The solution I’ve played with and finally settled on is to take Thursdays off. I’ll either share guest posts or some highlights from blogs I’ve been reading. This gives me a little more breathing room and enables me to recommend my favorite blogs. That’s something I’ve been meaning to do for quite some time now, and I’m glad that I can finally make it happen.

Check out Ray Hollenbach’s post: Jesus, Friend of Pharisees

Ray writes, “The same man who welcomed Matthew the tax collector was also friends with Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea.”

Lore Ferguson has a beautiful post about the tension between worship and fear: Kissing Fear

Lore writes, “Worship. Fear. Be in awe. Draw near…”

Sarah Bessey has an eerily similar story to my own about heartbreak and restoration in the church. The difference is that she writes about it with way more passion and poetry than literal ole’ me. This post will make your day: In Which God Has Restored Church to Me

Sarah Writes: “Six years ago, Brian left full-time vocational ministry and, you who have walked this road with us, you know, it’s been a journey. We were so burnt out, so exhausted, so broken hearted and part of me, a big part of me, never wanted to darken the door of a church again. ”

Kristin Tennant wants you to Learn How to Be Bored Again, and I think she’s right on.

Kristin writes, “I’ve been thinking about time not as currency, but rather as space. ”

I hope you enjoy these posts. I’ll be sharing the Women in Ministry Series guest post tomorrow, and then Monday I’ll pick up where we left off with my Belonging in Church series. Thanks for stopping by!

Today I’ll spend an hour over lunch with a buddy talking about the three primary elements of Christian faith—our Creator, Savior and Guide—in the most real and practical ways.

We’ll talk about the hope that’s found in having a Creator—a loving Deity who exists beyond what we can see and hear. One whose existence speaks to our deep desire that when we close our eyes for the last time, we’ll have a spiritual world in which to live for eternity.

We’ll talk about our need for a Savior—one to cleanse us from all past sins and forgive us our daily trespasses. (It only takes a few minutes into our salads to acknowledge the pesky stumbling blocks on our way toward “perfection”—something I, more than anyone, have yet to achieve. Maybe next week.)

We’ll end up talking about our need for a Guide—the Holy Spirit—to help us deal with all of life’s issues and trials. We need One to remind us that no matter what our situation, there’s a way of life that brings joy and peace.

I’m convinced this is a regular conversation every Christian can have—with any other Christian. The core elements of faith are found in the simplicity of knowing a Creator, Savior and Guide—something I affectionately refer to in my book as “C-S-G.” Of course, anything as complex as God’s amazing reality can’t be reduced to “three simple steps.” I’m not advocating that at all.

Good theology is complex for a good reason. When it comes to Christians actually walking the talk, we’re all called to a simpler faith. Everyone starts their spiritual journey—and sustains it—based on three core elements: C-S-G: Creator, Savior, Guide.

The problems come with the “extras”—the man-made add-ons. In the book I call these divisive traits our distinctives—the unique ways we “do church” in the world of Christianity (When I speak of “Christianity,” I’m talking about all faith groups who embrace the concept of the Trinity). There’s nothing wrong with believers approaching the journey differently—as long as we have respect for those whose approach is different from ours. Too often we dismiss those who aren’t in step with our distinctives. We end up creating an “us vs. them” mentality within the walls of Christianity.

This issue of distinctives, more than any other, is what drives good people away from church. When these things become the dominant focus—stressing who’s right and who’s wrong—people get fed up and leave. Who can blame them?

I want more than anything to help disconnected believers find their way back to faithful, thriving Christian community. Deep down, our alienated brothers and sisters long to be in fellowship. It’s on us in the church to make a way for that to happen. I outline ways to do this in my book—and I’ve personally seen it happen for dozens of disaffected Christians I know. By boiling down the core of faith to its essentials, we help people reconnect with their Creator, Savior and Guide—and that makes it easier for them to stay in the game.

Christian community is what I want to bring these disconnected believers back to. I am so convinced that only in community can we reach our highest level of spiritual growth. Only in community do we have other brothers and sisters in the faith to share with and ask for prayer and guidance in this ever turbulent world in which we live.

I know for me, when I was disconnected from my faith community for a while, I felt alone and God was my only comforter. Now, God is the supreme comforter, but I can tell you that it has made a huge difference when I eventually came back to Church and then back to relationship with other believers. It is in those relationships with other believers that we can be real and vulnerable and live out what Christ was trying to create with the disciples. He was investing his life into theirs so they could experience the richness of a Christ centered community.

I wrote A simpler Faith so that those who have been away from Christian community for any length of time could enjoy that kind of connection with other believers once again.

Learn more about Ed’s upcoming book A Simpler Faith here.

Ed Galisewski is a real life “Joe Palooka”—a big, good-natured guy. A men’s ministry leader for fifteen years, Ed has ministered to literally thousands of people. He has been in and out (and in again) of church, learning to overcome his own struggles with the institution while still loving the body of Christ.

Ed and his wife Lynette live in Littleton Colorado with their two children son Braun and daughter Bryn.

Luther’s phrase, “Here I stand, I can do nothing else” comes to mind.

That rule became a ticking time bomb.

When your belief system requires obedience to the Bible above everything else, you’ve essentially created a standard that is above your belief system. Where the Bible leads, you must follow, even if that dismantles your other beliefs.

For as much as I love the Bible and look to it as a key source of direction in my faith, I can also see how reliance on the Bible alone creates churches full of mini-Luthers who are all taking stands all over the place. This simple observation is almost enough to explain the tumultuous history of Protestantism that continues today in online spats and denominational divides.

Everyone is quite concerned about figuring out where to stand. If Luther took a stand once, shouldn’t I do the same?

After obsessing for years over where I stand, I’ve been wondering if a more helpful matter is figuring out how we got where we are—the walking of yesterday rather than the standing of today. Here are three things I’ve learned by looking at where I’ve come from rather than where I stand:

How Awesome Am I?

Focusing on where I stand gives myself too much credit. Did I really figure all of this out? Nope. I have benefited from those who came before me.

Am I awesome? Not very. Even Luther would probably call me a swine or a fart bag—he was a pretty crass fellow.

I owe just about everything to those who came before me.

How Objective Am I?

When I step back to look at the circumstances that helped give birth to what I believe and do as a follower of Jesus, I gain a really helpful perspective. Not only have  I not made up everything I believe, but I’m taking on a set of beliefs from one time and place and applying them to my own.

I may discover that the beliefs I’ve adopted have some major short-comings if I know a little about their history. Otherwise, I’m not objective enough to figure things out on my own.

The Bible Doesn’t Work in a Vacuum

You can’t distill the Bible into a test tube where you figure out precisely how to live. To use another metaphor, it makes for a poor set of blueprints.

I have often found it far more helpful to think of the Bible as a portrait painting. You can go to a gallery and appreciate how an artist interacted with his subjects at a particular time and place and offered his own representation of it. The nature of the paint or the ability of artists to capture light determined what the paintings look like in each period.

The Bible will not be tamed. It will disturb, disrupt, and shock us. My beliefs have changed so much over the years, and I honestly don’t know what I believe about certain things any more because I always find out something different about God each time I read the Bible.

In reality, I do very little standing when it comes to the Bible. I see myself running, just trying to catch up to the interpreters who came before me and with the various stories that sometimes create portraits of God and his followers that are hard to reconcile with one another.

When you sign on to make the Bible your sole authority, you’re signing up for a wild, disruptive ride where anything contrary to the scriptures needs to go. If you know where your beliefs came from in the first place, you’ll at least be ready for this and have a better idea of where the most dramatic bumps and turns will come.

If you don’t know where your beliefs come from, you’re at the mercy of a Bible that will push, pull, and punch. The Bible will give us plenty of comfort, but with its words of encouragement comes a disruptive message that can topple over every belief system—even the belief system that claims to revere the Bible more than any other.

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.

Giving up on any hope of making a profit had a way of sharpening my focus, training my heart to think beyond bank accounts, page views, and marketing platforms (though I will see a few benefits along these lines in the long run). Giving a book away is all about a passion for an idea, believing in my message to the point that I’m willing to share it as widely as possible at any cost.

I didn’t hold back with my latest E-book project. I created something that has value. Even a free book shouldn’t be a waste of someone’s time. I offered readers a chance to buy it for $.99 because I wanted to both provide a simple download option and a chance for them to support my work. However, the free download links on my site provided the same ideas and the same format.

Part of my motivation for this latest adventure in publishing had to do with helping to clean up a really big mess—a mess that I’ve contributed to over the years—divisions among Christians.

As I’ve shared my thoughts on unity and processed how we can make things better on this blog, a central idea emerged. It was not only worthy of an E-book, it was important enough to give it away.

I don’t plan on giving all of my books away this widely, but I know that I’ll do it again. It has been a refreshing reminder that storing up treasure in heaven and blessing others can sometimes fall aside, neglected while I try to build up financial security. Sometimes we have callings to fulfill and wrongs to set right.

Sometimes I need to try something new—something that doesn’t quite make sense but feels just so right that I can’t resist the call of adventure.

This post is part of Bonnie Gray’s Thursday Faith Jam. Visit Faith Barista today to read more stories about adventure.

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.

UPDATE: All of the promotions for January 2012 are now over, but you can still pick up Divided We Unite by subscribing to my e-newsletter. At some point I’ll change the e-newsletter giveaway to a different book.

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, but you haven’t picked up my book Coffeehouse Theology: Reflecting on God in Everyday Life, I think I know what your problem is. You’ve probably gone to Amazon and noticed that the best possible deal is a $2 – $3 used copy that probably has all of the awesome passages underlined.

SPOILER ALERTS!!!

Who wants to read a book with all of the underlining, stars, and exclamation points already inserted? And then you need to pay an extra $3 or $4 for lousy media mail shipping which ensures you’ll probably get the book sometime in 2013. If there’s still a scrap of the cover left on it, you’ll be lucky.

Sighing, you realize that it won’t be much cheaper to pick up the E-book version of Coffeehouse Theology for $7.99, and then you’ll be robbed of seeing the beautiful cover art. This is worse than a Catch 22. It’s like a Catch 44—twice as bad.

My Insanely Awesome January E-book Offer

But wait, there is hope. What if I told you that you could download every major book I’ve written for between $3.99 and $4.99??? Would you question my ability to do basic math? Though I wouldn’t doubt that, I’ve worked on these numbers for days now, and I keep coming up with $3.99 or $4.99.

The trick is that this super-awesome, mathematically impossible feat of book discounting is only good for the month of January. Here are the links you need to pick up all three of my books:

• Coffeehouse Theology is $2.99 at NavPress (offer is done)
• Divided We Unite: Practical Christian Unity is a free download (optional $.99)
• A Path to Publishing is $.99

Thanks for checking out my work. And believe me, this is a fun way to get my writing in front of lots of people, so please do share these offers with your friends who are curious about how theology works, wrestle with Christian unity, or dream about publishing a nonfiction book. You’re not robbing me by passing this offer along to as many people as possible.

And speaking frankly, even if you did rob me, I’m so bad at math I wouldn’t notice.

I doubt we would make it to the meal, which would be rather sad since we always have pierogies on Christmas Day.

I don’t have any intention of trying this out. Rather, I write this in order to follow up on last week’s post about Christian unity and the idea that we can remain united despite our divisions.

The more I think about families, the easier it is for me to believe that meaningful Christian unity can be possible today despite the fragmented nature of Christians. It’s true that most of us know the right answer on paper: we are united by the bond of Jesus. Believing that statement when someone holds a belief that seems to run counter to the Bible or acts against the spirit of love requires a bit more faith than we can muster some days.

When I think of the differences in my own family and our ability to gather every year for great parties that have no shortage of love, I’m hopeful about Christianity. Many of us are already experts at living at peace and unity with family despite major differences.

We know how to avoid sensitive topics.

We know how to focus on what joins us together.

We know how to show an interest in others who are quite different from us.

There have been days when I’ve despaired about Christianity and the ways we are hopelessly fragmented. However, this morning, I am hopeful.

Even now we are all looking forward to the birth of Jesus, celebrating his coming among us and the arrival of God’s salvation. We all struggle with materialism. We all have long to-do lists before we can celebrate the holidays.

When we sit down to pray, seeking God amidst busy days and tasting the joys of his presence, we are all connecting to the same Father who loves us. As we tap into the peace and love that comes from our one Lord, may he share with us his passionate love for his people.

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?

I remember the look on my coach’s face as I threw one ball after another—as in, the opposite of a strike. He mixed a “Why me?” sort of despair with a tinge of amusement—perhaps it had to do with the absurdity that his starting pitcher couldn’t throw a strike in a play off game.

The stakes weren’t exactly high in the grand scheme of things. I was pitching in an eighth grade baseball game, but for me, it was one of the most humiliating moments of my life. I remember hitting rock bottom as my coach made an audible snide remark about me as yet another batter trotted to first base.

We often see coaches walk out to the mound to advise struggling pitchers in the majors. As much as I hated my coach at that moment, I just wanted help. What was I doing wrong? I’d practiced over and over again to the point that I knew how to throw strikes. A pre-game panic attack had thrown me into a tailspin, and I didn’t know how to salvage my form.

Looking back, I can see that my problems started long before that game. Our coach didn’t really teach our team all that much. He could hit ground balls and fly balls in practice, but I had to teach myself how to throw a fastball, slider, and changeup. I even taught myself how to throw  a knuckle ball.

Previous to that playoff game, I just showed up and pitched. My coach literally taught me nothing. He didn’t invest anything in me, and when I fell to pieces, he just stepped back and watched.

My step-dad was the one person who actually invested anything in my young, short-lived baseball career in Jr. High. He taught me a few things about how to hit, and his lessons paid off. In one game he stood behind the batting cage and said, “Think of that pitch as a big grapefruit.”

It never occurred to me that baseballs could be compared to grapefruits. How does that help anyone? I’d think that a grapefruit would just explode on contact into a sticky but delicious snack. Humoring him, I told myself that the incoming pitch was, in fact, a large grapefruit.

In those seconds, I no longer saw a tiny, spinning baseball with red stitches. I saw an enormous yellow grapefruit that had been lobbed before me and was just begging to be clobbered. I swatted that ball with everything I had, sending it way beyond the centerfielder. I remember my step-dad yelling, “Yes!” as I took off for first base.

It felt good to have his support at that moment, something so different from that other time on the pitching mound when I couldn’t throw a strike. Someone wanted me to succeed. He invested in me, stood with me in my moment of challenge, and celebrated when I succeeded.

I write all of this not by way of publicly chronicling my stellar baseball career. I assure you, these are the highlights—save for the one game where I really got my knuckleball going. I wanted to talk about the feeling you get when someone is supporting you and working hard to help you succeed.

To say that God isn’t like a Jr. High baseball coach ventures toward the obvious, but I honestly think that I sometimes turn God into this smug, wait-and-see coach who is just watching us fall apart from the sidelines. God wants us to succeed because he expects that of us, but it’s tempting to think that he could take us or leave us depending on our performance.

God doesn’t want failures… or does he?

I had already made up my mind to write about this topic today, and then I read Ezekiel 18 this morning. Check it out. It’s a beautiful statement by God about wanting his people to succeed, forgiving them when they fail, and welcoming them back.

God is deeply invested in you and me because he is passionate for his people—even if we fail. His Spirit is here with us because he’s with us in the game. He’s empowering us, cheering us on, and dusting us off when we fall and sulk back to him.

We can go back to God after we fail because he’s right there with us, hoping that we’ll come to our senses and turn our “no’s” into “yes’s.” As long as you have today, your “no” does not have to be final. Your fail does not define you.

Stop looking at your failure. Look up to God because he’s leaving the sidelines where you expected to find him. He’s coming out to help you.