I saw your comments yesterday, but did not have the time or energy to enter into a conversation that will almost certainly be two ships passing in the night. I will share what I consider faulty in your arguments, but then I want to express my central concern at the end of this post.

Nowhere in the Bible does it say, “Thou shall not have an abortion.” The biblical case against abortion is extremely weak which is why opponents are reduced to using Psalms about God knowing us in the womb, or begging the question by presuming that every reference to murder is a condemnation of abortion as well.

“Telescoping” is the practice of projecting modern concepts onto ancient texts. So the opponents of Galileo were able to “prove” the earth does not orbit the sun treating ancient poems as if they were scientific. It is the same error to take poems not directly addressing abortion and using them as “proof.”

Another exhausting technique is called “dump trucking” which means to dump a bunch of scripture passages and force your opponent to refute them all. You listed a bunch of passages, but only three remotely approach the topic at hand -Psalm 139:13-16, Jeremiah 1:4-5 (saying God knows us in the womb) and Ex. 21:22-25)

You claimed that your opponents don’t care about scripture, but I have studied scripture my entire adult life in Greek and Hebrew which is why I can point out the emptiness of your argument. The idea that our souls enter the body at conception comes from Aristotle, not scripture. The word for “soul” or “spirit” means “breath” in Hebrew and the ancient Rabbi’s (before Greek influences) generally held that personhood begins at birth.

The two passages about God knowing us in the womb say nothing about the question of when personhood begins. God also knows the chick in the egg, but that doesn’t make it a person. We misuse the text when we twist it out of context and claim it is making a scientific claim. This was the error of Galileo’s opponents.

Finally, you quoted Exodus 21:22-25 which seems to make your case, but the text can be read in different ways. The NRSV quotes the passage in a way that sounds to say the fetus does not have personhood status. In that translation, injuring a woman should be punished by an eye for an eye, but inducing a miscarriage should be punished by a fine.

“22 When people who are fighting injure a pregnant woman so that there is a miscarriage, and yet no further harm follows, the one responsible shall be fined what the woman’s husband demands, paying as much as the judges determine. 23 If any harm follows, then you shall give life for life, 24 eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, 25 burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.”

If you look at the rest of the chapter it talks about slaves and women as property. I may love scripture, but I don’t want to bring that horror back to life in modern jurisprudence. There is much in the Bible that would be abhorrent if applied today.

So my three concerns can be summarized as follows: I do not accept your biblical interpretation, I do not accept your claim to be judge of other peoples’ lives, and I don’t want to live in the theocracy for which you advocate.



“Scripture” is not confined to any one book. Scriptures are any writings that touch our souls, whether or not they have the blessing of organized religion. The word “canon” means “yardstick” and is intended to give us a compass to sail in the great ocean of life, not a thimble in which to limit our mind’s search for truth. How can my soul not become larger when breathing the common breath of saint and freethinker alike? Because I am a minister I have a Jewish and Christian Testament by my desk, but the drawer where I keep the quotes and poems that awaken my soul to love nature and all humankind are my Third Testament.


As I left the sanctuary from our first worship service yesterday, I was surprised by a television crew from Germany. They were doing a documentary about religion in Texas. Sunday was their last full day in the States and they had just heard about our church. The film makers had been struck by how divided religious and nonreligious people are in Texas. They had heard our church might be a middle ground. I admitted that religion is often unhealthy, especially when it is in the service of capitalism, superstition, nationalism or even personal fear. I told them that we have several atheists in our congregation, and no one would think of converting them. I said our mysterious universe lies in between theistic and atheistic systems; and when we are humble, grateful and reverent, the gap is not so wide. When believers stand before mystery, all dogma is forgotten for a moment and they become reverent agnostics. When a scientist looks through a telescope and whispers “wow,” he or she has said what we mystics mean by the divine name.

On murder and male privilege

There have been some excellent articles this week questioning whether there is a link between recent mass murders such as in Isla Vista and attitudes of male privilege.

Chauncey DeVega wrote a brilliant article on white male privilege for Alternet pointing out that, “when an “Arab” or “Muslim” American kills people in mass they are a “terrorist”. When a black person shoots someone they are “thugs”. When a white man commits a mass shooting he is “mentally ill” or “sick”.”

Jessica Valenti of the Guardian wrote, “(Elliot) Rodger, like most young American men, was taught that he was entitled to sex and female attention. (Only last month, a young woman was allegedly stabbed to death for rejecting a different young man’s prom invitation.) He believed this so fully that he described women’s apathy toward him as an “injustice” and a “crime”.

“You forced me to suffer all my life, now I will make you all suffer. I waited a long time for this. I’ll give you exactly what you deserve, all of you. All you girls who rejected me, looked down upon me, you know, treated me like scum while you gave yourselves to other men.”

It is a serious mistake to consider these murders as inexplicable acts of unspecified mental illness if they are actually the result of misogynist attitudes learned by the majority of males of this culture. The National Coalition against Domestic Violence estimates that one in six women in the United States has suffered either sexual assault or attempted sexual assault. One third of all female homicides are committed by an intimate partner. A culture that produces this kind of abuse so routinely may very well be playing a major role in producing the misogynist attitudes that result in violence against women.

Looking back on his words, Rodger’s words sound eerily familiar to anyone who works on sexual assault or domestic violence:

“I’m 22 years old and I’m still a virgin. I’ve never even kissed a girl. College is the time when everyone experiences those things such as sex and fun and pleasure. But in those years I’ve had to rot in loneliness. It’s not fair. You girls have never been attracted to me. I don’t know why you girls aren’t attracted to me. But I will punish you all for it. I’ll take great pleasure in slaughtering all of you. You will finally see that I am, in truth, the superior one. The true alpha male.”

It is too early to know what happened in this specific case, but since violence against women in our culture is anything but rare, it is past time to ask whether much of this violence stems from teaching young males attitudes of male privilege.

“White male entitlement is the belief that minorities owe us deference, and women owe us sex,” says DeVega. He then quotes William Hamby on the topic:

“Rachel Kalish and Michael Kimmel (2010) proposed a mechanism that might well explain why white males are routinely going crazy and killing people. It’s called “aggrieved entitlement.” According to the authors, it is “a gendered emotion, a fusion of that humiliating loss of manhood and the moral obligation and entitlement to get it back. And its gender is masculine.” This feeling was clearly articulated by Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, the perpetrators of the Columbine Massacre. Harris said, “People constantly make fun of my face, my hair, my shirts…” A group of girls asked him, “Why are you doing this?” He replied, “We’ve always wanted to do this. This is payback… This is for all the sh*t you put us through. This is what you deserve.”

DeVega concludes:

“At the risk of getting too existentialist, I’d like to propose a very simple and elegant explanation for not only school shootings but a host of other barbaric acts in recent years: White men are having a crisis of both aggrievement and entitlement. One need only look at the 2012 election season to see less brutal but equally mind-numbing examples of white men going mad because they are losing their power. The “Republican Meltdown” is a perfect example of men who previously had all the control escalating to madness when that control was lost.

“The thing is, losing power hurts. That’s the “aggrieve” part of aggrieved entitlement. It’s one thing for a bunch of white men to feel hurt because they are no longer the kings of their own private castles, rulers of all they survey. It’s another thing for them to feel like they’re entitled to power, and more importantly, entitled to punish others for taking it away. And that — aggrievement plus the feeling of entitlement — is what may well drive people like Adam Lanza to these horrific crimes.”

Alan Alda said this week that humanity has seen the need to confront cancer and the common cold, “We don’t accept those things. Why should we accept this kind of behavior (misogyny) that leads to death and dismemberment, just because it’s common all over the world?”


I love this. It puts radical politics in a nutshell for me:

“Some time ago, in an attempt to discredit one of the Zapatista leaders in southern Mexico, Sub-comandante Marcos, government officials there tried to put forth the idea that Marcos was gay. In a region where machismo still runs strong, it was hoped this would tarnish the leader’s credibility.

He responded by writing a poem:

“Yes, Marcos is gay. Marcos is gay in San Francisco Black in South Africa an Asian in Europe, a Chicano in San Ysidro, an anarchist in Spain, a Palestinian in Israel, a Mayan Indian in the streets of San Cristobal, a Jew in Germany, a Gypsy in Poland, a Mohawk in Quebec, a pacifist in Bosnia, a single woman on the Metro at 10pm a peasant without land, a gang member in the slums, an unemployed worker, an unhappy student and, of course, a Zapatista in the mountains.

“Marcos is all the exploited, marginalised, oppressed minorities resisting and saying ‘Enough’. He is every minority who is now beginning to speak and every majority that must shut up and listen. He is every untolerated group searching for a way to speak. Everything that makes power and the good consciences of those in power uncomfortable — this is Marcos.”

[From Social Justice E-Zine #27.]



Confusion is not our enemy. Confusion is our body’s deepest creativity. It may not always feel pleasant, but confusion is like a picture coming into focus. Sometimes, all the information is already there. Other times, confusion is the process of gestating something new.

In an evolving universe periods of confusion are absolutely necessary if we are to grow. When confusion becomes frustrating, we must occasionally whisper to our hearts an affirmation of faith: “If I can but listen, this confusion will eventually lead me where I need to go.”


In the Name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, The Most Merciful –
May 20, 2014
Abubakar Shekau:
We urge you to immediately release the young children you have unconscionably taken. Your actions have shocked Muslims across the world and have disrespected Islam and the teachings of the Prophet (Peace Be Upon Him). 

Your justification for stealing these children – that education for girls goes against Islam – has no basis whatsoever in our faith. The Prophet Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him) wisely emphasized that every Muslim man and woman has a duty to seek education. You have truly strayed from Islam when your actions betray its first command: “Iqra!”
You do not represent Islam or what Muslims know to be the teachings of Islam. Your attempt to transform a central tenet of Islam into a vile lie used to kill and maim innocent Nigerians of all faiths is transparent. You treat children like cattle. It is abhorrent and sinful to pretend to be a Prophet to whom Allah has spoken.
A faithful reading of the teachings of Islam compels you to immediately return these children to their families. The Prophet (Peace Be Upon Him) instructs us to set an example of justice and mercy. In Surat Fussilat, Ayah 34, we are told that “the good deed and the evil deed are not alike,” and we are instructed to “repel the evil deed with one that is better.”
If you would like to follow the teachings of Islam, listen to the global chorus of voices that are enjoining you to do what is right: return these children to their families and replace the evil in your heart with peace and learning.


Keith Ellison
U.S. House of Representatives
Minneapolis, MN
André Carson
U.S. House of Representatives
Indianapolis, IN
Imam Mohamed Magid
ADAMS Center
Sterling, VA
Imam Abdullah T. Antepli
Duke University
Durham, NC
Oussama Jammal
U.S. Council of Muslim Organizations
Washington, DC
Sheikh Hamza Yusuf
Zaytuna College
Berkeley, CA
Imam Sheikh Jamal Said
The Mosque Foundation
Bridgeview, IL
Imam Sheikh Kifah Mustapha
The Mosque Foundation
Brigeview, IL
Dr. Hatem Bazian
American Muslims for Palestine
Palos Hills, IL
Mazen Mokhtar
Muslim American Society
Washington, DC
Nihad Awad
Council on American-Islamic Relations
Washington, DC
Naeem Baig
Islamic Circle of North America
Queens, NY
Khalil Meek
Muslim Legal Fund of America
Dallas, TX
W. Deen Mohammed II
The Mosque Cares
Chicago, IL
Mahtabuddin Ahmed
Muslim Ummah of North America
New York, NY
Hussein Ata
The Mosque Foundation
Bridgeview, IL
Shakeel Syed
Shura Council of Southern California
Orange Grove, CA
Imam Talib Shareef
The Mosque Cares
Washington, DC
Imam Mohamad Bashar Arafat
Islamic Affairs Council of Maryland
Baltimore, MD
Shaykh Yasir Qadhi
Al-Maghrib Institute
Memphis, TN
Imam William Suhaib Webb
The Islamic Society of Boston Cultural Center
Boston, MA
Imam Sohaib Sultan
Princeton University
Princeton, NJ
Imam Omer Bajwa
Yale University
New Haven, CT
Imam Yahya Hendi
Georgetown University
Washington, DC
Imam Dr. Salahuddin M. Muhammad
President, Association of Muslim Chaplains
Garner, NC
Imam Beau Latif Scurich
Northeastern University
Boston, MA
Imam Jihad Turk
Bayan Claremont Islamic Graduate School
Claremont, CA
Naila Scurich Baloch
Tufts University
Medford, MA
Imam Tarif Shraim
University of Maryland
College Park, MD
Shaykha Tahera Ahmed
Northwestern University
Chicago, IL
Chaplain Ailya Vajid
Swarthmore College
Swarthmore, PA
Imam Adeel Zeeb
Wesleyan University
Midldetown, CT


Tonight sometime after six we will have a wedding at the church for two of our neighbors who live on the street. Jim and Laura have been together a long time, but Jim was recently was diagnosed with a very serious illness and they want to give witness to their love. Their friends from the street will be invited, but they also want everyone from St. Andrew’s and from the community to know they are also invited. Tom Mitchell will provide music. Hopefully we will have a bit of a crowd to celebrate the event. Afterward, our typical thursday meal will be offered to those who need food, and to those who come to the wedding.

Layton William’s response to the APTS letter

My teachers, mentors, and friends,

I have known since I first read the letter you released that I wanted to respond to you. I have known that you would receive many other letters and I have wondered whether it was worth anything to add my voice, but you all have taught me that my voice matters, and so I will speak. Others have written from the perspective of the broader issues at stake, and I believe that is an essential part of the conversation. But I want to speak personally, because I believe this is all so deeply personal. In fact, I think somewhere underneath the problematic language of this letter, I imagine you were making the same argument: this is all so deeply personal and we would do well to remember it.

My response to the letter you unanimously stood behind was—like many others’—one of deep hurt and betrayal. In your call to “mutual forbearance” and refrain from “premature resolution”—I heard a scolding and a warning not to push too hard for justice or equality at the risk of others’ comfort or sense of belonging. In response I wondered what value there is in a sense of belonging that founds itself in the exclusion (fully or partially) of others. In the past year, I have just begun to understand the weight of history I will carry by being an out ordained queer pastor in the PCUSA. In your pleas for slow, careful movement and your warnings against “haste”—I saw the decades of struggle and pain and hard-won progress of those who have come before me collapsed into the phrase “too soon.” I heard a call to prioritize kindness over integrity and unity over justice—as if these things did not share one beating heart. As if there could ever be true kindness and unity without justice and equality.

I knew, of course, that this letter was not meant to address only me and others like me. But in as much as it seemed to respond to an assumed possibility of imminent departure, I wondered why it was addressed to us at all. What better example of “forbearance” can you imagine than those who have stayed within this church year after year and decade after decade despite abuse, dismissal, injustice, and inequality? What better example can be identified as commitment to the church than those who have invested their lives and livelihoods to ministry even when their ordination has been denied to them on the basis of their God-given identity? What better show of faith is there than those who have remain true to their calling and committed to the Church, even when it has cost them their families, their communities, their safety? What better picture of kindness is there than those who have stood before couples and joined them together in marriage even while their own marriages go unrecognized?

Might I suggest that such as these have something to teach the whole church about what loving kindness is? That is, we will fight for the Church that God calls us to be. We will speak truth. We will name injustice. And then, when others refuse to listen, when others refuse to respect and include us, when others abuse us in the name of the God who has called us, we will stay. But we will never stay quiet when there are still things in need of saying. We have too much love for the Church to settle for less.

I want to say that what was so deeply hurtful to me about this letter, was that what it seemed to be saying was so contrary to the radical inclusion, love, and embrace that so many of you have offered me in my time here and taught me to embody in my own ministry. You have been parents to me when my own could not be, you have affirmed my call and championed me when my community of origin would not, you have taught me a theology of radical love and grace when the theology I had been raised in made me feel only shame and fear. Over the past week, I have at some point thought of each of you individually—seen images of times spent in your offices and classrooms, moments that have challenged me and shaped me and taught me to believe in and fight for a better church—and I have wept. I have cried so much at the thought that these same professors and mentors who have sat with me in those dark places and taught me to hope in the face of seeming hopelessness, would now sign their names to a document asking me to hope less. To temper my faith in the Church that could be and my call to work for it without compromise.

I have had many conversations about your words over the past several days. On several occasions, I’ve had the opportunity to hear some of you clarify your intent and apologize for the other interpretations the letter has allowed. I have heard you say that your intent with this letter was precisely the opposite of how many of us have read it. That, in fact, you meant for your support of queer persons like myself to be assumed, and that you were urging others to be respectful of us and our need for justice. Some of you have admitted naivete and regret at the pain your words have caused. And hearing these things, I have wept again. I have taken great, gulping breaths of relief at the reassurance that you are not something other than I trusted you to be.

But I want to speak boldly and say, “It is not enough.” Intention is important. But I have learned in my writing and preaching that when words are spoken aloud, intention quickly becomes the shadow of interpretation. There are many who will read and interpret this letter for whom your support of equality, inclusion, and justice is not a foregone conclusion. If this letter created doubt so quickly in hearts like mine who have directly encountered your support and love, imagine what it might stir up in less informed hearts. If it is true—as has been said—that there is no confusion among you about your support for queer people in the church—then I wonder if that too might be worthy of public declaration.

Perhaps no such thing has been done before. But you were some of the first people to tell me that I could be queer and called to ministry—and so let me now tell you that there can be immense power in being first. I know that there is great risk in speaking bold and potentially divisive truth, but I also know that the call to faith is also a call to risk. I have so much hope for what might be accomplished if the wider world—even those who disagree and especially those who could never imagine it—knew the best parts of this institution—the parts that I have seen and been lifted up by.

I’m not really asking for another letter—that is a bit more literal than I am intending to speak. I suppose what I’m asking for is that you be just as public, just as vocal, just as convicted, and just as faithful in naming your support for justice and equality as you have been in this public call to “mutual forbearance.” I do not want you to be who you are not, but rather to live into the truth that you each have so thoroughly taught me: that the best way to do justice AND love kindness is to be fully and unapologetically who you are—who God has called you to be. And who that is—from my experience—is an institution that lifts up its queer students, like myself, as valuable leaders for the future of the church. An institution that believes that we are all called into relationship, and that such relationship is founded, ultimately, not in empty kindness or tempered passions, but in vulnerable authenticity and deep belief in the value of every human being.

Thank you for cultivating in me a faith in the love of God that gives me courage to call out moments when I don’t see that love being embodied—even when those moments come from people I love and respect.

So very sincerely,

Layton Williams

Rev. Remington Johnson’s response to APTS letter

When I first read the seminaries letter I found it rather benign but after sitting with and seeing a few reactions from my peers it strikes me as a bit of a cowardly stance. I’m all for peacemaking but peace at what cost? If our peace, our mutual pew sharing, comes at the lessoning of one Christian witness over another than I find this call for mutual forbearance similar to a call for those subjugated in other contexts to continue to remain, or rather actively work to keep their lights under a bushel ( starts humming this little light of mine…) If the issue were rather a theological one where we were simply pontificating on whether the host was actually flesh or not this would be an easier place for mutual forbearance as whether the host is flesh or not does not reflect my actual identity as a child of God. As this issue is one of identity, mutual forbearance calls for our brothers and sisters to hold pieces of their identity, their child of God-ness, in stasis so that more light can break in seems to lack a realistic understanding of the queer identity and witness. ( or possibly the just plain old Christian witness) Rev. Remington Johnson M,Div 2012