Serene Jones

Economists and Innkeepers

2012-12-17T14:52:06-05:00

As our nation focuses on economic issues such as fiscal cliffs and tax rates, it is odd to see the topic of faith, underlying election issues just six weeks ago, recede completely from sight. It's odd because in contrast to hot-button topics like gay marriage, gun-control, and reproductive rights, Christian scriptures have much to say about economics. In fact, few topics are more important.

Granted, Jesus was no economist. But open any Bible and within a few seconds of reading, economic matters surface. Its teaching is unambiguous. Page after page of Gospel accounts of Jesus' life are filled with his fierce denunciation of gross inequality and his unequivocal condemnation of those who turn their backs on the poor. He wanted society to be better for everyone, particularly the most vulnerable. And he demanded that faithful people make it happen.

If this is true in Jesus' time, why, then, is it not part of our shared conversations about economic life today? What are we missing? This is the ground covered in the new lecture series on Economics & Theology co-sponsored by the Institute for New Economic Thinking and the institution I head, Union Theological Seminary. Two Nobel Prize winning economists, Joseph E. Stiglitz and George Akerlof, delivered the first two lectures, to packed audiences, eager for fresh thought and guidance.

What has emerged? Two lessons. One, Economic theory is replete with theological and moral assumptions about human nature and society. And two, economics is too important to be left to the economists.

Economics has many assumptions about the purpose of life and about how "good or bad" people are. These judgments rarely catch the attention of our economic theorists ... but they nonetheless condition and shape everything that economists say. In their work, both Stiglitz and Akerlof discuss these values and their implications. Both challenged the rosy economic notions that preceded the collapse of 2008, among them the idealized belief in the stability of unfettered capitalism. They also have challenged the idea that free markets were somehow inherently capable of self-correction and don't need government regulation to function fairly. Given human nature and given our present system, they both point out that it's no wonder that the economy went off the rails.

Stiglitz is correct when he says that government policies favoring the America's top 1 percent are morally indefensible and ultimately undermine the well-being of everyone, including the rich. As it is, the top 1 percent control 40 percent of the country's wealth. In addition, the 1 percent has overwhelming access to policy makers who rig the rules in favor of those with the highest incomes. America's rising inequality at the top means an increasing number of people in the middle and at the bottom have fewer opportunities, which challenges the fundamental moral values of fairness and equality that most Americans have traditionally taken for granted.

Akerlof also weighs moral issues. He talks about so-called "animal spirits" in economics, analyzing the manner in which psychology, emotions and even "irrational exuberance" influences capitalism. Akerlof was one of the very few economists who foresaw the housing bubble before the collapse. He combines the science of economics with a clear-eyed vision of the fallibility of human beings.

Listening to both of these expansive thinkers makes it clear that understanding economics must not be treated as if it is beyond the moral competence of ordinary people. The subject is complex, but not unintelligible. Just as war is too important to leave to generals, it's clear that economics is far too vital to leave solely to the economists.

Thinking critically about economics requires that we question our underlying values and their impact on society. For example, I would argue that rather than being merely faceless economic units, we all have a moral responsibility for the care of each other. At the same time, I also have a profound faith-based belief that people are inescapably motivated by greed and self-interest and can (and inevitably will) act in deeply harmful ways. And people, with all their flaws, run markets. Why, then, could anyone believe that they were above manipulation -- or error? Given this, we should support regulations that constrain our greed and protect our neighbor. Although we are incapable of creating Utopia, we are morally bound to create a world in which all people have a chance to flourish.

Since it is the holiday season, I'd like to end up with this timely image. If the current economy were the original Christmas scene, the innkeeper -- in the form of the wealthiest among us and the economic theorists supporting them -- would turn away the 99 percent. The result? It would be a mighty crowded manger. Does that seem right?

Shift the lens slightly ...

We live in a democracy in which we supposedly share of work of innkeeping. This nation is our shared living-space, and its up to us to see that there are healthy clean rooms for everyone.

A wild dream? Maybe. Merry Christmas.

Serene Jones is the president of Union Theological Seminary in New York City.

America Needs a New Econo-Theology

2012-09-21T14:28:17-04:00

Though not much read, Americans still revere the novels of Horatio Alger, Jr. Writing nearly 150 years ago, in the midst of Post-Civil War turmoil, Alger taught his young male audience that hard work, good personal hygiene and moral rectitude were a sure path to a brighter, wealthier future.

These so-called "rags to riches" stories remain popular in the American imagination because they mesh well with other cherished aspects of our national identity. Namely, that the United States is a land of opportunity, where all people are created equal, but those who rise to the tippy-top do so because of their extraordinary contributions to society.

If these ideals were ever true, however, in 2012 they must be recognized as myths, says Joseph E. Stiglitz. He is the Nobel Prize-winning economist and professor at Columbia University, who recently published a new book, "The Price of Inequality: How Today's Divided Society Endangers Our Future." Stiglitz was also the featured speaker at a new lecture series on Economics and Theology inaugurated this week at Union Theological Seminary, and jointly sponsored with The Institute for New Economic Thinking.

Hearing Stiglitz address a crowd of several hundred people who gathered at Union last Wednesday evening was nearly a spiritual experience for me. I found myself saying "yes!" out loud, so relieved was I to hear such a clear-eyed look at the issue of social justice. I was also surprised to discover how many viewpoints Stiglitz and I, an economist and a theologian, hold in common. Uncertainty and hope. Greed and fear. These are concepts, of course, that drive the stock market and our consumer-based economy. They are also concerns which roil the human soul.

From the way he thunders in his book's pages, Stiglitz sounds like a biblical prophet. He is demanding that America wake up and become aware of the bad path we are on, as well the wrong choices we've made. Here are just two of the startling statistics he offers.

Fact: Today, the wealthiest 1 percent of households have 225 times the wealth of the typical American, almost double the ratio in 1962 or 1983.

Fact: The combined wealth of one family, the Waltons, meaning the six heirs to the Wal-Mart empire, is $69.7 billion, or equivalent to the wealth of the entire bottom 30-percent of U.S. society!

The only way to address this nearly incomprehensible imbalance of wealth, Stiglitz believes, is by questioning our faith in what is actually America's true religion: capitalism. And therein lies the problem. Because as my friend, and fellow panelist at last Wednesday's lecture, Betty Sue Flowers, points out, both fervent capitalists and religious zealots manifest an extreme unwillingness to rethink any aspect of their sacred ideologies. "Some say, if you tinker with religion, you'll end up in Hell," Flowers noted. "Others say, if we mess with capitalism, we'll all become socialist."

It reminds me of something the economist John Kenneth Galbraith once wrote, "The emancipation of belief is the most formidable of the tasks of reform, the one on which all else depends."

Stiglitz teaches us that the way we think about economics shapes our values. We need to have the strength to evolve away from stale myths. Only then can change occur. In the same way sexism and racism were ideologies that too-long went unquestioned in America, we now must reconsider capitalism.

Is America still the land of opportunity? No. Horatio Alger is dead. Horatio Alger remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves?

You may recognize echoes of Freiderich Nietzsche in those sentences, as with very similar words did Nietzsche, in 1887, shock the world with his views on the death of God. Say what you will of his thesis (and I, for one, do not believe God is dead), we must at least hail Nietzsche for his willingness to confront and provoke. Oh, that a similar fire, and anger, might burn here in America!

There is something profoundly wrong with our moral values, where we have become so desensitized to the gross economic disparity existing in the United States. We live in a society where we have traded virtue for material rewards. We should have more conversations about our deep diminishing of human life; talk less of success, and more about love.

For if we don't, we will continue to pay the price of inequality. And that cost is high.

Why Attend Seminary?

2012-07-12T16:08:41-04:00

As president of Union Theological Seminary, I am very proud of this institution's 175-year history as a force for socially-engaged Christianity in America and around the world. It's fascinating to me, though, how many people know of Union but have absolutely no idea what happens on our campus, or at other seminaries.

If you announce plans to attend law, medical, or business school, your friends and family will have a fairly good idea what you'll be doing for the next few years. Share your goal to become a seminarian, however, and you likely will be met with puzzled, if not skeptical, looks. Images of medieval, monastic endeavors are conjured, happening at a place where those who are excessively pious go to become even more excessively pious. And, they probably wear long brown robes.

While it's true that Union's front door opens onto a convent-like courtyard -- where the commotion of Manhattan is stilled -- that's about all we share with our medieval forebears. Today's students, both bleary-eyed and overly-caffeinated, wear hipster sneakers, or bow ties, or industrial earrings. Their conversations range from the ethics of organic vegetables, to the religious roots of 12-step programs. Just this last year, we welcomed to our chapel speakers ranging from popular columnist Dan Savage and artist Marina Abramovic, to the great pulpit preacher Reverend Dr. James Forbes.

Coming from a Latin word for "seed," a seminary is a garden where new ideas and new viewpoints are carefully cultivated. And, not just so-called "religious" ideas, either. Union, you see, embodies a model of protestant education created by John Calvin, the 16th-century French intellectual and Genevan Reformer. Calvin advocated that to discern the meaning of life, you must study everything -- math, science, history, and languages -- and all with equal intensity of purpose.

We tend to forget many of America's best-known academic institutions -- Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Duke, Emory, and Vanderbilt, to name only a few -- were originally founded as seminaries. To become ministers, students at these schools were given what we now think of as a "liberal arts" education. Union Theological Seminary still stands by this broad ideal of intellectual freedom. The more we know about the world, the more we know about ourselves. As we understand ourselves better, we gain a greater understanding of God. And the more we come to know God, the more truly we know ourselves.

With fundamentalism of all sorts on the rise in the religious realm, and ever-more narrowly-defined partisan rhetoric overtaking the political, this academic goal -- no limits; no "off limits" -- is just as crucially relevant now as it was in Calvin's day.

There are basically two types of students who show up at Union each autumn, ready to engage in such a fearless style of learning. First, and most traditionally, are those who've grown up in a church or a faith-based community, and are now highly-motivated to become a pastor or religious leader. They are Baptists, Unitarians, Episcopalians, and Presbyterians, and the list goes on. They've come to Union because they want to be on the leading edge of religious leaders who are rethinking church life, to make it more faithful and pertinent.

Secondly, and equally important, are those who might not have grown up in churches, or read the Bible, or even heard of John Calvin, yet they're drawn to Union because of spiritual yearnings and an abiding concern about social justice. Most of these students aren't headed towards traditional pulpits, but to work in the non-profit realm or other professional environments. We teach the value of community and the joy of connecting with people who are different from them, yet with whom they can find great common cause. All our students discover they're not the first seminarians to ask hard questions about society, to push the boundaries of what is considered acceptable theology, or to protest against abuses done in
the name of God. In our classes they meet centuries of rebels who have put their lives on the line to stand up for unpopular causes. Moreover, they learn that deep thought and wise action requires rigorous study.

How do we discern a truth that can grasp us fully, and what is demanded of our lives when we stand, humbly, before this truth? A seminary education centers on thinking about the "why" of existence, and making it come alive in a vision for both what the world is, and could be.

It is demanding work -- and satisfying beyond belief.

Protest 101: What Happens When A Seminary Is Occupied?

2011-11-16T18:21:39-05:00

Protests on a massive scale are scheduled to occur across New York City today, as Nov. 17 marks the two-month anniversary of the Occupy Wall Street movement. With Tuesday morning's surprise eviction of protesters from Zuccotti Park, plans are now underway for demonstrations to relocate to City Hall, and even into the subway system (details are at occupywallst.org). How these boisterous crowds behave, and how police respond, will do much to determine the future of this popular uprising. The stakes are high.

At Union Theological Seminary, we stand in full solidarity with the protestors. That's clear to us. As President, however, I'll admit the prospect of my seminarians being in today's events makes me a bit worried and anxious. I want them safe, yet I also know that questioning the status quo, as well as defying entrenched authority, is one of The Bible's most powerful themes, especially as it is revealed through the example of Jesus Christ.

With this in mind, ever since this grass-roots movement began back on Sept. 17, everyone at Union has mobilized. Only a few days after protesters first took over Zuccotti Park, in fact, students came to me seeking permission to fly the UTS banner down in lower Manhattan, and show support for the then-few who were camped out there. I immediately approved, reminding them Union has a long history of supporting movements which address issues of poverty and justice, ranging from Dietrich Bonhoeffer (a UTS student in 1930) who fought the Nazis in his native Germany, to more contemporary issues like Civil Rights, Women's Right, the Vietnam War and South African Apartheid. Our seminarians have been in the vanguard for each.

As for this movement, flying banners is fine, but we quickly decided much more needed to be done. And so, in cooperation with other seminaries, we trained Union students to volunteer as "protest chaplains," who were available to listen to, and counsel, anyone who asked for help, be they anarchist, capitalist, or no "ist" at all. Ours was a plan in progress, and somewhat disorganized. In a way, though, our scrambling to respond to Occupy Wall Street mirrored the tumble of demands -- jobs, healthcare, lower student loans, increased infrastructure investment, immediate changes in NYPD's stop and frisk practices -- coming from the protesters themselves.

In time, as the "Occupy" message crystalized into an overarching concern over economic inequity -- and the brilliant rallying cry of "We are the 99%" emerged -- so did a clearer course of action form at Union. We soon had 45 protest chaplains, operating on a round-the-clock schedule at Zuccotti Park. On our campus uptown, we put everyone involved through the activist drill, including a seminar on non-violent resistance, a course on the legal rights of occupiers, and training on how to be pastoral presence in the midst of chaos.

Above all, I encouraged my students to dig deeper for answers in their Bible and theology courses. Jesus committed his entire life, and death, to the love of all humanity, including the 1 percent, but most especially he identified with the poor and powerless. He showed his particular love, time and again, by sleeping alongside them, eating with them and living as one of them. It is with the neediest, Jesus told his disciples, that God is alive and on the move.

Yes, our fall semester at Union Theological Seminary has become pretty well "occupied," and shame on us if it hadn't! The Wall Street protests are not a distraction, but an opportunity to explore more fully what might have been merely academic before Sept. 17. Their studies come first, however, I repeatedly tell my seminarians, because what they learn now will sustain them not only through today's protests, but through future causes that may require non-violent action as well as the day-to-day courage to stand up for what is right.

So far, no Union student has been arrested, or suffered any physical harm. Will this change as a result of the Nov. 17 actions? It's not mine to determine; the movement is squarely in their fresh and earnest hands. I will be praying for them, though, saying over and over, "Keep them safe. And keep all of us safe from evil."

You see, even though I am their institutional "worried mom," and I regard these excellent women and men as my educational charges, they must follow their own conscience. I'm fearful the protests may turn ugly. But my heart also leaps as I envision every student at Union Theological Seminary as a budding Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who will have the fearless spiritual discipline of staying present. My hope is they'll be full of life and light, and vigilant enough to see Jesus walking through the crowds, among police and protesters alike, offering peace.

P.S. Just tonight, Dr. Cornel West has announced that he will be joining the faculty of our Seminary starting the fall of 2012.

Hate And Hope

2011-09-07T16:06:04-04:00

Of the many unforeseen results of Sept. 11, 2001, what stands out most in my mind is a startling increase of cooperation among open-hearted and open-minded religious leaders across the country. And not just theoretic cooperation, like signing petitions or standing next to each other at press conferences, but a deep unity of purpose as we've shared ways to help our congregations, synagogues, temples and mosques deal with the aftermath of this dreadful day.

Ten years ago I had never read the haggadah, much less a feminist one. I'd not chanted in Sanskrit, not to mention a prayer about climate change. And the list goes on. My world has gotten bigger in ways I couldn't have fathomed a decade ago.

At the same time, alas, we've witnessed a dramatic deterioration of our nation's capacity for inter-religious understanding. It's stunning, really, how far apart we've drifted. The loudest voices talking about religion are either so rigidly and judgmentally Christian that I'm tempted to chuck my Bible at someone, or so smugly secular that I want to pray in public to affirm that faith can be a good thing.

How is it that both greater freedom and hate-filled intolerance resulted from the attacks of 9/11? There is no one answer to this, but as I've learned more about the world's religions, I now see how fully they agree on the need for compassion to heal human brokenness. In other words, they all agree on the persistence of hate in our world (I call that brokenness sin) and the even more dogged reality of enduring love (I call that compassion, grace).

All sacred texts affirm that people of faith must compassionately care for their neighbors by giving shelter to the homeless, feeding the hungry and clothing the poor. This generosity of spirit spilled over 10 years ago and keeps pouring forth today.

Wisdom literature also portrays human brokenness in profound ways. In Judaism, we read about Diaspora and the trauma of being forcibly severed from family and cultural frameworks. Islamic teachings emphasize that no one is spared suffering in this life, including the Prophet Muhammad himself. Hindu culture believes in a cycle of birth, death and rebirth, called samsara, whereby how we've behaved in the past affects how we live now. And Buddhist teachings suggest we gratefully accept all of life's experiences, be they joyful or painful.

As the 10th anniversary of 9/11 approaches, we must acknowledge the wound inflicted on this day have not healed, but festered. On our own shores, we've seen surviving families ripped apart by divorce, alcoholism, drug abuse, domestic violence and other symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. At a global level, the 9/11 attacks led to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, so a ripple effect of bloodshed and violence continues. How, then, can we memorialize something that's still happening?

Speaking from my own faith tradition as a Christian, I'll offer the spiritual practice of repentance. What I'm talking about is not simply a question of fessing up, as in, "Mom, I stole a pack of chewing gum from the grocery store last week." No. As described in the New Testament, repentance is a very physical action of being completely turned around, of getting reoriented to look at things in an entirely new way. Repentance can occur on an individual, communal or even national level. It is not an act of weakness, but of strength.

My hope for the future is that we can turn away from aggressive nationalism, as well as the political and religious sectarianism the 9/11 attacks created. And let us reorient our compassion to be mindful not only of who suffered and died then, but who is dying now.

This would be a true and fitting memorial not just for Sept. 11, 2001, but for sorrow-filled, yet irrepressibly hopeful reality we call human history.

This post is part of a collection of interfaith reflections on 9/11 and the decade that followed.

Why I'm Not Marrying Any Gay Couples on July 25

2011-07-21T11:21:42-04:00

Across New York City, and the entire Empire State, truckloads of wedding invitations are being dispatched for July 25. On that auspicious day, happy gay and lesbian couples are inviting their friends and family to join them on beaches, boats, churches and courthouse steps to watch them tie a knot that, in many cases, should have been tied years ago.

As someone who worked hard toward making this historic moment happen, I'm giddy with excitement. But as a reverend who is now newly sanctioned to conduct legal, state-authorized weddings, I am feeling a little uninvited to the party, as not one same-sex couple has approached me to officiate at their ceremony.

At the risk of sounding immodest, I'm an obvious choice as a bona fide minister and the president of Union, a seminary, where open LGBTQ students and faculty have been studying and teaching for decades. Given this, it's interesting to ask: Why is my schedule for July 25 not booked solid with vow-sharing celebrations? In some small way, I think, it indicates that the tide of intolerance toward gay and lesbians is not only turning, but has been for quite awhile. After all, it's been nearly 20 years since I presided over my first same-sex marriage.

This was back in the early 1990s, when I was a professor at Yale Divinity School. At this time, no state in America was issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples and few churches were even talking about it. I don't recall being particularly shocked, or even surprised, however, when two women who were Divinity School students approached me one afternoon, and asked me if I would marry them.

There was no question that I was willing. Immediately, it struck me as an idea whose time had come. I teach the history of Christianity, so I'm all too aware how the church has, at various points in its checkered past, refused to allow interracial marriages, interfaith marriages and even international marriages. Just as these unfair interdictions faded away over time, I believed prohibitions over same sex couples being wed would, too.

But here's what most interesting. I didn't say "yes" to the lesbian couple's request right away. Instead, I paused. Why? Because I wouldn't have given my assent immediately to a heterosexual couple, either.

Marriage is a serious business, and shouldn't be entered into lightly, whether you are gay or straight. With this in mind, I insisted we have a series of conversations together about what their proposed union meant to them, during which I could discern if I found them compatible enough for me to publicly sanction their commitment ceremony. Like any responsible pastor, I had to make sure I wasn't enabling a destructive union to take place, one potentially marked by violence, for example. In this case, after six weeks of marriage counseling, all was well. I agreed to marry the women.

This is a crucial point, and worth pondering for a moment longer. I am proud to be ordained by the United Church of Christ and the Disciples of Christ, as both of these denominations have been at the forefront of supporting LGBT issues, be it the ordination of gay clergy or the right for homosexual couples to marry. Support, however, does not translate in our faith communities into special treatment. Marriage equality is just that: equality. Despite some of the inflammatory and fear-mongering rhetoric that swirls around this contentious issue, gays and lesbians can't expect, and shouldn't get, an express pass to the marriage altar.

Here's a funny story. Later that distant summer, an older woman friend, she was probably 75, asked me if it was true I had married two men. said, "Oh no, that's not true at all!" She looked immensely relieved -- at least she did until I added, "I married two women." Well, she hesitated for a moment, staring at me. Then the woman smiled and jerked up her palm to give me a high five. On the spot, she changed her mind. She was open to the new normal.

Alas, not everything worked out quite this happily ever after. I'm sorry to report that this first same-sex marriage I oversaw did not last. The couple ended up separating and eventually dissolved their bond.

Two decades on, I look forward to an even "newer" normal, when I'll watch reports and hear tell of the many hopefuls (Reuters has estimated 66,000 gay couples will marry in New York state in the next three years) who will begin lining up on July 25. Again, though, let's remember that homosexuals are no different -- not worse, not better -- than straight couples, in that their legal unions are just as apt to succumb to pressures and problems and just as likely to result in divorce. Sadly, that's just how it is.

My hope, however, is that churches will continue to be places where guidance is offered and support given to couples as they struggle through difficulties. Our task as clergy is not to marry everyone who asks. Our calling is to provide honest and caring direction to couples who seek to embark on that awesome task of binding their hearts and minds together.

The end of any marriage -- including, I might add, the unraveling of my own -- does not lessen my commitment to the idea of holy matrimony.

On the contrary. If the church is to have any relevance in our lives, it must be a place that every single day celebrates and nurtures love of all kinds, yet consoles and forgives everyone whose love falters or fails.

That's marriage equality.

Dr. Serene Jones is the first female President of Union Theological Seminary.

Equal Pray for Women

2011-03-14T21:58:53-04:00

March is National Women's History Month, and the theme for 2011 is "Our History is Our Strength."

Let's take a moment, then, to celebrate achievements of the last century -- or, since American women got the right to vote in 1920. Almost everywhere you look, women are doing work and assuming leadership positions -- in education, business, health professions, the arts, and public service -- that would have been unimaginable even a few decades ago. As any parent knows, hoping for a better future is crucial to creating it. So, I'm happy to agree with Barack Obama, who recently wrote, "Only if we teach our daughters that no obstacle is too great for them, that no ceiling can block their ascent, will we inspire them to reach for their highest aspirations and achieve true equality."

Hooray and Hallelujah! All this is well worth celebrating.

Imagine, however, if National Women's History Month's motto for 2011 was tweaked slightly to read, "Our Religious History is our Strength." Would there be as much to rejoice about? I'm afraid not.

The statistics on women's religious leadership in present-day America are dismal. While there are increasing numbers of Protestant and Jewish communities that recognize women's equality, the vast majority of Christians, Jews, and Muslims in the United States worship in denominations and congregations that categorically deny women's access to top-level, ordained positions. What's especially disheartening is that the sexism found in these religious communities is not as subtle as what's now found in the public sphere. On the contrary, it is shouted from the rooftop and proclaimed from the pulpit. There's no embarrassment about it, no promise of change, no pretense of re-thinking this position. Instead, the "Women Need Not Apply" sign flashes in neon lights. It's God's will.

Faith systems are often the source of our core-truths and provide our moral compass. Given that most Americans consider themselves religious, what does it mean that women's perceived inferiority is still a central theme in many worship services? How can we expect our nation to honor basic principles of equality in public life when that's not what people are taught to believe in church?

This is especially disheartening when we consider who is actually doing the day-to-day work of running most faith-based communities. For centuries, it's primarily been women who keep the account books, dust the pews, visit the sick, teach theology to the young, support those in need, care for the sick and dying. In fact, if it weren't for women's work as subterranean ecclesiastical leaders, our churches, synagogues, and mosques would probably not exist. And yet they are barred from ordination.

There's much to puzzle over here. Why is it that some Christians have no problem imagining Sarah Palin running for the highest office in America, but would never allow her to pull on a long black robe and put her consecrating hands on communion bread and wine? Why is it that Secretary of State Hillary Clinton can manage the massive complexity of foreign relations, but would be prevented from stepping into many pulpits located in the country she represents? As a female theologian, I sometimes joke that if the first half of my life was spent in seeking equal pay, the second half will be seeking equal pray. And I firmly believe that until we have the pray part settled, the pay part will remain far too fragile a gain.

It's not all bad news, however. I grew up in a denomination, the Disciples of Christ, that started ordaining women in the 1800's. Today, fully a third of the students in seminaries in the United States are women; even in denominations that won't ordain them, women still are filling classrooms and receiving degrees. Add to this that, historically, forward motion on social problems in America such as poverty, slavery, the displacement of Native-Americans, and legalized hatred of gays and lesbians, have been fueled by the efforts of not only women, but openly and happily religious women. In fact, there would not have been a women's movement in the U.S. without them. Think of Elizabeth Cady Stanton who in 1895 co-authored The Woman's Bible, or The Rev. Dr. Ella P. Mitchell, who was one of the first African-American women to graduate from Union Theology Seminary, back in 1943. Dr. Mitchell often cited in favor of women's ordination a passage from Joel 2, verse 28, which says, "I will pour out my spirit on all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophecy."

Thinking of what this means -- the spirit poured out on "all flesh" -- I come back to what's traditionally been considered women's work: namely, keeping a safe home, taking seriously the human need for beauty and affection, and nurturing the next generation. Is the worry that if women final attain equality with men in church leadership that they will no longer have the time or energy to do these nurturing tasks, too? We have to, all of us, figure out how to place a value on what we most want from our lives. It's not just about women gaining more power by stepping into the pulpit; it's about learning to tell a faith-filled story about what we value most, one that doesn't, at its core, cultivate negative beliefs about gender and sex inequality. So, yes, I want more women to climb into the pulpit, but I also hope more men and women alike will discover how marvelous it is to make tomato sauce, soothe a fevered brow, or listen to the bedtime prayers of their children.

Only when men and women both understand the importance of "women's work," will women and men, together, be able to truly claim equal pray time -- at the bedside and behind the alter.

Marriage Vows are Non-Sense: Valentine's Day Thoughts on the Making and Breaking of Marriage Vows

2011-02-13T17:03:33-05:00

Will you be mine?

This romantic question shivers and quivers around Valentine's Day. If the answer is a fluttery "yes," it's often not long before the happy couple is waltzing down the aisle with a more serious question before them.

Do you promise to have and hold this person, now and forever more?

Who hasn't sat in a wedding and felt a little skeptical when they get to this part? It's almost impossible not to, knowing as we all do that nearly half of the marriages in the United States end in divorce. It makes saying this vow before a congregation and before God a seeming act of self-delusion. Or is it?

As a Christian minister and a divorced person, I have a foot in both camps. I know from personal experience the chances of failure are high. But as a person of faith, I believe these forever-after marriage vows are worth making, despite the fact they no longer make cultural sense. In fact, that's precisely why they matter. They are non-sense, in the best sense of the word.

We live in accelerated times. Gratification is usually instant, and most of our big commitments are fungible and term-limited; our contracts have clear escape clauses -- cell phone agreements, church memberships, apartment leases. Our big purchases -- TV, computer, car -- all have "return if not satisfied" policies attached. There's some wisdom in these practices. Who wants to be stuck with costly possessions that break or stop working or simply become unaffordable.

But there's a hidden cost to this pervasive attitude when it begins to bleed into our relationships. Circulating through our mental calculations about even our most significant relationships is the question -- does this meet my needs and live up to all my expectations? And when the answer is no, we are quick to invoke a mental "return if not satisfied" policy. Don't get me wrong. There's no virtue in surrounding yourself with people who make you miserable or, even worse, harm you. But if expend-ability pervades every inch of your understanding of human relationships, the day will inevitably come when a disturbing, indeed debilitating, reality sinks in. You, too, are expendable. There is nothing more damaging to the human spirit than the fear that when you cease to satisfy, the trash pile beckons.

In such a world, the strange act of sharing marriage vows -- publicly promising to have and to hold forever -- becomes truly counter-cultural. It cuts against our consumer values by attesting to the possibility of commitments that hold no matter what life throws at us -- the possibility of love no matter how many pounds you put on, or jobs you lose or how unsexy your feet start looking. The power of these vows are particularly clear when they are religious vows, because they claim ultimate authority and speak to our deepest aspirations and beliefs. There is something profoundly important about our aspirations as human beings to believe it is possible to say to another person, "I'm going to give it everything I've got, and wed myself for as long as I live to another human being."

That we may end up breaking a vow does not invalidate the importance of making it. After all, we often set unreachable goals to provide a lofty vision for what we hope to attain. Deep in our hearts, none of us truly believe there will ever be -- or at least be any time soon -- absolute justice or peace on earth, yet we keep working towards these ideals as if we did. The fact is, having made a vow, we can sometimes find the strength to stick with something, or someone, we might be tempted to abandon. A vow might give you a sense of the longer view, and the patience not to say, "that's it... I'm outta here!"

That said, it's also important for us to remember that the biggest failure of all can be trying to keep promises that we simply cannot keep. Vows are not about keeping yourself mired in patterns of destruction. Vows are not devised to break and reduce us. On the contrary, it is precisely because they are about engaging our highest aspirations that we sometimes have to break them.

If there is nothing but misery remaining in a relationship, you are not helping yourself, you are not helping anyone, by maintaining your marriage vows. Two miserable people do not one happy God make.

All these religious vows matter because they give us just the faintest glimpse of the only vow that never breaks: the vow God makes to love the world. God doesn't say, "I will love you if you are good." God doesn't say, "I will love you if you don't get depressed, don't gain weight, don't have an affair." God puts no conditions on love at all. God loves us, no matter what. If we are capable of aspiring to the unconditional value of human life, it is because of this vow, the one without which our lives would have no meaning, the one in which no failure is possible.

It's a vow that, this Valentine's Day, makes the most beautiful non-sense imaginable.

The Shifting Sands of Divorce and the Rock-Solid Foundation of God's Love

2010-07-29T07:22:25-04:00

Editor's Note: Huffington Post Religion has launched a scripture commentary series, which will bring together leading voices from different religious traditions to offer their wisdom on selected religious texts. Next month we will have Muslim commentaries for Ramadan, and in September Jewish commentaries for the High Holidays. Each day this week we will have commentaries on the Gospel featuring reflections by Rev. Jim Wallis, Dr. Serene Jones, Dr. Emilie Townes, Sister Joan Chittister, and Rev. James Martin, S.J. They will all be offering their meditations on the same passage from Matthew 7: 24-27, in which Jesus says:

²⁴Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. ²⁵The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. ²⁶And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. ²⁷The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell -- and great was its fall!

A house built on rock, or atop sand? The metaphor has immediate resonance, even for those unaware that this domestic imagery comes from the Gospel of Matthew. In tumultuous times, we take great comfort from our concrete slabs and steel girders -- not to mention social constructions like marriage vows, legal agreements, bank accounts, or our physical or military might. We trust these "rocks" will keep us high and dry. Or we do, at least, until they fail.

A decade has now passed since the dissolution of a supposedly sure foundation in my life -- an almost 20-year marriage. I'm a typical liberal Christian: I've always believed that "covenant making" was the bedrock of life, regardless of the sexes of the couple swearing their undying love. When I said my wedding vows at age 24, I fully believed my husband and I could keep them till death did us part.

Our inability to do so set off a tremor deep inside me, a crumbling of my foundations. We had built our relationship on our shared faith in God. If this wasn't enough to weather all storms, was there any foundational truth I could stand on? Wasn't everything I thought stable actually sand?

In the throes of my dissolving life, on a particularly hot summer night, I raged aloud at myself and at God. On my knees trying unsuccessfully to squash some ants who'd set up shop at the base of my trash can, I cried out, "Some great Christian I am, huh? I can't keep my marriage together, much less my house clean!"

To my great surprise, I imagined St. Paul was there with me, leaning against the refrigerator door, "You've got this 'sure foundation' stuff wrong, dear heart. No vow you can make will last forever -- not marriage, church membership, or national loyalty. Humans are too fallible, fickle, finite, and fearful to pull it off. The only promise that matters is the one God has made to you -- the vow to love you regardless. Forever. No matter what."

As I began to rebuild my life under the cloud of being a "divorcee," I thought often of how, and why, I'd envisioned St. Paul visiting me on that August evening. Think of the world in all its teeming, quotidian messiness, gently held by a God who promises to never turn away from it no matter what follies we pursue, what havoc we create. My own crumbling foundations were nothing compared to this kind of promise. I began to understand that this was not just a promise God made to me personally, but to the whole world. God will always continue to pour out abundant mercy and grace -- this is the rock-solid foundation.

Does knowing this free us from all responsibility? Hardly. We are still called to keep our promises, to care for our world and for each other. We must try to live pubic and private lives that are based on strong moral conviction. But when stock markets crash, when oil spills into the ocean, when wars spin out of control, and yes, when marriage vows are broken, we do well to remember that God's love is our rock. Knowing this, we'll have the courage to pick ourselves up and try again (and again), because we can rely on something that is unimaginably stronger than the shifting sands of our successes or failures.

Ten years on, I don't regret my divorce, but I still grieve it. But with Paul and Matthew as my witnesses, I know I stand with the world on a firm foundation.

An Open Letter to Glenn Beck: We're Sending You Bibles!

2010-07-19T08:00:00-04:00

Dear Mr. Beck,

Serene Jones here. I'm President of Union Theological Seminary in New York, home of James Cone, the scholar featured on your liberation theology program this week.

I write with exciting news. Bibles are en route to you, even as we speak! Kindly let me explain. On your show, you said that social justice is not in the Bible, anywhere. Oh my, Mr. Beck. At first we were so confused. We couldn't figure out how you could possibly miss this important theme. And then it hit us: maybe you don't have a Bible to read. Let me assure you, this is nothing to be ashamed of. Many people live Bible-less lives. But we want to help out. And so, as I write this, our students are collecting Bibles from across the nation, packing them in boxes, and sending them to your offices. Grandmothers, uncles, children, co-workers -- indeed, Bible-readers from all walks of life have eagerly contributed. They should be arriving early next week, hopefully just in time for your next show. Read them with zeal!

Oh, I almost forgot: we've marked a few of the social justice passages, just in case you can't find them.

But as good as this might sound, that's not all! You express such a fervent desire to interpret the rich faith of the gospels that we have decided to offer you a substantial scholarship to Union for advanced theological studies, should you matriculate. Indeed, a fundraising campaign is already underway to offset the cost of your education. It is true that in your case you may need some remedial study before Master's level work can commence, but we are willing to work with you as you come up to speed with the rest of our student body.

In this regard, may I recommend preparatory summer readings? Have you heard of John Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion or Reinhold Niebuhr's Nature and Destiny of Man? Both are Caucasian men -- not that it matters -- and they have lovely discussions of religion and politics. You'll just eat them up!

And now a final piece of good news. Your show has clearly stirred renewed interest in liberation theology and in the work of our esteemed faculty. Our own media department works tirelessly to promote their many books and articles. Somewhat embarrassingly, I have to admit that in all these years, we have never achieved a video campaign comparable to the exposure achieved by your own video segment's showing. We were astounded to see so many people hearing about the work of our seminary. In recognition of this free publicity, we want to offer you a reduced housing rate on our campus if you enroll as a student.

Do write soon so that we can discuss the terms of your application, scholarship, and housing. And let us know when you receive the Bibles -- especially if we can further assist you in any way with your reading and study.

We anxiously await your reply. In the meantime, please enjoy this video compilation of welcomes from our students:

Graciously yours,

Serene Jones
President
Union Theological Seminary

Worst Expectations: Motherhood Lost

2010-05-07T14:32:00-04:00

This Sunday morning, my daughter will make her annual bedside delivery of a "For Mom" greeting card. What fun to guess what sort of handwritten promises she might include: an always-clean bedroom, perhaps, or 365 kisses? Whatever she says or does, I know I'll give her a big hug, and get misty-eyed.

Fifteen years ago, however, my tears were bitter. In fact, I woke up on Mother's Day of 1995 and couldn't get out of bed. I hated the thought of motherhood. In fact, I probably hated all mothers.

My wretched state back then had nothing to do with my own mother. Rather, it was caused by a feeling of personal failure, and a sense that my own body had betrayed me. Only four days earlier I had miscarried a much-wanted, seventeen-week pregnancy. Just as I'd begun to grasp and even revel in the reality of new life, this thrilling possibility ended. Suddenly, I wasn't "expecting" anymore. The grief felt unbearable.

What I didn't know then was how vast a sisterhood I was joining. According to The American Society for Reproductive Medicine, 25 percent of U.S. women will experience a miscarriage during their childbearing years, and one in 80 pregnancies ends in a stillbirth. (These statistics do not include abortions.) In addition, an estimated 6.1 million American women are presently experiencing some form of infertility. It's my guess, however, that very few churches, synagogues, mosques or other places of worship will mention these sobering facts as they celebrate Mother's Day. And, due to this silence, many women will grieve alone, feeling uninvited to the party.

Don't get me wrong. It's good that our society takes a day to honor mothers. I truly believe there's no more difficult or demanding a job than the work of day-to-day parenting, yet no form of employment is so taken for granted. Go ahead and cheer dear old Mom, loud and long! But, in the midst of the ballyhoo, take some time, too, to remember your cousin in Houston whose fertility treatments are failing, your next-door neighbor who had a stillbirth three years ago, or your grandmother who lost a child but could never bring herself to tell anyone about it. For all these women, their hoped-for child comes regularly to mind, and each one will cry on May 9th in a way that surprises her.

Because loss-of-motherhood is a suffering like no other. By the time I miscarried, I'd had my fair share of disappointment. There were failed relationships, the death of one dear friend to AIDS, another to a car accident, and a few of my cherished life goals had already slipped from my grasp. But none of this pain prepared me for the feeling of utter helplessness that came about when my pregnancy ended.

In those seventeen weeks, I envisioned my baby's hair color, her first day at school, his college graduation, her middle-aged years, and even his presence at my funeral. Being pregnant overwhelmed my imagination with a wide, mysterious future stretching out ahead. Then, without warning, that future disappeared. I was a puddle of lost hopes.

Imagine Mother's Day for someone in this state. Every beatifically smiling mother's face made me feel sour. And jealous. Why should she get a child and not me? All those cheery reminders ("Don't Forget Mom!") In the newspaper, or on posters in the supermarket and drugstore, made me want to grow claws and draw blood. I was ashamed of these feelings, but I couldn't help myself.

In the end, the only thing that gradually eased my pain was hearing the stories of other women who were bereaved. In that first month after my miscarriage, a trickle of information gradually turned into a stream. Soon enough, almost every woman I talked to whispered to me her own version of my story.

As I returned to my theological studies, I also began to see how the pain of lost motherhood is experienced by various faith traditions. In Judaism, Rachel weeps for the lost children; they are no more. In Christianity, depictions of Mary cradling the body of her dead son are more prevalent than those of her peering into the manger. Buddhists speak of the pained empty vessel of maternal loss; Native American religions have a barren mother at the center of their most precious rituals. The list goes on. By these sacred images, we're reminded that the strength of a community rests as much in its capacity to grieve as it does in its capacity to celebrate.

So, this Mother's Day, I am sure I'll weep a little bit as my daughter hands me her card. In the midst of this joy, though, there will be tears of compassion, too, for women all across America who are mourning. To them, let's remember to say, "You are not alone." We honor you, too.

Serene Jones is the author of Trauma and Grace: Theology in a Ruptured World, which explores the relationship between grace, redemption, and the trauma of reproductive loss.

Not Throwing Stones: A Protestant Remembers The Best Of The Catholic Church

2010-03-30T17:34:47-04:00

As a Protestant, and as the President of a seminary known for its commitment to progressive theology, my reaction is deeply divided about the sexual abuse crisis that is currently shaking the Roman Catholic Church in Europe and the United States. Watching the disturbing details of cover-ups by clergy -- even those at the highest levels -- unfold during Holy Week, of all times, I can't decide whether to cry out in despair or be ever-so-slightly optimistic that real changes may result from this tragedy. Most days, I feel both.

Tears come easily when I think of the abuse and the horrifying realization that some within the church clearly believe that protecting priests is more important than safeguarding children. When I think of Jesus suffering during Holy Week, it is the broken bodies of children, betrayed by their own religious leaders, that come to mind. They bear the crosses of the church's abuses of power.

That said, I also weep because this latest sex scandal adds to our distrust of religious leadership in general and keeps us from remembering all the good work the Roman Catholic church does for the poor, hungry, and homeless, and has done for many decades. I am personally indebted to countless nuns and priests I've encountered over the years, who patiently taught me what it means to "stand with the least of these." In the twentieth century, especially, it was Roman Catholics rather than liberal, so-called "Main Line" Protestants who more often found spiritual grounds for social justice.

I think of Dorothy Day and the Catholic Worker Movement that began during the depths of the Great Depression, and which continues today to give care and comfort to the forsaken. I think of Thomas Merton and his outspoken protest of the Vietnam War. I think of the Catholic bishops who stood side by side with César Chávez in his fight for justice among the farm workers of California's Central Valley. I think of Archbishop Óscar Romero and the struggles of San Salvador. And I think of blighted neighborhoods across America where all-but-ignored nuns, priests, and committed laypeople offer hope to the nearly hopeless through soup kitchens, schools, and community centers. For them, and for energetic Catholic women I work with and teach -- so unjustly banned from a priesthood that sorely needs them -- the importance of justice-making always exceeds the importance of collars and confessions.

Tragedies come and go; issues like labor and immigration burn bright in the public consciousness for a time and then are forgotten. Long after the rest of the world has moved on, however, often enough the Catholic Church alone continues to affirm economic justice, offer a moral critique of capitalism, and, most importantly, insist that a radical love of the powerless and marginalized is the truest form of faith.

All this makes these latest reports of priests molesting children -- and getting away with it -- that much more upsetting. Will the faithful work done by so many Catholics be overshadowed by a church hierarchy that goes on the defensive when questioned about cover-ups and complicity? I pray this will not be the case. I also pray that the church might change for the better as a result of these terrible discoveries. And I pray, too, for the deep, ongoing grief -- indeed, belly-wrenching lamentation -- suffered by so many everyday Catholics who feel betrayed by their own leadership.

Yes, I am shocked, angered, and saddened by these latest allegations. But I'm also slightly relieved to think that we may finally have come to the end of the line. How much higher up can a scandal go, after all, than implicating those standing at the very top? And, I breathe a bit easier in anticipation that a chastening bright light may be about to shine into previously impenetrable realms of the Roman Catholic hierarchy.

As a Protestant, I refuse to throw self-righteous stones against Catholics. Disregard for public accountability is dangerous, in any form. It is not only in politics that power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. No church is immune. No person is.

The Catholicism I cherish -- and the Catholicism that the world so desperately needs -- is one that models an unguarded honesty about human failing, a gentleness of spirit that welcomes criticism, and a determination to hold all people, no matter their station, accountable for their actions.

This is the lesson of Holy Week, and it is one that Christians all -- bishops, popes, and pew-sitters alike -- would do well to consider carefully in the days ahead.

Marriage Equality Is a Theological Necessity

2009-06-09T11:34:15-04:00

New York - As people of faith and leaders of religious institutions in New York City, we support ending the exclusion of our gay brothers and sisters from civil marriage. Opponents of marriage equality too often attempt to use arguments about religion to denounce equal civil marriage laws. As Christians, we believe it is crucial for us to support the freedom to marry for loving and committed gay couples. In fact, we believe it is a theological necessity, and we call on our state legislators to take action to end inequality now.

Our support for marriage equality is motivated by our religious commitments, not in spite of them. Our Christian faith teaches us the uncompromising, unconditional love of God for all people. Bound together by that love we are all deserving of dignity, equality, and justice. But, because of our belief in the universal capacity to sin, we are suspicious of merely private efforts to enshrine equality, recognizing that all people and all groups are susceptible to prejudice, error, and mistreatment of and by others. Children of the Protestant Reformations, we believe that the state exists to uphold absolute and unequivocal equality under the law for all persons. As religious communities continue to wrestle with interpretation of sacred texts about the meaning and ordinance of marriage, our gay brothers and sisters deserve the same dignity, respect, and protections under the law as different sex couples receive in our state and our country.

Marriage equality and religious freedom are not in conflict. When states grant the civil rights of marriage to gay couples, religious communities still maintain their right to recognize whichever relationships they see fit as a religious community. We believe that debates about the meaning of Christian marriage can only take place honestly when the state provides equality and fairness for all. This is all the more true because there is no one Christian position about marriage: many different interpretations exist within our traditions, and it is a challenging task within Christian communities to discern our way forward despite theological differences. While we welcome theological discussion about the religious understanding of marriage, we insist on full, equal civil rights for all couples who wish to share their lives in committed and loving relationships with one another.

Imagine, on any given day, couples from myriad faith traditions entering churches, synagogues, mosques, temples, even beaches and backyards to wed with the blessing and rituals of their religious communities -- but the legal contracts that bind them by the power of the state all look the same. In a land of true equality, civil marriage contracts must be open to all loving couples who seek to undertake the promises and responsibilities of life-long partnership.

The dedication to upholding religious freedom through civil equality was reaffirmed in the Iowa Supreme Court's decision which ended marriage discrimination against gay couples in Iowa. The ruling stated, "[W]e give respect to the views of all Iowans on the issue of same-sex marriage -- religious or otherwise -- by giving respect to our constitutional principles....The sanctity of all religious marriages celebrated in the future will have the same meaning as those celebrated in the past. The only difference is civil marriage will now take on a new meaning that reflects a more complete understanding of equal protection of the law. This result is what our constitution requires."

We've also learned from nearly five years of marriage equality in Massachusetts that religious freedoms are not endangered because civil equality has been upheld. In Massachusetts the institution of marriage is being strengthened by loving and committed gay couples receiving marriage licenses from the state. At the time of this writing, Iowa, Connecticut, Vermont, and Maine have joined Massachusetts in ending marriage discrimination against gay couples. It is time for New York to take action and support marriage equality.

As ministers and people of faith, we call on the legislative leaders of New York to decisively end marriage discrimination in our state. We call too on our fellow Christians to engage in robust theological discussion within our communities about the meaning, value, and role of Christian marriage without resorting to tactics of fear-mongering and civil disputes.

We stand with our legislators as people of faith in support of fairness for all families. Attacks will come, cloaked in the language of religion, from those who oppose equality. But speaking as committed Christian leaders in New York, we support the promise of civil freedom and equality. We cannot abandon civil rights protected by the state without endangering the very ground for religious freedom. Ending the exclusion of gay couples from marriage will strengthen families and provide loving, committed couples with the full equality under the law that our faith teaches us is requisite for any just society. As people of faith we call for full marriage equality and give thanks to God for the civil government that will allow it.