Bradley Jersak is one of those unique people who, besides being quite scholarly, is also especially pleasant to converse with. And he can informatively converse on a lot of topics from theology to pastoring to teaching. He also has written some well-received books of his own (the latest two being A More Christlike Word: Reading Scripture the Emmaus Way, and IN: Incarnation & Inclusion, Abba & Lamb), along with co-authoring alongside others such as William P. Young, author of The Shack. Maybe what makes Dr. Jersak – though he always goes by “Brad” – special is that he actually lives out what he espouses in word and letter.
In this interview with Joy and me, Brad shares with us his thoughts about the nature and character of God, his experience with those society often ignores, and how Christians can better follow their elder brother, Jesus, in meaningful ways. The full interview is available as an audio. Brad is lovely to listen to as well as to read.
M: Sir Bradley. What a pleasure to be with you! As I was going over a few things this morning, you know, introductions and the like, I was thinking about words to introduce you with. And what kind of stuck was that you are a corrective to the body of Christ. At first I thought my using that word corrective is terribly close to being judgmental because that is saying I know what the corrective is. And then I thought, no, I can use that word because someone who writes and speaks in love, who is motivated by love, is most assuredly a corrective— to anything. So, thank you for being a corrective force in the world. Also, you write and speak with a sense of curiosity. I love that.
J: Brad, I was having a conversation last night with Matthew about this practice that I’ve recently started in my restorative justice circles. We start off with a moment of silence, and during those moments I’ve taken to the practice and setting the intention within myself of asking, “What can I learn from this person about the character of our God and about humanity? How can I lean into this conversation with a holy curiosity so that I can be changed in a positive way?”
BJ: That’s really good. Like, being expectant and open, right? Which is a contemplative posture for receiving. To receive from another is pretty important. In fact, a friend of mine named Brian just recently passed away. He was a radio interviewer in the 1950s for the BBC in Wales. And he would interview all these amazing people, like actors and actresses. So I asked him how he conducted the best interview possible. And he said, “You must be completely convinced that everybody you meet is absolutely fascinating.” So, he had that curiosity too. And that isn’t just for finding out about the intense stuff, but to find God in the mundane too—to see how anybody sees their world, their day-to-day routine, is also a venue for encounter. We can see God in the little things, the big things, and in everyone. Curiosity is central to that.
M: You have done a lot of stuff in your life. You have written a number of books; you are the Dean of Theology & Culture at St. Stephen’s University in St. Stephen, New Brunswick; you have pastored; and you call some cool people friends. For many, being just one of those things would be enough. But you have done a lot. Plus, you do praxis well. Can you tell us a little about yourself?
BJ: Sure. So, I grew up in this conservative Baptist home, went off to college, and met my wife, Eden. We ended up getting married, and her home church called me to be a pastor there for ten years with the youth and young adults, and to do outreach. That was with the Mennonites. After that we planted a little church along with our friends Brian and Sue West, and the focus of that church was on people with disabilities. I’d say about one-third of the congregation were in full-time care. So we had those people, along with their care workers, in the church. The church also attracted others from the margins, like alcoholics, drug addicts, sex addicts, and those who do the 12-step recovery programs. Then there were the poor and those whose lives were full of intense drama and trauma. So yeah, I had this twenty-year pastoral stint where we got to learn a lot about the practice of listening in order to bring about inner healing in the lives of those who were damaged by whatever traumas they experienced as children, as well as the things that drove their addictions. Listening was a huge part of that.
Then I shifted from the pastoral world to academia in 2008 after I had a big personal meltdown. I just could not face all the traumas we were experiencing in our church. I was just really overwhelmed, and I crashed. But my wife nursed me back to health. And then she led the church.
Meanwhile, I did work in biblical studies, theology, and political philosophy. By the time I finished my PhD, I had also moved into the Orthodox Church. And since then I have been a professor, and Dean of Theology & Culture at St. Stephen’s. I guess it’s been about ten years since I have been in the full-time teaching angle. We also have an online program called the Institute for Religion, Peace and Justice. And that is all about restorative justice that is rooted in the gospels and the New Testament.
So that’s how I’ve kept myself busy for the last fifty-seven years. And I do very much have a heart for praxis. That means I regularly walk with people through the 12-step recovery program. I’ve been doing that since 2009, along with counseling others who are broken. I just know that they need help, probably therapy and some form of a recovery program, but they also need to meet Jesus. And I still do listening prayer. So if someone is pouring out their heart, I tell them they need to meet Jesus. And if they ask, “Well, how do you do that?” I tell them to close their eyes and look at Jesus, and tell him what you are feeling, and ask him to speak to you. Too often people have abstracted this into a concept or something. But I am, like, no, no: actually do it, and see what happens. The results can be surprising and wonderful. When people I hear from practice listening prayer they actually encounter a real person who lives inside, who is willing to touch them and talk to them. Then, as I hear about it, I am just a witness. And I hear people tell me amazing things. It’s very cool.
J: Beautiful.
M: You are already touching on some of these things, but can you talk more about the foundational things that we need to know about God and the heart of God towards people? Like, what the Father sees and thinks and feels towards us? It’s a complex question, but you are a complex thinker.
BJ: Yeah, it is complex, but I think I can distill it a bit. I have had to think how would I say this to a nine-year-old? And I get to do that all the time because kids are in my group of friends. Okay, so the heart of God is love, right? That’s the good news. And if you want to know what that love looks like, it looks like Jesus. So the heart of God is represented in how Jesus responded to people; how he loved people; how he expressed mercy to people; how he was attentive to people. The book of John tells us too: if you want to know what love looks like, look at the cross.
The cross tells us three things about God. First, that he is self-giving: he poured out his life into this world as love. Second, that he is radically forgiving. Jesus says, “Father, forgive them.” And we know that the Father would say yes to anything that was prayed in his will. So Jesus forgives them. Well, who is “them?” It is Judas and Caiaphas and Pilate. It’s the soldiers who were at the trial. It’s the Pharisees— it’s everybody. So if he can forgive them, he can forgive all of us who turn to him like the thief on the cross. And third, that is he is co-suffering, and that has to do with compassion. Co-suffering is literally what compassion or sympathy mean: Pathos, or passion, is what he does with us. In other words, he has empathized with us, united himself to our wounds, and he bears them. And this is the heart of God: that he would be known as self-giving, radically forgiving, and co-suffering love.
Now, for how God sees us. There are really two main streams of theology on this. One I would regard as largely pagan, but it’s also known as Protestant.
M & J: [Laughter]
BJ: Sorry, and that’s not across the board for All Protestants but that’s kind of it right, isn’t it? Luther, or one of his disciples, said something like, “From God’s point of view, we are snow-covered dung.” In other words, at the very heart of us, is, well, shit. But then Jesus comes along and covers that over with his righteousness so that when God sees us, he doesn’t really see us, he doesn’t see that rotten core which is what we really are. Instead, Jesus sort of tricks God, so that God sees Jesus and not what we are at our core. I know I am being a bit hard on that, but I think we need to be, because that is what many in the Church have communicated to people in a way that has caused serious damage. Too many people have this idea that our rotten center is covered by Jesus’s robe of righteousness. So how easy is it for us to think, well, if God really saw me, who knows what he would do.
The other stream, the one that was preeminent in the early Church, says that you are a tarnished diamond. In other words, at your core you are a diamond. This is also the view that the Orthodox Church takes, and that’s why I moved there. Anyway, that is what the early Church believed: that at our core, our truest and deepest selves, lies something beautiful. Now, as we go through life that core will pick up some tarnish. But – good news! – Christ has come to clear that tarnish. Salvation is the process by which I am shined up, by which my true nature is cleaned and revealed. So the work of transformation is to remove the dust of death from my life, which is just my daily struggle. The truth is that when God looks at me he sees a precious son, and he is really seeing me. Jesus doesn’t have to fool the Father. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit live in us—in our core. And that is also where we communicate with him—when we hear him, when we are changed by him. You know the verse in 2 Cor 3:18 that says we are transformed from glory to glory? The Greek word used is the same one we find when we read that Christ was transfigured on the mountain. Remember when that light shown from him? That is what is happening to us. We are being transfigured. We need to know that as we relate to Christ, his light is being revealed in us. So there you have it, concerning the two images. One is that we are snow-covered dung, and the other is that we are diamonds being cleansed of tarnish.
J: I love that image. And since you were talking about how God relates to us, can you tell us how we are to relate to one another?
BJ: Well, it’s kind of a similar thing. Often certain Christians have been guilty of viewing people in the uglier way, and sometimes it’s worse even than viewing people as snow-covered dung: people are viewed simply as dung. It’s a horrible mentality to have. It’s condemning. Now, some people absolutize certain Scriptures and take them out of context. Take the one about people being dead in their transgression and sins. People like John Calvin made a theology out of this. And basically, this is saying that unless you are a Christian, you’re just the walking dead, not alive. And so we can end up treating people like zombies. It’s so dehumanizing. It’s so ugly. And even if we think of ourselves as snow-covered dung, there is still this self-loathing that is there. Because, sure, we have this imputed righteousness, but what does that mean? Are we changing? Are we growing in love? And such people would say, “Well, no; that’s works.” I would say, “No, it’s not just works. Growing in love is being saved; it’s being cleansed.”
On the other hand, if I believe in the second stream, then I realize that absolutely everyone I meet is a diamond at their very core. And if they are acting out in some negative way, that’s probably just bad fruit that is caused by lies they believe about God or lies that they believe about themselves. It’s probably just evidence of the suffering in their soul.
This is important because it changes how we see sin. If we see people as dung, then sin is a law-breaking behavior that needs to be punished. And if we see it that way, we will see God as a punishing judge. But on the other hand, if we see sin as the deep suffering of the soul that leads to acting out, then what you will know you need is a Great Physician. And that is exactly how Jesus revealed himself.
I deal with a lot of people who struggle with the word sinner, because they think that is their identity. In the Orthodox view, being a sinner is just talking about my normal struggle. At my center I am a child of God, but I have to deal with the human condition. Maybe take it like this: when I say I am hungry or thirsty, or that I am feeling sick, those things aren’t my identity. That’s just a condition I am in. But my true identity is being a human. Similarly, I am a sinner in the sense that I am in a daily struggle: I habitually turn away from love, sure, but I am loved. So my very identity is that I am beloved. “Sinner” has to do with my habits that need to be repaired. But that isn’t my identity. And so I confess that I am a sinner, sure, but that doesn’t trigger me: I don’t feel condemned or experience self-loathing about it. That’s not my essence or nature or my being. I might have a fever, but I am not a fever.
Another important and connected thing: we want Jesus to show mercy on us, but mercy isn’t just withholding judgment. Mercy is all the ways that you’ll experience God’s goodness today. So when I pray the Jesus Prayer, “Lord, have mercy…,” by mercy, I mean better weather, safer travel, a more productive writing day; I mean getting to encounter people who care about me. Mercy is the embodied goodness of God in all its ways. When we see mercy that way, it changes everything. It’s an entirely different paradigm than the Calvinistic one. Though coming out of the negative one can take a long time. It certainly did for me.
M: That is so good—and I especially like the part about mercy.
J: Yeah, the whole thing about what is at our core.
BR: It’s the imago Dei, right? The image of God. We are that. This is something important too: some people think that somehow after the fall, whatever that was, we lost the image of God. And I am, like, no: the image of God is still there. It’s just that the image has been tarnished. Maybe I’ll put it like this: You are the image of God, but on a bad day you’ve lost some of the likeness. That is, when I am being un-Christ like, the image that I bear is not apparent and it needs to be restored.
I am really wary of any theology that creates second-class citizens, that excludes or puts others in the margin or that dehumanizes. That’s not cool. Even the categories of believers and unbelievers: those are weird categories because I know some very Christlike unbelievers and I know the opposite. So what matters— how you say you believe, or how you live?
But we are all on this journey together: that is, struggling to live towards becoming human. That isn’t to dehumanize in any way, but the truth is that it hasn’t been revealed what I am going to be when I come into the fullness of who I will be. But that’s where we are all heading. And I want us all to walk together in that.
M: Speaking of where we are heading and where we came from, and to switch to a different topic, I wonder if you might speak a bit to the historical church and what it was known for, especially in terms of compassion.
BJ: There have always been Christians who walk in the way of compassion. Even to the extent of being accused of doing bizarre things. When we look back into the history of the early church, and especially during the time when there were persecutions taking place, we have some influential people telling the emperor “You know, we have got these people wrong. They are actually caring for the destitute, the poor, better than, we, the Romans are doing!” In that way, even the reports of the enemy could lean towards telling how the early Christians treated people differently. They treated even the outsiders with compassion and hospitality. It was unusual enough to take note of. And there are positive testimonies like that from every century. I mean, Christians are still people, so there was the bad stuff, but let’s not forget the good.
In the fourth century there was this guy named St. Basil of Caesarea. He was also called St. Basil the Great because he was the one responsible for finalizing the doctrine that declared the Holy Spirit as fully God. So that’s good, but he wasn’t just a theologian, but also started a monastic community. The thing that is interesting is that this monastery wasn’t a self-serving enclosure, but instead established hospitals for sick people, hostels for strangers and the wandering, and facilities for immigrants, and refugees. It also established hospices for those who were dying. Eventually, that monastic community became like a city. And it was known as a city of compassion, of being welcoming to the other.
Later you had people like St. Francis of Assisi, and then later St. Nicholas of Cusa. These were people who were at the forefront of interfaith dialogue with the Muslims—even in times when the Crusades were popular. They were peacebuilders and peacemakers. In more recent times you have groups like the Salivation Army, who saw a need with those suffering from poverty as a result of alcoholism. And they did praxis— acted out their faith in compassion.
I know that now, in some ways, the church has a worse reputation than it ever has. But at the same time, I can point to groups that I certainly trust my money with, because I know that such groups help people right where they need it. www.partners.ngo is an organization that works with folks on the front lines in Syria, Myanmar, and places like that, where the military has come in and destroyed villages. People are hiding in the jungle, but these groups go in and find and help them. Another organization that comes to mind is Impact Nations, led by Steve Stewart. They do work in Africa and India, literally redeeming people out of prison; people who have been in prison for, like, thirty years, because they couldn’t pay a thirty-dollar fine. Crazy stuff like that. So I always like to be in contact with those who are acting out their talk. That’s how real Christianity will show—you know, how we treat our brothers and sisters and neighbors, the stranger, and the enemy. And that’s where the radical forgiveness still comes in, even to this day.
M: I wonder too if more people wouldn’t do a bit more if we didn’t subscribe so much to the North American attitude of “go big or go home;” you know, assuming that to do something meaningful it has to be great and big and recognized. We can do so much if we are willing to give even a little of our time. I mean, yeah, people have jobs, but a few hours a week or month can make a difference. Any thoughts on that?
BJ: Oh, for sure I do. And stories. Maybe the first thing I’ll say is that we often get these grandiose ideas that end up going nowhere. You know, people talk about caring for the poor. That sounds nice. Okay, you say you love them? … then name one.
J: Oh, wow—
BJ: Right? I can’t remember who I first heard that from—maybe it was a liberation theologian— but it really struck me. And it’s like, even if you go down and work as a volunteer in your local food bank, name those people you come in contact with. Because there can be a mentality of separation where I am just a distributor of goods or commodities to these poor consumers, instead of me having any sense of relationality to their situation.
Here is a story for you. I know this couple in their eighties who live in Portland. The wife, Linda, uses a walker. But they have a heart for the poor. So after thinking about it, Linda realized that one neglected physical need of the marginalized is drinking water. I mean, sometimes these homeless folks are seriously dehydrated. So she was challenged by the same thing: name them. So here is what this couple does: they buy bottles of water and hand out water where the homeless are. And when someone comes to their car window, she asks them, “What’s your name?” Then she writes these names down on a ribbon and hangs them on her signal indicators. Then she will ask them, “Is there anything I can do for you?” Over and over they have asked, “Could you pray for me?” But the thing is that Linda and her husband know their names. Now these people recognize Linda and her husband. They know these people are safe, and that they care. Because they receive a cup of water in Jesus’s name, they can, likewise, receive a prayer in Jesus’ name. And of course, having their names remembered humanizes them. Now, is this ending the homeless problem in all of Portland? No. But along with being an act of kindness, it also changes Linda in her own heart to be able to see humans that she loves instead of homeless people who are scary.
You know, when I go to various churches I will sometimes be told that “God has given you the nations for your inheritance.” And I think, aside from misunderstanding the messianic Psalm, I am not even sure that half the people in my cul-de-sac like me, you know? So, how am I going to rule nations if I can’t even get along with my neighbors! I realized during COVID that I’ve lived in this cul-de-sac for fourteen years and I don’t even know everyone’s name. And there are only ten houses. Good Lord, what’s wrong with me? So my family and I made a little map and found out everybody’s names and the kids’ names so that we can greet them by name when we see them on the streets. And, oddly, the isolation that COVID has caused actually has broken some of the isolation in our cul-de-sac, because we want to be out talking to our neighbors. And it’s led to, in some cases, the first time we’ve ever had a meal with some of these folks; and I’m like, that’s where you start.
M: Totally, at ground level. Right.
BJ: And so that’s what really resonates with me when you bring this up. Because it’s not going to be grandiose movements that change things; it’s going to be people who start taking their faith seriously, starting right at home. It can be too easy for me to say, “I love my neighbor because I sent fifty dollars to partners.ngo,” you know? But what does loving my neighbor look like when I’ve got a homeless guy rooting through my recycling and he’s left a mess on the road? Well, after I yell at him I find out his name, and then I apologize for yelling at him. And then I find out his story; and he’s like, yeah, I have two kids, but I can’t be with them because my addiction is too bad.” And then, before he’s gone, I find out that this man is absolutely fascinating, and I can pray for him.
M: Very cool. Could you suggest for us some daily practices that you find helpful and nourishing?
BJ: Hmm, a daily practice. Well, one of the pictures I love to use in prayer regularly is a waterfall. So wherever in my heart I need nourishment, wherever I need comfort, wherever anxiety is raging, whenever I need to feel washed, you know, I will picture myself standing under this waterfall, just having a really nice shower. And I will pray, “Lord have mercy.” And then I think of the infinite mercies of God; the mercies that endure forever and never dry up, just washing over me. Then I open my hands. I might even tilt back my head. You could actually do this in the shower too. And then the other thing I’ll do is begin to draw people into that waterfall with me who need care. So let’s say I’m worrying about my kids. I’ll just pull them into the waterfall. I picture that. And, as a visual form of intercession, I may draw in other loved ones that I have concerns for.
My wife uses the banqueting table image and will just say, “This is the Lord’s table that I’ve been invited to.” She takes that line from Psalm 23, “He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies.” But instead of thinking, I’m going to eat, and I’m going to gloat as they have to stand there watching me, she says, “He invites my enemies to sit with me. They get to be part of this too.” Right? Sometimes that person might even be herself. But the point is to know that we are being welcoming.
Another practice is just simply greeting people, giving them a nod or a smile— just acknowledging that they are seen. I think that is a common practice in some places in Africa, saying, “I see you.” And you know, it is unbelievable what happens in people’s faces when you just let them know that you acknowledge them. Some people will just think you’re being creepy, I suppose, but when you are being led by the Spirit? It can be really powerful. Acknowledging people can be done in various ways. You can have fun with people in the service industry, for example, or who are behind the counter at the shopping market who might not have been having a great day. People are rude, right? Service people are complained to, sometimes all day. So give them the gift of being acknowledged. Here’s a fun one. You can just use it as a joke, but it does something. So when I use my credit card or bank card, at some point, you know, I hit tap or whatever, and it’ll say, “You’ve been approved.” I’ll say it out loud, “I’ve been approved. I love approval!” And then I’ll look at the person’s name tag at the till, and I’ll ask, “Um, Sue,”( or whatever their name is) “Do you love approval?” “Well, sure, yeah,” they’ll say. Because who doesn’t? And then I’ll look at them and say, “Well, I approve of you.”
M & J [Laughter]
BJ: We think it’s kind of a joke, right? But then … wait. It’s making a very powerful point. So anyway, that’s another daily practice that is fun. It really is the little things, right? Little things matter. We are told in Zechariah, “Despise not the day of small beginnings.” So I don’t.