Thursday, April 6, 2017

EcoPreacher is now on!

I am thrilled to announce that has brought me on as a blogger on their Progressive Christian channel:!  

After five years of having my blog on this site, I will now be a genuine professional blogger writing for one of the most cutting-edge theological websites online.

What is Patheos?  As explained on their “About” page, “Founded in 2008, is the premier online destination to engage in the global dialogue about religion and spirituality and to explore and experience the world's beliefs. Patheos is the website of choice for the millions of people looking for credible and balanced information about religion. Patheos brings together faith communities, academics, and the broader public into a single environment, and is the place where many people turn on a regular basis for insight, inspiration, and stimulating discussion. Patheos is unlike any other religious and spiritual site on the Web today.”

If you’re wondering what Patheos means, it’s a fusion of two words: path and theos (the Greek word for God).  So this is a website that illuminates and explores different paths to God, however you understand the Divine, and whatever path(s) you choose to meander.  Within that framework, EcoPreacher will be following an environmental justice path within the Progressive Christian quadrant of the faith conversation. 

If you've been following me on this site - thank you for your support!  Please click on over to and follow me there.  And invite your friends!  Just as before, you’ll be seeing some hard-hitting pieces connecting the dots between religion, environmental issues and what’s happening on the national and global level in terms of politics, culture, and current events.  As you know, I’m very interested in the intersections of race, gender, sexuality, socio-economics, health, and community within the realm of religion and the environment.  I’ll also be drawing on my recent research looking at the juncture of politics and the pulpit through a survey I conducted of over 1200 Mainline Protestant clergy.  If you’re looking for a “green lens” for reading scripture and the news, and for viewing the state of the church today, EcoPreacher is your blog!

There will also be pieces focusing on practices of hope, resilience, and creative inspiration for facing the daunting environmental challenges in our world.  Many of these pieces will be adaptations of sermons that honestly name the “bad news” facing the Earth community (what I call the “eco-crucifixion”), while also proclaiming the Good News of what God is doing to effect what I call the “eco-resurrection.”

As I work on migrating the content over from this blog, there may be some gaps in seeing archived material.  But I'll be diligently working on the transfer over the next couple weeks.

Again, thank you for visiting this blog site and reading the final post here.  I'll look forward to seeing you on to continue the conversation about Earth, faith, politics and God!

Saturday, April 1, 2017

Earth Day Sermon Contest!


Please click the link below for information about the 

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

5 A's for Earth Day


Click on this link for 5 ways to cultivate our attention, and claim our individual and collective power on Earth Day and all year long:

Sunday, March 12, 2017

Announcing: The Purple Zone, New Website and Blog

I'm happy to announce the launch of my newest research and ministry project - The Purple Zone: Ministry in the Red/Blue Divide, equipping Christians and pastors during this divisive time in our nation.  I am exploring ways that pastors can preach and do ministry that is true to their gospel calling, while recognizing the many risks involved in courageous preaching and ministry.  

How can we be both pastoral and prophetic? This is one of the driving questions of my work.  The challenge of addressing controversial justice issues from the pulpit is fraught with risks, but also offers opportunities for proclaiming the gospel and building community in profound and contextual ways.

Drawing on data gathered from a survey I conducted of 1200 Mainline Protestant clergy serving congregations in the United States, this project surveys the landscape of preaching and ministry during this divisive time in our nation's history.  The goal is to help Christians and pastors think about how we can engage the gospel regarding controversial justice issues during this deeply divided time.

The Purple Zone is a resource for helping the church understand the challenges facing parish pastors and congregations, and establishing both scriptural and theological rationale and authorization for addressing contentious justice issues.

The Purple Zone aims to encourage and equip pastors and congregations to address the vital justice issues of our time by attending faithfully to God’s Word, listening intently to each other, navigating the risks, and attuning to the guidance of the Holy Spirit by prophetically “speaking truth in love” in ways that enable congregations to genuinely hear and respond to God's Word. Key to this endeavor is the use of a process called “deliberative dialogue” for finding hopeful avenues of action that engage both public theology and intentional civil discourse.

To learn more, visit 

And check out my new blog:

You can also "like" The Purple Zone Facebook page:

And follow the new Purple Zone Twitter feed for the latest on the intersection of religion, politics, preaching and the church:

Finally, stay tuned for an article about how preacher's rank the importance of preaching about God's Creation based on results of my survey.

And thanks for keeping up with the EcoPreacher!

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Trump’s “Presidential” Speech: The Stockholm Syndrome Begins

Leah D. Schade

Trump’s “presidential” speech to the joint session of Congress on Feb. 28 was a brilliant move.  He stayed with his script, was calm and measured, and offered one gem of grace and dignity.  Both Republicans and even some Democrats gave high ratings.  The Dow Jones Industrial Average soared to new heights.  The bipartisan crowd went wild. And that’s why this speech presents a new kind of danger.

The problem is that this speech is but one – perhaps the only one – time in Trump’s political career when he had any modicum of decorum and propriety.  When the bar is set so low, anything looking remotely better than his typical blustery hate-speech can suddenly be characterized as “unifying” and “optimistic.”  The result is that even some who have been battered by Trump’s campaign (including the major media outlets) and targeted by the executive orders and rhetoric of his first six weeks in office are so grateful for a moment of relief, they appear to be lured into thinking that maybe this is the “real” Trump.  That he actually is a unifier.  That he really does have the country’s best interest at heart.  That maybe it’s time for a “reset.” 

How can this be?  How can we forget the relentless assaults against women, Muslims, the LGBTQ community, people of color, immigrants, refugees, public health, the environment, public education, and even reality itself that have been perpetrated by Trump and his team since inauguration day, and during the entire past year?  How are we so lulled by the siren song of faux-respectability that we ignore the actual message of the speech (which continues a xenophobic, heteronormative, white supremacist, militaristic, anti-environmental agenda)?  How can we be echoing the calls to “give him a chance” when the people he has put into cabinet positions are there specifically to dismantle the institutions of public good?  How can we so quickly forget the real damage this administration has done to this country in just the past six weeks, let alone the harm planned for the future? 

It may be helpful to view these contradictory reactions by understanding the phenomenon known as the Stockholm Syndrome. 

First coined in 1973, the condition derives its name from the paradoxical situation that arose when hostages of a bank robbery in Stockholm, Sweden, developed sympathy for their captors and refused to testify against them in court.  Victims exhibiting Stockholm Syndrome irrationally and inexplicably come to defend those who abuse them.  At first, we may not understand how this can be.  But when we examine the pattern of mind-games used against the victims, we can start to see what’s actually happening.

Imagine a kidnapping victim who is periodically tortured, but is also shown moments of surprising kindness and humanity.  When this pattern is repeated enough times, a kind of brainwashing occurs whereby the victim clings to the delusion that their captor is actually beneficent, even as their wounds and bruises say otherwise.  Their insistence on defending their abductor is actually their psyche’s defense mechanism when survival is at stake.

Or imagine a spouse who sometimes threatens and abuses their partner, but other times appears charming and conciliatory.  In between the times of intimidation and bullying, the perpetrator punctuates the relationship with moments of grandiose gestures of goodwill and periods of relative peace.  This leads the victim to not only doubt that the abuse is happening, but also convince themselves that the “real” person they love is the sweet and kind persona shown on occasion, instead of the cruel monster who controls the relationship by gaslighting, manipulation and violence. 

When it comes to Trump, America – do not be fooled.  One “nice guy” speech does not a nice guy make.  The Stockholm Syndrome has begun, and we need to recognize that our collective fatigue weakens our resistance to the Bannon/Trump agenda. 

They know exactly what they are doing.  They are faking us out with this “presidential”-sounding speech, and all of a sudden even some of Trump’s harshest critics seem to be getting on board.  Employing Stockholm Syndrome tactics is enabling this administration to get away with a great deal of abuse that would never be tolerated under normal circumstances.  We need to be vigilant in identifying this pattern and recognizing it as a means by which to impose an autocratic rule.

As Dietrich Bonhoeffer said in his book, Ethics (which he wrote while resisting Hitler and the Third Reich), “It is worse for a liar to tell the truth than for a lover of truth to lie.” This is because “the liar contaminates everything he says, because everything he says is meant to further a cause that is false. The liar as liar has endorsed a world of falsehood and deception, and to focus only on the truth or falsity of his particular statements is to miss the danger of being caught up in his twisted world,” (Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, “Dietrich Bonhoeffer,”

In other words, if we focus only on this one particular speech, we will miss the danger of being caught up in the twisted world of despotism that the Bannon/Trump Administration is creating. Make no mistake – this regime is in no way backing down.  Bannon/Trump intend to do everything they promised, so we should not feel any reassurance from this speech or any future instances of fake-presidentialism. 

Instead, we need to remember these instructions for surviving an autocracy by Masha Gessen, a student of Russian totalitarianism:

* Believe the autocrat. He means what he says. 
* Do not be taken in by small signs of normality.
* Be outraged.
* Don’t make compromises. 

On this point, Gessen’s words deserve a full quote, given the prescience of this piece [Autocracy: Rules for Survival”]:, which was written on Nov. 10, 2016, just two days after the election:

Democrats in Congress will begin to make the case for cooperation, for the sake of getting anything done—or at least, they will say, minimizing the damage. Nongovernmental organizations, many of which are reeling at the moment, faced with a transition period in which there is no opening for their input, will grasp at chances to work with the new administration. This will be fruitless—damage cannot be minimized, much less reversed, when mobilization is the goal—but worse, it will be soul-destroying. In an autocracy, politics as the art of the possible is in fact utterly amoral. Those who argue for cooperation will make the case . . . that cooperation is essential for the future. They will be willfully ignoring the corrupting touch of autocracy, from which the future must be protected.

The protection of the future is in our hands.  So keep your eyes open.  Understand the psychological tactics being used against us.  Check in with people you trust who can give you a reality check when the powers seem to be negating what you know to be true.  And keep reminding each other that the Stockholm Syndrome is already at work and must be resisted.

The Rev. Dr. Leah Schade is the Assistant Professor of Preaching and Worship at Lexington Theological Seminary (KY) and an ordained Lutheran minister (ELCA), though the views expressed in this post are her own and do not necessarily reflect the institutions she serves.  She is the author of the book Creation Crisis Preaching: Ecology, Theology and the Pulpit (Chalice Press, 2015).

Friday, February 24, 2017

The Preacher Persisted: Finding Courage in the Pulpit

The Rev. Dr. Leah D. Schade

I'm no stranger to push-back from people angered by a controversial sermon.  But a shift is happening in churches that is testing the mettle of even the most prophetic preachers.

I was recently invited to supply preach at a congregation to cover a colleague during his vacation.  I had been told by several different people that the congregation had a reputation of being a politically progressive church. So I crafted a prophetic sermon that engaged contemporary issues for the assigned lectionary readings for the day. In the sermon, I never referenced any political party or figure, but clearly named the systemic loss of an ethical and moral center in our country of late.  I also reiterated Moses’ call to follow God’s commandments to turn away from death and embrace life (Deuteronomy 30:15-20).  True to my commitment to include God’s Creation in my preaching where appropriate, I critiqued the ways we have abused this Earth in violation of the command to choose life.  But I ended by pointing out that God is still at work calling people to rise up in defense of the vulnerable and answering the call to justice along with people of other faiths and nonreligious people of good will (you can read my blog post based on the sermon here).

The reactions of the listeners in the days following the sermon revealed a much more politically diverse congregation than I expected.  The pastor told me he had received numerous emails and phone calls from his parishioners – some who had expressed appreciation for the sermon, and some who expressed strong anger at what I had preached.  So the pastor asked if I would be willing to come back to the church to talk about the sermon with anyone who wanted to discuss it further. 

I was open to this suggestion for several reasons.  First, my current research is exploring how Mainline Protestant pastors handle sermons on controversial issues, so I saw this as an opportunity to hear first-hand from parishioners about this very topic. Second, as a seminary professor of preaching and worship who requires students to receive constructive critique of their sermons, it’s only fair that I be willing to accept the same kind of feedback.  And third, my working hypothesis regarding preaching about controversial issues is that the process of deliberative dialogue is one way that we might heal our divisions, work toward civil discourse, and move the conversation forward in a productive way.  So in the spirit of scholarly inquiry, pastoral openness, and civic goodwill, I accepted the invitation to return to the church for a conversation.

The room was packed with over 20 people (they normally had just a handful of participants for these Wednesday evening “table talks”).  The pastor began by handing out a very helpful set of ground rules for discussion entitled “Touchstones for Creating Safe Space” from the Center for Courage and Renewal.  After leading us in prayer he then asked me to share with the group some opening remarks about how I had come to preach that particular sermon.  I explained that I had chosen to take a more prophetic approach to preaching the scriptural text based on my informed assumption that this congregation was open to sermons that directly addressed justice issues from a biblical perspective.  But, I continued, since then I had come to learn that there were strong reactions to the sermon, both positive and negative, and I was interested in hearing from those gathered what they wanted to share about the sermon.
From what I could tell, about half of the people in the room had a negative reaction to the sermon, and they shared the following kinds of responses:
* I don’t come to church to hear about political issues.  I don’t like to hear that.
* This sermon was just post-election whining.
* There was too much law and not enough Gospel.
* This sermon was too political.
* I was offended.  I feel you attacked me just because I voted for Trump.
Though there was not enough time for me to respond to these accusations, it was curious to me the kinds of things that were read into the sermon, especially the personalization of what was clearly a critique of systems and ethos, not individuals. (Exploring this phenomenon is a task for another time.) And I noted a general air of discomfort, indignation, and even scolding disapproval from those who offered their critiques.

Others, however, expressed thoughts that were exactly the opposite, with an overall tone of support, appreciation and even gratitude for the sermon.  They shared the following kinds of responses:
* The church should speak about these political issues.  Jesus never withheld himself from critiquing those in power.
* Moses was political and stood up to those who were abusing their power.
* I heard both Law and Gospel in this sermon because it invited us to find the center of our morals and ethics.
* I believe we are called to be caretakers of the environment as part of our baptismal vocation, and this sermon affirmed that for me.
* I found this sermon refreshing because it directly addressed issues I care about.
* The fact that so many of us have come together to discuss this sermon is a good thing.  We need to talk about these issues in the church.

Despite these positive rebuttals to the negative reactions to the sermon, the angriest voices were the loudest. There was one person in particular whose level of anger was so strong, my experience of her was that of being attacked.  She repeatedly interrupted me (breaking the agreed-upon rules of engagement) after she had demanded that I explain myself about a point in the sermon, and snidely ridiculed the safe space ground rules agreed upon by the group.  She also threatened that she would leave the church (which made no sense because this was just one sermon by a visiting preacher).  And she demanded to know if the pastor had vetted my sermon ahead of time, and if the synod (which oversees and coordinates the spiritual and organizational activities of its member congregations) didn’t have guidelines for what is allowed to be preached.  In other words (as I heard it), isn’t there some way we can silence this kind of preaching?  Can't we make her sit down and shut up?  I noticed several heads nodding in agreement with her.
At that point, I recalled what had happened to Senator Elizabeth Warren when Senator Mitch McConnell silenced her from reading Coretta Scott King’s letter when the Senate was debating whether or not to confirm Jeff Sessions as attorney general.  Warren was censured from speaking, and McConnell gave the following justification:  “She was warned.  She was given an explanation.  Nevertheless, she persisted.”
I know preaching during this time in our nation’s history is difficult, even painful.  The pushback can hurt. The consequences of people being angry, withdrawing their membership and their offerings, and threatening to shame you and even censure your proclamation of the scriptures are real.  I know because I’ve been hearing it from preachers around the country through my research, in conversations with pastoral colleagues, and because I’ve experienced it firsthand. 
But perhaps we preachers – especially those of us who are preaching while female – need to adopt our own version of this now-famous trio of sentences: 
The preacher was warned.

The preacher was given an explanation.

Nevertheless, the preacher persisted.


In the days since that lion’s den of a meeting, I am still committed to dialogue and hearing those with whom I disagree.  I know there is much to be learned and I remain steadfast in my hope that one way through this divisiveness is through honest respectful speaking and humble listening.
But here’s one thing I know:  I will not allow my prophetic preaching voice to be silenced. 

At my ordination, I made a vow to “preach and teach in accordance with the holy scriptures and the creeds and confessions” of the Lutheran church.  Thus I follow Martin Luther’s lead of calling out abuse of power when I see it and being willing to accept the consequences of my commitment to justice.  In that ordination vow I also promised that I would “lead God’s people by my own example in faithful service and holy living, and to give faithful witness in the world, that God's love may be known in all that I do.”  Thus, following the lead of another Lutheran minister – Dietrich Bonhoeffer – who took a bold prophetic stand against a dangerous and powerful regime, I am committed to ministering to those most vulnerable, and holding myself accountable to “the least of these” whom Jesus has identified as his own embodiment in this world (Matthew 25:31-46).      
As my good friend and colleague Emily Askew has reminded me, sometimes being prophetic entails loss.  If people threaten to leave because they are gnashing their teeth at the gospel, we may have to let them go in love, entrusting them to God’s care.  But if you’re avoiding preaching the hard stuff because you’re afraid of dividing the church, remember – those divisions are there with or without you.  You are simply called to witness to the reality of what is . . . and share the vision of what God is calling us to be.
This does not mean you should be partisan in your preaching, as in giving endorsement of a specific party or political individual.  But you have a protected right to offer a prophetic critique of words, policies, executive orders, and actions of any person, government, corporation or organization that holds power.  Remember – you are called to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ who never shied away from “talking politics,” which, in its truest sense is that which concerns the polis, the citizens.  Thus Jesus' ministry and preaching were absolutely political, which authorizes our ministry and preaching to address the concerns of the citizens as well.  
The key, of course, is how you preach politics.  One piece of advice I can offer at this point is to find a group of colleagues with whom you can share your sermons before you preach them, so that you can help each other navigate the Scylla of partisanship and the Charybdis of cowardice.  You do not have to be, nor should you be, a lone ranger in your ministry.  Find and cultivate trustworthy preaching partners and hold each other accountable while offering mutual gifts of wisdom and prudence.  (I'll be offering more guidance and best practices as my research on "preaching in the purple zone" continues, so I invite you to subscribe to this blog to see future posts.)  
So attend to your biblical exegesis with skill.  Apply your study of theology with integrity.  Let your pastoral heart beat for those you serve both inside and outside your church.  Pray with fierce trust in the God who called you.  And preach the gospel with persistent courage!

Leah Schade is the author of the book Creation-Crisis Preaching: Ecology, Theology and the Pulpit (Chalice Press, 2015). She is the Assistant Professor of Preaching and Worship at Lexington Theological Seminary in Kentucky, and an ordained minister of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.

Friday, February 17, 2017

How Can We Talk? Confessions of a Disillusioned Red-Cradle Christian

The Rev. Dr. Leah D. Schade

Susan M. Shaw, Professor of Women, Gender and Sexuality Studies at Oregon State University, has written an excellent article entitled “Dear White, Christian Trump Supporters: We Need to Talk,” which has articulated not only my thoughts, but also my experiences. Like Shaw, I was born in an area characterized as blue-collar and conservative (central Pennsylvania).  I grew up a church-going Republican in an upwardly mobile white working-class family.  I am what you might call a “red-cradle Christian.”  While my family attended a Lutheran church, I was also immersed in conservative Christianity through extended family. I spent the first half of my life in the hunting camps and at the picnic tables of red-state culture. In other words, White Christian Trump Voters, I was one of you.  I learned from you to cherish the forests and streams and rivers; to place the highest value on clean air and land; to see all people and all creatures as part of God’s family.

And following your encouragement to pursue education, work hard, and achieve the American Dream, I was the first in my family to go to college.  I worked my butt off through all levels of education to the PhD level (with tens of thousands of dollars of student loan debt to vouch for my not being a silver-spooned trust fund elitist). Along the way, the Christian values you instilled in me led me to discern a call to ministry. As an ordained pastor I have striven to faithfully serve congregations with people of many different races, different political affiliations, and varying degrees of economic privilege. And it was the Christian values you taught me in Sunday School and youth group that helped me to first recognize and then work to confront my racism, as well as to learn from those who have experienced true oppression.

But for some reason, the results of the Christian and Republican values you had invested in me have yielded a bitter return in your eyes.  I have emerged with progressive Christian convictions which, ironically, are a direct result of the red-cradle values I was taught.  And now I am viewed with hostility by Trump voters.  I sense that I am considered a traitor.  To make matters worse, I'm accused of not "listening" to you.

Friends, I have listened to you all my life and ministered to you as your pastor. I agree with Shaw – we do need to talk, but I don’t know how to talk with you anymore. Everything you taught me to value as a red-cradle Republican Christian child – caring for God's Creation, respecting civility, speaking and acting with honesty and integrity, practicing hospitality, following Jesus – I feel you have turned around and attacked through your rhetoric, your votes, and your hostile ideologically-driven actions. What am I to make of this? I am so frustrated, confused and confounded.  What common ground can we find for dialogue when that ground literally has been destroyed and poisoned?  How can I trust you when you are okay with voting for people who are hell-bent on destroying everything and everyone you taught me to value, right down to the forests and streams and air itself?

I am really struggling with this because I believe in the power of dialogue. I have built my life, my ministry, and now my work as a seminary professor (who happens to be writing a book on how to preach across the red/blue divide) on the firm conviction that by inviting all voices to the table to listen and learn, we can reach understanding and move forward for the good of all.  But I am reminded by my black friends, my gay friends, my Muslim friends, my Jewish friends, my Latina/o friends, my friends with disabilities, my environmentalist friends, my “foreign” friends, and my other-than-human friends within Creation that not everyone comes to the table as equals.  And my high hopes for civil discourse are bumping up against the harsh reality that my encouraging people to engage in dialogue would force my other-than-White-straight-male-Christian friends to a table where Trump supporters want them either silent, invisible, absent, subservient, enslaved, cast away, or even dead. 

Please understand, Trump-voting Christians, that I do hear you when you say do not consider yourself a racist, and that you resent being lumped in with white supremacists when all you really wanted was, say, small government, well-paying jobs, and protection from terrorism.  I regret that those needs and values have been fused with the Trump agenda, much of which I hope and pray you do not agree with (such as grabbing women’s genitalia and having big government control their bodies, lying and bearing false witness, worshiping false gods of money and power, and various other commandment-violations). 

Perhaps it feels to you the way many Muslims feel when they are accused of having the same horrific convictions as fundamentalist terrorists.  You’re right, it’s not fair that your values got hijacked by extremists.  But in the same way you expect Muslims to disavow those who do violence in their religion’s name, shouldn’t you also abide by the same expectations?  Isn’t there a point where you should speak out?  Haven’t we reached the place where you recognize that you must put aside your devotion to ideology and turn back to the Christian values you taught me?  

Even when it comes to sharing the same pew and the same communion table with you, I am in deep moral and existential distress.  Because, dear Trump-supporting friends, when the terms for talking together and worshiping together and sharing fellowship together mean negating everything you taught me to believe in, I am at a loss.  I feel like a hypocrite, that I’m selling-out, and that I am betraying the very God whom you taught me to honor and obey.

So, yes, I have been listening.  I have been doing what you told me to do. I continue to listen.  And that listening has opened my eyes, broken my heart, and driven me to my knees in prayer.  So it is my fervent hope that in my continued work on fostering dialogue, you will also listen with the same willingness to have your eyes opened, your heart broken, and your knees bent to look in the eyes of all those whom Jesus loves – especially the least of these within the human and other-than-human family.  I’m reaching out to you from the same red cradle we shared, and hoping you’ll look beyond to see an entire landscape of rainbow cradles that contain lives that are just as valuable to God as yours.

The Rev. Dr. Leah Schade is the Assistant Professor of Preaching and Worship at Lexington Theological Seminary (KY) and an ordained Lutheran minister (ELCA), though the views expressed in this post are her own and do not necessarily reflect the institutions she serves.  She is the author of the book Creation Crisis Preaching: Ecology, Theology and the Pulpit (Chalice Press, 2015).