No Conviction

In a world where following Christ is decreed to be a subversive and illegal activity you have been accused of being a believer, arrested, and dragged before a court.
You have been under clandestine surveillance for some time now, and so the prosecution has been able to build up quite a case against you. They begin the trial by offering the judge dozens of photographs that show you attending church meetings, speaking at religious events, and participating in various prayer and worship services. After this, they present a selection of items that have been confiscated from your home: religious books that you own, worship CDs, and other Christian artifacts. Then they step up the pace by displaying many of the poems, pieces of prose, and journal entries that you had lovingly written concerning your faith. Finally, in closing, the prosecution offers your Bible to the judge. This is a well-worn book with scribbles, notes, drawings, and underlinings throughout, evidence, if it were needed, that you had read and reread this sacred text many times.
Throughout the case you have been sitting silently in fear and trembling. You know deep in your heart that with the large body of evidence that has been amassed by the prosecution you face the possibility of a long imprisonment or even execution. At various times throughout the proceedings you have lost all confidence and have ben on the verge of standing up and denying Christ. But while this thought has plagued your mind throughout the trial, you resist the temptation and remain focused.
Once the Prosecution has finished presenting their case the judge proceeds to ask if you have anything to add, but you remain silent and resolute, terrified that if you open your mouth, even for a moment, you might deny the charges made against you. Like Christ, you remain silent before your accusers. In response you are led outside to wait as the judge ponders your case.
The hours pass slowly as you sit under guard in the foyer waiting to be summoned back. Eventually a young man in uniform appears and leads you into the courtroom so that you may hear the verdict and receive word of your punishment. Once you have been seated in the dock that judge, a harsh and unyielding man, enters the room, stands befor you, looks deep into your eyes and begins to speak.
"Of the charges that have been brought forward I find the accused not guilty."
"Not guilty?" your heart freezes. Then in a split second, the fear and terror that had moments before threatened to strip your resolve are swallowed up by confusion and rage.
Despite the surroundings, you stand defiantly before the judge and demand that he give an account concerning why you are innocent of the charges in light of the evidence.
"What evidence? he replies in shock.
"What about the poems and prose that I wrote?" you reply.
"They simply show that you think of yourself as a poet, nothing more."
"But what about hte services I spoke at, the times I wept in church and the long, sleepless nights of prayer?"
"Evidence that you are a good speaker and actor, nothing more," replied the judge. "It is obvious that you deluded those around you, and perhaps at times you even deluded yourself, but this foolishness is not enough to convict you in a court of law."
"But this is madness!" you shout. "It would seem that no evidence would convince you!"
"Not so," replies that judge as if informing you of a great, long-forgotten secret.
"The court is indifferent toward your Bible reading and church attendance; it has no concern for worship with words and a pen. Continue to develop your theology, and use it to paint pictures of love. We have no interest in such armchair artists who spend their time creating images of a better world. We exist only for those who would lay down that brush, and their life, in a Christlike endeavor to create a better world. So, until you live as Christ and his followers did, until you challenge this system and become a thorn in our side, until you die to yourself and offer your body to the flames, until then, my friend, you are no enemy of ours."

Intro to Lent

Today is Ash Wednesday. If you're not from a liturgical background, it's the day after Mardi Gras ends. Within the Judeo-Christian faiths there is a long tradition of marking time with certain rhythms. For example, the Sabbath, work six days, rest one. It's supposed to remind us that we are human beings whose worth comes from being created and loved by God. It is to help us rest, heal from the stress of the week, reconnect with God, and prepare us for the week ahead. It reminds us that our worth does not come from what we produce, that we are human beings, not human doings. So, there are all these rhythms: marking the day by prayers (morning, afternoon, evening), marking the week (sabbath), and marking the year (the feasts found in the first books of the bible, or the liturgical year for many denominations).
The liturgical calendar takes through a full experience of life as well as the ministry of Jesus. Often we are tempted to sit with just the parts of the bible we like most or acknowledge one dimension of the Christian experience. If we are celebratory, we tend to like Christmas and Easter, but neglect experiencing what takes place during Advent or Lent. Lent is introspective, we wrestle with the things that lie within us that we ignore most of the time, the places where we have room to grow. During this time we remember Moses' 40 days on Mount Sinai receiving the Torah (first five books of the Bible) and we remember Jesus' 40 days in the wilderness and his temptation that takes place there. Many give up something for lent. Some will fast not eating anything during this time. Others will fast smaller things such as soft drinks or sweets, televisions or cell phones, anything that seems to have too much power over you. It is an attempt to in some small way identify with Christ, to seek to connect with God in a deeper way, and to work on yourself.
I have recently finished a book by Peter Rollins called the Orthodox Heretic and Other Impossible Tales. It is a collection of 33 parables written by Rollins. Each parable is followed by a commentary. The stories are broken into three sets of eleven. The first set is called Beyond Belief, the second is called G-O-D-I-S-N-O-W-H-E-R-E, and the third is called Transfigurations. I have thoroughly enjoyed the book and would highly recommend it. My intent is to post one parable a week during lent, I may at times post commentary either by Rollins or my own reflections. Most of the time I will probably let the story speak for itself that they might read you as much as you read them. May they push and stretch, challenge, provoke, and inspire you as much as they have me.

My Decision

Here is the letter I sent to the Board of Ordained Ministry:

I embarked upon the candidacy process believing that I was to live out that call as an ordained elder. As I have gone through the process of candidacy, seminary, then probationary/residency I have learned and grown in ways I would have never imagined. I now understand faith and life as well as myself differently than I did when I began. My theology has moved from one of “conversion evangelism” to one of “restorative loving acts,” of trying to live in such a way that we live out the portions of the Lord’s Prayer where we ask that God’s Kingdom come and will be done on Earth as in Heaven. With my theological shift a shift has also come in my understanding of my calling. As I approached elder ordination I began to wonder if I were on the wrong track, if I should actually move to the Deacon process. But, I wasn’t sure if that was indeed what I was to be doing. Therefore, I asked for a leave of absence. I needed some time to work through some issues of grief over my father’s death, something that had been difficult for me to do while pastoring churches, and I needed some time to discern my particular call to ministry. I have found that both of these processes are slow journeys that take place over a lifetime. At the same time both journeys have markers, moments wherein there has sufficient movement to move forward with confidence.

Over the past year I have been working through the process previously outlined. I have been meeting with Sheri Fergueson, working with my leave discernment peer group, and engaging in prayerful discernment personally. At this point there is a general consensus that I have made great headway in both processes. I have been called to ministry. But, my calling appears to exist outside the bounds of the Deacon or Elder categories. It appears to be a pastoral position that also has rhythms of missional service intertwined. It appears to be some sort of mixture of the two. Therefore question becomes, what kind of ministry does my calling fit, and in what kind of setting can that calling be lived out? Since my calling does not appear to lend itself exclusively toward the ordination of a Deacon or an Elder, at this time I will be withdrawing from the process. My hope is that this will enable me to continue to find further clarity in pursuing my calling, finding the right settings in which I can live it out. Once I have found sufficient clarity, should there be settings in which my call can faithfully be lived out, and if you would permit, I would hope to return to the ordination process with the clarity and confidence necessary to faithfully live out such a divine privilege.

Thank you for the growth I have experienced in this process and your continued patience with me as I attempt to understand the invitation God has upon my life.

Grace and Peace,


Jonathan Herston

Advent - When God is not with us.

Elizabeth was barren. At least somewhat wealthy, respected, and mature, Elizabeth had most of the things for which we tend to strive. But, she was missing the one thing that mattered most to her. She was unable to have a child, and everyone knew it. You have to imagine that she sat and wondered why. I haven't done anything wrong, why is God doing this or why did/does God allow this to happen? Why me? Why can't I have a child? Is there any meaning in this? Why is God so absent in this one place in my life?

Advent is the time where we prepare for the presence of God among us.

Most of the year we put forth the effort to see that God is with us everywhere, all the time, trying to see God in every moment no matter what may be going on. Advent is interesting because if it is a time where we are preparing for God to enter our world, then that means that it is the one time where we intentionally don't recognize God's presence here and now. In some ways Advent is where we experience God's absence. It's the one place where God isn't because God hasn't entered yet, we're preparing for that.

But the simple fact of the matter is that this absence is what we struggle with all year long. In the loss of a job, lack of direction, horrible breakup, tragic events, and terrifying diagnosis we sit and wonder, "Where is God in this?" At Advent we get the opportunity to be honest, to leave the toxic habit of trying to pretend we have a faith we don't have, and to recognize that there are places in our lives where God doesn't seem to be at work.

But, we also get the opportunity to hope.

Liz's husband was a priest. Zacheriah's rotation finally came and he got his once in a lifetime opportunity to serve in the temple, to go in and burn incense. An angel appears to Zach, tells him he is going to have a son, and when he emerges he is unable to speak. Everyone begins to wonder what is going on. Then, Liz becomes pregnant and has a baby boy. At the naming "ceremony," if that's what you would call it (there's a little procedure invovled), Zach suddenly becomes able to speak and everyone wonders what is going to become of this child?

Advent is the time where we prepare for God's presence among us, especially in those places where God seems most absent. Usually we spend the Advent season hanging lights, eating foods, rushing here and there, shopping for a bunch of stuff to give a bunch of people because we're supposed to. And if you hear a message during that season it's about Jesus being the real meaning of the season and how we can miss God during this time if we go too fast. But, if this is Advent, if we're preparing for God to be among us, then that means God's not with us here and now.

So maybe we have it all right even when we have it all wrong.

Maybe part of the point is to miss God here and now, to realize what it is like when you are spreading yourself too thin, when you are accruing debt up to your eyeballs, when you're not living into the ways of God. Maybe part of what we should do during this time is expose ourselves to the suffering of the world and to see what it is like when God is not among us because we're not allowing Him to be in some way, shape, or form personally or globally. Maybe the point is to sit in the places where God is absent and to recognize that God is preparing to come among us in those places where He seems to be the most absent, which should fill us with great hope. Maybe instead of Christmas marking the end of a celebratory season, maybe it should be just the beginning, because at Christmas God is with us, God is among us. Maybe Christmas should be where the party begins. If we were to do that, to celebrate the light that has come into the world after wandering in darkness, what we might just find is that God had been with us all along, especially in the places He has seemed most absent. Maybe it's only when we've experienced God's absence that we can appreciate God's presence among us. And maybe, just maybe in this time where we miss the reason for the season we will realize that there is a better way to live and live into that until the next Advent comes around. Perhaps that's why in the liturgical year Advent marks the beginning, because God is always moving us from darkness to light. God is always moving us forward. So we begin with God's absence and move to God's presence.

And we celebrate.

In the scriptures, intermingled with this story line of Zach and Liz, is another story of a young girl who also sees and angel that tells her that she too is going to give birth to a son. She responds that there is a certain type of interaction that has to take place for that to happen, to which the angel says, not this time. Then the angel does something interesting, he tells her that a sign that this is going to take place is that her cousin Elizabeth who was barren is having a child. If Elizabeth had not been barren, this would not really be a sign. So in the place where God seemed most absent God was actually most present. Her pain had a point, there was meaning in her tragedy.

It was all a part of something bigger than she had ever imagined.

So, may you miss the reason for the season, and honestly examine all the places where God appears to be absent. May you have a great hope that God is about to be birthed into those places. May you have a Merry Christmas, experiencing God like never before. May you see that somehow God was present even where he seemed most absent. May you pain take on meaning, and may you realize that you are a part of something much bigger than you ever imagined.

And that morning may the party begin.

The Depths

I recently went to a training event. To be honest I was kind of dreading it. A strange place with no friends, and sessions that began at 8:00 and went to 5:00. I expected too much information, dryly presented, and coming back to the room afterwards exhausted and lonely. What I found was exactly the opposite. The presentations engaging, the dynamics such that I made friends. By the end of each day I was energized and would go out with new friends to share conversation and meals. But, the most surprising and impactful thing were the presenters. They were so committed to what they were doing. For them it was a calling that they had sacrificed for. They continued to improve as opposed to moving on to something else. They continued to care and work out of a place in the deepest depths of their being. What I found was that they had something I was missing.

I want that. I want to live out of that place, to have that fire in the belly. To live and move and have my being out of the deepest depths of who I am. I think most of us would like that, and yet I think most of us fail to do so. As I’ve sat with these thoughts many things have flashed through my mind. The first being, I wonder if there is that kind of depth to me. Most of what I live out of is so shallow and superficial, and I never even noticed it until I saw what I was missing in someone else. And, I don’t know how to manufacture it. You don’t just create a true depths of the being calling. You can’t suddenly add depths of layers to who you are. Then I began to realize that the deep penetrating things within me are the things I spend the most time trying to avoid. Or, I try to indirectly chip away at them through the shallow things. But, if you can keep it shallow enough, then you’re never really vulnerable. But, you also never truly live out of that place because you’re out of touch with it. I began to wonder why that is. I mean, I know part of it is that in going to the depths of your being is uncomfortable, you have to step into your deepest pains, your deepest disappointments, and your deepest fears.

The problem is, I don’t think we know how to do that. We live in a culture inundated by the superficial. We’re bombarded by advertisements and constantly told to solve deep problems with quick fixes - food, clothing, shopping, stuff, self-help, television, movies, entertainment, etc. And by and large the church doesn’t help. We’re so concerned about crappy things that don’t matter like cussing (the mere fact that I didn't use an expletive there says a lot). How can you get in touch with your deepest pain when you’re not allowed to convey it in a way that has the raw reality of what’s truly going on inside of you? When you’re not allowed to be dysfunctional enough to act out against your deepest pains. Instead we tell people to give whatever our problem is to God. Which can be a good thing when done well, when we’ve done the hard work of wrestling with it and with God about it, finally coming to a place where we can really let go of it. But, it can also be more avoidance, another way to deny what’s really going on inside of you. So, we dress up, put on our smiles, and give all of our problems to God or so we think. What we actually do is lay them down at the alter, then secretly leave the back door to the deepest part of our soul open for them to crawl back in without us even realizing. We secretly carry them around, avoiding the fact that they’re there because supposedly we gave them to God. And we go on, with our shallow and superficial lives wondering why we haven’t found that calling that enables us to live out of the depths of our being.

I think this is also the story of Jacob. Finally he confronts his biggest mistakes and deepest fears, and as he does so he wrestles with God and with man (himself). On the other side he finds a new identity and becomes a patriarch of the faith. Maybe living out of these depths is what Mother Teresa meant when she said you can do no great things, only small things with great love. But, small things done with great love change the world. My hope and prayer is to do this hard work and get in touch with the deepest parts of me. To find the fire in my belly, and fan the flames to where I hear the clear specific call of God on my life just as I have seen experienced in others. May that also be my prayer for you.