Rachel Held Evans's Blog, page 20

Ask Brian McLaren…

I’m really excited about the next installment in our “Ask…” interview series—Ask Brian McLaren.

Brian D. McLaren is an author, speaker, activist, and networker among innovative Christian leaders. He began his career as a college English teacher and then worked as a church planter and pastor for twenty-four years. His dozen-plus books include A New Kind of Christianity, A Generous Orthodoxy, Naked Spirituality, and Why Did Jesus, Moses, the Buddha, and Mohammed Cross the Road?

Many of you, like me, found Brian at a critical juncture in your faith journey when you wondered if you were all alone in the questions you were asking about Christianity. In this regard, Brian’s work simultaneously stimulates and comforts, challenges and encourages. It can also be quite controversial. Brian has been called a false teacher, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a heretic—even before there was Twitter! 

But perhaps most importantly, if you’ve ever met Brian, you know that he is kind. He has a pastoral presence about him that immediately sets you at ease. He is, truly, a man of peace. Brian and his wife, Grace, live in Florida and have four adult children and four grandchildren. He's an avid wildlife and outdoors enthusiast. 

Brian’s upcoming book, We Make the Road by Walking, is scheduled for release on June 10, 2014. I had the chance to read an early copy and it’s one of my favorites of Brian's. Organized around the traditional church year, each chapter reflects on a different story from Scripture and invites contemplation, discussion, and action. 

If you’ve ever had a question for Brian, now’s your chance. Leave one in the comment section, and at the end of the day, I’ll pick the 6-7 most popular questions and send them to Brian for response. Be sure to utilize the “like” option in DISQUS to “vote” for your favorites from others. Look for the full interview next week. 

Brian told me to tell you not to go too easy on him! So don’t be shy. 

(Check out the rest of our "Ask..." series here.) 

Ask away! 

From the Lectionary: An Open Letter to Jesus on this Whole Ascension Business

I'm blogging with the lectionary this year, and this week's reading comes from Acts 1: 6-14: 

Then they gathered around him and asked him, ‘Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?’  He said to them: ‘It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.’ 

After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight. They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. ‘Men of Galilee,’ they said, ‘why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.’ 

Then the apostles returned to Jerusalem from the hill called the Mount of Olives, a Sabbath day’s walk from the city. When they arrived, they went upstairs to the room where they were staying. Those present were Peter, John, James and Andrew; Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew; James son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James. They all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers.

Dear Jesus, 

We weren’t ready.  

Surely you could have seen that as you floated into the sky, your disciples standing beneath your feet with craned necks, slacked mouths, a million questions, and no clue what to do next. I bet they totally asked those angels which one of them would be greatest in the Kingdom, and Luke just left that part out because, oh my gosh, not again; how embarrassing. 

And while we’re on it, what’s with the floating thing? After all the eating and drinking and healing and laughing and crying, it just doesn’t seem like your style—floating. I like you better with your feet on the ground. 

I’ll be honest, Jesus, Ascension Day brings up some abandonment issues for me. I know you promised we wouldn’t be alone, that you would send a Helper and Advocate, full of power and truth and ready to guide, but let’s face it: the fire of the Spirit is the wild kind. One moment I sense that it’s blazing like the burning bush, the next it’s like it’s out with a poof. I still haven’t figured it out. I still haven’t been able to pin it down. 

I can’t help but think that if you’d stayed a little longer, we might have avoided the Crusades.  Or the Great Schism. Or that time we used the Bible to justify slavery and invoked “Manifest Destiny” to slaughter women and children.  We’ve made a mess of things, Jesus, often in your name. We could use a little micromanaging. 

And yet, as always, you insist on using people before they’re ready, before they’ve got it all figured out—like Abraham, Esther, Moses, Mary Magdalene, Peter, Paul, Martin, and Maya.  Your people, like all people, mess up. Your people, like all people, learn as they go. 

You’re sort of inefficient, Jesus—like a winding river etching out a canyon, like a mother lingering over a lullaby, like art, like grace. You do things on your own time. 

And so here we are,  charged with being your hands in the world. Your eyes. Your laughter. Your tears. Your healing. Your teaching.  Your feet on the ground.   

As another blogger put it: “The absence of Jesus makes room for the possibility of his presence through his people.” 

I don’t know, Jesus.  I guess I just can’t get over how miraculous and infuriating and profound and ridiculous it is that you trust us, that the God of the universe allows sinners to do His work. It’s quite an unconventional plan. There are days when I’m convinced it’s going to fail.  

But we won’t know until we try, right?

So I suppose that on Ascension Day, I best quit standing here staring at the bottoms of your feet, Jesus, and instead get to work—feeding, fellowshipping, healing, teaching, loving, hosting, sharing, breaking bread and pouring wine. 

One day at a time. 

Ready or not. 

Help me, okay?

Love,

Rachel 

***

Anyone else struggle with “abandonment issues” on Ascension Sunday? How does the ascension shape your theology and your everyday life? 

Also, if you’ve written a post around any of this week’s lectionary texts, do share it in the comment section. 

Why it’s so hard to talk about privilege (and how I’m checking my own)

(Note: Look for my reflection on the lectionary tomorrow. Ascension week is hard; I’m struggling with this one!)

It’s hard to talk about privilege because it’s human nature to focus on the ways in which we are disadvantaged, not the ways in which we are advantaged. 

Let’s face it. Most of us like to think of ourselves as the scrappy, beleaguered underdog for whom success is the result of hard work and a strong will to beat the odds.  But privilege is relative to context, and we forget that to our own peril (or, more likely, the peril of others).

This phenomenon is easy for me to spot in others: It can be frustrating to try and talk about privilege with conservative evangelicals, for example, because many see changes in public opinion regarding things like marriage equality or feminism as indicative of their waning influence, and so they count themselves among the disadvantaged at best and as oppressed minorities at worst. But while a Southern Baptist youth pastor may in fact be in the minority in his opinion on marriage and women’s roles in the broader culture, he is likely in the majority in his more immediate church culture where he has the most influence and where women and LGBT people may be disadvantaged. So he needs to weigh his own privilege with humility and care before speaking to his youth group about things like gender, race, finances or LGBT experiences. Where he may be disadvantaged in one context, he may be advantaged in another. And the very people he perceives to have more influence in the broader culture may in fact be harmfully disadvantaged in his own. 

It’s much more challenging to spot privilege in myself, but I’ve been thinking lately about what you might call my “social media privilege.” It used to be that I could engage in theological discussions, and even a bit of banter, online without bringing thousands of people to the conversation. Not anymore. And while this increased exposure is certainly a gift that I hope to use for good, it can also be used to bully.  So when someone with 2,000 followers on Twitter says something unkind or theologically-questionable to me, I can re-tweet it and sit back and watch that person incur the wrath of my 47,000 followers, who are obviously more likely to be favorable to my position. 

I am especially guilty of this when engaging with people I perceive to have more power than me—people with positions in Christian leadership, for example. As important as it is to challenge Christian leaders when what they say is harmful or untrue, I’m realizing that in the context of social media, I may need to be more careful because I have more power than I think. Where I may be forbidden from even speaking at a conservative evangelical pastor’s church, I may have a significantly louder P.A. system than he does online. That shouldn’t stop me from speaking up, of course. But it should give me pause before I start yelling over him. 

For so long, I felt powerless in the church—as a woman and as a questioner. When I spoke, I felt I had to shout to be heard. But now, (thanks in large part to you guys!), I’ve got something of a megaphone. It’s important to continue to speak, but sometimes I need to remind myself that I don’t have to shout anymore. 

**

Thoughts? Advice? I’d really love your feedback on this. 

And can you think of ways in which you are both advantaged and disadvantaged, depending on the context? 

Rachel’s Summer Reading Spectacular

Highlight of Summer 2013 was this moment at Glacier National Park

Did you ever participate in those summer reading competitions for kids at the local library? The ones where you racked up points for every book you read and won prizes in August for all your credit? 

Yeah? 

Well, I was the kid beating you at it. 

Never has an Enneagram 3 been more happy to be alive and winning things than when summer finally rolled around and it was Revenge of the Nerds for us book worms. Oh how I relished the scent of those book pages. Oh how I loved filling those giant plastic tubs full of new stories.  Oh how mad I got at my parents when they had the audacity to take us on a trip to Yellowstone National Park, which interrupted my total domination over the competition. 

I perhaps took things a bit too seriously. 

While we don’t (usually) get prizes anymore, the onset of summer still triggers the compulsion to READ, READ, READ. So below I’ve listed some of my favorites if you’re looking for suggestions this summer. I tried to mix in lighter reads with heavier ones. Enjoy! 

 

Memoir 

Lit: A Memoir (P.S.) by Mary Karr 

Jesus, My Father, The CIA, and Me by Ian Cron (see my review) 

Take This Bread: A Radical Conversion  by Sara Miles 

Pastrix: The Cranky, Beautiful Faith of a Sinner & Saint by Nadia Bolz-Weber (see my review) 

Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Northwest Trail by Cheryl Strayed 

 

Christian Classics 

For the Life of the World: Sacraments and Orthodoxy by Alexander Schmemann

Life Together by Dietrich Bonhoeffer 

An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith by Barbara Brown Taylor 

The Prophetic Imagination by Walter Brueggemann 

Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard 

History

The Story of Christianity, Volumes 1 & 2 by Justo Gonzalez (see my reviews here and here) 

Birmingham Revolution: Martin Luther King Jr.'s Epic Challenge to the Church by Edward Gilbreath

The Civil War as a Theological Crisis by Mark Noll (see my review here) 

A People's History of Christianity: The Other Side of the Story by Diana Butler Bass

Summer for the Gods: The Scopes Trial and America’s Continuing Debate Over Science and Religion by Edward J. Larson           

Fiction 

Flight Behavior by Barbara Kingsolver 

The Red Tent by Anita Diamant 

And The Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving 

Humor 

The Honest Toddler: A Child’s Guide to Parenting by The Honest Toddler 

Let’s Pretend This Never Happened by Jenny Lawson 

Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosh 

Bossypants by Tina Fey 

xkcd: volume 0 by Randall Munroe

Contemporary Issues 

The Next Evangelicalism: Freeing the Church from Western Cultural Captivity by Soong-Chan Rah

God and the Gay Christian: The Biblical Case in Support of Same-Sex Relationships by Matthew Vines 

Torn: Rescuing the Gospel from the Gays vs. Christians Debate by Justin Lee (see my review)

Why did Jesus, Moses the Buddha and Mohammed Cross the Road?: Christian Identity in a Multi-Faith World by Brian McLaren

Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead by Sheryl Sanberg 

Science, Faith, & Genesis 

The Lost World of Genesis One: Ancient Cosmology & The Origins Debate by John Walton (see my review) 

The Evolution of Adam: What the Bible Does and Doesn't Say About Human Origins by Peter Enns (see my review) 

Death Before the Fall: Biblical Literalism and the Problem of Animal Suffering by Ronald E. Osborn 

The Language of God: A Scientist Presents Evidence for Belief by Francis Collins

Coming to Peace with Science: Bridging the Worlds Between Faith and Biology by Darrell R. Falk 

Gender Equality 

Beyond Sex Roles: What the Bible Says about a Woman's Place in Church and Family by Gilbert Bilezikian

Jesus Feminist: An Invitation to Revisit the Bible's View of Women by Sarah Bessey (see my review)

Half the Church: Recapturing God's Global Vision for Women by Carolyn Custis James 

Discovering Biblical Equality: Complementarity Without Hierarchy, edited by Gordon D. Fee

Are Women Human? By Dorothy Sayers 

More Than Serving Tea: Asian American Women on Expectations, Relationships, Leadership and Faith by Asifa Dean, Christie Heller de Leon, Kathy Khang, Nikki A. Toyama, Tracey Gee, & Jeanette Yep (see my review/interview) 

Church 

Evangelicals on the Canterbury Trail: Why Evangelicals Are Attracted to the Liturgical Church by Robert E. Webber and Lester Ruth

Disunity in Christ: Uncovering the Hidden Forces that Keep Us Apart by Christena Cleveland (see my review) 

Down We Go: Living Into the Wild Ways of Jesus by Kathy Escobar 

The Sacred Meal by Norah Gallagher 

Prototype: What Happens When You Discover You're More Like Jesus Than You Think?  by Jonathan Martin (see my review) 

Writing/ Creativity 

Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamott 

Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art by Madeleine L’Engle 

The Crowd, The Critic, and the Muse by Michael Gungor 

The Writing Life by Annie Dillard 

How to Tell a Story and Other Essays by Mark Twain

Bible & Theology 
 

Inspiration & Incarnation: Evangelicals and the Problem of the Old Testament by Peter Enns

The King Jesus Gospel: The Original Good News Revisited by Scot McKnight (see my review)

Bible, Gender, and Sexuality by James Brownson 

Walking in the Dust of Rabbi Jesus: How the Jewish Words of Jesus Can Change Your Life by Lois Tverberg (see my review) 

The Benefit of the Doubt: Breaking the Idol of Certainty by Greg Boyd (see my review/interview) 

 

Poetry & Prayers 

This Day: Collected & New Sabbath Poems by Wendell Berry 

Selected Poems: Anne Sexton 

In the Sanctuary of Women by Jan Richardson 

A Prayer Journal by Flannery O'Connor

A Thousand Mornings by Mary Oliver 

Favorite Classics

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee 

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Innocents Abroad by Mark Twain 

Tess of the d'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy 

In Memoriam  by Tennyson 

The Complete Stories and Wise Blood by Flannery O'Connor

 

From Favorite Bloggers... 

The Slavery of Death by Richard Beck

Girl at The End of the World: My Escape from Fundamentalism in Search of Faith with a Future by Elizabeth Esther 

Found: A Story of Questions, Grace, and Everyday Prayer by Micha Boyett

When We Were on Fire: A Memoir of Consuming Faith, Tangled Love, and Starting Over by Addie Zierman 

Something Other Than God by Jennifer Fulwiler 

 

From Yours Truly... 

Faith Unraveled: How a Girl Who Knew All the Answers Learned to Ask the Questions by Rachel Held Evans

A Year of Biblical Womanhood by Rachel Held Evans 
 

***

So, what's on your summer reading list? What do you recommend? 

#YesAllWomen: I Will Not Be Silent Anymore by Teresa K. Pecinovsky

This weekend, the hashtag #YesAllWomen was used more than 1 million times as women across the world shared their experiences with misogyny, rape, harassment, and fear of sexual assault as an act of solidarity with the women who were the target of last week’s mass shooting. The point was to show that while not all men are violent or hostile, nearly all women have been touched, in some way, by the pervasive problem of abuse against women in our culture. 

#yesallwomen because in 9th grade gym class the girls learned self defense while the boys played basketball

— ariel lebeau (@arielhatesyou) May 25, 2014

Because the messages I get from women whose abuse was justified as "biblical submission" stopped surprising me 2 years ago. #YesAllWomen

— Rachel Held Evans (@rachelheldevans) May 25, 2014

"I have a boyfriend" is the easiest way to get a man to leave you alone. Because he respects another man more than you. #yesallwomen

— Rylah (@JBRylah) May 25, 2014

The movement spurred our guest poster today— Teresa K. Pecinovsky —to  share her experience with a broader audience in hopes that it might help others who experiencing abuse at the hands of a pastor.  Teresa has an MEd from the University of Houston and is a second year MDiv student at Vanderbilt Divinity School. She is married to her best friend, John Siemssen. Teresa is interested in pastoral theology, religion and the arts, and finding the best latte in town.  

***

When you grow up in a small denomination, the whole church feels like your extended family.  This was especially true for me after attending a denominational college and working overseas with missionaries from my church tradition.  Mentors, professors, ministers, fellow missionaries—they were all part of a web of family ties that eventually connected with each other.  So it was no surprise to me that one of my mentors at college, a well-respected professor and minister, responded to one of my missions e-mails.  He was encouraging and warm and I appreciated hearing from him, being so far away from home and having just graduated from college.  I was 23 years old, ready for the adventure of adulthood and ministry.  

What I didn’t expect was how his relationship with me changed over the next few months.  He started e-mailing me from his personal e-mail address early on.  I didn’t have a computer at the time so I’d send and receive messages with him through my cell phone.  What was once a mentorship quickly turned into a friendship, discussing our lives, interests, music, and so forth.  I was lonely, and because he was a leader in our church I trusted him fully.  When he started to confide in me that his marriage was in bad shape I convinced myself that it was appropriate for him to share because I was now an adult.  As the messages turned into dozens a day and became more intense I still held on to the belief that it was alright, because he was a minister.  He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, right? 

I still remember one of the last e-mails he sent me.  It was very sexually explicit, it involved me, and reading it made me want to throw up.  I texted him back and told him to get help for him, his marriage, and to not contact me anymore.  

After that I sat with shame for a long time.  Since I was an adult, I had to have done something to make him act so inappropriately wrong.  Maybe I was responsible for his failed marriage too.  I got used to waking up at 3 in the morning when he would send his first e-mail.  When the messages stopped I still woke up at 3 am and sobbed until the sun came up or I could fall asleep.   

I told several other mentors some of what happened, but nothing changed.  I eventually went to an administrator of the school, and, while that person did provide a spiritual director and therapist for both me and the professor, he was seeking self and institutional preservation, at the cost of my own well-being.  At one point he demanded a list of the names of people who I had told about what happened, so he could make sure they wouldn’t tell anyone else.  

The professor moved to have his PhD paid for by the university.  Even though he was over a thousand miles away, the administrator "strongly advised me" to not apply for seminary there when I returned from overseas.    

What I have described is my story, but it’s the story of so many other women (and men) who have been manipulated and abused by those we trusted most—ministers of God.  It took me a long time to realize that sexual abuse was truly the correct term for what happened.

According to the FaithTrust Institute, “Sexual contact or sexualized behavior within the ministerial relationship is a violation of professional ethics. There is a difference in power between a person in a ministerial role and a member of his or her congregation or a counselee. Because of this difference in power, you cannot give meaningful consent to the sexual relationship.”

 I was abused by a minister and professor, and I will not be silent anymore.  

I decided to share my story here because as I told friends and family members I heard more and more stories of clergy abuse and how churches and schools protected abusers and silenced victims.  The more research I did, the more I realized that clergy abuse is a rampant plague within our churches.  And too often, victims do not have the vocabulary to accurately describe what happened to them.  When a minister has a sexual relationship with a member of the church, it’s not an affair—it’s abuse.  When a professor takes advantage of a student and sends sexually suggestive messages, it’s not a gray area in academia—it’s abuse.  If you are reading this and have been abused, you are not alone.  You are not at fault.  You are loved by God.      

Through years of hard, hard work, spiritual mentors, friends, family, therapists, and my wonderful husband, I have found redemption in the darkest season of my life, and freedom in my call to ministry.  Following that call meant finding a new church family, and navigating that new relationship is difficult but worth it.  I have discovered forgiveness for those who perpetuated so much soul-crushing damage.  I have chosen to pursue healing and forgiveness—it is always the way forward.  

***

Thanks to Teresa for being brave and sharing her story.  For excellent resources on education, prevention, and consultation about clergy abuse and sexual and domestic violence, see http://www.faithtrustinstitute.org 

You can also learn more from our series, "Into the Light:  A Series on Abuse & The Church"

Sunday Superlatives 5/25/2014

Note: Sorry I haven’t been taking nominations recently. You always have so many good ones, it takes forever to read through them! I’ll get back to that once I finish writing this book and have a bit more reading time. 

Online…

Best Magazine Cover (maybe ever):
Billy Corgan poses for Paws Chicago  
 

Best Title (followed by some great insights) 
Caryn Rivadeneira with “TULIP-Fueled Ecstasies and other Reformed Defenses of Mysticism” 

“So when Challies claims we cannot experience or know God outside of Scripture and expresses hostility toward not only St. Teresa but all mystics and mysticism, and when he does this in the name of Reformed theology, I gotta pipe up. I have to because I am Reformed–as dyed in the wool as I am washed in the Blood–and I am a mystic. Or, at least, mystically inclined.” 

Best Perspective: 
Lesley Miller with “The Last Day I Walked Away”

“When I think back to that muggy May day in China, and a mama trying so desperately to provide for her child, I no longer experience waves of regret. Instead, I remember that day as the last time I kept walking.”

Best Conversation-Starter
Our friend Danielle Mayfield with the Christianity Today COVER STORY, “Why I gave up alcohol” 

“With every picture, tweet, and event that centers on alcohol, I wonder: Isn't anyone friends with alcoholics?”

Best Analysis:
Scott Lencke with “Fear-Driven Biblical Interpretation” 

“This approach – the italicized question/statement above – is a fallacious argument properly known as the slippery slope. If you believe A, then you’ll believe B. Or, more practically in this regard, if you believe A, then you’ll believe H (something way down the line that is essential to the Christian faith, like Christ’s resurrection). The problem is that slippery slopes can’t be proven. They can be undergirded anecdotally, encompassing stories of folk who have denied the literal resurrection of Jesus (moving from point A to, say, point H). But then you’ve got plenty of theologians, pastors and Christians-in-general that are willing to consider a non-literal, historical journalistic reporting for the early chapters of Genesis or Jonah or the exodus or Job and still truly believe that Jesus, the Son of God, was raised from the dead by the power of God.” 

Best Interview: 
By Their Strange Fruit interviews IVP’s Al Hsu on Christian Publishing and People of Color 

“…That necessarily drives publishers toward who’s got platform, which authors bring a constituency, whether it’s a megachurch or a denominational, or an organizational buy-in of some sort or another. And that can be a challenge for ethnic minority authors that may not have those networks or resources to bring to the table.”

Wisest: 
Kathy Khang at Her.Meneutics with “We Are Not Generic” 

“The Nepali woman grieving the loss of someone close to her is a universal story of loss, but her image is not generic. She is created in God's image (Gen. 1:27), and she is known uniquely. The girl staring right at the camera with a single tear flowing out of her left eye was meant to communicate hope to an audience accustomed mostly to stories of loss and hopelessness in Africa, but her image is not generic. It cannot stand in proxy of just any other girl, especially those who were kidnapped and are missing. The girl and the more than 200 Nigerian schoolgirls are also created in God's image, and God knows them not as a generic African girl but by name.”

Sweetest:
A stranger picks up the tab….

Bravest:
Nate Pyle with “Into the Wilderness”

“If I am being honest, nothing has shaken my faith – not in Jesus, the cross, or the resurrection, but in my chosen theological system – like this experience. I am still reeling from it. Still trying to figure out how God’s goodness and sovereignty works out in situations where we are so clearly pressed under the weight of a world not as it should be. I spoke my peace in the wilderness, and then stood listening to the silence. No, in that moment it didn’t all begin to make sense. No, I do not know why God did not guide that child into the womb. God did not speak in a way that made me understand the purpose behind our experience. There is no bow tied on the end of this story to make it pretty.”

Most Eye-Opening 
(This is a long but worthwhile read. If you can get your hands on a hard copy, it will be even better)
Ta-Nehisi Coates with “The Case for Reparations”

“Ross had tried to get a legitimate mortgage in another neighborhood, but was told by a loan officer that there was no financing available. The truth was that there was no financing for people like Clyde Ross. From the 1930s through the 1960s, black people across the country were largely cut out of the legitimate home-mortgage market through means both legal and extralegal. Chicago whites employed every measure, from ‘restrictive covenants’ to bombings, to keep their neighborhoods segregated.”

See also: 
Ta-Nehisi Coates with “The Case for Reparations: An Intellectual Autopsy” and NPR with “How to Tell if Someone’s Actually Read the Ta-Nehisi Coates Essay” 
 

Most Beautiful:
Glennon Melton with “Dolphins Are Church”

“After the dolphins swam out of our sight- Tish squinted up at me and said, ‘Mom,  God is FLIRTING with us today!’ Oh, yes. YES. Please hold onto that truth, baby. Please, please continue to feel yourself so madly and deeply loved by the God of the Universe that you experience everything beautiful and wonderful as a personal gift from The One determined to win you.” 

Most Heartbreaking (and yet also relatable)  
Samantha Eyler with “Why I Had to Lose My Religion Before I Could Support Gender Equality” 

“So moderate people of faith, those of you who can endure the cognitive dissonance of espousing progressive politics while gleaning support in religious traditions that are thousands of years old -- I ask you to please speak up. There are many of us who need to hear your voices much more loudly.” 

Another de-conversion story (language warning) hit on similar themes: Jessica Misener with “Why I Miss Being a Born-Again Christian” 
 

Most Practical: 
Boz Tchividjian with “7 ways to welcome abuse survivors in our churches”

“We serve survivors best when we are their biggest advocates. Those who have been abused should find their greatest and most vocal supporters inside the church. Shaming, silencing, and judging have no home in a community that loves and advocates on behalf of abuse victims. Unfortunately, there are still many within the walls of the church that don’t see it that way. That is where we step in and speak up. We speak up for these amazing survivors, constantly encouraging them with our words and actions to hold their heads up high and walk away from shame and silence. We speak up because it is these unsung heroes who so often teach us, inspire us, and reflect Jesus. We speak up because Jesus speaks up for all of us. We speak up because it is our privilege.” 
 

Most Profound: 
Michael Wiltshire with “Christus Paradox: The Idolatry of Language & the Balance of Metaphors”

“According to the ancient Israelites, God is not limited to any metaphor, but incorporates each of them. One might say God is neither this nor that metaphor, but is episodically each metaphor while transcending them all. Therefore, while it is certainly not idolatrous to say that God is King, to say that he is King only (or King primarily) gets one into trouble. Walter Brueggemann brilliantly compacts the complexity of this idea into a dense but enlightening few sentences in his book Old Testament Theology: ‘The rich field of metaphors utilized [in the Old Testament] must be taken altogether without being homogenized. The consequence is a self-correcting and deconstructive dynamism that precludes the fixity of a stable image or the finality of any formulation.’”
 

Most Likely to Say Everything You’re Thinking: 
Peter Enns with “Tullian Tchividjian, The Gospel Coalition, and a (rather obvious) theology problem” 

“’Theology is not to blame here.’ Yes it is Tullian. Yes it most definitely is. On two related levels. First, the resurgence of Reformed theology in American evangelicalism and fundamentalism–commonly referred to as the Neo-Reformed movement–is a belligerent movement. This is why it exists–to correct others, not to turn the spotlight inward. There are exceptions within, of course, and I am by no means suggesting everyone who sees him or herself as part of this movement exhibits this tendency. But the “system” is set up to fight. It’s what they do. So don’t be shocked, Tullian, if it happens to you. Yesterday’s heroes can quickly become tomorrow’s vanquished foes. When “contending for the gospel” is your center of gravity, there’s always a foe. There has to be.”

Most Thought-Provoking (as always): 
Richard Beck with “Wearing a Crucifix” and “Search Term Friday: The Prayer of Jabez Made Me Cry” 

“I believe God is found among the victims of the world. God is hanging on crosses all over the world.  And so I wear a crucifix to remind me, to help me see.” 
 

Most Fascinating:
Susan Pigott with “El-Shaddai and the Gender of God”

“May we let the power of God’s many names and the multiple metaphors for God expand our understanding of God beyond our comfort. Let us challenge ourselves to speak of God in new ways, in non-limiting ways, in ways that include rather than exclude.”

Most Informative: 
Maria Konnikova at the New Yorker with “I Don’t Want to be Right”

“Normally, self-affirmation is reserved for instances in which identity is threatened in direct ways: race, gender, age, weight, and the like. Here, Nyhan decided to apply it in an unrelated context: Could recalling a time when you felt good about yourself make you more broad-minded about highly politicized issues, like the Iraq surge or global warming? As it turns out, it would. On all issues, attitudes became more accurate with self-affirmation, and remained just as inaccurate without. That effect held even when no additional information was presented—that is, when people were simply asked the same questions twice, before and after the self-affirmation.” 

On my nightstand…

Fail: Finding Hope and Grace in the Midst of Ministry Failure by J.R. Briggs
 

This is a really important, honest, and eye-opening book, set to release in July. A must-read for anyone in ministry, but also an important perspective for laypeople to encounter. Will be writing more about this in the future. 

On the Blog…

Most Popular Post:
“What is Heresy? An Interview with Justin Holcomb”

Most Popular Comment: 
In response to “Facebook sabotage?” 

“For some guys, getting "shut down by the MAN / WOMAN / GUBMINT is kind of a wet dream. It's like the preachers who insist that the police are going to "come for them any day now for preaching the truth about homosexuals." They would actually die happy they got arrested behind the pulpit on a Sunday morning and dragged out the door like martyrs. It would confirm their deeply held belief that they are hardcore heroes of their own epic story. That being said, I hope it was coding and not a reader who flagged it." 

 

Don’t forget…

Find me on Facebook and Twitter. And check out my books: Faith Unraveled and A Year of Biblical Womanhood. 

 

So, what caught your eye online this week? What’s happening on your blog? 

Facebook sabotage?

So I checked Twitter before going to bed last night (never a good idea!) and was surprised to see this tweet from Owen Strachan of the Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood: “It's one thing to disagree with the other side. It's another to have a post reported as ‘unsafe’ & silenced by Facebook! @rachelheldevans” 

It's one thing to disagree with the other side. It's another to have a post reported as "unsafe" & silenced by Facebook! @rachelheldevans

— Owen Strachan (@ostrachan) May 23, 2014

He went on to say:  “My blog on RHE & ‘God as woman,’ barred by Facebook, is reposted. Note the chronology: they come for me first, they'll come for you next...” 

My blog on RHE & "God as woman," barred by Facebook, is reposted. Note the chronology: they come for me first, they'll come for you next...

— Owen Strachan (@ostrachan) May 24, 2014

And then: “My post on @rachelheldevans's views was reported to Fbook & deemed "unsafe." Note this next time someone says complementarians are unfair!”

My post on @rachelheldevans's views was reported to Fbook & deemed "unsafe." Note this next time someone says complementarians are unfair!

— Owen Strachan (@ostrachan) May 23, 2014

 

I’m not sure what happened with Owen’s post and Facebook—it appears to be an issue with some new ad coding on his Web site—but I can say without equivocation that I had nothing to do with getting it censored or deemed “unsafe.” I’m all about easy access to content, (even when it’s content I don’t like!) so just because Owen and I disagree on gender issues doesn’t mean I’d try to get him blocked or banned or censored. 

While it appears to be a technical glitch, in the unlikely event any readers were somehow involved, please know that censorship is really not my style. I like to engage ideas—even dissenting ideas—and I believe mine are strong enough to stand on their own without silencing opposition.*

Regardless, I think it would be more prudent to withhold judgment/paranoia/ accusations until we know for sure what went wrong. 

Now, if you’ll excuse me, Zuckerberg and I need to get back to work on our plan to SHUT DOWN PINTEREST! 

BUWAHAHAHAHAHAHA.....

 

*Update: All signs point to new ad code on Patheos that got automatically flagged by Facebook. Apparently, several other bloggers had the same problem this week, though it looks like the problem's been solved. Owen continues to insist that his "theology was deemed unsafe" by Facebook. 

From the Lectionary: “I will not leave you as orphans…”

Sufjan Stevens, "For the Widows in Paradise, for the Fatherless in Ypsilanti"

I'm blogging with the lectionary this year, and this week's Gospel reading comes from John 14:15-21: 

“If you love me, keep my commands.  And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever—the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you. I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. Before long, the world will not see me anymore, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live. On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you. Whoever has my commands and keeps them is the one who loves me. The one who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love them and show myself to them.” 

After all the controversy of last week, it’s tempting to turn this post into a discussion on gendered language around the Holy Spirit (feminine in Hebrew and Aramaic, typically neuter in Greek, masculine in this particular text), but that’s just not how this passage is “singing” to me today, so instead I’d like to focus on Jesus’ stirring and tender words in verse 18: “I will not leave you as orphans.” 

This strikes me as a fitting and profound way for Jesus to introduce the Holy Spirit as Paraclete—Comforter, Intercessor, Advocate—because it stands in the context of vast biblical testimony regarding the importance of defending orphans and widows. 

In Jesus’ culture, (and indeed in many cultures today), the fatherless were especially vulnerable to poverty, exploitation, and injustice, often left without an advocate in the courts or a protector to guard them against hunger, slavery and trafficking. Throughout Scripture, God shows special concern for orphans (Deut 10:18; Ps 10:14—18; 68:5; Prov 23:10-11), and instructs His people to protect them (Deut 14:28, 29; 16:11, 14; 24:17-22; 26:12-15). The brother of Jesus defined true religion as caring for orphans and widows in their distress (James 1:27), and from the perspective of the prophets, few things stir God’s righteous anger more than neglect of vulnerable children, as Isaiah’s call to repentance reflects: 

Learn to do right; seek justice. 
Defend the oppressed. 
Take up the cause of the fatherless; 
Plead the case of the widow (Isaiah 1:17). 

So when Jesus tells his disciples, “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you,” and then promises them the Paraclete—the Holy Advocate and Comforter— he is both acknowledging their impending vulnerability and reminding them that they are not alone. 
 
Indeed, just as Jesus predicted, the world didn’t recognize the Spirit of Truth, and instead of protecting the disciples, persecuted them. One wonders if in those dark days spent in hiding, the disciples held each other close and whispered to one another, “Remember, we are not orphans. We are not alone.” 

The world does not always advocate for the vulnerable among us, and too often, the Church fails in this regard too.  This week I think especially of abuse survivors who feel they have been orphaned by the Church, their oppression ignored, covered-up, and disbelieved, their cries for justice silenced.  

Words alone just don’t have the power to alleviate so many layers of pain, but I hope in reflecting on this passage, victims of every kind of abuse will be reminded:  

You are not alone. You are not orphans. You have not been forgotten.  

That stubborn voice inside of you that comforts you, that champions you, that is angry on your behalf, that calls you beloved, that tells you not to give up but to name all that ugly shame a lie—that is your Advocate, your Paraclete.  Listen to Him. Believe Him. Obey Him. 

You have not been orphaned—not by the Spirit, and not by those in whom the Spirit has made a home. 

May all of us who feel vulnerable, for one reason or another, be reminded this week that we have an Advocate and Comforter, and that sometimes the hardest, most liberating thing to do is to listen, to obey, and to actually believe He’s in our corner. 

*** 

If you too are blogging with the lectionary, or have written about this passage in the past, please leave a link to your post in the comment section

Ask a pastor’s wife and a pastor’s husband…(response & invitation)

You submitted hundreds of fantastic questions for the latest installment of our “Ask…” series— Ask a Pastor’s Wife and a Pastor’s Husband. It was also really cool to hear from those of you who are married to pastors who had insights and stories to share in the comment section. So I’d like to extend a special invitation to pastor spouses/partners to join Jim and Jodie by responding to one more of these questions yourselves, from your experience. 

Our guests: Jodie Howerton is a freelance writer and communications consultant who has been married to her pastor husband, Mike, for 18 years. She has 3 children and is the founder of the Redefine Positive Project, an initiative that is working to reform HIV/AIDS education in public schools across the nation. Jim Kast-Keat is married to Jes, the Associate Minister at West End Collegiate Church in New York City. Along with being a pastor's husband, Jim is also a pastor, serving as the Associate Minister for Education at Middle Collegiate Church in the East Village. He is the creator and curator of ThirtySecondsOrLess.net.

 

From Katie: Do you feel any kind of pressure to always be putting on the "best face" for any situation? I know that the preacher's wife in my church growing up was very constrained; she didn't feel free to express any negative opinions at all, even just to talk about her kids being a handful, because the pastor's family is supposed to be the "example". I assume the preacher felt similarly, though I never talked to him about it. I wondered if you two feel that pressure to always be the best marriage in your church, the happiest, the glowiest, the everything-is-wonderful-even-when-it's-not “example.” If you do, how do you deal with the added stress? If not, was it something you did deal with and have sort of gone through and come out the other side?

Jodie: 

Katie, to a certain extent, I think that all families in ministry do feel pressured to pretend sometimes. When I attend church or drop my children off in their Sunday school classes, I definitely have a sense that we are being watched. Actually, we are frequently watched at grocery stores, restaurants, airports – even on vacation. It’s not that people are being rude; it’s just that there is a natural fascination with leaders and their families. I’m not sure that pastors and their families will ever be completely out of the spotlight. With leadership, comes exposure, for better and for worse. 

However, what I’ve learned over the years is that you cannot allow other people’s expectations to dictate how you live, love, and serve. A wide variety of spoken and unspoken expectations will always be there for pastors and their families. The problem with these expectations is that they are absolutely impossible to meet. Expectations can often be suffocating, all consuming, and guilt producing. If we try to meet them all, we will burn out. When families in ministry pretend to have perfect lives, they become lonely, isolated, and flat out miserable. 

The truth is that my kids are a handful sometimes, that my husband and I fight sometimes, and that everything is not always wonderful. Our family experiences the same struggles that “normal” families do. We have been honest about that – from the pulpit and in private conversations with those in our church. In many ways, we have refused to step up onto the proverbial pedestal that those in ministry are often placed on. I’m not saying I tell everyone I meet at church about the private struggles we are facing, but I do feel free to let people know that I do not have all the answers and that the “example” we are trying to set is one of authenticity. 

There is absolutely no way I can live up to the expectations imposed on me by other people. Instead of asking, “is the congregation happy with my performance as a pastor’s wife?”, I ask myself, “Am I living how God is calling me to live? What are my own passions in ministry? Do I need a break?”

Dealing with impossible expectations is stressful, even when I’m asking myself the right questions and setting firm boundaries. So, self-care is really important in my life. It sounds cliché, but regular exercise, an occasional therapy appointment, and date nights with my husband help keep my stress level and anxiety manageable. When those things are absent, I’m not very fun to be around. :-) 

Jim: 

Short answer: Yes. And it sucks.

Long(er) answer: Yes. And it really sucks.

Actual answer: Much of this "best face syndrome" is a result of a projected identity. When I find myself putting on this "best face" as a pastor's husband I am often living in to the identity that is being projected on me. A pastor can't have any doubts, and therefore their partner must be perfect too, not to mention their conflict and blemish free relationship. This is why going to church as a pastor's husband is never just "going to church." People will inevitably read into the dark circles under my eyes, my tone of voice, and my posture, assuming it all says something about what's happening behind the scenes. They don't want to see me (let alone my partner) as human; we must be all things super human, a glimpse and hope for the Übermensch. 

So yes, this pressure exists. It can't not exist. But what do we do about it? Jes is excellent about articulating what it means to be human. It does not mean we are perfect and pristine but messy and real. We both try and be authentic people when we are in her congregation, recognizing the necessary role/function boundaries that must exist (sermons should be authentic but they aren't the pastor's therapy session). I can't control how someone perceives me but I can control my posture. I can choose an authentic posture rather than feeling like I must become the perceived and projected identity and "best face" imposed upon me. And we give ourselves space to take off this projected "best face" when we are with close friends or alone together. We recognize that the "best face" imposed on us will never be who we are, but simply who others want us to be.

 From Rachel: Jodie, I spoke with a youth pastor once who said there were girls in his youth group who, when asked what they wanted to do for a career, said they wanted to be pastors wives when they grew up. He was a bit surprised by this and, as he prodded, found what they really wanted was to be in ministry, but because they had seen so few women in those roles, they thought they had to essentially “marry in” to pastoral ministry.

This struck me on a lot of levels—one of which was the degree to which the Pastor’s Wife is often seen as an official ministry position in a church…even when the pastor’s wife isn’t usually on the church payroll and often has a job and responsibilities of her own. So my question is: How do you manage that expectation? How do you partner with your husband (as any couple should) without assuming the role of a full-time minister when that’s not your calling? And any thoughts on what you would say to a young woman who aspires to the role of pastor's wife someday?

Jodie: 

Rachel, the story you tell of your friend is one that I have also heard. In fact, when I was in junior high, I remember being at a Christian youth conference where the speaker did an altar call of sorts for “young men called to be pastors” and “young women called to be pastors’ wives.” Many young women stepped boldly onto the stage and I’ve often thought that these women were actually being stirred by the call to ministry, not matrimony. The church has historically placed a very low ceiling on female leadership, but God has not. I am thrilled to be in a church that encourages women to be leaders and simultaneously validates their call with the title, “pastor.” 

I have often found it interesting and sad that the church bestows leadership and authority on women simply because they are married to the guy in charge. I happen to be married to the guy in charge at our church, am a strong leader, and passionately pursue my relationship with Christ, but my degrees are in English and Spanish Literature. I’m not a pastor. By contrast, one of the female pastors at our church has her doctorate in Biblical Studies. She’s more than qualified for the job and I am incredibly fortunate to worship under her leadership. Pastoral ministry is the only profession that automatically qualifies spouses for the profession; if I were married to a surgeon, it would not be automatically assumed that I could perform an appendectomy. 

I’m not saying that pastors’ wives can’t be effective, authoritative, compassionate, leaders. Quite the opposite. In many churches the pastor and his/her spouse are the only leaders and called by God to be exactly where they are. I’m just arguing that the system of assigning leadership and authority to pastors’ spouses is not always based on their gifting. 

To answer your first question, I do work and have many other responsibilities outside the church. There is often pressure to be more involved in church life, but I really do my best to serve where God calls me to instead of out of obligation. Over the years, I have learned to set pretty firm boundaries. When we serve out of obligation, we become jaded, bitter, and lonely. And, I really strive to put my family first. I’ve learned that just because people want me to serve in certain ways doesn’t mean that’s where God is calling me to serve. Most of the “ministry” I do is actually in the community at large outside of the church building. 

Now, to your second question. My husband and I are partners in everything. We process and discuss just about every issue that pops up in both our jobs. What he needs more than my physical presence at every church event is my emotional support and belief in him. And, that’s what I need from him. 

Finally, to young women who aspire to be pastors’ wives, I want to applaud and honor your desire to serve God. “Marrying in” to ministry is one way to serve, but by no means the only way. I would challenge you to fully explore and evaluate what God’s call is on your life and pursue with your whole heart. 

From Corey: Jim, I too am a pastor's husband. I was wondering how you would handle congregants or other folks who harass, start fights or otherwise try to start drama with your wife? My instinct when people try to start stuff is to jump to her defense, but I always have to weigh that against the fact that some might see it as "Oh, the little girl can't fight her own fights." I mean, she's my wife, I love her, and I never want anyone to mess with her, but I also can't do anything that might make it harder for her to do her job, even if my instinct is to stick up for her while fully acknowledging she can fend for herself. My personality is one that lends itself toward a fierce protective instinct toward those about whom I care the most (which obviously includes my wife). Just curious to get another pastor's husband perspective.

Jim: 

I'll answer this question three ways: triangles, shadow boxing, and a shoulder.

By triangles I am referring to the far-too-common practice of triangulation in relationships. And when drama queens and kings emerge, I am intentional about standing with my wife but never creating a triangulated relational dynamic. If someone from the congregation takes issue with something Jes said or did, I direct them to Jes.  And if someone from the congregation is overflowing with love and praise from something Jes said or did, I direct them to Jes. While everything in me often wants to raise a shield or unleash an arrow that will strike down whatever opposition comes her way, I am Jes' squire more than I am her knight. I don't fight her battles for her but support her as she fights them herself. (This is especially important with the implicit gender roles and expectations that can too easily be projected on us.)

And to continue an unintentionally violent metaphor: shadowboxing. By this I mean that sometimes Jes needs a safe place to throw some practice punches and try out her footwork. I'm not a punching bag - she doesn't come at me swinging - but I am a sounding board, giving her the necessary space to practice her response and anticipate the next round that will inevitably emerge.

And in the midst of this anti-triangulation and shadow boxing, my shoulder plays plays perhaps the most important part in my role with Jes in these situations. I am a shoulder to lean on when someone causes her to limp, a shoulder to cry on when someone goes too far, and a shoulder that nudges her forward when she needs the reminder to be the brave and bold pastor God has called her to be.

From Bethany: Do you experience any pressure to agree with your spouse on theological issues in order to present a 'united front' to the congregation?

Jodie: 

Bethany, the answer to this question is a resounding yes! Now, agreeing with and supporting my husband are two very different things. I do often sense that people believe that my husband and I either do agree on all theological issues or should agree. Like many couples, we have vibrant discussions about faith, politics, family, and just about everything else. Sometimes we land on opposite sides of certain issues. But, in our disagreement, we maintain respect for one another’s viewpoints. While we certainly do not always broadcast our private discussions and differences to the congregation, we give one another space and permission to wrestle with issues and arrive at different conclusions. We are each wrestling with our own complex relationship with God and through this wrestling, sharpen one another. 

So, how does this agree to disagree thing play out in front of the congregation? In short, I support my husband in public without agreeing with him 100% of the time. I don’t contradict him from the stage, but I do feel free to engage in open theological discussions via private conversation. It is important to present a “united” front to the congregation. But, to me “united” doesn’t mean that I’m a theological carbon copy of my husband. “United” means that we model mutual support and respect for one another’s viewpoints – even if they differ. 

Jim: 

While we do strive to present a "united front," this does not mean we have to agree on every theological issue. We see a "united front" as the posture rather than the position we hold. It's not so much whether or not we agree or disagree, but the way in which we do so. We don't agree about everything, privately and publicly, but we are united on the things that shape our lives most (feminist theology, queer theology, liberation theology, etc.).

I don't think a congregation needs an airtight "united front" regarding what their leaders (and their leader's partners) believe so much as they way in which they believe. Jes and I both value dialogue and collaboration, diversity and multi-vocality. To be clear, Jes and I don't agree about everything (just say the word "ontotheology" to both of us and you will see two very different expressions). But we are united in the way that we go about exploring and articulating our beliefs.

Sadly, this "posture over position" approach is not always a reality for everyone, especially when a congregation rallies around their position on issues rather than the posture they take. There is a lot of "position police" in the Christian world (thank you twitter). I'm not sure if this stems from position-paranoid pastors and seeps into congregations or if it starts with the congregation and moves to the pastor for fear of their job security (it's an unanswerable chicken/egg scenario). But I do know that for Jes and me, posture trumps position. While what we believe matters, how we believe it matters more. Regardless of the congregations we find ourselves in, this will always be the rule of life in our home.

From Sherie: Our struggle has always been the "fish bowl" that our children lived in. How many times they had to take a back seat in activities, or not be defended as another parent probably would have because it would be seen as "the pastor" is playing favorites with his kid, rather than a father is defending/supporting his child. How to encourage them to grow up not worrying about what every one thinks, but, all the while, knowing that they know everyone is watching them and often judging their parents based on their actions. It is one of the hardest parts of ministry to me. I feel like our kids were often short-changed. Any wisdom shed here would be awesome.

Jodie: 

Sherie, this is a great question. Pastors’ kids can have such a tough road. Unfortunately, the reality is that the fish bowl is not going away. Rather than resenting it and shaking our fists at it (I still shake my fists at it sometimes), I think we parents of PK’s need to figure out how to parent through it. Pure and simple, our kids cannot take a back seat to ministry. I understand that there are inevitable emergencies in ministry that take us away from our kids, but not every ministry crisis is an emergency. Setting boundaries is crucial. We need to communicate to our kids that their needs are valid, that we hear their struggles, that they have the first rights to our time and attention. In the church context, our kids need to know that we, as pastors and pastors’ spouses, are not relying on them to help maintain or benefit our reputation with congregants. Their spiritual lives must be completely separate from their parents’ job as church leaders. They need to be free to have bad days, to not know the answers, and to not feel the pressure to be perfect. 

Over the years, I have pulled many of the Sunday school teachers and youth workers in my children’s lives aside to ask them to treat my children like any other kid in the youth group. I desperately want my kids to be able to question, doubt, and wrestle with their faith without being judged and without feeling like they have to have the correct answers to all Bible trivia questions and the solution to every theological quandary. Having these conversations with other leaders in my children’s lives has helped my kids have a more “normal” church experience. I have also not ever required my children to be at every single church event and have tried to not have them attend every single service. They spend a lot of time in the church building, but not so much that they feel chained to it. In our family, we’ve tried to create a separation between dad’s job and our family life. I’m not claiming that we have struck a perfect balance, but I’m a big fan of trying to set those boundaries. 

From Becky: Jim, when both you and your spouse are ministry how do you step away from it and not let it consume your whole life? What do you do practically to protect each other and your family from letting it take over?

Jim: 

This question is one of the greatest works in progress in the Kast-Keat home. Theology and spirituality, especially from a feminist and constructive point of view, are some of our greatest shared interests, but when it also consumes much of our professional life we have to be intentional and aware about the boundaries we place on our life and relationship. One of our seminary professors was insistent about the way we prioritize our roles and functions in life: person, partner, parent, pastor. And when there are twopastors in the same house, number four can easily sneak up higher on this list than it should.

So practically, what do we do? We make sure there is more to who we are, as individuals and as partners, than our ministries and our shared interest in theology and spirituality. We cultivate shared and individual hobbies that have nothing to do with church. We play tennis. We go to the ballet. We cook dinner. We binge on Netflix. We go to bookstores. We explore new parts of New York City. We take whiskey appreciation classes. And we are intentional about our separate passions and hobbies: Jes loves fashion, I love board games. Jes plants gardens, I build websites. Jes goes out dancing, I go out photographing. (Yes, I realize that I just portrayed Jes' life as absolutely awesome and mine as utterly geeky. It's a fairly accurate portrayal.)

More than anything Jes and I are intentional about guarding our time together. With so much of our lives lived publicly with our congregations and various ministerial contexts, we find ourselves valuing the time we have without a church steeple looming overhead. This is one of the many reasons why our theological podcast (PodKastKeat, the musings of a modern day Priscilla and Aquilla) was so short lived. With so much of our individual lives revolving around theology we did not want to impose more public theology on our private life together.

But like I said, this is a work in progress. We are each other's sounding board. We share sermon ideas, ask each other's advice, and look to each other for confidence and confidentiality. In many ways it is a gift to have a partner who shares a unique empathy for our similar-yet-different work. But at other times we both find ourselves saying, "Ok, enough about church. No more talking about church for the rest of the night." All I know is that I am lucky to have a partner as supportive, strong, wise, and creative as Jes. And I aspire to be the same for her. 

From Hurt & Alone: Jodie, I’ve been a pastor’s wife for a year now and my experience has been terrifying. Because I don’t fit into [the church’s existing] culture, I’ve barely made friends….My husband is great support, but my community cannot consist of just him, and that's what this feels like….I fully supported my husband and had no problem with him accepting his call; however, after experiencing what being a pastor's wife is like (granted, at ONE church, for a very short time thus far), I have told him I wish he would seek out another vocation, or at least dropped pastoring altogether and served in other ways. I want to be his cheerleader without getting tackled in the sideline. I know he wants this, and he feels like this is what God has ordered, but it's hurt me and left me anxious, depressed, and lonely. We had to move and leave our community where I felt we were both thriving spiritually. It's such a hard place to be in: wanting to support your husband, but knowing that this job affects you directly and in a way that's been really negative and exhausting although you yourself are not on payroll. How can we spouses deal with this? How can you deal with your husband having a job that affects you in every way but is something you're not interested in? Thanks so much!

Jodie: 

Hurt and Alone, I’m so glad you have freely expressed your feelings here. So many pastors’ wives share your pain; you are not alone! The very first thing you need to do is find authentic community. The key word here is authentic. It sounds like you aren’t finding that in your current church; it’s not uncommon for pastors and pastors’ spouses to have difficulty finding deep, safe friendships within their ministry setting. I’d recommend calling a pastor’s wife from a neighboring congregation or town. Connecting with other pastors’ spouses will help bring you out of isolation into a validating community that can directly empathize with your feelings. Some of my closest friends are outside of the church. 

Second, I’d recommend getting into therapy. Find a good counselor that you can process your feelings with. Also consider marriage counseling. I honestly believe that every single couple in ministry could benefit from the help of a good therapist. In therapy, you can explore the similarities and differences in your personalities, etc. The emotional demands of ministry are gargantuan; leading can be so depleting. Caring for your own soul and your own marriage need to be non-negotiable tenets of your journey. 

Lastly, I want you to know that experiencing feelings of loneliness and depression do not mean that you are being unsupportive of your husband. It’s not wrong or sinful to ask real, hard questions about your future together in ministry. Ministry isn’t something we should merely survive. You two can thrive, but it’s going to take a concerted effort on both of your parts to communicate honestly and extend grace to one another.  

 

From The Pink Superhero: What's the one thing you wish you knew before your spouse took their first call?

Jodie: 

I absolutely wish I knew how to set the expectations of others aside. Early in our marriage, when my husband was a newbie pastor, I often felt like a fish out of water. I wanted to be a “good” pastor’s wife, but felt so invisible and alone. I felt permanently cast in the shadow and didn’t know how to find authentic community. Then, I felt simultaneously guilty that I just couldn’t nail down the role. If I could go back and talk to my younger self 18 years ago, I would tell myself to honor that fish out of water feeling and embrace the gifts God had given me instead of the impossible expectations of others. I would tell myself that saying no was an act of worship and that my relationship with Jesus had nothing to do with my performance at church. I knew these truths 18 years ago, but I didn’t feel empowered to live them. I mostly feel empowered now. ☺

Jim: 

With Sundays out of the picture, when is our weekend? In other words, what is our plan to protect and value non-work time together? (Jes and I experienced this most in her first two years when I had a the weekend off and she was working every Saturdayand Sunday, one of the many reasons I switched to a job that allowed our our days off to overlap rather than pass in the night.)

***

A HUGE thank you to Jodie and Jim for responding to these questions with such candor, wisdom, and grace. Be sure to check out the Redefine Positive Project and Thirty Seconds or Less. 

Pastor Spouses/Partners: Do you feel pressure to fit into certain roles or meet unrealistic expectations? How do you and your spouse handle theological disagreements, parenting, church drama, and making a life outside of ministry? What's the one thing you wish you knew before your spouse took their first call? 

Check out the rest of our "Ask a..." series here. 

What is heresy? (an interview with Justin Holcomb)

Heretics are everywhere!   Or at least that’s what you would guess from reading the internet these days. 

Just last week I was accused of heresy by Owen Strachan of the Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood, and I often get “farewelled” on Twitter  (or “excommunitweeted”) for the supposed heresies of egalitarianism and theistic evolution.   Conversely, I know a lot of people who brag about how they’re heretics, in a “I’m a loner, Dottie, a rebel” sort of way.   This seems to me to be a classic case of, “You keep using that word…” 

To help us sort this out from an historical and theological perspective today, we’re talking to Justin Holcomb. Justin is an Episcopal priest and professor of theology and Christian thought at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary and Reformed Theological Seminary. He is the author of the recently-released, Know the Creeds and Councils and Know the Heretics. Justin and his wife Lindsey have also co-written a book on domestic violence called Is it My Fault? 

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RHE: Thanks, Justin, for joining us! Tell us what inspired you to write Know the Heretics.

JH: Thank you for taking the time to do the interview with me. I read your blog regularly and I’m thankful to be included in the mix.

There are a few inspirations to write this book. My goal was to provide overviews that walk readers through the most important expressions and denials of Christian faith—not with a dry focus on dates and places, but with an emphasis on the living tradition of Christian belief and why it matters for our lives today.

These books on Christian history were born out of very important personal experiences. I’ve been interested in heretics since I was 17 (23 years ago) and was encouraged to leave my church by the pastors. It was like a charismatic, non-denominational version of being excommunicated. The church leaders were influenced by the United Pentecostal denomination.  United Pentecostals do not believe in the classical understanding of the Trinity. They believe in modalism, which claims that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are simply different modes, or forms, of God rather than distinct persons.

At 17, I was having intense theological discussions with some of the pastors at this church. Leaders I respected and admired were calling me a heretic, which both hurt a lot and riled me up. By the end of it, we were lobbing the “heresy bomb” left and right.

But I was convinced that what I was teaching at the church study group was considered orthodox since basically the beginning of Christianity. I had to study lots of church history, and particularly the history of creeds, councils, confessions, and heresies.

Additionally, now I serve an Episcopal priest. In the Anglican tradition, the Apostles’ Creed, Nicene Creed, and Thirty-nine Articles are very important.  So, these statement have shaped me in profound ways, some of which I am aware of and probably in many more ways I’m not aware of.

 

RHE: How does the word “heresy” get overused in contemporary Christian culture and why is that a problem? 

JH: The word “heresy” is overused and misused. The current climate of the church shows that Christians need to relearn the ability to care about right doctrine and have earnest doctrinal disagreements without shouting “heresy!” when we disagree.

Recently, I’ve also been called a heretic for two reasons. One reason is because in my preaching, teaching, and writing, I emphasize the unconditional grace and love of God because of the work of Jesus Christ. For that, I’ve been called a heretic.  They incorrectly think being an antinomian, (which I’m not), is a heresy. Antinomianism is a wrong understanding of what the bible teaches about the law of God, but it is not heresy.

The other reason is because I’m an Episcopal priest. Some have written off the entire worldwide Anglican Communion as heretical. Specifically, because I recruit both men and women for leadership and ministry in the church, some have argued that I “don’t take the bible seriously” and am therefore a heretic.

A heretic is someone who has compromised an essential doctrine and lost sight of who God really is, usually by oversimplification. Literally, heresy means “choice”—that is, a choice to deviate from traditional teaching in favor of one’s own insights.  

Heresy is not located in one’s beliefs about baptism, the continuation of certain spiritual gifts, women in ministry, or political issues. It is a specific and direct denial of any of the central beliefs of the Christian church about the deity and identity of the triune God and about the person and work of Jesus Christ.

There are those who think that heresy is anything that does not agree with their own interpretation of Holy Scripture. These people fail to differentiate between the primary and secondary elements of the Christian faith and make every belief they have into a pillar of Christianity. So, on this view, if someone disagrees with them about the millennium, about infant baptism, about the role of women in ministry, they are quickly labeled a heretic. While such impulses can be well intentioned, the church of the New Testament walked the line between holding fast to some convictions and being flexible about others.

Though this group of heresy-hunters often say they’re motivated by concern for the faith once for all delivered to the saints, their practice of labeling every diverging belief as heresy has the opposite effect. Rather than making much of right belief, they minimize its importance by making, for example, the mode of baptism as important as the divinity of Christ. When everything is central, nothing is.

RHE: Do the words “heretic” or “heresy” appear in Scripture? What is the context? 

JH: The Bible uses the word “heresy,” and even when the word is not used, the concept is clearly there. The Bible presupposes a right and a wrong interpretation of Jesus’ coming and the nature and character of God, as it uses strong language against false teachers who promote doctrines that undermine the gospel. Historical theologian Bruce Demarest is helpful here: “The New Testament expresses serious concern for ‘false doctrines’ (1 Tim. 1:3; 6:3) and places the highest priority on maintaining ‘the pattern of sound teaching’ (2 Tim. 1:13; cf. 1 Tim. 6:3). Scripture urges Christians to be alert to doctrinal deception (Mt. 24:4) and to avoid heresy by carefully guarding the pure content of the gospel (1 Cor. 11:2; Gal. 1:8).”

In Galatians 1:9, Paul uses the strongest words possible against those who distort the gospel, writing, “If anybody is preaching to you a gospel other than what you accepted, let them be under God’s curse!” 

The apostle Peter warns against “false teachers among you [who] will secretly introduce destructive heresies, even denying the sovereign Lord who bought them—bringing swift destruction on themselves” (2 Peter 2:1). These heresies will be contrary to what Christ and the apostles laid down as foundational doctrines. The resulting is spiritual ruin.

As is clear from the New Testament, the apostles were not afraid to call out heresy when they saw it. If a teaching or practice threatened the integrity of the gospel, it was strongly condemned, as in the case of Peter and the circumcision party described in Galatians 2. However, heresy was a weighty charge that was not made lightly, nor was it used whenever there was theological inaccuracy or imprecision. (I’m thinking of the response to Apollos in Acts 18:24-28.)

The New Testament speaks frequently about false teachings and doctrines. For the early church, heresy was merely teaching that stood in contrast to the right belief received from the prophets and the apostles in the Scriptures and put into written formulas in the rule of faith and the creeds. The early church formed an accepted and received statement of what is true and essential to the Christian faith. The rule of faith gave birth to more precise statements of the essentials of the faith, such as the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed. These widely accepted formulations of the essential “right doctrine” (orthodoxy) handed down from the apostles were crucial for combating heresy.

 

RHE:   In your book, you essentially define orthodoxy as adherence to the Nicene Creed.  It strikes me, though, that the Nicene Creed was developed in a complex historical context as a way of addressing some very specific questions about Christ’s nature. Why do you consider that creed so important? What gives it its “staying power”? 

JH: I went with the Nicene Creed because of my ecumenical impulse. For Christianity, the Nicene Creed is a historic, globally accepted creed that encapsulates the Christian faith in a short and rich summary. It covers the basic essentials of 1) who God is, 2) what God is like, and 3) how God saves.

I think its “staying power” is connected to that fact that the Council of Nicaea in 325 was a watershed for the Christian church. Shortly after Emperor Constantine legalized Christianity in 313, he convened the first ecumenical, fully representative, universally recognized council of the Christian church.

Another reason it is so important is because the council dealt with one of the most important questions that Christianity would ever have to face—what was the status of Jesus in relation to God? Everyone there agreed that Jesus was a divine being, but the Arians could not reconcile the idea that he was the same being as God the Father.

After a long and heated debate, the council decided that the evidence from the Bible and tradition lent itself much better to the belief that Jesus was God rather than a lesser being. Later, at the Council of Constantinople in 381, the bishops added a section to include the Holy Spirit as God as well.

 

RHE: You make a distinction between theological error and heresy. Can you explain that? 

JH: Because there is always some room for mystery and speculation, both the Roman Catholic and Reformed traditions have been careful to distinguish three “zones” between strict orthodoxy and outright heresy.

In Catholicism, to bluntly deny an explicitly defined church doctrine is heresy in the first degree. It has to be a severe contradiction, like saying that Christ is not God. A doctrine that has not been explicitly defined by one of the church’s articles of faith but diverges from the received majority view is considered an opinion approaching heresy (sententia haeresi proxima) — for instance, to say that Christ can be found in other religions. One who holds a position that does not directly contradict received tradition but logically denies an explicitly defined truth is said to be erroneous in theology (propositio theologice erronea). Finally, a belief that cannot be definitively shown to be in opposition to an article of faith of the church is said to be suspected or savoring of heresy (sententia de haeresi suspecta, haeresim sapiens).

Similarly, the Reformed tradition has traditionally distinguished three kinds of doctrinal error related to fundamental articles of the faith: (1) errors directly against a fundamental article (contra fundamentum); (2) errors around a fundamental or in indirect contradiction to it (circa fundamentum); (3) errors beyond a fundamental article (praeter fundamentum).

The point is that, historically, both the Roman Catholic tradition and the Reformed tradition have understood that not all theological errors are equally serious. Theological historian David Christie-Murray distinguishes between orthodoxy, the body of Christian belief which has emerged as a consensus through time as the church reflects on Scripture; heterodoxy, Christian belief which differs from orthodoxy but not to the point of being so erroneous to be heresy; and heresy, belief that deviates and diverges from orthodoxy beyond a certain point on essential teachings.

 

RHE: Do you also make a distinction between orthodoxy and salvation? Might a person hold unorthodox (perhaps even heretical) views and still be saved? And how do those who value the historic Christian creeds as parameters for orthodoxy avoid slipping into a saved-by-correct-theology mentality, which isn’t all that different than a saved-by-good-works mentality?

JH: I don't discuss a distinction between orthodoxy and salvation. I do believe that someone can hold heterodox views and still be saved. Also, I believe that if one is made alive by God and saved, that one of the fruits of regeneration is holding truthful beliefs about God and what God reveals.

I think a person can hold unorthodox and erroneous views and still be saved. However, I think holding a heretical view, as I defined it as denial of an essential doctrine, is to deny the Savior and his salvation.  Salvation is robustly Trinitarian and Christocentric.

I agree that we don’t want to slip in a salvation-by-correct-theology mentality. We are saved by God’s grace through faith in Christ. The issue is—In what version of Christ are people putting their faith? Most of the heresies about Christ being either fully God or fully human were not just about abstract metaphysics but were ultimately about salvation. The Christian tradition stated clearly that for Jesus Christ to be the savior means that he must be truly God and truly human.

I also don't want to add to the Bible’s answer (Acts 16:30-31) to the question—What must I do to be saved? The answer is “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ.” This sounds to me like “Have faith in the Jesus as he revealed himself as savior, Lord, and fulfillment of God’s promise to save.”

To paraphrase Philip Schaff, the point of the orthodox creeds is not that we are saved by memorizing a set of statements, but that we are saved by trusting in the one who has revealed himself. Trusting in him, as far as he has told us about himself, is what saves, while straying from him is what condemns.

Studying the heresies has driven home to me the need for humility. Christians should agree that there exists a perfect orthodoxy in the mind of God; however, the proliferation of schisms, disagreements, and divisions throughout church history points to the fact that we as sinful and fallible humans are imperfect at agreeing precisely on that orthodoxy. The general overview of the heresies and the church’s orthodox responses in Know the Heretics and Know the Creeds and Councils should make it clear how messy the pursuit for theological truth can be.

However, there is room for mystery in Christian belief. We must remember that the entirety of what we think Christians should believe is not identical to what a person must believe to be saved. We believe in justification by faith in Christ, not justification by accuracy of doctrine. My dear friend, Burk Parsons, recently put it this way: “Believing the doctrine of justification by faith alone does not justify you. What justifies you is having faith in Jesus, and in him alone.”

We are not saved by our intellectual precision; we are saved by the grace of Jesus. That does not diminish the importance of correct doctrine, but rather allows it its proper place in glorifying the triune God, who graciously saves sinners because of the person and work of Christ.

The line between orthodoxy and heresy has developed over time and through theological conflict, and the line between heterodoxy and heresy is blurry. That means we need lots of wisdom, discernment, and humility before we declare that someone has departed into full-blown heresy. At the same time, we should be clear in our minds on the non-negotiables of Christian doctrine and belief.

 

RHE: While the Nicene Creed references Scripture, its focus is on the person and nature of Jesus Christ, not the nature of Scripture. And yet so many debates among Christians today center around questions about the nature of, interpretation of, and application of Scripture. (And, at least in my world, this is the context in which most accusations of heresy arise.) I suspect you will agree that two Christians can dispute various interpretations of Scripture and, so long as they affirm the creeds, remain within the parameters of orthodoxy. But would you say that two Nicene-affirming Christians could disagree on the nature of Scripture—like, one uses the term “inerrant” while the other finds that unhelpful —and remain within the parameters of orthodoxy? And doesn’t a creedal understanding of orthodoxy, in a sense, place ultimate authority on the tradition of the Church rather than on Scripture? Or does the degree to which Scripture informed the creeds make this a non sequitur? 

JH: I do think two Nicene-affirming Christians could disagree on the doctrine of scripture and remaining within the parameters of orthodoxy.  That was a question I had when I worked on an academic volume of edited essays called Christian Theologies of Scripture.

I referred to “theologies of scripture” to include the diverse discussions about the nature, authority, interpretation, and uses (liturgical, political, corporate, personal, etc.) of scripture, as well as the relationship between scripture and tradition. 

Christians recognize the Bible as authoritative, although the nature and extent of that authority is a matter of debate. Christians agree that the Bible bears witness to the drama of redemption in both the history of Israel and the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Within this basic agreement on the importance of scripture, however, various theologies of scripture have emerged.  Different theologies of scripture exist not because the Christian tradition is inherently contentious and cannot reach a consensus, but because each moment, era, and epoch raises different questions about the nature, authority, and interpretation of scripture, and about how scripture relates to tradition, reason, and experience.

To your question about authority, I do think the degree to which the scriptures informed the creeds is the key. The creeds emerged from scripture and where depending on scripture.  If one sees the creeds as extensions of the apostles’ teaching and writing of scripture, there is less conflict between competing authorities.

Following the apostles, early church creedal statements codified orthodoxy into a widely accepted form. Even before important Christian beliefs such as the canon of Scripture (list of books in the Bible) and the Trinity had been carefully articulated, the mainstream of Christian believers and leaders had a sense of the essential truths that had been handed down from the apostles and the prophets, and passed along to each generation of Christians through Scripture, sermons, and baptismal creeds. Before the developments at Nicaea and Chalcedon regarding he proper beliefs about the Trinity and the dual natures of Christ, the early church possessed what is known as the “rule of faith.”

Demarest explains, “The early church defended itself against heretical teaching by appealing to ‘the rule of faith’ or ‘the rule of truth’, which were brief summaries of essential Christian truths ... The fluid ‘rule of faith’ gave way to more precise instruments for refuting heresies and defining faith, namely, creedal formulations such as the Apostles’ Creed, the Nicene Creed, the Definition of Chalcedon and the Athanasian Creed.”

The New Testament speaks frequently about true and false teaching and doctrine. For the early church, heresy was merely teaching that stood in contrast to the right belief (orthodoxy) received from the prophets and the apostles in the Scriptures and put into written formulas in the rule of faith and the creeds. The early church formed an accepted and received statement of what is true and essential to the Christian faith. The rule of faith gave birth to more precise statements of the essentials of the faith, such as the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed. These widely accepted formulations of the essential “right doctrine” (orthodoxy) handed down from the apostles were crucial for combating heresy and for the life of the church

 

RHE: Okay, Justin, I can affirm the Nicene Creed “without my fingers crossed” and believe the Bible to be the inspired Word of God, but unlike a lot of evangelicals, I support women in ministry and full inclusion of LGBT people in the Church. Am I a heretic? 

JH: You might be a heretic :-) … but not for holding those views. One approach, which I don't think is helpful, makes every single belief equally important. I don't think it is correct for others to make the views you hold on those issues equal to your Christology. As you know, views on these issues are very important and have serious theological implications.

Another approach to avoid is to flatten things out and lower one’s doctrine of God to the level of someone’s view on women’s ordination. My complementarian friends have had some pretty cruel things said about them and have been anathematized as if they are heretics challenging the nature of God.

You may be wrong on those issues, but I don’t think holding those positions makes you a heretic. I’m not trying to “let you off on a technicality.” Here’s the deal: We both think we are correct in the views we hold. If I thought I was wrong I’d change my mind and hold a different belief. So, let’s all be honest that we each think we are right.  But we also know that there are places where we are wrong; we just aren’t sure where those places are. And we may be wrong either as a matter of fact (maybe God doesn’t want women ordained or infants baptized) or as a matter of emphasis (perhaps we over emphasize the sovereignty of God in salvation).

This goes for both progressive and conservative types. If a believer holds to the Nicene Creed, we should not call them a heretic, no matter how strongly we believe they are in error on the details or on other non-essential doctrines. They may still be wrong, and they may be heterodox, but we cannot call them heretics, because they fit within the bounds of historic Christianity.

from our Rally to Restore Unity

Even with my more narrow definition of heresy, we should still discuss and debate with those whose beliefs are wrong. We can still say that their teachings are not a good application of Scripture to life and doctrine. But don’t treat them as heretics. Treat them as brothers and sisters with whom we lovingly disagree. As the famous saying goes, “In essentials unity, in nonessentials liberty, and in all things love.”

Rather than either of the extremes—nothing is heresy on the one hand, and everything that I disagree with is heresy on the other—the church has continually confessed that heresy is that which deviates from the central teachings of the Christian faith, as expressed in the rule of faith and subsequently in the church’s confessions. As such, Christians today would do well to recover the doctrinal precision of the early church before judging any belief as heretical.

Perhaps the best way to construct an opposite of “heresy” is not simply “right belief”—though, technically speaking, orthodoxy is the opposite of heresy. The category of “confession” is much more positive. Since even the demons have “right belief,” it is appropriate to see confession as a joyful dependence on the gospel of Jesus Christ. John Webster writes, “To confess is to cry out in acknowledgement of the sheer gratuity of what the gospel declares, that in and as the man Jesus, in the power of the Holy Spirit, God’s glory is the glory of his self-giving, his radiant generosity. Very simply, to confess is to indicate ‘the glory of Christ’ (2 Cor. 8.23).”

An attitude of humble, charitable engagement stands in stark contrast to the spirit of some caustic theological conflict today. Rather than turning disagreement into division, we should contend for the truth with humility and grace. That’s how Jesus treated us.

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Thank you, Justin. Be sure to check out Know the Creeds and Councils and Know the Heretics.  (And for another interesting perspective on this, see Tony Jones’ post, “What Heresy Is: A Post for Rachel Held Evans") 

Alright, people, DISCUSS!