A Manifesto on Transparency

By Kara M. Young

I’ve been doing a lot of contemplating recently, and one of the biggest revelations has been that I have been tailoring my social media presence to people who are not my audience. I’ve been afraid to say certain things or post certain things because I’ve been afraid of being judged as “unworthy” or too flawed. I’ve been afraid of the sentiment being “You have a church, so how can you be doing x,y, and z?” But that’s a flawed way of thinking, for a number of reasons.


1. I live my life in alignment with my beliefs. I am very intentional about that. And the truth is that my beliefs do not fully coincide with those of Adventists, nor those of mainstream Christians. Further, I do not identify as either, because I believe both are irredeemably flawed and, to be perfectly clear, I do not believe that either entity is “the truth,” nor do I believe either entity has a monopoly on truth. I am an Agapist. A Christocentric Agapist, but an Agapist just the same. As such, I can’t be held to a standard that I don’t agree with, don’t believe in, and refuse to hold myself to because I genuinely and firmly believe that it facilitates an inaccurate and damaging depiction of the character of God.


2. I can’t preach unconditional love and acceptance while maintaining an unrealistic portrayal of my life. I can’t tell someone else to “be who you are” while simultaneously being afraid to publicly own ALL of who I am, especially when I am not ashamed of me. In fact, I’m really proud of the growth I’ve achieved thus far and the person I am continuing to become. I like me, and that’s something I have fought long and hard for.


3. I am aware that I am probably not “qualified” by many people’s standards to do what I’m doing, but I believe I’ve been called to it because I can’t be anything other than what I am. Life literally isn’t worth living to me if it means spending even one more second trying to fit myself into other people’s boxes. I have tried. My entire life, I have tried. And I’ve finally come to accept the fact that I can’t. That acceptance has opened my eyes to the fact that there are plenty of people out there who have had a similar experience and have ultimately opted to just be alone spiritually rather than compromise their liberty of conscience and liberty of thought for the sake of community. But those people…my people…need community, too.


4. Church as it stands isn’t designed for people who don’t “fit”. It’s not meant to accommodate people who want the benefit of community without the pressure to conform. So many people feel like you’re being disingenuous if you say you believe something and then don’t adhere to its tenets, and in a lot of ways, that’s not entirely untrue. If being a Christian means living my life like ________, and I don’t believe in that, am I really a Christian? And if I’m not, is that such a bad thing? I would call myself a Christian if doing so meant that the only thing anyone assumed about me was that I believed that Jesus is the Son of God and that He died to be the propitiation for sin itself. But realistically, saying you’re a Christian comes with a ton of other premises that MUST be relied on, otherwise your spirituality gets called into question, i.e. “How can you say you’re a Christian if you ________?”

The establishments that currently exist can only change or evolve so much before they become something they are not. And I realized some time ago that there’s no amount of change that could occur that would ultimately make room for me and all the other people that organized religion has either pushed to the fringes or excluded completely. So many of us wanted to belong, but even after the church began to say “come as you are,” it added, “once you get here, you’re supposed to change, and this is what your journey should look like, your questions should look like, your conclusions should look like….this is what you will look like. And if you don’t, something is seriously wrong.” There’s an underlying acceptance of certain fundamental “truths” that you are required to internalize and you literally cannot belong the the community if you don’t accept them. Some may call that “godly”. Some may call that “accountability.” Some may call that “the truth.” Personally, I call it presumptive, limiting, and unreflective of the God I have come to know and love. I want community that doesn’t require me to limit who God can be for me, doesn’t ask me to draw the same conclusions as everyone else, and gives me room to journey on God’s terms, not anyone else’s.

5. I’m not perfect, but I don’t think I’m supposed to be. I think that’s the point of real transparency…it’s the only way God’s strength can truly be made perfect in my weakness. If I’m too afraid to own that, how can I inspire anyone else to own it for themselves? How can I tell people that God is with them when they aren’t struggling, when they’re not wrestling, when they don’t feel the need to “repent,” when they’re asking questions other people don’t have answers for and drawing conclusions that other people condemn….and then be unwilling to transparent about how God does that for me every day? I know and believe in the depths of my heart that I am loved unconditionally and I know that because that love has been tested….tried with fire….and it hasn’t failed me yet. People think that they have to believe a certain way or live a certain way to experience God’s presence fully and I’m here to say that that simply isn’t true. Nothing can separate me from God’s love and my experience has been that God will always give as much of the Spirit as I am open to receiving. It’s in my darkest moments that God has shown up for me in the most profound ways and if God has done that for me, I have no doubt it can be done for you, too.

All of that being said, I am committed to doing my best to be more vulnerable and to live transparently. My target audience isn’t the people who think they have the truth. My target audience is anyone who is seeking truth, those who believe that truth-seeking is the journey of a lifetime. My goal is to be a part of a community that prioritizes love in a way that heals rather than does harm. And I just want to be myself. I want others to know that they really can be who they are and not be treated differently because of it. I don’t care who you are or what you believe. Boundaries are drawn based on how we treat each other. Do your best not to do harm. If you mess up (as we all inevitably do), acknowledge it, take responsibility for it, and try to do better moving forward, understanding that the love doesn’t change and grace is sufficient.

My hope and prayer is that we can all find freedom in the journey, and thus a greater sense of compassion, patience, kindness, self-awareness and acceptance, personal accountability, and unconditional love. -ky<3

Biphobia, “Preferences” and Why Personal Accountability is the Answer

By Kara M. Young

If you’ve been on social media within the last couple of weeks, you know that Netflix’s “Love is Blind” has taken the internet by storm, not only because of “The Experiment”, but also because, *Spoiler Alert*, male bisexuality seemingly ruined one of the relationships. This sparked a Twitter firestorm and #BisexualMenExist has been trending. In particular, people have been debating whether or not it’s “biphobic” for people to “prefer” to date someone who is not bisexual. It got my wheels turning, and I think this discussion illustrates an issue a lot of us talk about, but few of us seem to fully grasp: preferences.

Society has taken a turn towards broader inclusion and representation of demographics who have previously been relegated to the fringes. This has been met with both praise and criticism, but one of the mostly hotly debated aspects of the conversation has been acceptance and inclusion on a personal level, particularly with regard to romantic relationships. Things that were previously viewed as mere “preferences” are now being associated with the negative stereotypes and biases against certain groups that have been perpetuated by society. On the one hand, many agree that it is important to address personal biases that cause one to have an irrational aversion to certain characteristics. However, many people feel attacked when what they feel are harmless preferences are labeled as being rooted in bigotry, patriarchy, misogyny, phobias, self-hate, ignorance, etc. Preferences in favor of marginalized characteristics are less likely to be criticized and, generally speaking, the most vocal opponents of a given preference are those whom the preference excludes.

The biggest question in my mind when I encounter these debates is, “What do we do about it?” I think a lot of conversations are had about a lot of things but, in my opinion, very few of those conversations end with practical solutions that make sense for everyone. For example, we can acknowledge that it’s wrong to mistreat or exclude people from entertainment and media solely based on what they look like or who they love, but how does acknowledging that and re-working the system ultimately change what people believe or feel towards others? Fun Fact: the Supreme Court kind of addressed this in Shelley v. Kraemer. In Shelley, a Black family sued after buying a house that came with a restrictive covenant that did not allow Black or Asian people to occupy the property. The court held that the 14th Amendment’s Equal Protection Clause doesn’t allow states to enforce racially discriminatory housing covenants. However, the court also held that private parties could abide by the terms of racially restrictive covenants. Essentially, the government isn’t supposed to be racist, but people can be, and while the government can protect its citizens to an extent, it can’t change what’s in someone’s heart or mind. Society can’t really do that, either. We can bully people into silence, but we can’t make them appreciate or agree with things they’re dead-set against supporting. If anything, bullying the bullies just creates resentment and makes them double-down on the negative views they already have.

So what can we do? For starters, we can inform ourselves and take the time to understand the differences between preferences and biases, phobias, bigotry, etc. Next, we can self-evaluate and figure out what about someone else’s opinion makes us feel insecure and what our own preferences and biases are. Lastly, we may not be able to change other people, but we can work on ourselves and impact the people around us and the spaces we occupy.

What are “preferences” versus what makes a person “phobic”?

Preferences and phobias are not the same thing, but sometimes they’re used interchangeably for the sake of making a point, so let’s clarify: phobic means “having or involving an extreme or irrational fear of or aversion to something”; a preference is “a greater liking for one alternative over another or others.” Now, let’s illustrate using the conversation surrounding biphobia as an example. Biphobia is an “aversion toward bisexuality and toward bisexual people as a social group or as individuals. It can take the form of denial that bisexuality is a genuine sexual orientation, or of negative stereotypes about people who are bisexual (such as the beliefs that they are promiscuous or dishonest).” A preference is a greater liking for heterosexuality over bisexuality, homosexuality, etc. There is a difference, however, it is possible for preferences to be informed by or based on an irrational aversion to certain characteristics based on negative stereotypes, bias, ignorance, etc. This is often demonstrated by people using negative stereotypes or other statements rooted in bias/ignorance as a basis for justifying or explaining their preferences.

Continuing to use biphobia as an example and based on the definitions we now have of preferences versus phobias, it’s fair to conclude that it is not inherently biphobic to prefer to be with someone who is heterosexual. However, it is biphobic to allow stigma and ignorance to inform your preferences, and that’s an important distinction to make. For example, saying “My religious beliefs don’t align with the beliefs of someone who feels comfortable living that lifestyle and being in spiritual alignment with my partner is important to me” or “I’m heterosexual and I want to be with someone who is heterosexual” is not the same as saying   “I can’t be with a bisexual man because he’s obviously a closeted gay man who’d probably end up cheating on me with men and infecting me with HIV (I know that sounds harsh, but it’s a summation of some of the more common myths associated with bisexual men).”

The takeaway is that you can have preferences and like who you like without perpetuating stereotypes and bigotry as a means of justifying your preferences. That applies to everyone and everything, not just biphobia.

The Big Picture

Taking what we just learned about preferences and phobias and applying them more broadly, I think it’s important to take a hard look at how and why we convolute the two. Often times, it appears that people immediately get defensive at any expression of a preference that doesn’t include them or any criticism of people they share certain characteristics with, automatically being offended by it….but that’s not really fair, is it? First, why do so many of us have such a “knee-jerk” reaction to hearing that there’s something about us that someone else doesn’t like? What causes that? And is it that person’s fault for saying how they feel, or is something going on inside of us that sparks a visceral response? Second, why assume the preference is rooted in something negative? Or, even if it’s clear that the preference is rooted in something negative, what does that mean for you? Are you bothered by it because this particular person’s preference actually impacts your life? Are you bothered by it because you’re taking it personally? Are you bothered by it because it speaks to old wounds caused by someone else? And what can you actually do about any of it? Are you managing your expectations and being honest with yourself about what is actually within your power to change/control, or are you investing your time, energy, and emotions into responses/solutions that ultimately won’t address what’s going on inside of you and/or make you feel better?

These questions are important to consider because the answers have serious implications on how we address issues of inclusion and what we require from others versus what we require from ourselves. Inclusion and acceptance are important, especially systemically, but taking it to extremes on an interpersonal level suggests that everyone has to be open to involvement with anyone who might be interested in having a relationship with them (this can apply to platonic relationships, too) because there aren’t any “valid” reasons for preferring one characteristic over other alternatives. That doesn’t sound like too much fun, does it? Because the truth is that, if we’re being honest with ourselves, we all have preferences. We all have biases. We all have things that we are and are not attracted to and things that we are and are not willing to bring into our everyday lives and spaces. And maybe most importantly, we all have things about us that someone somewhere probably doesn’t like. At what point do we decide to own who we are rather than looking for outside validation and start appreciating the people and the spaces that make room for us as we are? Or if those people or those spaces don’t exist, creating them rather than trying to force our way into places where we aren’t wanted?

It’s a lot to think about lol but that brings us to the accountability piece. How do all of the questions and all of the thinking translate to change? First, acceptance is the initial step. You have to accept that you aren’t for everyone and everyone isn’t for you and that is OKAY. Second, you have to ask yourself some questions and give yourself some honest answers, because those answers will give you clarity for the last step, which is: figuring out what you have to do to heal and move forward and then doing it.

The Solution: Personal Accountability

As has already been stated, You can’t change other people; you can only change yourself. It may seem a bit cliché to say, but it’s true. We can’t make other people be different or do better, but we CAN heal, we CAN set an example by holding ourselves to a higher standard, and we CAN show compassion towards others because we understand that personal accountability is a journey, not a destination.

Healing requires accepting that you’re responsible for your own healing. It’s nice to receive apologies or to have our feelings validated, but we can’t put our own healing on hold while we wait for someone else to acknowledge that they’ve mistreated us. That day may never come, meanwhile we’re stuck at a standstill because we’re looking outside of ourselves for something we can decide to overcome on our own. Personally, I usually only find myself getting defensive when someone touches on something I’m already insecure about. If I’m not insecure, I usually don’t care, because my emotions or my past pain aren’t clouding my view and I’m able to see that that person’s opinion isn’t personal, or even when it is, it has no bearing on my reality. I’ve really had to learn to be intentional about focusing less on what someone else said or did and focusing more on why it made me feel the way it did and what I can do on my end to avoid feeling that way in the future. Healing takes back your power. It allows you to refrain from getting defensive about things that aren’t personal and that most likely don’t actually matter in the context of YOUR life. It allows you to have clarity on situations where bias and phobias are exhibited, which enables you to address those things effectively, in a way that generates real solutions rather than mere catharsis. To be clear, I am NOT saying that we shouldn’t speak out against injustice, bigotry, hate, ignorance, etc. I AM saying that lashing out at people in anger/pain has proven to be ineffective. It often just serves to make things worse. There are ways to firmly and clearly communicate that something is wrong without attacking and alienating your audience. Also, keeping a clear head enables you to keep things in perspective, i.e. does it really matter if I don’t fit a specific person’s preference? Is this someone I really want to be involved with, especially given the information I have on their feelings toward characteristics that apply to me?

Personal accountability also means holding yourself to the same standards you hold others to. You can’t expect to receive a love and respect that you don’t give. You can’t perpetuate negative stereotypes or bigotry toward others and then be upset when someone else does the same to you. You can’t reserve the right to have your own preferences about what you do or do not like and then be upset when someone else has preferences that exclude you. Again, you’re not for everyone and everyone isn’t for you. The sooner you learn to own who you are and everything that comes with the territory of being you, the sooner you can stop worrying about the people who you don’t fit with and the sooner you can start focusing on the people who you do fit with.

Lastly, compassion is free. It takes nothing but intention and a little bit of effort to treat others the way you want to be treated. You never know what someone has been through and the world desperately needs people who are more committed to loving and setting the standard than they are committed to being “right” and giving an eye for an eye. You may not always receive compassion and you can’t control that, but you can choose to be kind to yourself. You can control what you put out into the world and how you choose to treat people. If you don’t like to be stereotyped or belittled or viewed as less-than because of someone else’s bias, don’t turn around and do that to someone else. Don’t be ashamed of being yourself and liking what you like, but be aware of what informs your preferences and always treat others with the kindness and respect you want to be treated with.

When we know better, we do better, so know better and do better because you CAN.

Rob’s Truth: The Bedroom God

If there is one thing I know, it’s church. My mother was a choir director when my brothers and I were very young. Consequently, we got an extra dose of church due to choir or praise team practice. Late into Friday night, we would sit on those hard pews as the choir worked out the selections for Saturday’s service.

I knew, like all the youth, every crack and crevice of that old church. I knew every exit, every closet and every stairwell. There was no room that I had not thoroughly explored. During those years, it was a vast magical world. Magical because every so often strange things would happen.

I’ve observed the ushers in white collect the morning’s tithes and offerings while the congregation sang “You Can’t Beat God’s Giving”. So often the choir sang until screams rang out in the sanctuary. The spirit caused folk to rock side to side and lift their hands. And when they couldn’t take it anymore, they would wail.  They would wail and they could not be comforted. An usher would have to lead them out of the sanctuary until the spirit turned them loose. 

I’ve seen the sanctuary filled with white smoke when there was no fire. I was taught that it was the Shekinah. It meant the presence of God had filled the sanctuary. I’ve watched with fascination as the preacher preached himself into a fit. He seemed to strain underneath the weight of delivering the word of God. I recall Pastor Penn, a deep baritone, would sing his favorite song before every sermon. James Cleveland’s, “I Don’t Feel No Ways Tired”. Bellowing,

“I don’t feel no ways tired

I’ve come too far from where I started from

Nobody told me that the road would be easy

I don’t believe He brought me this far to leave me”

Yes, I know church. And I know God. 

During my final two years of high school, I lived with my grandparents in Buffalo, NY. Life had become extremely complex overnight. I was faced with all the dangers and obstacles that most inner-city youth are faced with; drugs, violence, crime, sex, etc. I was trying to find myself in the midst of it all. 

One night, I prayed to God and asked him to reveal himself. I told him that if He didn’t, I would live my life on my terms. I didn’t set any parameters. I only asked that it be undeniable. I needed to know God was real.

A few hours later, around 5 am, someone called the house phone, which lay directly beside my Grandmother. She answered the phone, at first concerned, and then irritated when the caller asked for me. 


“Robert. Robert! It’s for you!” my Grandmother yelled with so much disagreeableness that I swore I would slap whatever fool thought it was a good idea to call the house phone this early. Everyone knows you don’t just call the house phone all willy nilly.
“Hello.”

“What do you want?” The caller asked in such an agitated tone you would have thought I’d woken him from his sleep.

“What? Who is this? You…you called me.” I responded confused and groggy.

“Its Paul. What. Do. You. Want?” He replied with increasing annoyance.

“Bruh.” I had to pause and collect myself. I wasn’t known for my patience or gentleness in those days. “Bruh.Yoooouuuuu called ME. What do YOU want???”

“Robert. What do you want?!?!”

“What in the world is…”

“Robert, God has been bothering me about you all week. He would not let me sleep until I called you. I have to work in a few hours. WHAT. DO. YOU. WANT???”

I felt the world shrink in that moment. I had communicated with the spirit or my conscience my entire life. “Robert, don’t do that.” “Robert, you should apologize.” “Robert, don’t say that.” I very rarely headed that voice. It was as if, in frustration, the voice stepped out of my head and spoke through someone else. It is very strange to hear the prayers you prayed in your bedroom answered through a man in another city. I felt very small and I’ve never really felt alone again.

Paul was my Mom’s friend. He was in that choir that I was telling you about. That morning, Paul and I had our first of many conversations. He prayed with me and he went to sleep. I spent the rest of the morning trying to wrap my mind around what had happened.

I don’t attend church much nowadays. I have my reasons. Reasons I know are valid. But that’s a story for another time. I’m like an Old Testament prophet. I only show up in church to teach and rebuke. I’m only slightly joking.

Anyway, for the past few years my relationship with God has existed primarily in the place we found each other. I’ve developed a rich and complex relationship with the God of the Universe, The Most High God, within the four walls where I lay my head at night. Our relationship is lit. And though he is called by many names, He never did tell me his. So I call him the Bedroom God. He doesn’t seem to mind.

That’s where my allegiance lies. That’s who I worship. That’s my truth. All praises due to the Bedroom God.

By the way, my name’s Robert. But call me Rob. I look forward to meeting you! We’ll talk more soon.

Robert Allen Bailey hails from Western NY and holds a BA in Theology from Oakwood University and two Masters degrees (Social Work and M.S. in Community and International Development) from Andrews University. He now serves as a Therapist at Beach Stone Counseling and the Urban League. He is also the founder and lead facilitator of 19E Training and Development. Robert stakes his hope and his work in the spirit of David when he said, “I would have fainted if I did not believe I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”

Jason’s Truth

“Upon this rock I will build My church; and the gates of Hades will not overpower it” -Yeshua (Jesus), Matthew 16:18b 

I admit, the implication of the above quote was lost on me for a long time. It’s a segment of a conversation between Jesus and his rambunctious disciple Peter. It’s sandwiched right between Peter’s victory moment of correctly identifying out loud that Jesus was the long-awaited Messiah (vs.16), only to lose sight of that in the next few moments and be rebuked with a stern “get behind me Satan!” (vs.23). These high drama moments would grab my attention, and if I did read the bridge between them, I would then be lost in trying to prove that the “rock” the church is built upon is not Peter himself, but his confession of the nature of Christ (vs. 17-18). With all this, I stumbled past the simple truth that would radically shift my faith walk and send me on a completely new path. 

You see, being raised a believer, I spent much of my life with an “us against them” mentality when it came to matters of faith. I had internalized the idea that Christians are under attack on all sides, so I should greatly fear being compromised, deceived, or defeated. Because of this, I would only feel safe amongst other completely like-minded believers, and I put high importance on not being tarnished by the world; seeking to avoid it at all and every cost. I went through phases of being terrified by secular music or television, demonic activity that could be found in party environments, or even playing Pokemon cards. 

Anything outside of a western Christian perspective was dangerous and potentially deadly, and anything popular must be the result of a deep-seated and demonic conspiracy. In all honesty, as an older teen maintaining this level of vigilance and fear within my faith became exhausting and deeply discouraging. It felt that God had abandoned us to a world of constant attack, and the penalty of a slight stumble or fall would be total annihilation. The power of Satan felt insurmountable and the path to redemption felt almost impossible. The mindset of keeping one’s head down and muscling through to the end of this life thing while keeping your fingers crossed that you would earn heaven became my MO. Little did I know that THIS was the deception; this whole concept was a trap that robbed me of life abundant. 

While pursuing a degree in theology, I began to actually read the teachings and stories in the Bible, and at the encouragement of some phenomenal teachers, I did so without the baggage of any particular perspective. Instead, I allowed the world and motivations of the writing to speak for itself. To my surprise, I did not see the terrifying world I had imagined when listening to various sermons over the years, but instead a gospel so sweet that it defied the mind. I saw a God so loving and passionate that the title of Father was not only fitting but natural and an astounding standard to inspire awe and to be revered. It was at this time that I re-encountered the above text and became floored by it’s simple and readily apparent meaning: When the Messiah depicts the nature of the church, the community of believers, they are not playing defense, but OFFENSE. Not against other people, but against the power of the enemy itself. 

Nobody carries a set of gates into battle to do war, but erects them outside a territory as protection. The imagery Jesus pulls from does not display the church as setting up gates of defense to hide behind for escape but showcases that hell itself is seeking protection from US. We are not saved through a test of endurance to be challenged by the world and reach some quota of righteousness by the end, but are birthed into a Kingdom that empowers us to storm the enemy camp on a mission of rescue. We are not the defeated, we are the conquerors. We don’t fear the darkness, for we are the light. The goal is to be immersed and spread amongst the world, not to run from it. To engage humanity and bring light to the fallen, to the hurting, to those trapped in darkness and death. Not with just a message, or recruitment to a side, but with LOVE. Spoken, yes, but also lived out through compassion and justice. The gates of darkness will not overpower us, so how can we fear? 

I put away my defensive weapons of judgment and fear. I picked up understanding, compassion, and empathy. I began to see others as people just like me. Who hurt, and were afraid, clinging to their own version of “us against them”. Now that I had tasted reconciliation and peace, I only sought to share it and set my fellow prisoners free. 

THIS is the church. This is what it is to believe. We have tasted, and seen. We now showcase and share in love. Hell doesn’t stand a chance. 

Jason Francis is a single father of three who has a passion for young people and showcasing the gospel to the unchurched. He is the leader of Kinetic (iamkinetic.org), an independent ministry dedicated to inspiring every believer to recognize and unleash their God-given potential to transform the world. Jason longs to see the birth of a new and simple church that is relevant and accessible to the average person of this generation.