My Response to Kony 2012 aka #StopKony

I try not to simply re-post thoughts from my blog here, but I wanted to share today’s thoughts with this community as well…

If you’ve been on Facebook or Twitter over the last 24 hours, you have probably seen people talking about the efforts to stop Joseph Kony from the organization called Invisible Children.

Here’s my response after watching the 30-minute film.

Let me start as a filmmaker. It’s an amazing piece of art. Propaganda maybe…but the best kind of propaganda there can be. For those who say the media of film and video can’t actually change the world, this will prove them wrong. This little movie will change national and international policy – and likely bring a tyrant to justice. It is always dangerous to overstate things, but I think this movie is no flash in the pan. It will make it into the history books.

Now as a Christian. The Kingdom come must include justice. Nothing is closer to God’s heart and Jesus’ mission than rescuing the powerless from the hands of oppressors. I have no idea if the filmmakers are Christians, and it really doesn’t matter to me. The passion of their call to action smells of Kingdom come. For that reason, I love it.

The backlash? Shortly after going viral yesterday, the organization behind the video received criticism.

Largely on two fronts:

1.) A perceived lack of integrity with their finances, with many noting that just over 30% of the donations go directly to help those in need. Read the company’s latest financial report here.

2.) The company’s support of the Ugandan military which has a questionable human rights history. Read an article here.

In response to these criticisms, Invisible Children released this statement today.

So, what are we to do? I propose the following:

1. Watch the movie.

It’s a masterpiece regardless of where you land in the end.

2. Do something.

If we trust the filmmaker, that is his ultimate goal – to move you to action. Resolve in this moment that you will do something to come to the aid of children in the world who are being oppressed.

3. Research Invisible Children.

Do your own homework. If you feel comfortable, support them.

4. Donate.

If you are not comfortable with Invisible Children, you can still donate to others who can help. I currently support both Compassion International and Destiny Rescue.

5. Pray for Invisible Children.

If you elect to not support the Kony 2012 movement, you can still pray for justice to be done through their efforts. If nothing else, they have pulled our attention away from ourselves this week. That’s a miracle itself these days.

For me, I hope the movement keeps growing.

And that Joseph Kony is stopped.

@JoeBoyd blogs at www.joeboydblog.com

Agree or Die. [Improvisational Christianity #4]

Improv is play – simple pretending. Think of what works best when kids are at play.

Here are three examples of how little children tend to play together:

Example 1:

Girl: I’m a Princess!

Boy: No, you’re a Wizard!

Girl: No, I’m a Princess. You’re a Prince.

Boy: You’re ugly and stupid!

Girl leaves weeping.

Example 2:

Girl: I’m a Princess!

Boy: Ok, I’m A Wizard.

Girl: No. You’re a Prince. You have blonde hair and green eyes and you live in a castle and you have white horse and…

Girl won’t shut up. The boy grows bored (and annoyed.) He leaves.

Example 3:

Girl: I’m a Princess!

Boy: Yep, and I’m a Wizard!

Girl: Are you a good Wizard?

Boy: Yes, and I’m here to warn you of something terrible.

Girl: Oh no! Quick, come in my castle. It’s over here.

Boy: Ok, but hurry.

They play like this for hours, telling an impossible story, laughing together and becoming friends.

If you have spent time with kids lately, you’ve probably seen a real-life version of each of the three above scenarios. An underlying premise behind improvisation is, not only that play is important, but that there is a better way to play. A certain style of play is more mutually fun and meaningful. This style of play (Example 3) is centered in the concept of Agreement.

Rule #3 – Agree and Accept.

(Late to the discussion? Learn about Rule #1 and Rule #2.)

When I teach kids (or adults) to improvise, this is the biggest stumbling block. Non-agreement is the easiest way to spot an amateur improviser. Here’s an example of a typical scene with two adult students during a first level improv class:

Guy: W’sap?

Girl: Nothing.

Guy: You come here to get your fake ID?

Girl: No. I don’t need a fake ID.

Guy: Yes you do. You called me and told me.

Girl: I don’t even know you, how could I call you?

Oh the agony of bad play! Put me out of my misery… fast.

The above scene tells me that I am dealing with two insecure actors, afraid to trust one another.

Here’s an example of how two professionals might play the same scene:

Guy: Psst. Jenny. Over here. I got your fake ID. (He waves it above his head.)

Girl: Put it away! The cops will see you. (She looks around and walks to him, whispering.) They’re all over the place.

Guy: Uh, yeah. It’s a police station. You got the payment?

Girl: Yes, $20 of Chick-fil-a gift cards, just like your text said…

You get the point. There are some rules at play we haven’t discussed yet in this short scene, like heightening, raising the stakes, etc. But this scene works because there is agreement. The first scene lacks agreement so it, professionally speaking, sucks.

You have to agree and accept to be a good improviser.

The second you don’t agree, you weaken the story and fail your partner. We call this saying Yes.

Yes is always the right answer in improv.

Saying Yes means that we are constantly affirming the reality that we are creating together. If my partner tells me that I’m a doctor, then I’m a doctor. End of story. I can be any kind of doctor I want to be until one of us specifies, but I am a doctor:

You: Doctor, we have a problem!

Me: Ok, nurse. I’m ready to do brain surgery right this time.

OR

You: Doctor, we have a problem!

Me: Please, my friends just call me Dre. Let’s just get this track down.

Here is a BAD choice:

You: Doctor, we have a problem!

Me: No we don’t it’s all under control.

Or an even worse response –

You: Doctor, we have a problem!

Me: I’m not a doctor, I’m a blind cowboy.

You can’t play with anyone until you agree with them!

As improvisers, we agree. Because it is the best way to play.

Agreement does not mean that we agree that the other person is right.

It means that we agree that what is happening is really happening. We agree on reality.

We may completely disagree what our scene partner does, but it doesn’t matter. To deny the reality of our pretend world makes it vanish into awkward meaninglessness.

There are at least four reasons why people don’t agree in improv (and life):

1. Hidden Agendas.

This is the biggest reason younger improvisers have for disagreeing. An actor will think before the scene starts something like, “I’m gonna be Tarzan.” Then he walks on stage and his partner leads with, “Doctor, we have a problem.” The amateur will instinctively say, “No.” Because he thinks he is Tarzan. But only he knows he thinks that. His partner made him a doctor, so he’s a doctor. The reality we live in is mutually created moment by moment. Nobody except all of us is allowed to be the writer the story.

2. Self-absorption.

If you don’t hear your partner, you can’t agree with her. If you don’t watch your partner, you can’t tell a story together. Your partner matters more than you do in any scene. You can’t play without her. The more fun she has, the longer you get to play together and the better story you tell. In short, it’s never about you. You only exist to serve the story and the other storytellers.

3. Fear.

Unfortunately, we tend to say “no” when we don’t know what else to do. People are watching. Our partner may be struggling. So we take over, ignore everything we have created together and try to save face. It never works. You will look desperate. Better to agree and fail together, then disagree and die alone.

4. Pimping.

The best improvisational comedians aren’t trying to be funny. They are trying to be in the present and tell a story. Funny comes from being real. In every scene, there is always the opportunity to tell a cheap joke at the expense of your partner. (We call this pimping for obvious reasons.) You can pimp your partner by selling them out to get a cheap laugh. And the audience will laugh. Once. But you killed the scene before it started…and you damaged the trust of your partner because you were selfish.

This thinking has gone way beyond a hobby or a job for me. Agreement is my life philosophy. It doesn’t mean that I have to agree with everyone’s opinions. Lots of people are wrong about lots of things.

But it does mean that I have to agree to reality.

Especially in matters concerning God, Jesus and the faith.

For instance, my denominational heritage (Christian/Church of Christ) tends to interpret most all of the Bible “literally.” Let’s take a less controversial story like Jonah. I now think it is clearly allegory. I was taught growing up that if I think that way, I am “on a slippery slope” to heresy. At some point, through study and contemplation, it just screamed out to me that the reality is that parts of the Bible are meant to be allegorical. Do I really think some guy was physically in the belly of a fish for several days – not only surviving, but writing and memorizing Hebrew poetry?

No. I don’t believe that actually happened. The point is that I had to overcome my hidden agenda, self-absorption, and fear to see the reality that was there all along. I was also pimping the book of Jonah – selling it out for a quick and easy interpretation. Now I am free to play with a brilliant piece of literature.

I see a lot of issues boiling up in and around the church that are divisive. Some of them have yet to reach their climax. It’s not going to be pretty when they do. What I see, often on both sides of any given hot button topic, is a lot of hidden agendas, self-absorption, fear and ruthlessness. This makes honest discussion (let alone unity) impossible. Until we can agree on what is actually going on in the world, we can’t work (or play) together. We can’t agree until we shed our agendas, egos and fears. That’s hard to do. It means vulnerability. It means, not just that I might not get my way, but that I certainly will not get my way.

But we could find our way together.

That’s what an improvisational Christianity looks like to me.

Are you ready to say Yes to reality?

Even if it paralyzes you with fear?

Even if it takes away your power?

Even if it is the harder road?

I had planned on sharing my list of the“realities” that I think we are ignoring. But I would love to hear yours instead. I’d also love to see if we can practice respecting each other’s concept of reality within these very comments.

How long can we play together before defaulting to the age-old time-tested Christian practice of the “No” we call excommunication? It will be an interesting experiment to find out. (I was excommunicated again just yesterday on my friend Kurt’s blog - but not by Kurt.)

What do you think? What is the reality we are currently living in? How do we get past our agendas, egos, fears and comfortability to joyfully play together again in the world we all share?

@JoeBoyd blogs daily at www.joeboydblog.com.

 

The Birth of the Emerging Church & a Missing Voice

There is one important person who helped start the entire discussion about “Progressive Christianity” or the “Emerging Church” who has been silenced. He is speaking again, and I’d suggest we all welcome him back. Let me explain:

Somewhere around 1996 an organization called Leadership Network pulled together about 10-20 young leaders in the church to begin a discussion about ministry for Generation X. Within a few months, the conversation morphed into a more academic one about post-modernism and theology. I was there. I wasn’t a strong voice, but somehow I was invited in a few months into the process. I was only 23.

Many of the “emerging” leaders who sat in that room have greatly influenced the current state of the American church. Around 1998 I wandered out of the conversation and fell into the smaller “house church” or “organic church” subset of the group. Then I eventually left that discussion as well. I was burnt out on discussing anything at all – until recently.

A few years ago, a Yale Divinity student called me to do an interview for her thesis. I thought it was an odd thing, but I took the call. The premise of her paper was that those meetings in the mid-nineties changed the face of American Christianity for the long haul. She wanted to get my take on what it was like from the inside. I could barely remember any details, but I told her a few stories. If her premise is true, I can’t take any of the credit or blame for what has happened since. I didn’t contribute much at all, but evidently I had a great seat to watch history in the making.

The loudest voices of my peers seemed to be Mark Driscoll, Chris Seay, Brad Cecil and Doug Pagitt. (If you know of these guys, you can easily see the extremely different results of those early conversations with 15 years of hindsight.) They were all roughly my age, but much more vocal and confident than me.

There were some “older” voices speaking into the discussion as well. (It’s funny for me to realize that the older people back then were younger than I am now.) People like Brian McLaren, Sally Morgenthaler, Todd Hunter, and many others. I also met rogue Christians like Joel Vestal, Andrew Jones, and Tony Jones. There was this 22-year old clean cut ball-cap-wearing worship leader named David Crowder whom I especially liked. I was just lucky to be there with all these fascinating people.

But, here’s the thing. As much as I liked everyone, there were two guys who interacted differently with me. There were all these green up-and-coming leaders jostling amongst themselves to take the reins of an unknown movement, and then there was Dieter Zander and Tim Celek. They had about a decade on all of us. They were actually pastoring established churches full of young people, so they had less patience to sit around and debate post-modern theory with us. They had just co-written a very practical little book called Inside the Soul of  New Generation.

Looking back on it now, they simply took the time to get to know me and love me. Maybe they saw that I wasn’t ever going to be one of the louder voices in this new movement. But they seemed to see something else in me. Dieter would call to check up on me from time to time.  Tim invited me to speak at his church several years in a row. (Which was great because it meant free vacations to Newport Beach at a time when we were dirt poor.) Of everyone, Tim had the most personal impact on my life, trusting me to wade back into vocational ministry at his church, The Crossing, in 2005. The two years there showed me that I could have a place in the organized church again. There’s no way I am here now without Tim believing in me back then.

But Dieter and I lost touch. He was at Willow Creek Community Church in Chicago leading a huge sub-church called Axis. We’d talk from time to time in those days. Then he moved to San Francisco to start a house church. It would have made sense for us to reconnect then, but we didn’t. In 2008, Dieter suffered a stroke that left him unable to speak, sing or play piano. His whole life he had made a living as public speaker and worship leader. It was devastating. I should have reached out, but I didn’t. I was sure he had closer friends to help him recover and just thought I’d get in the way. Maybe this post now is my way of finally reaching out on behalf of all of us.

Here is how Dieter describes himself now:

“I lost most of my speech and the use of my right hand. I am creative and an artist. I’ve been a musician, pianist, singer, bandleader, composer, teacher, pastor, writer, counselor, speaker, but that’s gone now. I’m alive! I’m married, parent, friend, son, brother, and God’s child. I’m creative and an artist again. I’m a photographer. And I love it!”

Dieter Zander

Dieter’s life is harder now. He is a preacher and singer without a voice. In response, he has turned to visual art to communicate. I would love to add Dieter’s “voice” back into the current conversation. Below is a video Dieter created using his art to tell his story. Check it out, along with his photography website.

YouTube Preview Image

@JoeBoyd blogs daily at www.joeboydblog.com.

Personal Confession Re: “Occupy” Movement

 

courtesy occupywallst.org

History will tell if the Occupy Movement spurs any sort of actual change in America. I line up on some the issues of societal justice that the movement desires. I also disagree with some things. Here is something I do believe:

The wealthy have a unique responsibility.

The wealthiest of the wealthy – the top 1% – even more so.

My friend Wess Stafford says this:

“The opposite of poverty isn’t wealth. The opposite of poverty is enough.”

He’s probably right. I don’t have any problem with wealthy people enjoying life, spending their money and having some fun. I just think that the world is much better when rich people are radically generous. I couldn’t imagine someone waking up everyday knowing that they were part of the 1% of the wealthiest people in the world and not doing something for the other 99%.  And yet so many do.

The web is full of peaceful protestors posting photos as part of the 99%, like this one.

courtesy occupywallst.org

Here’s a quote from the original Occupy Wall Street tumbler site:

“We are the 99 percent. We are getting kicked out of our homes. We are forced to choose between groceries and rent. We are denied quality medical care. We are suffering from environmental pollution. We are working long hours for little pay and no rights, if we’re working at all. We are getting nothing while the other 1 percent is getting everything. We are the 99 percent.”

I get what they are saying. It simply isn’t fair that the extremely rich – the one guy out of every 100 – holds almost all the wealth. Especially when so many of the 99% are legitimately hungry, homeless and oppressed. I know it can get politically complicated in the details, but I get the sentiment. Again, I am not against the cause. It’s just hard for me to be completely behind it because…

Here’s my big confession. I say this with a little embarrassment and a lot of humility.

I am part of the 1%.

I am one of those guys. I am ridiculously wealthy. This may surprise some of you who don’t know my story very well – where I have come from, my family heritage, etc. I hide my wealth very well. It makes me uncomfortable to flaunt it. It is hard to write about it now.

So you can see why the Occupy Movement creates mixed emotions in me. Unlike most everyone else alive on the planet, I have a unique responsibility to be especially generous. And, to be frank, I don’t think I am doing exceptionally well. (Full disclosure: In 2010, I only gave away about 14% of my income to charity. That just doesn’t seem like enough for someone as blessed as me. I have simply gotten used to living on the 86%. It is hard to give more away.)

Maybe you have figured out my angle by now. If not, I’ll let you off the hook.

The Occupy Movement is made up of people from the 99% of Americans frustrated that 1% of their fellow Americans hold most of the nation’s wealth. It is true that I am not part of that 1%.

But I am part of the 1% worldwide.

According to an article on CNNMoney yesterday, to be in the top 1% of the world’s worth, your annual income (after taxes) must exceed:

$34,000

That’s it.

Half of the world’s wealthiest 1% live in America.

From money.cnn.com 1-04-12

I am part of the 1%

Are you?

What in the world are we going to do about it?

My friend Wess, whom I mentioned above, can help you be more generous if you want. He helped me.

He is the president of this company. He takes money from rich people like me and gives it to the poor.

This post isn’t really about trying to get money for Wess’ company per se, but I would like to challenge you to consider doing something similar in 2012. Especially if you are as rich as me. Maybe even post a public photo admission like this one telling the rest of the world that you are part of the 1%…and what you are going to do about it.

Here’s my photo admission.

Taken from my iPhone.

Written on my iPad.

joe boyd

@JoeBoyd blogs daily at www.joeboydblog.com.