and good heartedness are not forefront qualities in the winning equation. All that bad people need is big money. The money then becomes the sustainer of evil and not a tool for good. How can people unlearn this?

     I recall from my high school Geography class a concept called river rejuvenation. When a river is streaming down the Aberdares, Mount Kenya or the Mau it will usually carry clean water with hardly any dirt. It is young and therefore bubbly as it gallops fast down the mountain. As it flows on, it is joined by other streams – tributaries – making it larger. As it is joined by other rivers, the size slows it down. The increase in the volume of water makes it lazy and the water gets dirtier because of the soil and other debris the river has harvested as it heads into the ocean.

     But this aging river can get a new life. How? If on its path it meets a sudden sharp change in ground level with a lengthy fall the result is a waterfall. The waterfall makes the aging monotonous river a spectacular site. People travel from far not to see the lazy river upstream, but the long, misty waterfall. Because the massive volume of water drops with a mighty force, upon hitting the bottom it automatically gains speed, making the river bubbly and vibrant again. The waterfall makes the old river young again.

     Similar is the hope spirituality brings to a people. God promises renewal to meaningless and messed up lives. But truth be told, newness is often disorienting and even threatening, especially because it uproots you from familiar ground and gives you a new mission. Renewal sometimes is so radical that it even drops your earlier name – you are no longer just Size 8 but Size 8 reborn.

     The story of Size 8 Reborn is very inspiring. From a pit of self-confessed vice to the pulpit of Good News. Reverend Linnet Munyali Muraya of the Mateke fame has been public about her reformation story.  Before her transformation, she thrived as the queen of secular music. She was as secular as secular can get and pushed the limits to unveil thicker layers of the night. But a widely publicized encounter with God made her life take a sharp turn towards the light. Her conversion experience coded in her Mateke song implies an aggressive disengagement with a life of sin, which results in “uhuru” – an experience of freedom. Some may argue that “Mateke” theology, but it is hard to argue about her vivid transformation. God is still radically changing people!

      This is a story you would best read from the Gospel narratives. Some may have wanted to lock her in the life of night. But light has converting power too! Some may have wanted a lukewarm transformation where she can play hot or cold. But light is radical too! Her transformation is a sharp critique of vice-driven lives. Many will be following her priestly career in search of slip ups. But let us give her a chance.

     Rev Linnet Muraya is a loud exhibit of the potency of the church and spirituality. This experience of radical transformation needs to be expanded beyond personal transformation and find application in the larger cultural reforms of the community. This potency is universally applicable even in the realm of politics where both politicians and citizens need a thorough transformation. Prodigal politicians need to come to their senses and embrace a  form of politics in which deception is unnecessary. Citizens too need a radical perspective where principle-based voting paralyses voter bribery. Some may preach that such radical transformation is not possible, hoping to clip radical ambitions. But a good look at divine interventions affirms the validity of dreaming the impossible dream. If only the church and its priests could find a consistent way of involving the power in the truth that “nothing is impossible with God!”

      Walking around our neighborhood recently, I passed by a construction site where a building was being pulled down to make way for a new construction. Heavy machinery was tearing the old house down and what caught my eye was a sign at the construction gate that said, “demolition for progress.” Sometimes soft adjustments will not move us – only radical changes will shift us. Where it takes radical only radical will do. There are times change comes by giving a house anew color. But sometimes it comes by demolishing it and building up a whole new structure. Let us not paint what are meant to demolish.

Source: https://www.standardmedia.co.ke/opinion/article/2001432209/spirituality-is-a-potent-asset-for-our-crucial-and-radical-transformation