I know that dragons aren’t necessarily on the tips of anyone’s tongues of late in our gender discussions, but I’ve heard enough about A) men protecting women and B) dragons standing in as part of the honorable man equation that it’s worth exploring.

It can be honorable to speak of “protecting” women. However, once we start speaking of men slaying dragons on behalf of their ladies, I find that the metaphor breaks down in some serious ways.

You see, I don’t believe in slaying dragons. I’m an English major.

When English majors are confronted with talk of contemporary dragon-slaying, they’re going to ask questions like this:

• Why are we obsessed with a Victorian reimagining of Medieval nobility?
• Why a dragon? Why not a tiger, grizzly bear, or angry camel?
• Does the dragon bear a certain literary value? Do dragons convey a sexual image of threatened chastity and honorable male sexuality? If there’s one thing that English majors know, it’s that sex is EVERYWHERE. So these dudes can either fess up to what sexual point they’re making with this dragon business or I’ll keep making suggestions.

Perhaps I’m just lazy, but I’m not the main character in the story that God’s writing. I was created to be a sidekick to a fellow sidekick. God didn’t make a hero and sidekick. He either made two heroes who work together or two sidekicks who help each other do things… like kick stuff in the side.

The more I look at how this protecting, chivalry, honor business ends up working out practically, we wind up with this dynamic where men are always in charge, watching out for the women, making the decisions, and figuring out what to do. Because when the dragon starts chomping on the peasants, the little woman isn’t going to beat him down with her spinning wheel.

Dragons are the business of men who have swords and muscles and facial hair.

Let’s take this metaphor of protection and manliness into the real world for a moment—where it basically falls to pieces.

Sometimes my wife has a rough day. Hey, she’s in graduate school and there are some crazy days she has to put in. I need to step it up and encourage her (I also do the cleaning and laundry, but I do them in awesome, manly ways that involve lots of violence and muscles).

Just the other day I was telling her how I could clearly see God working in her. That was a pretty nice, manly thing to do, eh?

But here’s the thing, I believe that my wife and I are equals. We learn from each other. We protect and support each other. And guess what? I was discouraged and insecure that day. So I told her about it. I mentioned that seeing her calling helped me accept that God has called me to write.

What followed was a very honest conversation about how we can both see God working in each other’s careers. It’s hard for us to see these things in ourselves, but when we look at each other, God’s hand couldn’t be clearer.

I needed my wife to protect me, to lead me, and to encourage me to keep on. She needed me too. We support each other, yielding and submitting as we sort out life together. To say I need to protect her as her dragon-slaying knight misses out on the mutual responsibility we have to guard one another.

We fight for one another in our marriage.

Before we lose ourselves in noble metaphors of mighty male, guardian knights who slay dragons for their ladies, let’s not forget that there are some dragons that only women can handle.

And maybe women really need to be defended from the people who say they’re defenseless.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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…

Generalizations about Generalizations

Perhaps the greatest limitation to such statements about the state of the church or particularly masculine or feminine traits is the limits of each person’s perspective. How many Christians and churches do we really know? Through my travels I’ve attended about 10 different churches and studied ecclesiology in seminary, and I still don’t feel like I have a handle on vast trends in Christianity.

Can we really speak with any kind of certainty about “the problem with the church” today?

The only generalization I feel comfortable making is that generalizations are generally unhelpful. One need only take a survey from who knows where and mix it with a personal anecdote to diagnose the church with a far-sweeping problem that can only be solved by an overly simplistic, half-baked idea.

Do We Have Problems with Men and Women in the Church?

This is a tougher matter to zero in upon, since so many people mean something different when speaking of a crisis with men or an overly “feminized” church. On the one hand, we can all agree that the church should have men and women fully involved in its ministry in one way of another. If one group is significantly more involved than the other, it’s fair to ask “why?”

However, once we start criticizing women for making the church too feminine, we run into a few major problems.

First of all, what exactly do we mean by “feminine”? The way the term is used, there’s an underlying assumption that feminine is naturally weak and bad, while masculine is strong and good. Lost in the shuffle are the deeper nuances of gender and the various exceptions we run into every day, such as when we meet a man who is very nurturing or a woman is very aggressive. I don’t think we really can pin down specific definitions here for masculine or feminine since real people defy them.

Secondly, any criticism about the church being too feminine begs the question, “How did women become so involved in the church?” I’m not a sociologist, but I’d guess that the social models of the 1950’s and 60’s (and beyond) had something to do with it. The men ran off to have careers and to drink beer in the back yard while the women raised families and kept the church going—or something like that.

Men complaining that the church became too feminine while they worked 50-60 hour weeks strikes me as a slap in the face to every woman who has served God in the church. Of course women are going to run most of the committees if the men are working all week!

Our Real Problem?

If we do have a problem with men not getting involved in the church, we at least don’t have a “feminine” church problem. We have men with a Holy Spirit problem. My guess is that every church is going to look a bit different, but so long as men are working long days and women are not, what do we expect will happen at our churches?

I’m not saying that men won’t be led by the Holy Spirit to work a normal week at the office. We need men and women to follow the Spirit wherever the Spirit leads them. I’m saying that we can’t blame women for becoming so involved in the church—as if men are the victims of women initiating a takeover of some sort where they prod pastors to do their bidding.

If we are going to have balanced congregations where men and women serve together in a relatively equal manner, our only hope is the leadership of the Spirit, not some vague notion of men becoming more manly or women somehow becoming less feminine. Such proclamations about masculinity and femininity make no sense and do us no good.

I’m far less concerned with “real” manhood or “real” womanhood. In the life given by Christ Jesus there is neither male nor female, and as a result the gifts of the Spirit are equally provided to us all.

May we find our true calling through the gentle whisper of the Spirit and ignore the loud voices clamoring for a gender-based counterfeit.

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…

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.

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.

Authorities may rule by virtue of their position, personality, celebrity, Bible knowledge, or power, but for Christian authority to actually benefit anyone, love is the one essential ingredient. Without love for others, authority is just a tool that the insecure or ambitious can use to consolidate their positions.

Yesterday I wrote that we need only listen to the critiques of Christians who are in relationship with us. Otherwise, we can make ourselves crazy trying to process every impersonal criticism that comes our way through the magic of the internet. Along similar lines, we need only listen to authority figures who guide us in love—otherwise we’ll get tangled up in someone else’s personal agenda.

In other words, when a denominational leader or a celebrity pastor condemns something I believe, I can first of all ignore that person’s words because they are not spoken in a relationship. Along the same lines, I should also have a loving authority figure in my life who CAN speak a redemptive word in my life if I do ever step out of line.

It’s possible that many of us have mainly seen poorly exercised authority and we don’t realize it can be done well. I’m grateful that I’ve seen lots of loving authority exercised among fellow Christians. Here are some benefits we receive when we have loving authorities:

We Can Better Follow God’s Calling

Since I know that certain people can challenge me in a loving and redemptive way, I am free to think and write about any topic I feel compelled to explore. As a writer, I need this freedom to let my mind wander and explore some natural progressions of ideas. However, I feel more free to do this because I know that people who care about me will help me if my thinking follows some faulty directions.

The same may go for someone who serves in a tough ministry situation. If you have loving authority over you, it’s much easier to serve others because you’ll have someone who can restore you if you ever step out of line. In fact, the right kind of loving authority will help prevent you from stepping out of line.

We Can Ignore the Non-Loving Authorities

Over the years I have seen many pastors learning how to exercise their authority with love. Some have failed in particular situations, but I’ve also seen them grow in their grace and mercy toward others. Their examples have helped me detect non-loving authorities who are trying to exercise control over others or who condemn large groups of Christians under the banner of guarding truth or whatever it is such people claim to be doing.

When you have the security of loving authority in your life, you’ll detect the bad authorities and ignore them.

We Can Be Restored When We Fall

Non-loving authorities focus on protecting their positions and themselves, and that makes them the worst possible people to restore those who fall. When I fail, I often feel pretty awful to begin with, and that means I need someone to both pray for my restoration and to encourage me. Those are things only a loving authority would bother to do because they require empathy and self-sacrifice.

Part of living at peace with other believers who are united to us through the Spirit is recognizing those who are most relationally invested in us as friends and authorities. We have our divisions when it comes to particular topics, and we need not make things worse by joining ourselves with unknown, unloving authorities.

I’ll wrap up this series tomorrow by discussing another way that we are divided in the midst of our unity: the seasons of belief.