:: in.a.mirror.dimly ::

I once heard John Perkins, a pastor, author, and civil rights leader, describe a conversation that exploded my notions of Christianity. It’s probably going to do the same thing for you.

Perkins, a man who had actually reconciled with the murderer of his brother, said that he had recently finished speaking at a church when a young woman approached him. She said something like this, “My grandmother supported segregation, but she was a dedicated Christian who was nice to everyone.”

Perkins replied, “Well, your grandmother was a bigot!”

Sometimes being a nice Christian isn’t enough when you’re contributing to injustice. Being nice doesn’t undo the degrading of another person.

I write this dressed in clothing that may have been made by poorly treated workers on a computer that was almost certainly manufactured by workers who were overworked and underpaid. Am I part of the problem? How can I doubt that?

I some days wonder if I have any integrity to speak of justice. I try to do things here and there to serve the poor, and I still struggle with the fact that I profit from injustice. However, I’m doing a few things to address injustice where I’m at, and one of the areas where I feel called to speak is with inequality and women. I write this as someone trying to undo a few wrongs, even if there is much that remains to be done.

Where I’m Coming From

I want to begin by explaining that I believe women are created to be fully equal to men. I know there are some Christians who disagree with that, saying that God created a kind of hierarchy. I used to belong to that camp, but I don’t any more. I’m not going to argue points.

I only want to say that I am one of many Christians who believes in gender equality because I find that the most compelling way to read scripture. I tried the other way, and too many passages from scripture fell apart in the process, forcing me to pick and choose which ones to take “literally.”

That’s just my story and my perspective. I believe the Bible makes men and women equal in the image of God. I understand that some followers of Jesus disagree with me.

What I Hear

When I hear someone argue that the Bible makes women somehow unequal to men, there really isn’t any way to dress up that perspective for me. As a former member of that camp, I understand there’s no malice intended. I know there’s a simple desire to obey the Bible.

Some even try to be nice about it.

Whether nice or judgmental toward me, I keep hearing the same thing: injustice. Saying that women are anything other than what God made them to be smacks  me as flat out wrong. There are two irreconcilable perspectives here.

We can’t find middle ground. Women are either fully equal to men in God’s created order or they’re not. Even if I hear nice words coming from those who deny that equality, I still hear injustice. I can’t help that.

How I React

Though I understand that few, if any, people who “downgrade” women are malicious in their intent, I still find myself reacting strongly with waves of heartbreak and anger. It’s hard to fight back these feelings as I hear someone tell a woman she is somehow less in the sight of God—even if it’s dressed up “nice” as a different calling.

I know that we can’t make a one to one correspondence with racism here. I’m not out to paint anyone as a villain. However, anyone denying the equality of women believes in something that is unjust in my reading of scripture, and it devastates me in so many ways.

In writing all of this, I hope I can at least explain why these discussions about women and ministry and women and equality become so emotionally charged. Both sides really do want to remain true to the Bible. I have no doubt in my mind about that since I’ve belonged to both camps here.

However, I can also sense that those who support full equality have an edge, even a chip on their shoulders that isn’t always understood. We aren’t just having a theology debate here. We’re talking about the something so deeply personal and powerful for half of the people on this planet. This is a matter that can literally alter the life choices of thousands if not millions of women. This is an issue that ties into personal worth as much as it does to ministry and theology.

I don’t think those who quote scriptures about women remaining silent understand the hornet nest they’re stirring up. I’m not saying we can’t have these discussions, but I think we should only enter into them with two things in mind:

• A full commitment to actually having a discussion where we share our stories and how we arrived at our beliefs rather than fighting to convert one side to the other.
• An understanding that so much is at stake for those who believe in equality—enough that it may be hard to keep a cool head.

Equality for women is one of those issues where I’m continually reminded that the internet is a terrible place for discussion and debate. I hope each side continues to recognize that God is working among them. I hope discussions continue to happen in the appropriate forums. I hope that we can build more understanding.

At the same time, we’re arguing over a matter of justice—at least one side of this debate is. The stakes are high. Denying the equality of women with a nice, rational argument stings every bit as bad as a caustic remark. That’s just the reality we have. May God give us wisdom and grace to know when to keep our comments to ourselves and to dispense grace and peace instead of conflict.

There is one question you can ask while studying the Bible that will help you see more, learn more, and hopefully apply more than you ever could by just reading the stories.

The Bible is full of people who were just like us. It was written by people just like us. The details are there, tucked away in the spare prose and poetry. The trouble is how to unlock those details so that we can relate to the people in the Bible and sort out what it means for us.

We’re not used to reading books like the Bible. There are a lot of ways that’s true, but one obvious detail is that the Bible wasn’t typed on a computer with infinite pages. The writers of the Bible couldn’t pick up legal pads at Staples or drop off a manuscript at a printing press.

The Bible was written on scrolls—precious, limiting scrolls that could only hold so much. Long-winded writers need not apply for writing the Bible.

These authors were masterful in their economy of words. They distilled stories down to the most important details. If we see something in the Bible, no matter how small the detail, we need to ask, “Why is this here?”

This one question will help you dig into the backstory and the implied situations described in each story.

There are lots of other really good questions that will help you study Bible. However, this one question:

• Forces us to slow down
• Helps us read carefully
• Places us in the events recorded with new eyes

If we can answer the question, “Why is this here?” we may be able to figure out what the Bible has to say to us. We may find hidden treasures. We may even find out why we’re here.

Working in public spaces, mainly cafes, provides no end of opportunities to evaluate and judge people. I like to think that I’m really good at this. That is, until I realize I’m an awful person. Then I just downgrade myself to so-so at judging others.

Some conversations I happen to overhear. Other times the conversations boom from their sources, invading the ears of everyone within twenty feet. Even my headphones can’t save me. Yes, some people talk THAT LOUD in public.

While listening to conversations, I often catch myself classifying people into types. There are the super-impractical professor types who theorize all day, the bumper sticker activists who are awesome at talking loud and bumping into me when they walk by, and the religious groups who gather for one on one Bible study or “training” that often devolves into us vs. them conversations of one sort or another.

The moment I sort people into groups, I begin to either dismiss them or to develop common cause with them. And here’s the crazy thing: I don’t even know these people, but I’m already sorting out in my head the people I’d rather have over for a cup of tea with us and our rabbits.

All of this is based on looking at how people are dressed and hearing snippets of conversations. Once I create these divides, it’s infinitely harder to be kind to people when I’ve pegged them as too liberal, too conservative, too lazy, too combative, too quirky, too impractical, etc.

I think something happens online as well. We see a profile picture of someone, read a snippet of text on Twitter or Facebook, and we immediately stick people into groups. We write up profiles for people we hardly know, bulldozing over the complexities of their lives and the experiences that shaped who they are.

What gets me is that my type classification system destroys personal stories. While we often adopt the beliefs that our families, friends, and institutions pass on to us, it’s also important to note that our beliefs and actions are shaped by our stories. Speaking for myself, my stories have everything to do with how my beliefs have evolved over time.

For example, a reader of my website may read my reluctance to support the wars of the United States and immediately classify me as some kind of liberal, pacifist, wussy who hates American or whatever. However, you can’t understand my feelings about modern warfare until you learn about the ways war has impacted my family and friends, the research I’ve done, and the stories I’ve gathered together.

Knowing this about myself, I need to extend this same complexity and mystery to others. As I think about Christians living in peace with one another, to say nothing about any other daily interaction, this tendency to pre-sort people into groups and types before actually hearing their stories cuts us off from opportunities to love people for who they are, right where they’re at.

When I catch myself thinking that someone is a “type,” I need to repent. I need to ask God for new eyes and grace to share. However, I still think all bets are off for people who don’t have an inside voice.

Last week I watched my friends and colleagues share a video by a young man who claimed to love Jesus and hate religion. Some identified with his passion for Jesus and his desire to leave hypocrisy behind. Others weren’t so sure he could slam the religious practices that can be so central to following Jesus with sincerity, let alone the religious tradition that has been passed on to us.

Those who had their doubts about this young man suggested that religion isn’t just bad stuff. Religion can be anything from regular Bible reading to reading liturgy to fasting. We can do all of these things with either sincere or hypocritical hearts. In response to that, the supporters of the young man said, “You’re not defining religion in the same way as him.” To that I say: EXACTLY!

If anything, this young man has succeeded in proving that we need theology today, and for that, I thank him. Any time we see well-meaning holy fervor expressed with a jumble of confusing ideas, we see a need for theology. We can’t “just love” Jesus because no one has been able to do that—ideas always creep in no matter what. There is no pure way to love Jesus that can transcend the beliefs and practices that have been passed on to us. We always attach something “religious” to our worship, and if we try to break free from the past, we’ll just make up new religious things to pass on to others.

Theology helps us because it defines what we’re talking about. Theology constructs a common playing field where we can sort out what religion actually is and all that it means. Theology saves us from turning religion into this huge, enormous, awful embodiment of everything we hate.

This isn’t to say that theology wants to “save” religion. Rather, theology helps us see what it is and what it isn’t. In fact, every theologian I know approached his video from a similar perspective—trying to grapple with the ways this young man defined religion. If we fail to define religion, its advantages, and its disadvantages accurately, we’ll cut ourselves off from traditions, beliefs, and practices that have been instrumental in guiding Christians for centuries. We may also expose ourselves to reinventing Jesus into our own image without the stabilizing influence of tradition.

The downside of theology is that it can be quite dull. In fact, the problem with most theology texts is they begin by defining their terms at length and describing the current book’s position in an ongoing discussion. This is rather dull, thankless work that is hard to present to the average reader.

I struggled to present the basics of theology in an accessible format in Coffeehouse Theology only for one reviewer to say it was too simplistic to be of any use and another reviewer to say that I’d lost touch with how to communicate with normal human beings.

When we want to make sweeping statements about religion and our beliefs, we’re crossing into complex, daunting territory. I don’t slam this young man for his sincerity or desire to share his love for Jesus. I don’t think anyone is interested in that. Rather, this is a word of caution to make sure we know what we’re talking about when we speak of such large things as “religion.”

This Jesus vs. religion thing has been around for years. There were plenty of books and blog posts about it before YouTube was a sketch in a computer engineer’s notebook. As long as we have had this discussion, we have struggled to define what religion means. For most of us, religion has come to mean “anything we didn’t find life-giving in Christianity.”

Theologians can help us sort out religion, Jesus, and what it means to follow Jesus without tossing the good things that have been passed down to us. And even if we can’t figure out what they’re talking about in their thick books with tiny text, we should at least know that the number one rule for any theology discussion is this: define your terms.

Every now and then I run into a statement like this: “The problem with the church is that it’s too feminine.” Other times I hear: “We need men to stand up and… and… be… MEN!”

I think these folks don’t know what they’re really saying.

These folks may have an idea in their minds of what this looks like, but if you asked them to really explain such things in detail, the training wheels of these undeveloped thoughts fall off.

I’ve been thinking about all of this for years now, and yesterday I finally put some thoughts together…

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I tend to be on the more suspicious end of things when it comes to trends in the Christian blogging world. If I want to make myself sound virtuous, I’ll say that I’m discerning. If I want to confess I vice, I could say that I’m critical and a tad grumpy.

When I heard that a bunch of people were choosing “one word” as a kind of resolution for the coming year of 2011, I confess that my discernment/critical nature kicked into high gear. I can’t say why I was suspicious. I knew very little about it. I just saw that it was becoming a trend.

There are enough “trends” in the Christian world that I think you can’t help becoming suspicious. So many trends are based on flawed theology or at least an imbalanced perspective of discipleship. Need I mention the “me first” prayer of Jabez that Americans love?

I can’t remember the exact details, but one day in late 2010 I was praying and God started to work on my critical attitude. In fact, God gave me a word for 2011: redemptive. At first I was a bit miffed at the Holy Spirit. “Dang it! You fell for this trend too?” As I reflected on what that word could mean for 2011, I realized that God was converging a bunch of stuff that had been accumulating for years.

I realized that God wanted to use me to bring healing, growth, and hope. I began to look at everything I did through the lens of what lead to “redemption.” Were my words and actions helping someone heal or grow into a place of restoration and wholeness?

That really messed up my year in the best way possible. I had to delete a lot of potential blog post and book ideas. My arrogance and selfishness appeared over and over again.

I could tell all kinds of stories about the past year, but two significant projects arose out of that word: “redemptive.” One is my series of guest posts in 2012 called the Women in Ministry Series. I hope to offer an alternative to the women in ministry debate by sharing the stories of women who are actually in ministry.

Rather than slinging scripture at one another, I think it’s time that we just acknowledged that we’re divided on this one. While we all serve the same Lord, it’s time for those of us who believe in the role of women in ministry to find ways to encourage more women to pursue God’s calling for their lives. I also hope that those with a more limited view of women in ministry will be challenged to reexamine scripture after reading some stories in this series.

Along similar lines, I also began rewriting a series of blog posts on unity and exploring some practical principles of Christian unity. I have been putting these practical thoughts on Christian unity together in an E-book titled Divided We Unite. It will be released this January. A lot of our faith-fights can be traced back to trying to force unity where there can only be division, while also losing sight of what truly binds us together as followers of Jesus.

In an extreme understatement, my one-word for 2011 radically changed my ministry and work.

Is There a Word for 2012?

I don’t want to just “think” of another word for 2012 just to have one. Perhaps that was my skepticism of this project at the outset. We’d all just think something like, “Ooooh, this is cool! Let me think of a word… How about ‘awesomeness’?”

However, there is something to this format that really works. I think God likes to speak to us in simple ways, and just listening for one word can take a lot of pressure off us, making it easier to hear the Spirit speak.

The One Word website talks about the power of the word: “if you let it, your word will shape you and your year. It will guide your decisions and help you grow.” I think really does miss something. Like I said, I’ve got that critical edge to me. What you or I choose for ourselves doesn’t mean all that much in terms of life change and discipleship. The power here comes from focusing on what God wants to do in and through us. To that end, God can use this One Word project to help us focus on what he wants to accomplish in our lives.

Setting aside “skeptical me,” I asked God if he had a word for me in 2012, and I sensed that he certainly did: freedom.

In an election year, we’ll be hearing a lot about “freedom” and “liberty.” Most of the time these words will mean being able to do whatever we want. Freedom is often linked with individualism and individual rights. It can mean that, but I think God wants to teach me about freedom with boundaries and interdependence on others.

God’s freedom restricts us in some ways so that we are truly “free” to be the people he made us to be. One practice that has already started is the practice of saying a simple prayer each morning where I “offer my day” to God. He’s been impressing on me that living as a disciple who is free from sin and who is able to serve God means taking an intentional step at the start of each day. Paul often writers about “offering ourselves to God.”

This exploration of freedom is both exciting and challenging. The results are tantalizing, but the road forward will no doubt be filled with restrictions and struggles.

Who knows what could happen in 2012 with a word like freedom…

This isn’t a post about God having a smite button. The results I describe are not unlike smiting, but they are entirely self-inflicted. I’m talking about the call to follow Jesus as a disciple and the daily moments we have to choose between obedience and our own plans.

I’ve learned that God lets us resist him. We can fight against God. However, we often won’t like the results. When I have said “no” or “wait” to God, I’ve discovered one of the following: frustration, anxiety, anger, or sadness. Sometimes I get a mix of them all.

I was reading the story of Elisha yesterday, and I began to wonder what would have happened if he resisted the wardrobe change that Elijah suggested for him. What if Elisha said, “No thanks. I’d rather hang here at my cozy estate and keep plowing with the oxen than put my life at risk with that crazy king of Israel!”

Here is where interpretation ceases and a little creative speculation comes into play. Sure, Elisha would have enjoyed some great years at his farm. But if you know the story of Elisha, which I heartily recommend, God repeatedly used Elisha to give the Israelites victory over the invading Arameans. When Samaria was surrounded, God spoke through Elisha and brought deliverance to the people of Israel.

What would have happened if Elisha had refused God’s call for his life?

We can only guess about the various scenarios that would have unfolded, but here are a few suggestions:

Elisha Would Have Struggled with Greed

If he had remained at his substantial farm with his 12-yoke of oxen workforce, Elisha would have continued to enjoy financial security. He never would have known God with the same intimacy as a prophet. In fact, he would have most likely struggled with greed, and who knows what could have happened from there.

Israel Would Have Been Destroyed

Without Elisha’s God-given guidance, the Arameans would have most likely captured the capital and occupied the rest of the country. Elisha would have eventually lost his farm and oxen at the end of the day.

The Worship of God Would Have Suffered

Faithful prophets of the Lord had it rough back in Elisha’s day. They had endured serious persecution under Ahab’s queen Jezebel, and even Elijah had fled in terror at her threats. Elisha helped fight against idol worship and kept his fellow believers on track. 

What’s at Stake for Us?

The story of Elisha reminds me that the decisions I make about obedience can have incredible ramifications for both my own future and the future of others. In addition, saying no to God does not guarantee safety or happiness. In fact, taking a big risk for God and watching God provide is a far safer place to be—even if the process feels anything but “safe.”

God doesn’t delight in making us miserable. He doesn’t use a smite button when we disobey him in this world. He lets us have what we want. When we repent and seek out his desires for us, the self-smiting will cease, and we’ll find peace even in the midst of facing challenges at the prompting of God.

I was careful to avoid saying that I would never go to church again, but it was certainly hard to imagine how it would ever happen again. Nine years ago I left a season of rooted stability in my faith and entered into a six-year season of transition into another expression of Christianity.

The basics remained the same, but over that time my perceptions of the church, salvation, the mission of God, the ministry of the church, and my own life calling passed through a major, major overhaul. I don’t know if you’ve ever done major renovations on a house before, but much like house renovations, my faith renovations were not pretty.

I was angry, frustrated, and disappointed at various times. I had a hard time tolerating those who remained rooted with their faith in tact. Sometimes I struck out at them, and sometimes they struck out at me for asking unsettling questions.

I’m now in a season of relative stability, rooted in a take on God that fits my limited perspective. As I look back over the past nine years of transition, I can see how others around me are in similar seasons of being either rooted or transitioning.

• Some have been disappointed by Christianity for various reasons and left the faith.
• Some have switched from one denomination to another.
• Some are still wandering.
• Some have found loving Christian community in new places that had previously been off their radar.

If we hope to keep the unity of Christ in the midst of our divisions, we need to understand these seasons. Besides our divisions over beliefs and practices, we can also divide over our seasons of belief.

At the risk of oversimplifying things, here are three seasons I have observed:

The Rooted Season of Faith

Many of us are in a rooted season in our faith where we have a certain level of comfort with our understanding of the Bible, our spiritual practices, and the ways we serve others. Those who are rooted need to be aware of welcoming those who are sprouting in their faith and have yet to find their place, while also remaining patient with those who are being transplanted.

The Transplant Season of Faith

For some of us who have been rooted in one spot for a while, sometimes the old answers and ways of doing things stop making sense. We all have our different reasons for pulling up our roots and moving elsewhere, though sometimes wider trends emerge.

Transplants are often in vulnerable positions, as they don’t feel like they fit anywhere, their beliefs have been shaken in some way, and they may be hurting enough to become combative. The hardest thing for a rooted person is patiently loving an argumentative transplant. I reached a point during my own transplant process that I actually couldn’t go to church for a season because I wasn’t in a healthy place to deal with it.

Besides spreading conflict, another problem with transplants is they sometimes rush into something new without dealing with their previous hurts and disappointments. I saw this a lot with folks who were disappointed by the church and then jumped right into house churches or emerging churches without seeking healing first.

The Sprouting Season of Faith

On the opposite end of the spectrum from the more jaded transplants are the sprouts, Christians who are still enthusiastic about their faith. The danger with sprouts is transplants can snuff out their zeal with their grievances, while those who are rooted may fail to reach out to them and nurture them in the faith.

A sprout can wither easily and get trampled down if it isn’t guarded with care. Sprouts will have lots of questions and they may feel overwhelmed by the maturity of those with deep roots. Those who are rooted must make sure they protect the sprouts from storms and hard times, ensuring they receive the nourishment from God they need so badly.

Besides different beliefs and practices, Christians differ with their seasons of faith. I’m sure there are folks who would claim to be hybrids or something different altogether, but these three seasons keep coming up for me. When we understand the seasons of faith of those in our communities, we’ll be able to love them right where they’re at today.

Do these seasons of faith make sense to you?

Have you passed through a season of transition or of being rooted?

As a veteran of Catholic elementary school and a survivor of fundamentalism, I like to think of myself as rather experienced in the realm of poorly exercised authority. My elementary school seemed to teem with sadistic teachers who only knew how to punish us in groups because of the one undiagnosed ADD kid.

At their worst, the fundamentalists figured out a way to make the Bible feel like my sadistic Catholic school teachers—a guide to the punishments we’re bound to receive unless we’re perfect. As a child, most of the religious authority figures I knew were rather heavy on the guilt and punishment end of things, save for a few women who were amazing teachers and Christians.

Attaching the word “loving” with authority strikes me as impossible in some unguarded moments, and yet, for Christians, this is really the only way authority truly works.

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One of my fondest memories of seminary is lunch time. The first generation Korean students gathered at a table and opened their Tupper wares to share with one another. I was even invited to pick up some chop sticks in join them at times.

Meanwhile, the occasional middle-aged pastor who had forgotten to bring a lunch would survey the vending machines with dread, knowing that the cheeseburger in a plastic bag would be his best option. He delayed that decision as long as possible.

Once a month we had a guest speaker come for a pizza lunch. Just about the entire seminary turned out for these events, filling the cafeteria and giving us all a chance to see each other and to catch up. These lunches gave us something that is essential when a bunch of people from a variety of backgrounds and relationships gather together to talk about God: relationships.

Do We Speak Truth in Relationships?

I love the way that ideas and conversations can spread on the internet, but the most significant drawback is the relational void that can occur in some online “conversations.” That isn’t to say that relationships can’t happen—they do. I’m just saying that we can now enter into conversations where we know nothing of the people participating in them.

Consequently, we don’t understand where someone is coming from and we’re not all that invested in seeking the best for that person. We just see a pile of text that challenges something important to us. There’s no prospect of seeing that pile of text at the next community lunch.

The Difference That Relationships Make

I’m certainly all for sharing my ideas online and hearing out those who disagree with me. However, I’ve observed some interesting dynamics. For example, though I’m a committed Arminian, many of my closest friends since childhood remain Calvinists. Although my childhood church is complementarian in their views toward women, and I have changed to egalitarian, I would pay close attention to the opinions of my pastors should they even contact me with a concern about my writing.

It actually can be quite easy to be friends with people we know who believe differently from us. Of course we all have experienced exceptions to this.

Who Should We Listen To?

As a general rule, I put the most stock in the opinions of the people who know me the best. Starting with my wife and some family members, I also pay close attention to friends, pastors, and colleagues. It is both unhealthy and impossible to acknowledge every opinion online as a kind of authority for our lives, and yet, it’s often tempting to do just that—even if we think we need to challenge these voices.

Who Should We Ignore

The tricky part about blogging is that I need to remain open to conversations with folks from a variety of perspectives, but I also can’t let a challenge from someone who doesn’t know me rattle my cage. I can’t lose sleep over the stuff coming from denominational leaders, celebrity pastors, and groups that would condemn someone like me.

They’re free to believe as they wish and I recognize their place in the church, but their critiques are also irrelevant to me. They have nothing invested in my own spiritual growth or the growth of my community, and therefore the best thing I can do is to seek accountability among those who desire to see myself and my community grow. While I seek guidance from perspectives outside of those who agree with me, a relational investment is critical.

Recognizing the Benefits of Authority

Having set some boundaries around the opinions I care most about, I want to make it clear that within the confines of relationships and becoming personally invested in one another, I also highly value the place of authority. We all need pastors and friends who care enough about us to challenge us to change. Tomorrow I’ll write about the freedom that comes from loving, relational authority.