Jesus Freak: Raising the Dead and Final Thoughts

This is the final of five reflections on Sara Miles’ book Jesus Freak. 
Previous posts are Come and See, Feeding, Healing, and Forgiving

We’ve come to the end of Sara Miles’ Jesus Freak, and it was an interesting, thought-provoking read. I recommend it to people who grew up in the church in particular, since Miles’ faith journey begins as a middle-aged adult. This fresh perspective brought my attention to things I had never given much thought to before, like the many ways to heal or the role of communion to feed physically and spiritually or the fact that we are always forgiven by God whether we want to be or not.

The final section of the book talks about raising the dead, perhaps the most metaphorical way to follow Jesus. Can human beings literally raise the dead back to life? No. But Miles would still argue we can raise the dead in many ways.

Here are some ways, after reading Miles, I think the dead can be raised:

• Celebrating someone’s life after they have died: when we remember joyfully the kindness, the joy, the passion, the funny little nuances of someone’s life, we keep their spirit alive among us
• Being there for people struggling with addiction or depression or abuse: they may still be physically alive, but part of them had died; by being a source of love, acceptance, and consistency, we can bring people back to a healthy, vibrant life
• Starting each day with gratitude: when we are thankful for our life, when we express gratitude to our God or to our community, we are immersed in the family of the living and the dead; I think an attitude of thankfulness and gratitude reminds us of those who have come before and those who will come after as part of this world’s community

Raising the dead doesn’t require a miracle. Raising the dead can be as simple as cooking your great-grandmother’s pumpkin pie, or supporting someone as they fight to reclaim their life from addiction and depression and abuse, or raising the dead can be waking up in the morning and remembering that community transcends life and death.

Go feed, heal, forgive, raise the dead, and be a Jesus Freak, no miracles necessary.

Jesus Freak: Forgiving

This is the fourth of five reflections on Sara Miles’ book Jesus Freak. 
Previous posts are Come and See, Feeding, and Healing

We’re getting to the end of our time with Sara Miles and Jesus Freak – I have my last class on Tuesday, and will share my final reflections next Friday. But do not fear! I have already signed up for another 5-week class – Painting the Stars: Science, Religion, and an Evolving Faith – and will reflect on class discussions/readings/videos each week.

But before we get there, we still have more to learn about being a Jesus Freak. This week Miles focused on Forgiving, which is oddly the shortest chapter in the book. Miles shares one very short exchange with an Episcopal priest that I think speaks to what Miles wants us to think about when we consider forgiving (or being forgiven).

Miles has been asked to go talk to a dying man who wants to speak with “somebody religious about forgiveness” (111). Remember, Miles is not ordained. She’s just a lay person, granted quite an incredible lay person. The prospect of talking to this dying man, who wants to confess and talk about forgiveness, is scary for Miles because she is a lay person.

The following conversation is with a priest, Will Hocker, who is attempting to explain the different functions of clergy and laity when it comes to forgiveness:

Will was firm: only a priest could hear a confession and absolve someone; the rubrics said that laypeople could just offer “assurance of God’s forgiveness.”
“What’s the difference?” I asked.
“There’s a difference,” said Will. “But it’s always good to listen and pray” (112)

When I first read this, I was puzzled and read it again. And again. This priest is saying only clergy can hear confession and absolve someone of their sins, yet laity can offer “assurance of God’s forgiveness.” I ask the same question Miles did: What is the difference in those two things? By assuring someone of God’s forgiveness, aren’t you listening, praying, and telling them it’s okay?

The whole idea of confession and forgiveness through clergy is something I have limited exposure to. Growing up as a Methodist, at least in my experience, God forgave us all the time as long as we acknowledged our wrongs in prayer, or with another person. I don’t remember ever thinking that I had to go to my pastor before I could be forgiven. On the other hand, I did grow up with lots of Catholic friends so I was familiar with the idea of confession. But I was still detached from the sacrament of confession.

Reading Miles’ further account of her time with Tom, the dying man, I struggle even more with the concept of confession and absolution through clergy. It is clear that Tom didn’t care that Miles wasn’t ordained. He just wanted someone to listen to his fears, his transgressions, his struggle to forgive. And Miles does just that, listening and praying and telling him it’s okay because God is the ultimate forgiver.

This story leads up to one of the best passages (which is really saying something, considering Miles is a profound writer):

None of us has the strength to forgive sins by ourselves; our capacity for mercy is just not big enough. We have to empty out our defended, angry, wounded selves in order to be filled with the power of the Holy Spirit. We have to ask for God’s mercy, which is infinite, to break into us, inspire us (113).

We need a community to help us forgive and be forgiven. We need the divine spirit, the divine breath to help us forgive and be forgiven. Forgiveness can really suck sometimes. I’m sure everyone can think of at least one person who they feel is impossible to forgive. But have we shared that pain we felt with someone? Have we given it up to whatever divine being we have faith in? When we partake in a community of love and support, filled with clergy or lay people, we are able to expose the wounds we have and the wounds we’ve inflicted on others, and find peace in the journey of forgiveness.

Jesus Freak: Healing

This is the third of five reflections on Sara Miles’ book Jesus Freak.
Previous posts are Come and See and Feeding

In the exploration of what it means to be a “Jesus Freak,” Sara Miles has to talk about healing, right? Imean, other than dying on a cross, healing is probably what Jesus was most known for. From leading the blind into sight to raising the dead, from reversing paralysis to alleviating the pain of a hemorrhaging woman, Jesus cured a lot of people in his life time. Yet in the midst of all this curing, he also healed. “What?” You may ask. “Why wouldn’t healing and curing be the same? Isn’t healing just another word for what happens when your ailments go away and you’re healthy again?”

For Miles – and myself, though I’ve read work arguing this distinction long before picking up this book – healing does not equal curing. Curing happens to our physical bodies; healing is so much more. In the midst of a conversation with two doctor friends, she reminds them (and us) that “Jesus specifically heals people even when they aren’t cured. He doesn’t stop suffering, but promises to be with us in suffering” (p. 73). Curing is when cancer goes into remission or a stroke victim regains movement. Healing goes beyond the body; healing brings the pieces of our broken selves back together, even when a cure is no where to be found. And in divorcing the two, the distinctions between the sick and the healthy begin to dissolve. When you need a cure, it’s assumed you are sick. Only the healthy can cure the sick. If healing is about more than the body, we are all in need of some healing. When we think in terms of being healed, we can start looking beyond all the stigmas of sickness, and really see each other.

As in the previous sections of Jesus Freak, there is so much to talk about. This time, I want to zero in on something I have always struggled with – how to deal with the uncomfortable feelings of grief and comfort when there is no cure yet healing is still possible. What do we say when someone loses a loved one to death or gets laid off and cannot find work? How do we comfort someone grieving after disaster or war? Too often, Miles points out, there is an “airbrushed fantasy of a happy ending promoted by many Christians” (p. 84). The airbrushed fantasy is created when Christians say things like, “God needs him in Heaven” or “When God closes a door, he opens a window” or “God had a reason for taking her away.” If I lost a loved one to death or lost my job or my home, I don’t think I would want to hear anything about how God has a plan and a reason for the grief and the pain.

Thankfully, Jesus would not have contributed to our airbrushed fantasy in times of suffering. Jesus promises abundant life, which includes pain right next to joy. Jesus would be like Miles’ friend Cheryl who simply sat with the mother of a boy who had been shot in the back of the head. Cheryl tells Miles she was uncomfortable as the mother cried and suffered for her son, but also that God was present in that space. We don’t have to force cheerfulness or hope in times of pain; we simply need to sit and listen and let God in. Sometimes healing happens in unexpected places, at unexpected times, in unexpected ways. Jesus is the poster child for healing those who are the least, who are the outcast, who others have dismissed because there is no cure. It’s okay to be uncomfortable and not know what to say to someone who is suffering. That is when healing occurs, when we are honest in our discomfort, when we reach out to someone without thinking about what we will gain.

Jesus cured. Jesus healed. And in distinguishing between being the two, Jesus gave everyone the power to heal.

Jesus Freak: Feeding

This is the second of five reflections on Sara Miles’ book Jesus Freak.
You can find the intro to Miles and my first reflections here.

For Sara Miles, one of the most significant themes of her story and her life is feeding the hungry. With her work at St. Gregory’s of Nyssa Food Pantry, Milescomes back to the idea of food and eating together over and over again. She tells of the chaotic worship that occurs every time the food pantry opens, the community of abundance and compassion, and the mercy that keeps it all together.

There is a story in “Feeding” that communicates two of the most important reminders to all of us: 1) the behaviors many people associate with people in poverty are just as common among people of every socioeconomic status, and 2) we cannot assume we know why people need food assistance or why they exhibit particular behaviors. In this story, Miles visits a fourth grade class at a private elementary school just a few blocks from St. Gregory’s who had volunteered at the Food Pantry the week before. As soon as Miles walked in, she said she was bombarded with questions: “How do you know the people who come get food really need it? How come some people have cars and cell phones but they still get free food? Do people take advantage of you? Why do some people act crazy or yell when they’re waiting for food? What do you do to keep people from cheating?” (36). These questions don’t just come from fourth graders; I have heard some of the same questions asked by adults, by college students, by people who are concerned with what’s fair and who Other those who come for assistance.

If I can go on a tangent for a moment, reading this story (and this whole chapter, to be honest) made me think about my experience in San Francisco in January of this year, serving at Glide Memorial Church in their Daily Free Meals program. There were 13 of us in all – ten college students and three faculty members – and we had many discussions talking about these same things the 4th graders had asked Miles. We talked through a lot of the Othering that happens at food ministries, and how we contribute to it, and what we do about it without feeling guilt for our socioeconomic status. We talked about the range of stories from the people we met, many of whom lived on the street but also people who worked or were in school and came for a hot lunch. There were conversations about people who appeared ungrateful for the food, and the reminder that we had no idea what was going on in their lives that had nothing to do with the 20 minutes they spent in the Glide cafeteria. It was a trip that brought up questions of need, of assumptions, and of fairness. It was much like what I imagine happening in that classroom of fourth graders.

Back to Miles – she goes on to lead the 4th graders through a little exercise and reflection:

“How many of you have ever taken the best piece for yourself, or stolen something?” I asked, raising my own hand.
Slowly, every hand went up. “How many of you have ever been generous and given something away?” Every hand went up.
“Yeah,” I said. “You know, poor people cheat and steal and are really annoying. Just like rich people. Just like you. And poor people are generous and kind and help strangers. Just like rich people. Just like you.”

And we are reminded that those in poverty and those with excessive wealth and those with just enough to live comfortably, we can all be shitty people and we can all be compassionate people. And we can all go to the food pantry at St. Gregory’s or the free meal at Glide Memorial, because we may be a broke college student or living on the street or employed but at minimum wage. It doesn’t matter, and it’s not our place to decide whether someone looks like they need to be fed or not.

How often have we taken the best piece for ourselves? How often have we seen generous and kind acts from someone unexpected? Feed without questions, be fed without resentment, and invite everyone to the table.

Jesus Freak: Come and See

Over the next five weeks, I’ll be spending my Tuesday evenings discussing Sara Miles’ Jesus Freak: Feeding, Healing, Raising the Dead with a group of adults – young (ish), old, retired Methodist ministers (there’s like 6 of them!), lawyers – who all want to dig deeper into what it means to be a Jesus Freak (which I will get back to soon). We met for the first time this past Tuesday and I left excited for the conversation we’ll be having as we all work through this book. There is so much to talk about in Miles’ work, so each Friday for the next five weeks I’ll be posting about the previous week’s reading. We kick off today with the introduction and first chapter, “Come and See.” Ready?

I began this book with zero knowledge of Sara Miles, so here’s a little background information I learned on Tuesday – Miles is the founder and director of The Food Pantry at St. Gregory of Nyssa Espicopal Church in San Francisco, who was raised an atheist and had a powerful conversion experience at the age of 46, and has been in a committed relationship with her wife Martha for more than 15 years. Now if that doesn’t peak your interest, you can stop reading here.

On the third page of Jesus Freak, Miles gets right into it. She asks, “…what would it mean to live as if you – and everyone around you – were Jesus, and filled with his power? To just take his teachings literally, go out the front door of your home, and act on them?” (ix).
This is the central question – what does it mean to be a Jesus Freak?  When we met on Tuesday, we talked about what images came to mind when we heard to phrase “Jesus Freak.” The most common among the group? Hippie. Pushy Evangelical. 60s and 70s. The dc Talk song from 1995.

I immediately thought of middle school, when being a Jesus Freak was super cool in my social circles. I have to disclose that I was home schooled, from 4th grade through my high school graduation, and very, very involved in my youth group (a downtown social justice and mission-minded congregation). To me, 6th and 7th grades were times when you weren’t Christian but you loved Jesus, and your religious beliefs on MySpace read “Follower of Jesus” or “Jesus Freak.” Now, I associate that time with the superficial nature of teenagers who just want to be in with their peers. For me, my peers were mostly Christians who flaunted it (but only if they didn’t have to explain why or what they really believed). So Sara Miles trying to reclaim “Jesus Freak” is an exciting and daunting task.

Though there is so much to talk about in the first 30 pages, there are three things I want to touch on here. The first is an amazingly profound statement – “If Jesus is about anything, it’s the inconvenient truth that a spiritual life is a physical life” (xviii). Just think about that for a second. Miles is saying that Christians (and I would argue religious people of most any tradition) cannot just get by on inner spirituality. Physical acts of humility, justice, mercy, and love are just as important. We have to interact with God’s world to continue to walk forward with God.

The second point brings up the outcasts in our society – the homeless, the hungry, the minority (religious and racial/ethnic), the sick. Miles reminds us that people like Mary, an unmarried teen who gave birth to Jesus Christ in stable, and John the Baptist, a madman who baptized the Son of God in the river Jordan – “improper figures, completely unauthorized by the religious authorities” (6) – were chosen to share the love and power of the divine. The outcast and the stranger, existing on the fringes of society, bring the holy into the profane spaces of a stable or a river.

This relates perfectly to the last statement I want to talk about, which is the idea that victims are necessary because they “define the center” (10). Societies and religions need the outcast so they know they are righteous and normal, reflecting the dangerous impulse we as humans feel to “Other” those who are not like us. We all do it. I’ve “Othered” people of different socioeconomic statuses than myself (and usually those of higher status, to be honest). But Jesus, through the many parables he tells and the many acts of mercy and love he performs, shows us that it is not up to us to decide whom God loves. We, as mere humans, do not get to choose whether that person standing on the corner or the CEO in the cushy corner office are “normal” or whether they are part of the family. No one, not Christians nor Muslims nor Hindus nor Atheists, have the authority to make that decision. And the figure of Jesus sends that message loud and clear.

Obviously, I could go on for hours. Sara Miles is a wonderful writer and Jesus Freak is full of powerful statements and questions. I’ll stop for today, but I’ll be back next Friday with more from Sara Miles and Jesus Freak.

Related articles

• Finding My Religion: How San Francisco writer, activist, and lifelong atheist Sara Miles unexpectedly found God (Read more about Sara Miles and her journey into the Christian tradition and Episcopal Church)