My pastor and I have a friendly tiff going on.   He says that Jesus was strictly a-political; therefore Christians should abstain from politics completely. I say that Jesus challenged violent, poverty-inducing, socio-political structures throughout his life and ministry; therefore Christians have a duty to advocate for peace and to speak out for the poor and the oppressed.  Both of us are hardheaded, and neither of us cedes much in our debates, but we always walk away as friends, because at the end of the day there’s a key component to the discussion that we both agree on: The Bible is not a public policy manual!

 I realize that might feel like an outrageous statement to some. After all, the first five books of the Bible are commonly referred to as the “Books of the Law.”  These books contain legal codes that governed the every-day life of the ancient children of Israel, ranging from personal hygiene to how to prosecute thieves and murderers. Furthermore, the Hebrew prophets railed against the kings of their day for making “unjust laws” and “oppressive decrees” (Isaiah 10:1), implying that there is such a thing as an unjust law—and woe to the legislators who write them!

Over and over the Scriptures reveal a God who cares deeply about the poor, the widow, the orphan, and the alien, yet strangely the man who Christians believe embodies the will of God in action (Jesus) refused to take sides in the bitter partisan divisions of His day.  Jesus welcomed both zealots and tax collectors as members of his inner circle. And when two brothers asked Jesus to solve an inheritance dispute, He responded by saying, “Man, who made me a judge or arbitrator over you?” (Luke 12:14).   If Jesus intended his followers to establish themselves as the moral guardians of society, He had a funny way of showing it.

The pattern continues with the Apostle Paul.  The indisputable case for followers of Jesus not involving themselves in judging those outside the Church comes from a passage in I Corinthians 5:12-13, where Paul says, “ What business is it of mine to judge those outside the Church? Are you not to judge those inside? God will judge those outside.” Paul clearly established a demarcation between Christians judging matters within the community of believers (allowed) and matters outside the community of believers (not allowed). At the very least, this suggests that Christians who think they can impose what they perceive as “Biblical values” on secular society are—more often than not— wrong. There’s simply no way to translate the Bible into concrete public policy, at least not without a considerable degree of ambiguity.

For example, most of my conservative friends are convinced that they have a Biblical mandate to outlaw abortion and gay marriage, even though abortion is only mentioned once in Scripture, and the reference is—oddly—the Prophet Jeremiah cursing the man at his mother’s side for not aborting him! (Jeremiah 20:14-18)…and gay marriage was hardly an issue on the radar in Biblical times. The Laws of Leviticus prescribe a massive redistribution of wealth every 50 years by canceling people’s debts and restoring property to original owners, yet many Christians are convinced—right or wrong— that justice for the poor is a matter of individual charity alone, and that anyone who suggests otherwise is duped by the devil. And while we’re talking about what’s Biblical and what’s not Biblical, why isn’t anyone suggesting that America as a nation love its enemies and turn the other cheek?

Come to think of it, maybe my pastor is right for refusing to use the power of the pulpit to trumpet a political agenda. I live in San Juan County, New Mexico, a place where the average evangelical pastor is about 20 degrees to the right of Rush Limbaugh, yet at Sunrise Christian Church; I’ve never heard a sermon that could be misconstrued as a cleverly disguised political endorsement—and the congregation is better off for it.

Because my pastor refuses to drag the church into the bitter divides of the culture war, there exists a wide diversity of political and theological persuasions within the congregation.  People can walk into church and feel genuinely welcomed as they are, without having to conform to some mind-numbing group think. As a member of the worship team, I look out into the congregation every Sunday and see people with vastly different political, cultural, and theological beliefs, all worshiping God. It’s refreshing! 

Pastor David, even though I tease you with my Talking Tom app, telling you that neutrality always benefits the oppressor and never the oppressed, the reality is I’m glad that you’ve created an atmosphere at the church where nothing is more important than Jesus Christ and him crucified. As you know, my wife and I and our two boys are moving to Albuquerque this year. Thank you for being there when we needed it the most.

We’re really going to miss you. 

The term evangelical Christian and I share a love/hate relationship.

On the one hand, I believe in the good news of Jesus’ death and resurrection and desire to share the implications of this news with others. The problem is that for most people in America, the term evangelical Christian is loaded with political undertones, so unless I’m in a situation where calling myself an evangelical Christian gives me greater influence to work towards peace and justice in the political sphere, I usually drop the evangelical part, except when I’m in Muslim countries where the word Christian means “people that drink, party, and fornicate.”

I’ve also tried calling myself a “follower of Jesus”, but most of the time I’m not very good at following Jesus, so now I’m thinking I should just say, “My name is Aaron Taylor….And I’m a guy trying to follow Jesus.”

How’s that for a business card?

As a guy trying to follow Jesus, the four gospels are like earth, wind, fire, and water. My spiritual life would be non-existent without them.

I’d have a hard time choosing a favorite between Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, but if I absolutely had to choose; I’d choose Luke. Had it not been for Luke, terms like the “good Samaritan” and the “prodigal son” would have never made it into popular culture.

In Luke are also found the two- to- three verse stories that often get over looked. Stories such as this one:

“Now John answered and said, “Master, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we forbade him because he does not follow with us.” But Jesus said to him, “Do not forbid him, for he who is not against us is on our side.”  (Luke 9:49-50)

It would be easy to look at this story and condemn John for his narrow-mindedness, but let’s look at things from John’s perspective. Jesus had already handpicked his 12 disciples at this point, and this guy wasn’t one of them.

Who does this guy think he is, casting out demons in Jesus name without bothering to get his permission first? I mean, didn’t Jesus make it clear that his organization had a chain of command that people had to go through to get to him?

In John’s mind, the power structure that Jesus had ordained looked something like this:

Jesus
The 12 Apostles
Everyone else

Excuse me Mr. Demon-caster-outer, but if you want to be in Jesus’ in crowd, you have to go through us. We’re the true followers of Jesus. So either move aside, or join our group. Those are your two options. You’re either with us or against us….Because Jesus is one of us.

Except that Jesus isn’t.

Fast-forward a couple thousand years and my how things have not changed! We still have thousands of groups claiming that they’re the true followers of Jesus.

Growing up charismatic, I knew that the Baptists weren’t as spiritual as we were because they didn’t speak in tongues, just like the Baptists knew that most Catholics probably aren’t saved because they’ve never prayed the “sinner’s prayer.”

Some groups believe that a Christian can serve in the military; others believe that Jesus categorically rejects violence in every circumstance. Some Christians are gay-affirming; others are … well, obviously not.

With all the different groups out there claiming to follow Jesus, how do we know which ones Jesus would claim as his own?

Is it possible that Jesus would claim both liturgical Christians and free-wheeling holy roller Christians?

What about liberal Christians and conservative Christians? Is the tent that Jesus pitches big enough to include people like Dorothy Day and Jerry Falwell?

I’m 33 years old, and I’ve been following Jesus — or should I say trying to follow Jesus — for as long as I can remember. If there’s one thing that I’ve learned after all these years, it’s that as soon as I think that my friends and I have a corner on Jesus, Jesus reminds me that He’s bigger than any organization, doctrine, or philosophical system that I can wrap my brain around.

The more that I follow Jesus, the bigger my world should get.

I think that’s what Jesus was trying to tell John. Jesus is fine with his followers gathering together into groups of like-minded believers helping each other along in their spiritual journeys. That’s necessary and good. The problem is when groups of people claim Jesus as their exclusive possession, as if any one group has a monopoly on Jesus. That’s called sectarianism, and Jesus explicitly forbids it.

If I can’t see Jesus at work in the lives of people that don’t look, talk, or think the way that I do, then I’m the one with the problem, not Jesus. I don’t own Jesus.

The question is: Does Jesus own me?

Perhaps you’ve heard of them. Televangelists with bouffant hairstyles and Rolex watches saying send me a dollar and God will give you a hundred, women with gaudy make-up, and the ever-famous “Be healed in the name of Jeeeee-sus” while pushing people to the ground. These are the excesses that come to mind when the average Christian thinks of the “Word of Faith” movement. I’ve been writing progressive evangelical articles for about a year now on the Sojourners website, but I think it’s time for me to come out of the closet. Not only was I raised in a Word of Faith church; one of the most profound intellectual influences on my life is a female Word of Faith teacher.

I met Dianne Kannady when I was a student in public high school. Dianne was a history teacher and I was the high school evangelist. I started a prayer club and Dianne was kind enough to be the host. It didn’t take me long to figure out that Dianne knew a lot more about Scripture than I did, so I went to her with all of my questions. After I graduated from high school, I started attending her Friday night Bible studies at a church near downtown St. Louis. I also started listening to her daily radio program and for several years met with her on numerous occasions to discuss theology—often for hours on end.

I realize that some people may write Dianne off because of the dreaded words “Word of Faith” but before you do, let me tell you what I learned from Dianne. The first thing I learned from Dianne is that the Bible is progressive revelation and that it should be interpreted through the lens of Jesus (ring a bell Anabaptists?). I also learned that through Christ’s death and resurrection, I’ve been given “everything that pertains to life and godliness” (2 Peter 1:3), “been made a partaker of the divine nature” (Vs 4), I’ve been “seated with Christ Jesus in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 2:6) and that Christ is my “wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption” (I Corinthians 1:30). I learned that there are unseen realities all around us and that God’s Word spoken on the lips of faith has limitless power to change what we see and feel. Perhaps most importantly, I learned that love isn’t merely an attribute of God. It’s who God is.

I would have a hard time identifying with the Word of Faith movement today. For one thing, the Word of Faith movement, and modern day Pentecostalism in general, has some pretty huge blind spots. To the average Word of Faith practitioner, the definition of living like Jesus is limited to healing the sick, casting out demons, and saving souls. It has very little to do with practicing non-violence and challenging institutional structures that perpetuate inequality.

Having said that, I often wonder if the emergent /progressive evangelical movement will have the same staying power as the faith that Dianne teaches. If there’s one thing that remains consistent about all of the Word of Faith practitioners that I know, it’s a deep appreciation for the work of Christ on the cross, and an unshakable conviction that the benefits of the cross—be it eternal life, healing, victory over sin—are appropriated by personal faith. While Dianne is hardly a fundamentalist, you won’t find Dianne wishy-washy on issues like the Virgin Birth, the Incarnation, the Deity of Christ, the atonement, or salvation by grace through faith.

Liberation theologians may have a preferential option for the poor, but I hate to be the bearer of bad news for liberation theologians, if we look at the kind of Christianity exploding in the global south, it appears that the poor have a preferential option for Pentecostalism. Emergent groups may congratulate themselves on their intellectual ability to “deconstruct” the Bible in the light of postmodernism, but we’ll see how long that lasts. Because unless a theological movement can bring God from the head to the gut, it runs the risk of having a form of godliness, but denying it’s power. It may save social security, but will it save Sally?

Question: Hey, I did have a question for your blog if it hasn't been addressed before. The questions is about birth control. I was just wondering if you could make a biblical case for or against (or neither?) Christians using standard birth control pills. Do you have any personal convictions about this?

Answer: Thank you for the question. Some Christians will say that God forbids birth control based on His command to Adam and Eve to "Be fruitful and multiply" (Genesis 1:28). I think this is a weak argument though. The question that needs to be asked here is does God intend for all human beings to carry out the mandate to "Be fruitful and multiply" or was this a specific mandate to Adam and Eve? It seems to me that it would make sense for God to give this mandate to the parents of humanity since humanity as we know it was just getting started. Given that the earth is already well populated (some would say overpopulated)it makes very little sense for this commandment to be applied across the board today.

Furthermore, if God did in fact intend for all married couples to procreate without end, then what was the Apostle Paul thinking when He wrote, "But this I say brethren, the time is short, so that from now on even those who have wives should be as though they have none" (I Corinthians 7:29)?

Even if you argue that God's mandate to Adam and Eve extended to the rest of humanity, it still doesn't follow that birth control is outlawed. God was laying out a general principle here. He never specified how many children a couple should have, and neither does He give a negative command against people limited the number of children they would like to have. Christians make big mistakes when they turn principles into laws. Think about what Jesus said about David eating the show bread in the tabernacle, which wasn't lawful to eat except for the priests (Mark 2:25-27). Jesus clearly taught that human need takes precedence over the letter of the law. In light of this, I can't imagine Jesus approving of husbands that put their wives health, and in some cases their lives at risk, because of some legalistic adherence to an ambiguous command.

Having said that, I also think some people go too far the other way, looking down on couples that have too many children, according to what they think is too many. An old high school friend of mine wrote on her face book that some of her co-workers are criticizing her for considering to have another child (I believe she has three children). I think that should be a decision between her and her husband, not her and her co-workers. As a general rule, I think that couples should plan the amount of children based on what they can reasonably provide and care for. That number is different for everybody. When it comes to gray areas in the Bible, I think that Christians would be wise to remember the words of the Apostle Paul, "Who are you to judge another man's servant?" (Romans 14:4)

I hope this helps!

Ever since the crash of 2008, I've found myself doing a lot of soul searching. At first, like most people, I had no idea what the crash was about. Who caused it? What political party is to blame? And, for Pete's sake, what in the world is a credit default swap? I still have more questions than answers, but now that I've had some time to think, and after reading Jim Wallis's book "Rediscovering Values", I'm reminded of a success seminar I attended a few years back in St. Louis, Missouri.

The stadium event was packed with wannabe millionaires. The line of speakers was nothing short of astounding. Colin Powell, Suze Orman, Steve Forbes, Zig Ziglar, George Foreman, a real estate mogul, a wealthy stock trader, and Peter Lowe--the godfather of success. As impressive as the line of speakers was, it's the wealthy stock trader that I can't get out of my mind. To show how easy it is to get rich off the stock market, the man invited a woman from the audience to read a chart designed to aid the would be investor to know when to buy and sell. Whenever there were three green arrows pointing upward, the woman would shout "buy!" When the same stock had three red arrows pointing downward, the woman would shout "sell!" According to the chart, the woman would have made a hefty profit in a short period of time if she had invested real money.

After the wealthy stock trader pitched his course on how to get rich off the stock market, Peter Lowe gave a power point gospel presentation designed to convince the audience of their need for a Savior. The presentation showed clearly that all of us are sinners and that no amount of good works or personal efforts can reconcile sinful people before a holy and righteous God. It also showed that Jesus is the bridge between God and people. Since the event wasn't billed as a Christian event, there was no altar call that day. But the content of Lowe's message could have easily been given by Billy Graham. So why am I looking back at the event as something less than Christ-honoring? Ordinarily I'd be thrilled that so many people had a chance to hear the gospel in one sitting. Has my evangelistic zeal diminished over the past few years? I certainly hope not.

Here's what's bothering me. What does it say about the state of American Christianity, and the classic evangelical gospel that's been the standard for decades now, when the message of Jesus dying on the cross for our sins can be inserted into the middle of a how-to-get-rich seminar? K.P. Yohannan in his book "Revolution in World Missions" puts it this way: "Christian magazines, TV shows, and church services often put the spotlight on famous athletes, beauty queens, businessmen, and politicians who 'make it in this world and have Jesus too!'"

To be fair to Mr. Lowe, the day wasn't only about getting rich. There were many great speakers talking about worthy topics. Perhaps I'm a little bitter because I did attend the stock trader's seminar--and paid handsomely for it. Not surprisingly, I didn't become a wealthy stock trader. I couldn't find the motivation. Looking back on it, I'm glad I didn't. At the time it didn't cross my mind that some of these companies that were mere numbers on a chart could have been either a:) propping up dictators overseas b:) harming the environment c:) paying substandard wages to their employees or d:) exploiting third world farmers.

If there's anything that the economic crisis has taught us, it's that economies--and I would add individuals--that base their life blood on speculative financing, absent of actual labor, may gain the world in the short run, but a day of reckoning will eventually come. I wonder what Amos, Isaiah, and Micah would say about a gospel that promises eternal life in the world to come and a life of wealth and "success" in the here and now? More importantly, I wonder what Jesus would say about it?

As a career missionary to Africa, I fear what would happen to me on judgment day if I didn't speak out against what is happening in Uganda right now in the name of Christ. I was in the middle of typing my monthly newsletter when I decided to check my e-mail. The subject line read, "Pastor Rick Warren condemns Uganda anti-homosexuality bill." Hurray for Rick Warren, but my question is where's everyone else? Christian Right leaders in the U.S. are constantly griping that the media portrays them as bigoted towards homosexuals. Well Mr. Dobson and Mr. Sekulow, now would be a perfect time to prove them wrong. I'm still waiting for my urgent action e-mail.

I'm not talking about an issue that falls within the realm of perfectly legitimate political debate—like whether gay marriage should be legal or not. What I'm talking about is a bill that if passed would condemn homosexuals to prison, would give the death penalty for homosexuals with HIV, and would criminalize heterosexuals that support gay rights. The bill being considered would actually force heterosexuals to report their gay friends and neighbors to the authorities. I would expect something like this from a group like the Taliban, but from a nation with a vast majority of Christians? Who would have thought? But then again, I'm not sure why I'm surprised.

I'd like to think that American Christian leaders have nothing to do with the direction that Uganda's government is sliding towards, but I know it's not true. For starters, I've been to Uganda and have lived and traveled extensively throughout Africa. Based on my experience, the level of influence that American pastors, evangelists, and missionaries have in predominately Christian countries in Africa is astronomical, especially when you consider how many African churches and ministries are dependent on American support. As difficult as it may be to believe, in most English speaking countries in Africa, American televangelists are like rock stars. The way the average Ugandan feels towards people like T.D. Jakes, Reinhard Bonnke, and Benny Hinn is what the average American feels towards people like—ironically—Bono. If I'm exaggerating, it's only slightly.

Lest I be misunderstood, I'm not suggesting that the above-mentioned leaders are guilty of stoking anti-gay bigotry in Uganda. I use their names only to underscore the fact that, in most cases, American Christian leaders wield a greater influence over the pop-culture in African countries than they do in their own country. Even pastors of small to mid-sized congregations in the U.S. can go to countries like Uganda or Kenya or Nigeria and preach to tens of thousands of people at a time—and maybe even meet with the country's leaders. It happens every day. American Christianity has enormous influence in Africa. With great influence comes great responsibility.

Let's not forget that there was a man about 80 years ago that came to power on the platform of criminalizing consensual gay sex. His name was Hitler. There's a reason why the Apostle Paul said to the Corinthian Church, "For what have I to do with judging those who are outside?" (I Corinthians 5:12) Paul must have known that when Christians try to legislate morality outside the confines of spiritual discipline within the Church, the result is usually an ugly monster that looks nothing like Christ. It's time for American pastors, missionaries, and evangelists, along with our African brothers and sisters declare loudly to the world—not in our name!

Blogging and me share a love/hate relationship. One the one hand, I hate writing articles because often it takes me hours of mental sparring to get to exactly what I want to say. On the other hand, I love the feeling of accomplishment after having written. Yes, I know it's weird, but this is why I only post about once or twice a month. My mental sanity can't take much more.

Over the past few days, however, I've felt a compulsive urge to go to my computer and start typing. Call it a blogging binge if you will. My only justification for this latest binge is the hope that at least a few people will read what I have to say and put themselves through the same agonizing soul searching as I've had to do over these past few days. So if you're ready for some no holds barred gut grabbling heart stopping soul searching, please read on. If not, I'll understand.

It all started a few weeks ago when I read a post by Brian McLaren on the Sojourners blog stating that according to a recent Pew survey, white evangelical Christians are the one group in America the most likely to support torture. This really bothered me. The reason it bothered me—and I'm still unable to let it go even as I write—is not because I don't understand the moral complexities involved in protecting our country. What bothers me is that if the survey is correct, then that means there's something in evangelicalism—more specifically white evangelicalism—that causes people who look like me and think like me to be more prone to violence than others even after all other moral factors are considered. Troubling!

It doesn't stop here. It's come to my attention that Christian soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan have been actively distributing Bibles and attempting to convert Afghanis and Iraqis to Christianity—and now Al Jazeera is blasting footage throughout the Muslim world of Lieutenant Colonel Gary Hensley, the chief military chaplain in Afghanistan, counseling his followers in how to "hunt souls for Jesus" by distributing the New Testament to Afghani civilians as "gifts."

One might ask why I as a Bible believing Christian—and a missionary at that—would be so vehemently opposed to this? I can understand why some might think that I've had a sudden memory loss and forgotten that Jesus told His followers to "Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature." Why in the world would I oppose soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan distributing Bibles to the local population?

Here's why. Imagine our country was invaded by…say a country like Indonesia…a country with a majority population of Muslims. Imagine further that the president of Indonesia called the invasion a "jihad to rid the world of evil"—but then turned around and insisted that the invasion of America was not a war against Christianity and has nothing to do with trying to impose Islam on the American people. Now further imagine that the same invaders that occupy our country and patrol our streets with tanks are also distributing copies of the Koran in English at the local Wal Mart—howbeit with smiles on their faces. How likely is the average American citizen going to buy the story that the invasion of our country had nothing to do with attacking our faith, especially given our knowledge of the long history of Islamic/Christian relations?

Now that I think about it, there is a connection between these two stories. Remember what I just mentioned about the footage of Lieutenant Colonel Gary Hensley counseling his followers to "hunt souls for Jesus?" That took place at the huge military base in Bagram. If you've ever seen Taxi to the Dark Side, then you'll know that Bagram is a place that—at least we know in the past—the U.S. military has used to torture and detain prisoners indefinitely. And by the way, very few of the prisoners—at least initially—were known terrorist suspects. Many of them were handed over to the U.S. military—with little to no evidence against them—by tribal warlords looking for a quick buck.

If this isn't a call to action for Christians to wake up to the reality of the militarization of our faith, then I don't know what is. According to a world public opinion poll taken in five Muslim countries, nearly two/thirds of the respondents said they believe the "war on terror" is an effort by fundamentalist Christians to spread Christianity in the region. Is it really that hard to understand why?

It's time for Christians to wake up and divorce once and for all our faith from all things military. Mixing the Kingdom of America with the Kingdom of God not only does serious damage to our country; it also does serious damage to the integrity of the gospel. Let the missionaries proselytize. Soldiers should stick to doing what they do best. Defending our country—and our constitution.

On the first day of the Obama administration, our newly elected president signed the order to close down Guatanamo. Scores of human rights advocates were in ecstasy. For those of us committed to peace and social justice the words Guatanamo and Abu Ghraib invoke images of shock and horror. How could we as a nation have stooped so low? Where was the outcry from the Body of Christ?

These are crucial questions that we as a nation need to ask ourselves. What happened in Abu Ghraib, Guantanamo and, yes, even Afghanistan—think Taxi to the Dark Side—is a stain on our nation's moral character. But let's be clear about one thing. Much worse crimes have been committed by much worse regimes in the not too distant past. To put it mildly, when you stack the crimes of Dick Cheney against the crimes of Duch, a former Khmer Rouge prison commander, the latter makes the former look more like Dick Van Dyke.

Between 1975-1979, Duch was the director of the Tuol Sleng prison during the horrific era of the Pol Pot regime. Pol Pot's dream was to turn all of Cambodia into an agricultural commune. Under Pol Pot's rule private property, currency, and religion was abolished. Just about anyone associated with the middle to upper class were considered a threat to Pol Pot's communist dream of a poor man's paradise. It's estimated that the Khmer Rouge killed up to two million people during their reign of terror. Nearly 17,000 of those people passed through the Tuol Sleng prison where they were tortured in monstrous ways—before they were marched to the infamous Killing Fields to be executed.

Fast -forward 20 years. In 1999, a British journalist discovered Duch in Northwestern Cambodia. The Duch that he discovered was hardly the same man. By 1999, Duch had converted to Christianity, worked for two Western aid organizations, and even started a house church while in hiding. Today, Duch is on trial for crimes against humanity by a U.N. backed court designed to reconcile the Cambodian nation with its troubled past.

I was in Cambodia last month teaching a seminar to Bible school students, so I got the chance to interact with many Cambodians about their nation's troubled past. It was my fourth time to the nation and, little did I know, the trial of Duch—which is the first official trial of a former Khmer Rouge official—began during my visit. The occasion was truly historic. While it seemed to me that many of the Christians were willing to forgive and put the past behind them, Duch himself has remained an enigma.

There's little doubt that Duch has demonstrated genuine remorse over his past crimes. Unlike the other four defendants (to this day, only five former Khmer Rouge officials have been arrested) Duch has admitted that crimes occurred at the prison under his watch, and yet Duch hasn't made a formal confession of guilt. His reason? He claims that he was forced to do what he did. Had he not followed orders, he would have been killed—or worse.

I have to admit that I'm on the fence about this one. Not that I don't think that Duch should be tried, convicted, and imprisoned up for the rest of his natural life. I do. Neither do I think that fear for one's life justifies torturing 17,000 people and sending them to their deaths. It doesn't. I hope that Duch eventually pleads guilty and makes a formal unqualified apology. What troubles me about Duch's defense isn't that it's absurd, but that there might be a grain of truth in it—even if it still doesn't justify what he did.

Visit the Killing Fields today and the tour guides will tell you that thousands of war criminals are walking the streets of Cambodia with impunity. In fact, former Khmer Rouge officials fill just about every position of the Cambodian government today. They'll also tell you that it's very difficult to prosecute former offenders because many of them were brain-washed adolescents that were forced into what they were doing, much like the child soldiers today in northern Uganda that are forced to do horrific things by the rebel leader Joseph Kony. With so many people forced into the miserable position of having to choose between kill or be killed, it is very difficult to identify who the real perpetrators were—the ones that had a legitimate choice.

To top things off, many scholars postulate that it was the longstanding U.S. bombing campaign of the Cambodian countryside—a campaign that killed tens of thousands of innocent civilians—that drove an impoverished population into the arms of the Khmer Rouge in the first place. How much do you want to bet that there will never be as much as a truth and reconciliation committee on that matter? Given the seriousness of the times, the actions of the U.S. bombers are also understandable—frighteningly understandable. I bet that many of them went on to live productive, healthy, and, yes, even godly lives afterwards.

The Apostle Paul marveled that the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ could save even him, the chief of sinners. In his former life as a religious extremist, Paul had presided over the deaths of countless Christians and yet what he did seems to pale in comparison to what Duch did at the Tuol Sleng prison.

But maybe that's the point. If the grace of Christ isn't sufficient to cover everything—including the worst imaginable sins—how could we be sure it's sufficient to cover anything? As mindboggling as it may be, the truth still remains. "Where sin abounds, grace abounds much more," (Romans 5:20). Whether it's Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld, the guard at Abu Ghraib, or a former Khmer Rouge official, the Biblical record is clear. God's grace abounds even to the chief of torturers.

On behalf of white evangelical Christians everywhere, I'd like to congratulate the black church for a well-deserved victory. The election of Barack Hussein Obama as the first African American president of the United States is a watershed moment not only for America, but also for oppressed people everywhere.

I'm 30 years old, so I wasn't around during the decade of the civil rights movement, but here is what I've heard. At a time when your people were considered less than human by mainstream America, you chose to love your oppressors. You faced the dogs and the fire hoses. You refused to ride in the back seat of buses. You walked into segregated schools with your heads held high. You sang in mass to the tune of "We Shall Overcome"—and overcame you did.

My message to the black church is simple, but urgent. To my fellow black Christians I'd like to say thank you and please. Thank you for winning the struggle for civil rights but please, oh please, do not give up your non-violent heritage that made it possible. In a world where the very presence of nuclear weapons puts the human race in jeopardy, if there ever was a time for the message of non-violence to reclaim its rightful place in American history, that time is now—and you're the ones that can make it happen!

The irony is now that you have a man commanding the most powerful military in the world, the temptation is all too great to forget that, unlike the American revolution where victory came at the barrel of the gun, your victory came not by the power of might, but by the power of right. Your victory is a victory that came not from violence, but from non-violence.

Last year I was struck by the irony of hearing a speech by John McCain praising Dr. King for his life and legacy when, as I recall, it was Dr. King who said, "The greatest purveyor of violence in the world today is my own government." Dr. King was the most vocal critic of U.S. foreign policy in his day and yet how often is he praised for his courage to face down his own government?

This year I'm struck by another irony. In a blog post entitled "The forgotten heart of King's dream," author Greg Boyd points out that every year he and his wife attend the annual Dr. Martin Luther King breakfast. This year the keynote speaker was four- star general Colin Powell. In Powell's speech, he attributed the greatness of America to the greatness of our soldiers throughout history, and even equated soldiers today with Kings call to service. Colin Powell is perhaps one of the most honorable men to ever grace the U.S. military, and of course there are many honorable men and women serving in our armed forces today, but isn't it ironic that a message praising U.S. military might would be given at a service commemorating Dr. Martin Luther King?

All of the evidence from his books, speeches, essays, and sermons suggests that Dr. Martin Luther King believed that violence never achieves lasting solutions. Dr. King taught that non-violent redemptive love is the most powerful force for good in the world—especially when directed towards one's enemies. We all seem to know intuitively that Dr. King changed the world for the better, but few today seem to pay much attention to how he changed the world. Since September 11th, King's values of loving the enemy and turning the other cheek are now viewed as hopelessly naïve by mainstream American culture—including by many in the black church.

As a lifelong member of the Pentecostal/charismatic tradition, I consider the historic shift of much of black Pentecostalism from pro-peace to pro-war to be nothing short of tragic. I have a hunch that the influence of Christian Zionism has a lot to do with this, but regardless of the reason, it's high time for black Pentecostals—and the black church everywhere—to reclaim it's non-violent heritage.

American Christianity as we know it today is in desperate need of a reformation. For the first three hundred years of Christian history, followers of Jesus were thrown to the lions because they renounced the sword and embraced the cross. The vast majority of American Christians today have forgotten this. Who better to remind us than you? The media may mock you. The world may laugh at you. But one thing you can know for sure. If you can once again bring non-violence to the forefront of the American psyche, there's a white boy from Jefferson County Missouri cheering for you every step of the way.

Aaron D. Taylor is the author of "Alone with a Jihadist", scheduled to be released in mid 2009. Aaron can be contacted at fromdeathtolife@gmail.com

A wise man once said, "The first one to plead his cause seems right until his neighbor comes and examines him." That wise man was Solomon and the saying comes from the book of Proverbs, a book respected as the Word of God by both Christians and Jews alike. As an evangelical Christian born and raised in the charismatic movement, I grew up hearing only one side of the Israeli/Palestinian story, primarily the Israeli side. I always assumed that God gave the land to Jews and if the Palestinians don't like it, well, they can sit on a tack, because everyone knows that Palestinians are the devil.

Sunday school songs aside, what's happening in the Gaza strip is serious. That's why we need a grown-up Christian response. Sadly, that's exactly what's lacking in this crucial hour.

So here goes.

I believe that Israel has the right to exist in safe and secure borders. I also believe that Israel has the right to defend itself. I understand the sentiment of President-elect Obama when he says that if rockets were being fired at his home while his two daughters were asleep, he would do everything he could to prevent it. I believe Hamas is a terrorist organization that espouses an ideology diabolically opposed to freedom and progress. I despise the fact that they persecute my brothers and sisters in Christ living under their thumb and, of course, firing rockets indiscriminately at civilians is never justified. Period.

So is Israel justified in their heavy- handed approach towards the citizens of Gaza? Judging by the fire breathing on both sides of the debate, I don't see a consensus on this one coming any time soon. As for my fellow Christians, we can debate the subject until Jesus comes back and the debate will have largely missed the point. Sure Israel may—or may not—be justified in their aerial bombing campaign and subsequent invasion of the Gaza strip, but that question alone shouldn't determine the proper Christian response. Why? Because Christians are called to live by a higher standard than what's merely justifiable.

Jesus would have been completely justified in slaying the bloodthirsty Romans of His day. The crimes that the Romans committed against the Jews were every bit as bad, if not worse, than the crimes Palestinians commit against the Jews today. But when Jesus hung on the cross, He showed the world that there's a higher law in God's moral universe than brute justice. And that law is mercy. When it comes between following the suffering redemptive love of the cross and the enemy crushing way of the sword, Christians are supposed to choose the cross—at least that's what Christians used to believe.

No I don't think that followers of Jesus would be prudent to impose New Testament standards on non-Christians, but what I find particularly odd is that when Palestinian Muslims embrace Christianity (like the case of Mosab Hassan Yousef, the son of a Hamas leader who recently made his testimony public) we expect them to embrace a new attitude towards their former enemy Israel. We expect them to love, bless, do good to, and pray for their enemies—like Jesus says to do. But when an Israeli Jew embraces Jesus as Messiah, most of my Christian friends don't expect them to be less militant towards their Palestinian neighbors but more militant. We expect them to fight for their land and liberty even if that means that on the other side homes are demolished, land is confiscated, Palestinians participating in non-violent demonstrations are either tortured, imprisoned, or assassinated (this happens all the time in the West Bank by the way) and, as in the case of Gaza, women and children are denied food and medicine for years on end.

My Christian friends would say that problems in the Middle East would be solved overnight if every Jew and Palestinian would simply confess Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. Without meaning any disrespect to people of other faiths, as a Bible believing Christian, I'm compelled to agree. But here is where the argument falls apart when the wrong people use it. Some of the same people who use this argument are also the ones bombarding the White House with e-mails urging our Secretary of State to let Israel fight. They never seem to ask themselves the question of who would Jesus bomb? What a shame that is! Because how can we as Christians say that the world would be a better place if everyone became one of us when we're the ones cheering when the bombs go flying?

Aaron D. Taylor is the founder of Great Commission Society (http://www.greatcommissionsociety.com) and the author of "Alone with a Jihadist" scheduled to be released in March 2009. Aaron can be contacted at fromdeathtolife@gmail.com

Pakistan has long been known as a hotbed for religious extremism. In the latest case of intolerance, a Christian teacher has fled for his life due to accusations of tearing up a book about Islamic teachings on the afterlife.

In the ongoing struggle between Israelis and Palestinians, the people most often overlooked are Palestinian Christians. Palestinian Christians face the same hardship as Palestinian Muslims, but are viewed with suspicion by Zionists on the one side and their Arab Muslim brothers on the other side. Due to ongoing violence in Bethlehem and the fact that Bethlehem is now surrounded by a monstrous wall, many Palestinians are leaving the area. This is why they're asking for help from the larger evangelical world.

My name is Aaron D. Taylor and I'm a charismatic Christian. If you ever see me driving with my glasses on, I may look dignified, but don't let my appearance fool you. Throughout my life I've been slain in the Spirit and drunk in the Holy Ghost on numerous occasions. I've felt the anointing, laid hands on the sick, cast out devils, and been prophesied over countless times. It's taken me a long time to feel comfortable in my Pentecostal/charismatic skin, but I can honestly say today that I wouldn't trade my Pentecostal/charismatic heritage for anything. I'll admit it's been a very long time since I've "shaken under the power" or "danced in the Spirit", but to this day I pray in tongues, lay hands on the sick, and if I ever need to get the devil off my back, I'll gladly pull out the "Sword of the Spirit" and start quoting Scripture. We Pentecostals and charismatics have a lot to be proud of. We were a miniscule, lower class fringe movement 100 years ago and now there are over 600 million of us around the world!

So why do I wish I were a Mennonite? Yesterday was my 30th birthday and when I think about the past 30 years of history, on nearly every moral issue that speaks to how Christians are supposed to live as a peculiar people surrounded by a godless culture, the Mennonites have been right and we've been wrong. While charismatic leaders were "naming and claiming" plush clothing, fancy cars, and million dollar mansions, Mennonites were teaching their children to live simply so that others could simply live. While charismatic leaders were petitioning the government to keep under God in the pledge of allegiance, Mennonites were warning their children about the dangers of nationalism. While charismatic leaders were building "apostolic networks" to win the world for laissez-faire capitalism, Mennonites were sharing possessions, building communities, and identifying with the poor. While charismatic leaders were putting bowling alleys and coffee shops in their multi-million dollar church buildings", Mennonites were providing a decent living for third world farmers by setting up international co-ops and selling fair trade coffee.

As a charismatic, I never heard terms like "revolutionary subordination" or "civil disobedience" spoken in church. I knew that racism was a sin except for when it came to Palestinians. My list of sins never included sexism. It never occurred to me that following Jesus might include making sure that whatever investments I had in the stock market didn't go to weapons manufacturers or companies with sweat shops in Indonesia. Bearing the cross meant everything from giving up lust and smoking to bearing annoying in-laws gracefully, but the one thing it never meant was following Jesus in the path of non-violence. Imitating Christ meant performing miracles, never once did it mean identifying with the poor and the oppressed like the civil rights activists did in the 1960's. It never once occurred to me that a Christian killing another Christian in battle might be a violation of the principle that loyalty to the body of Christ transcends national loyalties. Had someone suggested to me a few years ago that a Christian dropping a bomb on a defenseless village in Afghanistan is a contradiction of the number one priority of the church—saving souls—I would have looked at the person like they just arrived from Mars.

I wish I were a Mennonite because now that I realize that a Christian can't call Jesus Lord without doing what He says (Luke 6:46) and at least attempting to walk as He walked (I John 2:6), I can't for the life of me figure out why so many of my Pentecostal/charismatic friends have never considered the fact that Jesus never once made the distinction between personal enemies and national enemies. If I were a Mennonite, I'd be able to mix freely with those who don't twist Romans 13:1-4 to mean that a Christian can kill with impunity as long as he or she is an agent of the state—and the person deserved to be killed. I wouldn't have to make the case to friends and family that these four verses are sandwiched between two passages that state unequivocally that Christians are never to repay evil for evil and that love is the fulfillment of the law. I wouldn't have to feel ostracized for pointing out the obvious that Jesus—not Rambo—is the only standard of love by which a Christian is called to imitate.

Yes, I think there are a few things that Pentecostals and charismatics could teach Mennonites—and the broader evangelical world—as well. Much of the evangelical world views Scripture as a set of propositional truths; whereas Pentecostals and charismatics tend to view the Bible as a living document infused with spiritual power. Pentecostalism is great at presenting a holistic view of God as ready and willing to meet individual felt needs. This along with our supernatural worldview explains why Pentecostalism overrules liberation theology in Africa and Latin America. But as long as we're measuring who has more to teach the other, I'm going to have to say that the world's 600 million Pentecostals have a lot more to learn from the 1 million Mennonites than the other way around. As much as it saddens me to say this, when my secular friends ask me to point them to a version of Christianity that actually looks like Jesus, until we in the Pentecostal/charismatic world get our act together, I'm going to have to point them to the Mennonites. Should the two traditions decide to merge in the near future, I think it would produce the most incredible spiritual and social transformation the world has ever seen. For the love of God, the Church, and a world desperate for change, I sincerely pray that day comes sooner rather than later.