Rachel Held Evans's Blog, page 49

Williamsburg, Virginia Schedule

I’m
headed back to Virginia this weekend to hang out with the good folks of the Wesley
Foundation at The College of William and Mary.  Here’s a schedule for those who might be
interested in stopping by to say hello.

Sunday,
February 10th

8:15 and 11 a.m services at Williamsburg United Methodist Church

500 Jamestown Road

Williamsburg, VA 23185
Sermon
- "Beyond the Blueprint: Becoming People of Valor"

7pm at William and Mary Andrews Hall 101

"My Year of Biblical Womanhood" with question/answer and reception to
follow.

Monday, February 11th

3:30
p.m. Coffee and conversation with young adults at Wesley Foundation,
526
Jamestown Road

Williamsburg, VA 23185

7pm  at William and Mary, Commonwealth Auditorium, Sadler Center

“On Doubting Well" with question/answer and reception to follow.

Random fact: Jon Stewart graduated from The College of William
and Mary, which means I already owe this school a debt of gratitude.

Maybe I’ll see you there….

Your Lent Ideas....

So Lent arrives early this year, with Ash Wednesday less than a week away. Hard to believe, right? 

For the past three years, I've shared "40 Ideas for Lent" on the blog and have been surprised by how many people find the list helpful. (The 2012 edition was one of last year's most popular posts.) See: 

40 Ideas for Lent 2012
40 Ideas for Lent 2011
40 Ideas for Lent 2010

This year, I'm enlisting your help as I update and improve the recommendations. The categories are usually: questions to ask yourself; book recommendations; disciplines, fasts & rituals; mediations. But I'm open to changing those up. So take a gander at the past lists to get a sense of how it works, and let me know if you have any ideas. I'm especially interested in creative disciplines, fasts, & rituals...so if your faith community does something cool, let us know. 

I'll pick my favorite ideas and include them in the 2013 list, with a link to the comment section so readers can look through all the ideas. 

Questions to get you started: What prayers do you find particularly meaningful during Lent? What have been some meaningful Lent experiences in your past? Does your church have any unique Lenten traditions? Does your family? Is there a book you plan to work through during Lent? Is there a fast you have tried in the past that was especially helpful?

Thanks for your help! Let's crowdsource this thing! :-) 

The absurd legalism of gender roles

In the wake of  the U.S. military’s recent
decision to loosen restrictions on women in combat, a 2007 article by John
Piper entitled “Co-ed Combat and Cultural Cowardice” has resurfaced and made
some waves.

Arguing that all men
are “hardwired” to protect, while all women are “hardwired” to be protected,
Piper gives a real-life example of how these set-in-stone gender roles should
be applied:

“Suppose a couple of you students, Jason and
Sarah, were walking to McDonald’s after dark. And suppose a man with a knife
jumped out of the bushes and threatened you. And suppose Jason knows that Sarah
has a black belt in karate and could probably disarm the assailant better than
he could. Should he step back and tell her to do it? No. He should step in
front of her and be ready to lay down his life to protect her, irrespective of
competency. It is written on his soul. That is what manhood does.”

If this sounds a bit
nutty to you, you’re not alone.

Jenny Rae
Armstrong, who is swiftly becoming one of my favorite bloggers on
gender equality in the Church, wrote a fantastic response to the article.

Some
highlights:

The really interesting thing here is that while
Piper acknowledges that gender stereotypes do not always line up with reality,
and that clinging to traditional gender roles is not always the most efficient,
effective way of getting things done, he insists that it is right to cling to
them anyway, even at the cost of life, limb, and a competent woman’s
conscience. It seems to me that this is because he views
masculinity, femininity, and the relationship between men and women as
symbolic, almost a Christianized version of Plato’s Theory of
Forms. In this paradigm, the individual is subsumed by the ideal, the
here-and-now human relationship by the eschatological one it points toward. It
doesn’t matter if Sarah has a black belt, and Jason is physically handicapped
in some way–the important thing is that they live up to some cosmic ideal of
manhood and womanhood, as a way of representing God and humanity’s relationship
with Him.

…This is not to diminish the fact that many men
would willingly die to protect their wife, or any woman in the vicinity. But is
this because he is a man, because sacrifice and protection is what manhood
does? Or is it because he has a godly impulse to defend those he perceives as
vulnerable, because he was taught that it is the honorable thing to do? And
don’t godly women have that same impulse? Is a man more likely to sacrifice
himself for a woman than, say, a woman is to sacrifice herself for a
child?...

...Certainly, the masculine and feminine aspects of humanity reveal
something beautiful and important about God’s character, and marriage is often used
as an analogy of our relationship with God. When masculinity, femininity, or
marriage is in some way diminished, our understanding of God is, as well. The
human tendency, however, is to take this too far; to sort and systematize and
simplify gender until all we’re left with is a dry list of desirable
characteristics and behaviors assigned to each gender.

When
we force people into gender-based boxes, insist that individuals conform to our
concept of what men and women are supposed to be, we
lose the wonder, the mystery, and the full-orbed expression of God’s image
uniquely revealed in each human being. God created us male and female, yes,
but He didn’t just create us male and female; he created us Jenny and Aaron,
and Jason and Sarah, and John and Noel. All of us reflect God’s image in
different ways. And it is very good.

Here’s what it comes down to for me. My gender is not something I perform; it is something I am.
Womanhood is not something I do; it is something I live. Femininity does not
define me; as a woman created in the image of God, I define it, in community
with my sisters. When we reduce manhood and womanhood to a list of
characteristics, behaviors, and roles assigned to each gender, we are not
defending masculinity and femininity; instead, we are diminishing and
impoverishing them.

You shouting “amen” yet? Be sure to read the entire post.
It’s outstanding.

I think Jenny gets to the heart of a major problem with the
evangelical complementarianism movement: legalism.

The complementarianism of,
say, John Piper, Mark Driscoll, Owen Strachan and the Council on Biblical
Manhood and Womanhood relies heavily on demanding that all men conform to
rigid, prescriptive standards of manhood and that all women conform to rigid,
prescriptive standards of womanhood, regardless of personality, giftedness,
culture, circumstances, and perhaps most ironically, the very complementary
character qualities that often make a relationship work!

This is legalism, plain and simple, for it  reduces faithfulness to a list of rules and
roles that must be maintained…even when maintaining them is absurd or
destructive.

For example, according to Strachan, a man who makes less
money than his wife or chooses to serve the family as a stay-at-home dad is a
“man fail” because “men are called to be leaders, providers,
protectors and women are nurturers.” Women are called to keep the home,
according to Strachan, doing “the vast majority of the cooking,
cleaning, and managing of the house,” while a man “provides for the family.”

It
matters not whether a family’s unique financial position makes such an
arrangement desirable or necessary, or whether, for example, a man enjoys
cooking for his family or a woman enjoys going to work.  According to Strachan, any deviation
from these roles represents moral and spiritual failure.

[It should be noted here that complementarian notions of
manhood and womanhood tend to be based on culturally –influenced stereotypes,
many of which project idealized notions of the post-industrial revolution
nuclear family onto biblical texts rather than taking those texts on their own
terms—a topic we’ve discussed at length in the past and will continued to
discuss in the future.]

For Driscoll, “real men” are “heterosexual, win-a-fight,
punch-you-in-the-nose dudes” who enjoy beer and sports and detest anything
effeminate or girly. “Real women” are submissive and supportive wives and
mothers.  “Real marriage” happens,
presumably, when a “real man” marries “a real woman.” Men and women who fail to
live up to these gender stereotypes are routinely ridiculed by Driscoll.

You see this sort of language a lot in complementarian
literature: “real men,” “real women,” “real marriage,” “hardwired,”
“programmed,” “blueprint”—as if masculinity and femininity are rigid,
set-in-stone ideals to which we must ascribe, rather than fluid expressions of our unique selves. As Jenny so aptly put it, this approach turns gender into
performance. Failure to perform results in shaming.  The goal is to “play your position” and stick
with your prescribed role, whether or not it feels right, whether or not it
makes sense for your marriage or family.

Piper’s black-belt example may seem extreme, but I’ve seen
the same sort of legalism that would require a capable woman to step aside as
her boyfriend gets pummeled wreak havoc on real-life relationships.

I’ve heard from women who said they tried desperately for
years to quiet their ambitions and leadership skills because they felt those
gifts violated God-ordained “femininity.” I’ve heard from couples who were left
exhausted and guilt-ridden trying to play by the rules of gender hierarchy that
required the man to always lead and the woman to always follow, regardless of
gifting or areas of expertise.  I’ve
spoken with tearful men who, despite the fact that they love being stay-at-home
dads, have been ostracized and mocked by their churches.  I’ve sat through women’s Bible’s studies in
which I was taught how to convince my husband that something is his idea, even
if it isn’t, in order to keep the hierarchy intact while still getting my way.
(I think manipulation is an unintended consequence of hierarchal marriages, which
perhaps should be the subject of separate post.) I’ve received countless emails
from women who, upon reading about the original intent of Proverbs 31 in A Year
of Biblical Womanhood, report that for the first time in their lives, they no
longer feel that they are falling short of some sort of impossible standard of
womanhood.

Legalism is
destructive, certainly. And it is often absurd.  Framing gender stereotypes as God’s will turns
too many men and women into actors and too many marriages into elaborate
performances rather than genuine partnerships. What we end up with is a black
belt watching her boyfriend get beaten to a pulp, a family choosing financial
ruin over stay-at-home-fatherhood, the true chef in the house eating hot
pockets, the math whizz getting barred from financial planning, a loving father
being told he’s not a natural “nurturer,” an ambitious organizer being told
she’s not a natural “leader.”

As Jenny puts it, “When we reduce manhood and womanhood to a list of
characteristics, behaviors, and roles assigned to each gender, we are not
defending masculinity and femininity; instead, we are diminishing and
impoverishing them.”

A
few months ago, author and blogger Donald Miller asked, “Do women want to be
treated like men, or do women want to be treated equally?” 

His
question and his post have been bothering me for months…for a lot of reasons.
But the main reason is this: The question itself relies on a static
understanding of masculinity and femininity that assumes all women are to be
treated one way and all men are to be treated another way. We’re back to the
stereotypes, back to the cutout paper dolls upon which we list characteristics
and roles and rules.

How
do I want to be treated?

Like
the stereotypical man? Nope.

Like
the stereotypical woman? Nope.

What
I want is to be treated like a human being, like the unique person God created
me to be.

I
want to be treated like Rachel.

And
thankfully, I married a man who does just that.

Dan
knows, for example, that I would rather get tickets to the next Alabama vs. Tennessee
game for Valentine’s Day than, say, jewelry or flowers. If he buys me the
tickets, is he treating me like “a man”? Or is he treating me like me—a girl
who is intuitive and ambitious, needs both love and respect, likes football and
hates heels, prefers science fiction to romantic comedy, is competitive as hell
and compassionate to a fault? 

Dan
doesn’t treat me like “a woman,” any more than I treat Dan like “a man.”

We
treat each other like Dan and Rachel.

 And so Dan leads where Dan is strong, and I
lead where I am strong. Dan celebrates and affirms my gifts, while I celebrate
and affirm Dan’s gifts. Sometimes Dan is the primary breadwinner; sometimes I
am the primary breadwinner. One of our shared goals in life is to be work-from-home-parents
who share the responsibilities of childcare together. We make decisions
together as a team, settling into the roles that suit us best, based on
giftedness, calling, and, (when it comes to household chores) who hates doing
certain tasks the least. We both look to Jesus Christ as our example. We both
love, and we both submit.

To
the legalist, this might make Dan a “man fail” and me a “woman fail.”

But
for us, it makes us happy, whole, and free.

For us, it's not only practical; it's redemptive.

***

Be
sure to read Jenny Rae
Armstrong’s post.

For Dan’s take on all this, check out his article, “Roles,
Leadership, and Supporting Your Partner.”

Ask a Liberation Theologian… (Response)

As expected, scholar and activist Monica Coleman responded to
your questions for “Ask a Liberation Theologian” with insight and grace.

An ordained elder in the African Methodist Episcopal Church,
Coleman has earned degrees at Harvard University, Vanderbilt University and
Claremont Graduate University. Coleman is currently Associate Professor of
Constructive Theology and African American Religions and Co-Director of the
Center for Process Studies at Claremont School of Theology in southern
California. She is also Associate Professor of Religion at Claremont Graduate
University.

As a survivor of rape, Coleman became committed to speaking out
against sexual violence in 1996. She founded and coordinated “The Dinah
Project,” an organized church response to sexual violence, at Metropolitan
Interdenominational Church in Nashville, TN. Her most recent book is Not Alone: Reflections on Faith and Depression-a 40-Day Devotional.  She is the author of Making a Way Out of No Way: a Womanist Theology,
co-editor of Creating Women’s Theologies: A Movement
Engaging Process Thought, and editor of the forthcoming Ain’t I a
Womanist Too?: Third Wave Womanist Religious Thought. Monica
blogs on the intersection of faith and depression at Beautiful
Mind Blog and
writes a biweekly column, “Women, In Flesh and Spirit” at Patheos.  

I wanted to feature liberation theology because I hear people
reference it now and then, but I really don’t know much about it, and I suspect
I’m not alone. I also suspect it’s one of those fields of theology that is
often misunderstood, particularly at the popular level.  Many thanks to
Monica for helping us understand it better.

***

From Benjamin:   I grew up in pretty conservative evangelical circles, where
liberation theology was generally ignored (or, if mentioned, might have been
described as just another version of the "social gospel"). How would
you summarize the message of liberation theology to someone from an evangelical
background? Is there common ground evangelicals might share with liberation
theology?

 Liberation
theology focuses on the ministry of Jesus as recorded in the Bible – the
gospels in particular.  Liberation
theology looks to the words of Jesus in Luke 4 where he describes his call to
ministry (echoing the words of the ancient prophet Isaiah) and at the ways that
he included many of the outcast (women, Samaritans, tax collectors, etc.) in
his ministry and parable.  From that,
liberation theology concludes that God cares about the oppressed.  From what I understand, evangelicals also
value the biblical witness to the ministry of Jesus and bringing people closer
to relationship with God.

From Brian:   Liberation
Theology is often criticized as reframing the gospel as a social/political
agenda at the expense of the message of forgiveness of sins through Jesus. I
suppose the same thing could be said about the religious right. How do you feel
Liberation Theology competes with or compliments different understandings of
the gospel?

There
are some liberation theologians who consider reconciliation between oppressed
and oppressor (“forgiveness of sins”) to be part of a vision of
liberation.  Two examples off the top of
my head are J. Doetis Roberts and Johnny B. Hill. 

But
to answer your larger question, I would say that all theology is
political.  In part because Christianity
did not begin in a political vacuum and we don’t live in a political vacuum
even now.  Some understandings of the
gospel focus on the work of God through Jesus for individuals.  They may also focus on the life that Jesus
promises in another life; i.e. heaven. 
Liberation theology, on the other hand, cares about the work of God
through Jesus for communities and focuses on how Jesus describes a
transformation of the world in which we live. 
These are two very different theologies based on the same books in the
Bible. 

From Rachel:   When you google "Liberation
Theology," the second article to come up after Wikipedia is an article
about liberation theology by TV personality Glenn Beck, who describes
liberation theology as a "perversion of God." We heard a lot of this
type of language in the wake of the Jeremiah Wright video that surfaced just
before the 2008 presidential election. I'm wondering how theologians like you
felt about that sudden exposure and the way liberation theology has been
discussed in the media. Do you feel like liberation theology has a PR problem,
or has it always been misunderstood, especially by the privileged? Why do you
think that video struck such a nerve, and what might the reaction to it reveal
about common misconceptions about liberation theology among the American public?

I
think that all theology outside of the religious right has a PR problem in the
U.S.  Glenn Beck’s comments about
liberation theology – in conjunction with the clips from Jeremiah Wright’s
sermons – brought liberation theology to the attention of mainstream
media.  I’m actually glad about it
because it gave liberation theologians an opportunity to share about liberation
theology in a more public way.  I spoke
about it on Air Talk on NPR at the time. 
You can listen to it here. 

I
think the video struck a nerve because more recently patriotism has been
identified as having an unquestioning loyalty to the government.  This is especially true since we have been
involved in wars.  Thus many people felt
that a critique of the government was unpatriotic and problematic.  I also think that a majority culture can
easily ignore the sentiments and circumstances of those in a minority position;
whereas those in a minority position are well-versed in the dominant
culture.  Thus the majority culture (“the
privileged”) felt surprised that people in a minority position (in this case,
some African Americans) had a different perspective on life, country and
religion.  Jesus critiqued the government
of his time – the Roman occupation of lands that were holy and sacred to his
Jewish community.  For liberation
theologians, speaking out on behalf of the disempowered is Christ-like.

From Josh:   I've
always heard of Liberation Theology in the context of its strong affiliation
with the various Socialist movements in Latin America in the 1900s. Almost a
reverse-prosperity-Gospel that emphasizes the goodness of the poor over against
the wealthy, which sounds to my capitalist sensibilities like class warfare
rather than the Gospel. Because of this, I've always associated the theology
with the political ideology. Can you differentiate or help explain what
Liberation Theology might look like in the context of our society in America?
How does Liberation Theology extend beyond the capitalist/socialist struggle
that was occurring in Latin America in a specific era?

Liberation
theology in Latin America and black theology in the United States were being
born at around the same time somewhat independently.  Other liberation theologies include feminist
theology, disability theology, womanist theology, ecological theology, gay and
lesbian theology (to name a few). Most of these are not associated with a
critique of capitalism.  Theologies that
look at the experiences of those who are oppressed or silenced are often
liberation theologies.  They all critique
systems of domination.  Liberation
theology is always contextual though – it will speak to a certain time and
place and circumstance.  You might enjoy
Sallie McFague’s book Life Abundant
where she describes what she calls “a liberation theology for white North
American Christians.”  She addresses how
our theologies may respond to issues of global climate change.

From Suzannah: Would you explain the
differences between womanist and feminist liberation theology? How have white
feminists excluded black women and what can we do to be more
inclusive/intersectional?

Historically
womanist theology is distinguished from feminist theology for speaking to the
experiences of black women and their experiences at the intersection of race,
class and gender.  Since its origins,
many white feminists have taken seriously the critiques of race and class
initially raised by womanist theologians. 
There are also some non-black women who associate with womanist theology
– such as Lee Skye, an aboriginal Australian woman – and many women of color
who identify with feminist theology – sometimes while also identifying as
womanist, mujerista (Latina), Asian American, etc. I think many white feminists
do theology that is sensitive to and inclusive of race, class, orientation,
ability, etc. in addition to gender.  I
think that white feminist theology that seeks to examine class and race
privilege well addresses critiques of womanists and other women-of-color
feminists.

From Travis:   Monica, you've appeared several times
on the Homebrewed Christianity podcast to talk about process theology (and I've
enjoyed hearing you speak every time). How does process theology relate to
liberation theology?

I
am a process theologian and a liberation theologian. For me, I believe that God
is calling us towards a vision that includes beauty, truth, adventure, art and justice.  Thus, God interact with the world, changing
the world and being changed by the world, but calling us to work to create a
world that is ever more liberative.  I
don’t describe God has being on the side of the oppressed, but rather on the
side against oppression – wherever it is found – and advocating justice –
wherever it can be found.  But the timing
of this question is ironic because process theologian John Cobb just wrote
about how process and liberation theology intersect here.

From Saskia: My question has to do
with your work on sexual violence and the church. A survivor myself, I am
acutely aware of this issue in a way my non-survivor friends aren't. How do I
start the conversation on this in a church environment that doesn't seem very
receptive to it?

I think that
there are many ways to introduce the issue of sexual violence in a church
environment that is not very receptive to it. 
Here are a couple: attend a “Take Back the Night” event with a teen
group or women’s group.  Talk about
“dating violence” with a teen, college or young adult group.  Or bring in someone who can talk about
this.  See if there are any social
workers or therapists in your church – perhaps they have ideas or expertise
with other local environments.  There are
also small ways like posting information on a bulletin board or inside the
women’s bathroom during April – Sexual Assault Awareness Month.  I mention others in my book, The
Dinah Project. 

Several
readers expressed interest in entry-level book recommendations on liberation
theology for newcomers to the topic. Suggestions?

I recommend Liberation Theologies in the United States: an Introduction
edited by Stacey M. Floyd-Thomas and Anthony B. Pinn (New York: NYU Press,
2010).

***

(You can check out every installment of our interview
series—which includes “Ask an atheist,” “Ask a nun,” “Ask a pacifist,” “Ask a
Calvinist,” “Ask a Muslim,” “Ask a gay Christian,” “Ask a Pentecostal” “Ask an
environmentalist,” “Ask a funeral director,” and  many more—here.)

Sick day...

Taking a few sick days here on the blog, as I've got the flu.

Fever. Aches. Coughs.

So. much. snot.

It's the whole package, folks. I'm so sick I don't even have an opinion on Beyonce. 

When I was a little girl, my mom used to buy me a present when I got sick. (The chicken pox earned me a magna doodle.) This has made every sickness of my young adulthood a pretty major letdown. 

Hopefully, we'll be back up and running in a few days with Monica Coleman's responses to your questions for "Ask a Liberation Theologian," a final installment of our discussion of Justin Lee's book "Torn," Sunday Superlatives, and a bunch of other goodies including a post on love & respect (and how women and men need BOTH!). For now, I need to focus on getting better before my next trip to Virginia. Dan's taking good care of me. 

This may be Nyquil talking, but I love you all.

Thanks for your patience. 

Mary, Joanna, & Great Reversals by Sara Barton

I’m travelling this week, so posting will be a little
spotty. The upside is that I get to feature one of my favorite women of valor,
Sara Barton, in a guest post today.

Sara teaches in the Religion Department at Rochester
College in Michigan. She is pursuing a Doctor of Ministry in Missional and
Spiritual Formation at David Lipscomb University.  Her book, A
Woman Called, is one of my favorite books on women in the Church, and
she blogs at SaraBarton.com. Sara and
her family have stayed connected with Ugandans since serving as missionaries,
and you can learn more about ongoing creative partnerships and sustainable
solutions in East Africa at  www.kibogroup.org.  

Enjoy this fantastic reflection on Mary and Joanna--women of valor! 

***

I did a double take as I
passed the collection basket.  Was that
an egg I saw wobbling about among the coins? As a missionary in Uganda, there
was little that surprised me after a while of living cross-culturally, but it
took me a moment to realize that the fresh, brown egg (there are ways of
deducing that an unwashed egg is fresh) was indeed a purposeful offering. 

Later in the service, the
worship leader held the egg high above his head, and it was sold to the highest
bidder, bringing far more than an egg would cost at the local market.  The egg-giver, a widow who sees less than
$100 go in and out of her household in a year, had no coins for the collection,
so she brought what God had given her that very morning.  And instead of shaming her poverty, the
church called attention to her generosity, and worship turned into a bidding
war for her gift.  All three of her teeth
gleamed as she laughed and clapped over the hoopla her gift had created.  Eventually, I would bid for eggs myself, and
mangos, and papayas.  Folks brought what
they had – and God was glorified.  I
often heard Jesus whispering the words from Luke 21 in my ear:

 “Truly I tell
you,” he said, “this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All
these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty
put in all she had to live on.”

I wrote about the egg
experience in our missionary newsletter, and the next time I was home on
furlough, I was reminded that sometimes people actually read the
newsletter.  I was visiting a friend of
mine, a well-to-do widow with a gorgeous home and a beautiful smile, and she
told me that the story of the widow’s egg had so deeply touched her that she
used it as a daily reminder of the importance of generosity. In response to my
egg story, she had purchased a beautiful decorative egg and placed it on her
nightstand, right beside her Bible. 

She rushed to her bedroom
and came back to show me this thing, this
elaborate egg with flowery golden designs perched upon a matching bejeweled
stand.  My first reaction was judgment, a
sentiment that often flowed freely through my veins on furlough trips to
opulent America.  That egg probably cost
as much as the real egg-giver saw in an entire year, said my inner voice, as I
faked a smile. 

Luke’s Gospel backs me up
here.  With his theme of a great
reversal, Luke teaches that “the rich” (1:53; 4:18; 6:20-24; 7:22, 14:13, 21;
16:19-31) already have their comfort, and because of it, they miss recognizing
the Son of God when he’s right there in front of them.  So, with a reversal of what’s expected in
this world, the brightly-scrubbed and well-dressed are rejected. The poor,
however, those who have no worldly comfort or prestige, accept Jesus and are accepted
in return.  Jesus explicitly teaches the
great reversal when he says, “Blessed are you who are poor, and woe to you who
are rich.” 

Mary perhaps best epitomizes
this reversal.  An adolescent from
nowhere-Nazareth, with zero social capital in her patriarchal world, is lifted
up to receive and proclaim the great reversal. The way of God, she sings, is to
fill hungry people with good things while the rich are sent away empty. The way
of God, she sings, is to dethrone powerful rulers and empower humble servants.

Luke parades great reversals
through his Gospel and Acts, as those who are often in last place - the blind
and deaf, the lame, the sexually mutilated, Samaritans, Gentiles, sinners,
children, and women are given first-place status in Jesus’ upside-down, reversed
kingdom.

Luke’s reversal is
clear:  God exalts the poor and humbles
the rich.

But then, into Luke’s story walks
a rich woman and her symbolic fancy egg. 
Apparently, Luke likes this great reversal thing so much that just when
we think we have it down, he forces our hearts to do it again. 

Joanna, a woman mentioned in
the Gospels, isn’t one of those leading lady characters from Scripture, like Rachel
or Sarah.  Luke makes two short
references to her in chapters 8 and 24, but both brief references notably place
her square in the middle of Jesus’ ministry.

I find Joanna terribly
intriguing.  Let’s get her story straight
(See Luke 8:1-4 and Luke 24): 

Joanna, wife of Chuza, is
healed of evil spirits and/or disease. Chuza is Herod’s household manager
(today we might call him a CFO), a position with high responsibility and good
pay. This Herod may have been the same sly fox who ordered the death of John
the Baptist. Managing his household would have
been lucrative, so Joanna was a well-to-do woman who could have returned to a
life of leisure after her healing. 

Instead, she joined the
ragtag group traveling with Jesus and the Twelve, witnessing first-hand his
proclamation of the good news of the Kingdom of God.  Not only did Joanna witness his ministry, she
financially supported Jesus out of her own means.  Eventually, courageously following Jesus out
of Galilee to Jerusalem, Joanna was one of the first people entrusted with the
message that Jesus was not dead but miraculously alive! And with the other
witnesses to Jesus’ resurrection, she waited in Jerusalem to receive the gift
of the Holy Spirit. 

It only takes a couple brief
verses to determine that Joanna had
chutzpah.  She left a life of ease
and generously gave her resources to an itinerant preacher who taught her about
loving the poor and outcast. When Jesus was arrested, sentenced to death for
treason, and killed through violent capital punishment, Joanna could have
quietly slipped back home.

But she did not leave Jesus.
She did not turn away.  She prepared
spices for his dead body instead, and she went to his tomb while his male
followers were in hiding. 

She was a woman of
valor. 

A rich woman of valor. 

Luke and his great
reversals:  Jesus, Luke illustrates,
makes it frustratingly difficult to label people.  Just when you think you’ve determined who’s
in and who’s out, Jesus calls a rich tax collector, Levi, to join his inner
group, or he invites himself to dine at the home of Zachaeus, whose riches came
through deceit and fraud.

As we deeply contemplate the
great reversal in Luke, a rich woman, Joanna, forces us to widen our definition
of Jesus’ teaching about “the rich” and “the poor.” 

Jesus calls us to enter a
topsy-turvy world in which the heart is examined for poverty and wealth, not
just the pocketbook.

So, a proper understanding
of Luke’s great reversal condemns me for sitting on my missionary judgment seat
about the golden egg.  It chastises me
for resting in the comfort of my missionary sacrifice when there’s no doubt I’m
a rich, privileged, educated American who must constantly allow God to take my
comfort and redefine it. 

May we simultaneously remember
both Mary’s poverty and Joanna’s wealth. 
May we remain open to the surprise and newness that come when we
redefine our preconceptions of people according to the topsy-turvy Kingdom of
God.

Mary, Joanna, & Great Reversals by Sara Barton

I’m travelling this week, so posting will be a little
spotty. The upside is that I get to feature one of my favorite women of valor,
Sara Barton, in a guest post today.

Sara teaches in the Religion Department at Rochester
College in Michigan. She is pursuing a Doctor of Ministry in Missional and
Spiritual Formation at David Lipscomb University.  Her book, A
Woman Called, is one of my favorite books on women in the Church, and
she blogs at SaraBarton.com. Sara and
her family have stayed connected with Ugandans since serving as missionaries,
and you can learn more about ongoing creative partnerships and sustainable
solutions in East Africa at  www.kibogroup.org.  

Enjoy this fantastic reflection on Mary and Joanna--women of valor! 

***

I did a double take as I
passed the collection basket.  Was that
an egg I saw wobbling about among the coins? As a missionary in Uganda, there
was little that surprised me after a while of living cross-culturally, but it
took me a moment to realize that the fresh, brown egg (there are ways of
deducing that an unwashed egg is fresh) was indeed a purposeful offering. 

Later in the service, the
worship leader held the egg high above his head, and it was sold to the highest
bidder, bringing far more than an egg would cost at the local market.  The egg-giver, a widow who sees less than
$100 go in and out of her household in a year, had no coins for the collection,
so she brought what God had given her that very morning.  And instead of shaming her poverty, the
church called attention to her generosity, and worship turned into a bidding
war for her gift.  All three of her teeth
gleamed as she laughed and clapped over the hoopla her gift had created.  Eventually, I would bid for eggs myself, and
mangos, and papayas.  Folks brought what
they had – and God was glorified.  I
often heard Jesus whispering the words from Luke 21 in my ear:

 “Truly I tell
you,” he said, “this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All
these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty
put in all she had to live on.”

I wrote about the egg
experience in our missionary newsletter, and the next time I was home on
furlough, I was reminded that sometimes people actually read the
newsletter.  I was visiting a friend of
mine, a well-to-do widow with a gorgeous home and a beautiful smile, and she
told me that the story of the widow’s egg had so deeply touched her that she
used it as a daily reminder of the importance of generosity. In response to my
egg story, she had purchased a beautiful decorative egg and placed it on her
nightstand, right beside her Bible. 

She rushed to her bedroom
and came back to show me this thing, this
elaborate egg with flowery golden designs perched upon a matching bejeweled
stand.  My first reaction was judgment, a
sentiment that often flowed freely through my veins on furlough trips to
opulent America.  That egg probably cost
as much as the real egg-giver saw in an entire year, said my inner voice, as I
faked a smile. 

Luke’s Gospel backs me up
here.  With his theme of a great
reversal, Luke teaches that “the rich” (1:53; 4:18; 6:20-24; 7:22, 14:13, 21;
16:19-31) already have their comfort, and because of it, they miss recognizing
the Son of God when he’s right there in front of them.  So, with a reversal of what’s expected in
this world, the brightly-scrubbed and well-dressed are rejected. The poor,
however, those who have no worldly comfort or prestige, accept Jesus and are accepted
in return.  Jesus explicitly teaches the
great reversal when he says, “Blessed are you who are poor, and woe to you who
are rich.” 

Mary perhaps best epitomizes
this reversal.  An adolescent from
nowhere-Nazareth, with zero social capital in her patriarchal world, is lifted
up to receive and proclaim the great reversal. The way of God, she sings, is to
fill hungry people with good things while the rich are sent away empty. The way
of God, she sings, is to dethrone powerful rulers and empower humble servants.

Luke parades great reversals
through his Gospel and Acts, as those who are often in last place - the blind
and deaf, the lame, the sexually mutilated, Samaritans, Gentiles, sinners,
children, and women are given first-place status in Jesus’ upside-down, reversed
kingdom.

Luke’s reversal is
clear:  God exalts the poor and humbles
the rich.

But then, into Luke’s story walks
a rich woman and her symbolic fancy egg. 
Apparently, Luke likes this great reversal thing so much that just when
we think we have it down, he forces our hearts to do it again. 

Joanna, a woman mentioned in
the Gospels, isn’t one of those leading lady characters from Scripture, like Rachel
or Sarah.  Luke makes two short
references to her in chapters 8 and 24, but both brief references notably place
her square in the middle of Jesus’ ministry.

I find Joanna terribly
intriguing.  Let’s get her story straight
(See Luke 8:1-4 and Luke 24): 

Joanna, wife of Chuza, is
healed of evil spirits and/or disease. Chuza is Herod’s household manager
(today we might call him a CFO), a position with high responsibility and good
pay. This Herod may have been the same sly fox who ordered the death of John
the Baptist. Managing his household would have
been lucrative, so Joanna was a well-to-do woman who could have returned to a
life of leisure after her healing. 

Instead, she joined the
ragtag group traveling with Jesus and the Twelve, witnessing first-hand his
proclamation of the good news of the Kingdom of God.  Not only did Joanna witness his ministry, she
financially supported Jesus out of her own means.  Eventually, courageously following Jesus out
of Galilee to Jerusalem, Joanna was one of the first people entrusted with the
message that Jesus was not dead but miraculously alive! And with the other
witnesses to Jesus’ resurrection, she waited in Jerusalem to receive the gift
of the Holy Spirit. 

It only takes a couple brief
verses to determine that Joanna had
chutzpah.  She left a life of ease
and generously gave her resources to an itinerant preacher who taught her about
loving the poor and outcast. When Jesus was arrested, sentenced to death for
treason, and killed through violent capital punishment, Joanna could have
quietly slipped back home.

But she did not leave Jesus.
She did not turn away.  She prepared
spices for his dead body instead, and she went to his tomb while his male
followers were in hiding. 

She was a woman of
valor. 

A rich woman of valor. 

Luke and his great
reversals:  Jesus, Luke illustrates,
makes it frustratingly difficult to label people.  Just when you think you’ve determined who’s
in and who’s out, Jesus calls a rich tax collector, Levi, to join his inner
group, or he invites himself to dine at the home of Zachaeus, whose riches came
through deceit and fraud.

As we deeply contemplate the
great reversal in Luke, a rich woman, Joanna, forces us to widen our definition
of Jesus’ teaching about “the rich” and “the poor.” 

Jesus calls us to enter a
topsy-turvy world in which the heart is examined for poverty and wealth, not
just the pocketbook.

So, a proper understanding
of Luke’s great reversal condemns me for sitting on my missionary judgment seat
about the golden egg.  It chastises me
for resting in the comfort of my missionary sacrifice when there’s no doubt I’m
a rich, privileged, educated American who must constantly allow God to take my
comfort and redefine it. 

May we simultaneously remember
both Mary’s poverty and Joanna’s wealth. 
May we remain open to the surprise and newness that come when we
redefine our preconceptions of people according to the topsy-turvy Kingdom of
God.

Do Christians idolize virginity?

Several recent posts from some of favorite bloggers raise
this question in powerful ways. I thought today would be a good day to share
them, as we continue our series on Sexuality & The Church.

The first is from Elizabeth Esther, who writes:

“It took me a long
time to realize I idolized virginity. I kept saying I was just promoting virtue
and chastity and purity! Nothing wrong with pushing purity, right? Nothing
wrong with Being Good!

Like other
Christians, I talked about the “sacrifice” of abstinence. There were
princess-themed books about saving our first kiss. Some of us wore purity
rings and made pledges to our Daddies not to have sex until we’re married. Ultimately, we implied that a woman’s inherent worth and dignity
could be measured by whether or not a man has touched her.

I understand why we do this. Christians are alarmed by what we
see as a sexually permissive society. America no longer seems to share our
values. This scares us. The less sacred sex
seems to the broader culture, the more sacred we
insist on making it among fellow Christians.

The intention might be good but over-emphasizing the specialness
of virginity has unintended, harmful consequences.

We start by making ridiculous promises to our daughters. We tell
them that “sexual purity” is a guarantor of a more intimate married sex life.
We tell them that if they “lose” their purity, they will never really get it
back. Oh, yes. They can be forgiven. But. You know. They’re damaged
goods.

Christians say that the world objectifies women through immodest
dress and a permissive sexual ethic. However, by idolizing sexual purity and
preoccupying ourselves with female modesty and an emphasis on hyper-purity,
Christians actually engage in reverse objectivization. 

Yes, we Christians say, we believe in the inherent dignity of all
human life. But we especially   believe in it if that human life is virginal,
wears a purity ring and bleeds on her wedding night.

This is harmful and,
dare I say, idolatrous. Read the full post.

The second comes from the always-brilliant Sarah Bessey, who
wrote a post for A Deeper Story entitled “I Am Damaged Goods”:

Over the years the
messages melded together into the common refrain: “Sarah, your virginity was a
gift and you gave it away. You threw away your virtue for a moment of pleasure.
You have twisted God’s ideal of sex and love and marriage. You will never be
free of your former partners, the boys of your past will haunt your marriage
like soul-ties. Your virginity belonged to your future husband. You stole
from him. If – if! – you ever get married, you’ll have tremendous baggage
to overcome in your marriage, you’ve ruined everything. No one honourable or
godly wants to marry you. You are damaged goods, Sarah.”

If true love waits, I heard, then I have been disqualified from
true love.

In the face of our
sexually-dysfunctional culture, the Church longs to stand as an outpost of
God’s ways of love and marriage, purity and wholeness.

And yet we twist that until we treat someone like me – and, according to this research, 80% of you
are like me –  as if our value and worth was tied up in our virginity.

We, the majority
non-virgins in the myopic purity conversations,  feel like the dirty
little secret, the not-as-goods, the easily judged example.  In this
clouded swirl of shame, our sexual choices are the barometer of our
righteousness and worth. We can’t let any one know, so we keep it quiet, lest
any one discover we were not virgins on some mythic wedding night. We
don’t want to be the object of disgust or pity or gossip or judgment. And in the
silence, our shame – and the lies of the enemy – grow.

She concludes:

No matter what that preacher said that day, no matter how many
purity balls are thrown with sparkling upper-middle-class extravagance, no
matter the purity rings and the purity pledges, no matter the judgemental
Gospel-negating rhetoric used with the best of intentions, no matter the “how
close is too close?” serious conversations of boundary-marking young
Christians, no matter the circumstances of your story, you
are not disqualified from life or from joy or from marriage or
from your calling or from a healthy and wonderful lifetime of sex because you
had – and, heaven forbid, enjoyed –
sex before you were married.

Darling, young one
burning with shame and hiding in the silence, listen now: Don’t believe that
lie. You never were, you never will be, damaged goods.

A-freakin’-men is
all I have to say to that. You really must read the entire post.

Similarly, Carolyn
Custis James recently wrote a piece for the Huffington Post entitled “Why
Virginity is Not the Gospel,” to which Dianna Anderson added a helpful
critique.

I wrote about my experience with "True Love Waits" in A Year of Biblical Womanhood. As you will notice, this is the context in which the infamous v-word appears! 

I signed my first abstinence pledge when I was just fifteen. I’d been invited by some friends to a fall youth rally at the First Baptist Church, and in the fellowship hall one night, the youth leader passed around neon blue and pink postcards that included a form letter to God promising to remain sexually abstinent until marriage. We had only a few minutes to add our signatures, and all my friends were signing theirs, so I used the back of my metal chair to scribble my name across the dotted line before marching to the front of the room to pin my promise to God and my vagina onto a giant corkboard for all to see. The youth leader said he planned to hang the corkboard in the hallway outside the sanctuary so that parents could marvel at the seventy-five abstinence pledges he’d collected that night. It was a pretty cheap way to treat both our bodies and God, come to think of it. Studies suggest that only about 12 percent of us kept our promise.

I have a feeling
this is going to be a hot topic in the months and years to come, and we will be
discussing it at length as part of series, though later in the year. 

What do you think?
Does the Christian culture idolize virginity? How should our narratives surrounding sex, virginity, and purity change, particularly as they concern women? 

Torn, Chapters 7-11: Internalizing the Culture War

As part of our series
on sexuality and the Church, today we continue our discussion around Torn: Rescuing the Gospel from the Gays-vs.-Christians
Debate by
Justin Lee.

This week, we’re
talking about Chapters 7-11, in which Justin describes how Christians responded
to his sexuality and how

Chapter 7 – “That The
Man Should Be Alone”

After his experience
with ex-gay ministries, (which we discussed last week), Justin had to confront
the reality that he would likely never become straight. This left him with
three options, as he saw it: the first was to hide his same-sex attraction and
marry a woman in spite of his lack of attraction to her, which he felt would be
unfair to both himself and the woman in such a relationship; the second was to
pursue a relationship with another guy, which he had trouble reconciling with
what he’d been taught regarding the Bible’s teachings on homosexuality; and the
third option was to remain celibate, which left Justin with the prospect of
being alone for the rest of his life.

“I don’t have the
words to convey how much this questions weighed on me,” writes Justin. “I knew
I couldn’t continue calling myself a Christian unless I was willing to accept
whatever God had planned for me, even if it was a lie of loneliness…After
agonizing over the decision I knew I had to make, I finally reached the
inescapable conclusion: I had to follow God, whatever that might mean. I knelt
down in my bedroom and I made a promise to God… Dear God, I prayed, I don’t
want to be celibate. I don’t want to be alone. I want to fall in love with
someone and spend my life with that person. But even more than that, I want to
serve You. And if Your will is for me to celibate my entire life, I will do it.
Please show me what You want for my life, and help me to do Your will, whatever
it is.” (p. 104)

Justin says this
moment marked a turning point in his journey. He felt a wave of peace rush over
him. He didn’t have any answers right away, but he knew that “whatever the
future might hold, I was committed to endure whatever God called me to. And God
was going to be with me.” (p. 105)

Chapter 8 – “South
Park Christians”

Justin knew that God
would be faithful to him, but the Church, he said, was another story.

Recalling an episode
in “South Park” in which Stan discovers his dog Sparky is gay and responds by
simply shouting “Don’t be gay!” again and again at the poor dog, Justin says
that most of the Christians in his life were “South Park” Christians who responded
to his agonizing questions about his future with a flippant, “Don’t be gay!”

“The Christians I knew
typically assumed it was all a matter of choice, so admitting the truth about
my feelings only subjected me to ostracism, misunderstandings, and the brand of
‘unrepentant sinner,’” he recalls.

When Justin told one
of his pastors that he didn’t think the ex-gay ministries could make him
straight, the pastor told him that as long as Justin remained celibate, he was
welcome to continue worshipping with the congregation, but that if Justin
entered a same-sex relationship, he would be asked to leave. Justin had never
even considered that he might be kicked out of the congregation, so his
pastor’s words stung. The pastor then encouraged him to return to the ex-gay
ministries.

One of Justin’s friend
contacted Focus on the Family on Justin’s behalf; another bought him porn,
hoping it would make him straight; still others questioned Justin’s commitment
to his faith, and many approached him with contention, eager to debate the
Bible with him.

When Justin became
involved with a campus ministry, the reactions among his classmates were
largely the same. When Justin shared his struggle, they were kind, but tended
to turn every conversation into a debate over Scripture and homosexuality. One
girl even asked Justin to “leave his agenda at home,” and respect the group’s
views on homosexuality. “My agenda?” Justin thought. “No one had ever accused
me of having an ‘agenda’ before. The only ‘agenda’ I knew I had was my day
planner…”

Time and again, the message
Justin received from the Christians in his life was simply, “Don’t be gay!”

Chapter 9 – “The
Poisoned Yeast”

Still, Justin loved
his evangelical brothers and sisters, knowing them to be good, generous people
who were passionate about the gospel and eager to do the right thing.  The reason these good people responded to him
so inappropriately was because of misinformation, he says.

Justin recalls a
frustrating conversation with an evangelical leader named Mark who tried to
convince Justin that his homosexuality must be the result of faulty parenting,
or some sort of childhood trauma, because there was no concrete scientific
“proof” that biology contributed to same-sex attraction. When Justin noted that
there was no scientific evidence to support the theory that homosexuality was
the result of bad parenting, Mark had no idea how to respond. Mark went on to
suggest that perhaps Justin was gay because he was raised Southern Baptist and
not given opportunities for artistic expression which created a form of
defensive detachment! Justin had to stifle a laugh. Mark then continued to
posit that Justin must be gay because his alopecia areata (a hereditary
condition that makes Justin lose his hair) gave him a “traumatic” childhood.
But Justin insisted that, in spite of some teasing here and there, he had a
happy childhood.  But the guy wouldn’t
give up! He was determined to point to a trauma that had made Justin gay and
that could be fixed with therapy.

“It didn’t really
matter to me what Mark thought of me,” Justin writes. “I would likely never see
him again…It was Mark’s influence that bothered me. No matter what I said, Mark
was going to keep going to groups like this one and telling thousands upon
thousands of Christians that being gay was caused by faulty parenting, that it
only led to misery, and that anyone who wanted to become straight could…And
they would pass those beliefs on to their children and other Christians, who
would act upon that misinformation whenever they encountered gay people.” (133)

“A little bit of
misinformation, like yeast or poison, can work its way through the entire
church,” Justin writes. “contaminating an important force for good in the world
and turning it into something doing damage. With the church contaminated by
misinformation, people feel that they have two choices: either accept the
church and the misinformation along with it, or reject the whole thing.” (134)

Justin determines to participate in a third option: fighting the misinformation.

Chapter 10 – “Faith
Assassins”

In this chapter,
Justin discusses with refreshing charity the ways in which the reputation of
Christianity, particularly evangelical Christianity, is damaged by this misinformation
and by a preoccupation with waging culture wars against the LGBT community.

“Well-intentioned
Christians, believing that being gay is a sinful choice that can be easily
changed, speak and act accordingly,” he writes, “recommending ex-gay ministries
and fighting against cultural acceptance of homosexuality. To those who know
better, this comes across as hurtful and unkind.” (p. 139)

This I something we
have discussed at length here on the blog in the past, (see "How to Win a Culture War and Lose a Generation") so I won’t spend much
more time on it here. Justin does a fantastic job addressing it in the book, which I recommend reading in its entirety.

At the end of this chapter, he laments over
the divide between Christians who advocate “God’s Truth” on one hand and “Love”
on the other when “in the Bible, Truth and Love are two sides of the same coin.
You can’t have one without the other. God’s Truth is all about God’s Love for
us and the Love we ought to have for one another. We are being untrue to that
Truth if we treat people unlovingly. And we are missing out on the full extent
of that Love if we try to divorce it from Ultimate Truth…We Christians must
work to repair this schism in the church. If the church is to survive much
longer in our culture, it must teach and model the Christianity of Jesus—a
faith that combines Truth and Love in the person of Jesus Christ, revealed to
us in the Bible and lived out in the everyday lives of his followers.” (p. 147)

Chapter 11 – “The
Other Side”

On the other hand,
Justin found himself struggling to fit in with other gay people. When some of his gay
friends convinced him to visit a gay club, he felt totally out-of-place. Even
many of the gay Christians he knew seemed uninterested in engaging what the
Bible said about sexuality, which Justin was eager to do. Others, angered by
their experience with the Church, left the faith altogether. 

Justin joined a LGBT
club on his campus and begins taking more leadership in it. What he discovered
as he got to know more gay people was this:  “The one big thing the gays and the Christians
had in common was that they both believed in a Gays-vs.-Christians cultural
dynamic. They might not all phrase it that way, and some might limit their
antipathy to a particular subset of the other group—evangelicals, say, instead
of all Christians—but at the end of the day, belief in this dichotomy was so
strong on both sides that even those of us who should have known better, the
gay Christians, had bought into it.” (p. 156)

This created a false
dichotomy that forced many of Justin’s friends into a horrible choice: “Would
you be a good person, or ben an honest person? Deny what you believe about God,
or deny what you know about yourself? Condemn yourself to a lifetime of faking
it, or condemn yourself to an eternity in hell?”

Justin hits the nail
on the head with this:

“It wasn’t that there weren’t any gay Christians to
begin with. It was that in a Gays-vs.-Christians culture, everyone had to pick
a side.” (p. 157)

Feeling torn, Justin
fell into a deep depression.

“During the day, I
daydreamed about ways to kill myself,” he recalls. “I didn’t really want to
die, but I couldn’t see any future in this world where I could possibly be
happy. I felt like I was staying alive out of obligation to God,  not because I had anything at all to live
for.”

Justin finally goes to see a counselor. In therapy, he realized this: “My
depression wasn’t about a chemical imbalance. It wasn’t even really about my
loneliness. Without realizing it, I had internalized the culture war, and it
was tearing me apart inside. I couldn’t deny my faith, I couldn’t deny the
truth about myself, and I couldn’t keep living two separate lives.”

His story picks up in
the next Chapter 12, which we will discuss next week, along with Justin’s
thoughts on what the Bible says about homosexuality.

Questions for
Discussion…1. What sort of misinformation regarding homosexuality have you encountered in the Church? 2. For LGBT folks (and friends & family): What sort of experiences have you had with Christians—good, bad, and ugly? Can you relate to Justin’s experience of “internalizing the culture wars”? 

As usual, I’ll keep a
close eye on the comment section after this post. I’ll have to close the thread
after 24 hours, just because it becomes too much to monitor, especially when I’m
travelling. Thanks so much for understanding!

Sunday…er, Saturday Superlatives 1/26/13

http://xkcd.com/1157/

I’m headed to Blacksburg, Virginia this weekend to
hang out with the good folks at Blacksburg United Methodist Church and the
Wesley Foundation at Virginia Tech. I don’t have a lot of time, so below are
just a few superlatives for the week. Enjoy!

Around the Blogosphere…

Best Photo:
Newly Engaged Couple Has Hilarious Photobombed Proposal
Picture”

Best Video:
“Men Try Machine That Creates Sensation of Labor” 

Best Question:

Tsh Oxenreider with “Are you being brave?”

“I need to you to pause a second. Stop reading, and just
think about one of the bravest moments in your life. Call to mind the story and
how you felt.”

Best Analysis:

Ed Stetzer with “Empowered Non-Staff Leadership Marks Church Planting Movements
Around the World”

“The clergy-laity caste system we have created has significantly bottled up the
exponential potential of the church in the West. The healthy and growing parts
of the global church are looking at Scripture, acknowledging the responsibility
of every Christ-follower to be and make disciples, and opening up the floodgate
of disciple-makers by equipping every person to be about that business. We must
learn from them and do the same."

Best Conversation-Starter:
Zack Hunt with “The Changing Face of the Christian Faith” 

“To put it simply, the notion of Christian autonomy that
pervades so much of the church today isn’t Biblical. It’s American. Worse yet,
it’s antithetical to the fundamental ideas of Christianity: one Lord, one
faith, one baptism.”

Best
Point:
Peter
Enns with “The Deeper Scandal of the Evangelical Mind: We Are Not Allowed to
Use It”

"The scandal of the Evangelical mind is that
doctrine determines academic conclusions.”

Best Series:
 “Equally Yoked: Stories of Mutual Marriages” at Jenny Rae Armstrong's blog

“We have no business using pagan models of
top-down authority in our life together as Christians”

Best Reflection:
Laura Cavanaugh with “On Obeying the Traffic Signs"

“In The Way of the Heart, Henri Nouwen talks about the phrase, Peregrinatio est tacere:to be silent keeps us pilgrims.  Ironic that just at the time that I am finding my voice and learning to use it, I am also learning the value of silence in my own life as well as the value of my own silence in the lives of others.  Silence keeps us moving down the path, keeps us walking toward God.  In silence we learn the value of our words; we learn wisdom; we learn purification of the heart.  To walk this path, the path toward God, we must be silent.”

Wisest:
Emily Heath with “Mark Driscoll, Barack Obama, and the
Jealous Disciples”

“Mark Driscoll may be concerned that President
Obama is not following his particular view of Christianity. But Christian faith
has never had much to do with following the opinions of the popular crowd, and
a best selling book has never granted the author the power to discern the
legitimacy of another's faith. In the end, the only two authorities on Barack
Obama's relationship with God are Barack Obama and G od. I'm not either of the
two. And so that's where the discussion ends.”

Eeriest:

The Atlantic with “Chicago’s Freezing Fire”

Funniest:

“’Inigo Montoya Shirt Upsets Travelers, Leads to Awkward Flight”

Boldest:
Sarah Bessey with “In which we numb the light”

“For me, joy and calling and goodness and
purpose arrived hand-in-hand with social justice and suffering and
vulnerability.”

Most Helpful:
Relevant with “The Relevant Guide to Telling Indie Folk
Bands Apart”

“Mumford
& Sons: Check the volume. If the song starts off so quiet you can barely
hear it and then ends up breaking your speakers, you’re listening to Mumford."

Most Honest:
Brenna (at Grace Biskie's blog) with "When God Stops Answering Your Prayers"

"I remember when I used to pray. My hands would shake, my jaw would tremble, and I felt the Spirit guide me. I saw hearts healed. Spirits comforted. Bodies made whole.  The only thing that felt bigger than my faith was my God. It was the days of God being glorified and knowing that things would work out for our good. It was bold requests. Swift answers. God speaking. And then it was silent."

Most Relatable:
XKCD with "Sick Day"

Most Likely To Earn A Superlative for Mentioning Superlatives:
When In Comment Sections with "When Rachel Held Evans..."

On
the Blog…

Most
Popular Post:
“The
Scandal of the Evangelical Heart”

Most
Popular Comment:
In
response to “The Scandal of the Evangelical Heart,” Sarah Bessey wrote:

“AMEN. I could stand on my chair and holler but I'd wake the
baby. Jesus became the centre of my faith precisely BECAUSE of my doubts. When
I was disgusted with those same things, I looked to him, got down on my
haunches and stayed there.

I read everything else in the Bible now through the lens of
Jesus, not the other way around. He's the incarnate and so that's my home.

I feel like I have some Big
Thoughts on the genocides of the OT and many other things there but I don't
know how to articulate them just yet (without generating a hailstorm of heresy
accusations) so I'll keep sitting in my tensions. I just like to sit with my
head resting on Jesus while I figure it out.

There is no cruelty, no evil, no injustice, in my God or in his
kingdom. That much I know.”

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