Rachel Held Evans's Blog, page 50
January 25, 2013
Love: You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.
[Trigger warning: abuse, rape]
Yesterday’s post seems to have struck a nerve, so I’m having a hard time keeping up with all the comments rolling in. But one commenter, Kat R., made an important point that I don’t want us to overlook.
Responding to the kind of theology that suggests hurricanes and earthquakes and school shootings happen because an angry God has lost his temper and is unleashing his wrath and discipline on people whose sin nature makes them incapable of understanding such actions as loving, Kat R. writes:
“…When Christians are told that God is love, but that "love" looks and feels like the opposite of what we know love to be (it's angry, it's emotionally unstable, it's violent), it's not a far journey to make for some leaders in churches to ALSO claim that their angry, unstable, and violent actions are "loving". This is how abuse happens.”
Kat is right. I’ve seen this play out time and again—not only in church situations, but also in marriages and homes. When love is stripped of its most basic meaning for the purposes of theological accommodation (“your childhood abuse/ cancer/ rape/ poverty is just God’s loving discipline in your life”), love loses all meaning whatsoever and becomes totally relativized.
I’ve heard some theologians explain it like this: God is like a father, disciplining his children. Children don’t always realize that a parent’s rules and enforcements are for their own good. Similarly, God’s “discipline” (which they associate with natural disasters, violence, tragedy, rape, abuse, etc.) may not make sense to us now, but it’s part of God’s good plan.
This metaphor makes sense at first blush, but it’s one thing to say that a parent may send a child to the corner for the purpose of loving discipline, quite another to say that a parent may rape and abuse a child for the purpose of loving discipline. When we cast God as an angry and abusive father whose actions we don’t understand as loving because our sinful minds are incapable of grasping true love, and when we say the logic of this paradigm should trump our intuitive revulsion to it, we’re veering into "orthodox alexithymia" territory fast.
Eric Fry added this:
If "God is Love" is something that cannot be fathomed by our emotional understanding of love, then that verse has little meaning outside of any context people wish to place upon it. And placing a context upon 'love' that lies outside of our emotional understanding diminishes Christ's loving sacrifice…. Our deep appreciation and gratitude for that sacrifice can come only out of our own emotional understanding of love. The 'change of heart' of repentance can be only a shallow thing if it comes solely from our intellect.”
And Captivated Photo said:
“I always think of the 1 Cor 13 "The Love Chapter" as a chapter explaining Love or God as love to us. I replace the word Love with God and therefore begin to understand that God is patient. God is kind. God is not easily angered...etc. It's simplistic but it helps remind me who God is and how Love really looks.”
I like that.
So what is love?It’s exactly what we know it to be.
Love is patient.
Love is kind.
Love does not envy.
Love does not boast.
Love is not proud.
Love does not dishonor others.
Love is not self-seeking.
Love is not easily angered.
Love keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
January 24, 2013
The Scandal of the Evangelical Heart
“It’s right for God to
slaughter women and children anytime he pleases.
God gives life and he takes
life.
Everybody who dies, dies because God wills that they die.”
– John Piper
“Belief in a cruel God makes a cruel man.”
– Thomas Paine
It’s strange to think that doubt has been a part of my life
for more than ten years now.
I remember when it first showed up—a dark grotesque with a
terrifying smile that took up so much space, catching every payer in its
gravitational pull. That I could grow accustomed to its presence seemed
impossible at the time, and yet I have. It hasn’t changed in size, but somehow it occupies
less space. I smile back at it now.
A lot of people, when they catch pieces of my story, assume
my doubts are of the intellectual variety. They assume I’m just a smart girl
stuck in the Bible Belt asking pesky questions about science, history and
politics that my conservative evangelical culture, with a bent toward
anti-intellectualism, simply cannot answer.
This is true to an extent. I’ve wrestled with a lot of
questions related to science and faith, especially given my location a mere two
miles from the famous Rhea County Courthouse where John Scopes was prosecuted
for teaching evolution in a public school.
While I no longer believe the earth is just 6,000 years old, I still
live in the tension of unanswered questions about the universe, and death, and brains,
and Neanderthals, and whatever Neil degGasse Tyson’s got to say on public
television about the earth getting burned up by the sun or our species going
extinct after an asteroid hits. I have
questions too about history and Christianity’s emergence from it, questions
about the Bible, questions about miracles.
past ten years have been questions not of the mind but of the heart, questions
of conscience and empathy. It was not the so-called “scandal of the evangelical
mind” that rocked my faith; it was the scandal of the evangelical heart.
If you’ve read Evolving in Monkey Town, you know that the
public execution of a woman named Zarmina in Afghanistan marked a turning point
in my faith journey. The injustice of the situation was troublesome enough, but
when my friends insisted that Zarmina went to hell because she was a Muslim, I
began wrestling with some serious questions about heaven, hell, predestination,
free will, God’s goodness, and religious pluralism.
Evangelical apologists were quick to respond. And while
their answers made enough sense it my head; they never sat right with my soul.
Why would God fashion a person in her mother’ s womb, number
the hairs on her head, and then leave her without any hope of salvation? Can
salvation be boiled down to luck of the draw? How is that just? Shouldn’t God be more loving and compassionate than I?
Oh, the Calvinists could make perfect sense of it all with a
wave of a hand and a swift, confident explanation about how Zarmina had been
born in sin and likely predestined to spend eternity in hell to the glory of an
angry God (they called her a “vessel of destruction”); about how I should just
be thankful to be spared the same fate since it’s what I deserve anyway; about
how the Asian tsunami was just another one of God’s temper tantrums sent to
remind us all of His rage at our sin; about how I need not worry because “there
is not one maverick molecule in the universe” so every hurricane, every
earthquake, every war, every execution, every transaction in the slave trade, every
rape of a child is part of God’s sovereign plan, even God’s idea; about how my objections
to this paradigm represented unrepentant pride and a capitulation to humanism
that placed too much inherent value on my fellow human beings; about how my intuitive
sense of love and morality and right and wrong is so corrupted by my sin nature
I cannot trust it.
They said all of this without so much of a glimmer of a
tear, and it scared me to death. It nearly
scared me out of the Church.
For what makes the Church any different from a cult if it
demands we sacrifice our conscience in exchange for unquestioned allegiance to
authority? What sort of God would call
himself love and then ask that I betray everything I know in my bones to be
love in order to worship him? Did following Jesus mean becoming some shadow of
myself, drained of empathy and compassion and revulsion to injustice?
Perhaps in reaction to the “scandal of the evangelical
mind,” evangelicalism of late has developed a general distrust of emotion when
it comes to theology. So long as an idea seems logical, so long as it fits
consistently with the favored theological paradigm, it seems to matter not
whether it is morally reprehensible at an intuitive level. I suspect this is
why this new breed of rigid Calvinism that follows the “five points” to their
most logical conclusion, without regard to the moral implications of them, has
flourished in the past twenty years. (I
heard a theology professor explain the other day that he had no problem
whatsoever with God orchestrating evil acts to accomplish God’s will, for that
is what is required for God to be fully sovereign! When asked if this does not
make God something of a monster, he responded that it didn’t matter; God is
God—end of story.) And I suspect this explains why, in the wake of the Sandy
Hook tragedy, so many evangelical leaders responded like Job’s friends, eager
to offer theological explanations for what happened instead of simply sitting
down in the ashes and weeping with their brothers and sisters.
Richard Beck has also observed this phenomenon and refers to
it as “orthodox alexithymia”:
When theology and doctrine become separated
from emotion we end up with something dysfunctional and even monstrous.
A theology or doctrinal system that has become
decoupled from emotion is going to look emotionally stunted and even
inhuman. What I'm describing here might
be captured by the tag "orthodox alexithymia." By
"orthodox" I mean the intellectual pursuit of right belief. And by
"alexithymia" I mean someone who is, theologically speaking,
emotionally and socially deaf and dumb. Even theologically sociopathic.
Alexithymia--etymologically "without words
for emotions"--is a symptom characteristic of individuals who have
difficulty understanding their own and others' emotions. You can think of
alexithymia as being the opposite of what is called emotional intelligence.
Orthodox alexithymia is produced when the
intellectual facets of Christian theology, in the pursuit of correct and right
belief, become decoupled from emotion, empathy, and fellow-feeling. Orthodox
alexithymics are like patients with ventromedial prefrontal cortex brain
damage. Their reasoning may be sophisticated and internally consistent but it
is disconnected from human emotion. And without Christ-shaped caring to guide
the chain of calculation we wind up with the theological equivalent of
preferring to scratch a doctrinal finger over preventing destruction of the
whole world. Logically and doctrinally such preferences can be justified. They
are not "contrary to reason." But they are inhuman and monstrous.
Emotion, not reason, is what has gone missing. Read the entire post.
I encountered this recently after I spoke to a group of
youth about doubt. In the presentation, I mentioned that upon reading the story
of Joshua and the Battle of Jericho for myself, I realized it was a story about
genocide, with God commanding Joshua to kill every man, woman, and child in the
city for the sole purpose of acquiring land. I explained that this seemed
contrary to what Jesus taught about loving our enemies.
Afterwards, a youth leader informed me that when it came to
Joshua and Jericho, I had nothing to worry about…and had no business getting
his students worried either.
“I don’t know why you had to bring up the Jericho thing,” he
said.
“Doesn’t that story bother you?” I asked. “Don’t you find
the slaughter of men, women, and children horrific?”
“Not if it’s in the Bible.”
“Genocide doesn’t bother you if it’s in the Bible?”
“Nope.”
He crossed his arms and a self-satisfied smile spread across
his face. He was proud of his detachment, I realized. He seemed to think it
represented some kind of spiritual strength.
“But genocide always bothers me,” I finally said, “especially
when it’s in the Bible. And I get the idea that maybe it’s supposed to. I get
the idea that maybe God created me to be bothered by evil like that, even when
it’s said to have been orchestrated by God.”
I’m not sure he and I will ever understand one another, but
I’ve decided to quit apologizing for my questions. It’s not enough for me maintain my
intellectual integrity as a Christian; I also want to maintain my emotional
integrity as a Christian. And I don’t need answers to all of my questions to do
that. I need only the courage to be honest about my questions and doubts, and
the patience to keep exploring and trusting in spite of them.
follow Jesus with both my head and heart engaged—no checking out, no
pretending.
It’s a decision I make every day, and it’s a decision that’s made
my faith journey a heck of a lot more hazardous and a heck of a lot more
fun. It means that grinning monster, doubt,
is likely to stick around for a while, for I know now that closing my eyes
won’t make him go away. It means each day is a risk, a gamble, an adventure in
vulnerability and trust, as I figure out what it means to follow Jesus as me,
Rachel Grace—the girl who cried for Zarmina, the girl who inherited her mama’s
bleeding heart and her daddy’s stubborn grace, the girl who digs in her heels, the
girl who makes mistakes, the girl who is intent on breaking up patriarchy, the
girl who thought to raise her hand in Sunday school at age five and ask why God
would drown innocent animals in Noah’s flood, the girl who could be wrong.
It means I’ve got a long race ahead of me, but I’m going to
run it with abandon. I’m going to run it as me. Because I think that’s what God wants—all of me, surrendered
and transformed, head and heart engaged.
I’m growing more confident in my stride, and I am running
faster now, breathless, kicking up dust, tripping over roots and skinning my
knees, cursing now and then, but always getting up and gaining ground on that
bend in the path where I think I can see Jesus up ahead.
January 23, 2013
January 22, 2013
Torn, Chapters 5-6: On Reparative Therapy and Ex-Gay Ministries
Today we continue our
discussion around Justin Lee’s fantastic book, Torn: Rescuing the
Gospel from the Gays-vs.-Christians Debate as part of our series on sexuality and the
Church.
Last week we discussed
Chapters 1-4. This week, we’ll cover Chapters 5-6. (I’d originally planned to
cover chapters 5-10, but these two chapters are just too critical to breeze
through without a thorough discussion.) Next week we’ll cover Chapters 7-11,
before wrapping up a week later with Chapters 12-15. After that, we’ll move on to our next book, Washed
and Waiting by Wesley Hill.
Gay?”
In Chapter 5, Justin tackles
a huge question: Why are people gay?
The short answer, he says, is
“we don’t know.”
The long answer requires
unpacking what we mean by “gay” and exploring various theories as to why some
people are attracted to the same sex.
Justin believes it’s
important to define what we mean when we say “gay,” especially in light of his
(not-so-great) experiences with “ex-gay” ministries. “
“If one person believes that
‘gay’ means ‘someone who is attracted to the same sex’ and another person
believes that ‘gay’ means ‘someone who has sex with members of the same sex,’
then it shouldn’t surprise us when they come to two very different
conclusions!” he explains. (52)
Justin uses the word ‘gay’
the way it is usually used in our culture: to refer to people’s attractions,
not necessarily their behaviors. Typically, when we say someone is ‘gay,’ we
mean that he or she is attracted to the same sex. (By contrast, someone who is
“straight” is attracted to the opposite sex, someone who is “bisexual” is
attracted to both sexes, etc., etc.) “These words don’t tell us anything about
the person’s behaviors, beliefs, or plans for the future,” writes Justin, “they
only tell us to who the person is generally attracted…When I called myself
‘gay,’ I wasn’t referring to any kind of behavior in my life. I had never had
any kind of romantic relationship with a guy…” (p. 52)
So why is Justin, and others like him, gay?
Theory 1: People choose to begay
Growing up, Justin says he
firmly believed that people chose to be gay. Obviously, he changed his mind
when he found himself attracted to other men. “As a conservative Southern
Baptist kid, I would never have chosen to be gay,” he says. “Not in a million
years.”
“Most people discover when
they’re young that they are involuntarily attracted to people of the other
sex,” he says. “A minority of people, however, discover instead that they are
involuntarily attracted to the same sex, and an even smaller minority discover
they’re involuntarily attracted to both sexes. None of these people choose
their attractions; they can only choose how they will respond to them.” (p. 54)
or tricked into identifying as gay
You hear this one a lot in
evangelical circles—that if someone is gay, he or she must have been abused as
a child or seduced by someone of the same sex at an early age. While this
certainly happens (and the impact of childhood abuse on an adult’s relationship
with his or sexuality is complex), it is not the norm. “I wasn’t sexually abused,” Justin says, “and
studies show that the majority of gay people weren’t either.”
because of their parents
Sometimes called the
“reparative drive” model, this, in my opinion, is one of the most damaging,
heartbreaking lies circulating around the Church today.
As Justin explains, the idea
was first popularized in the early 1960s by a psychologist named Irving Bieber.
[Insert Justin Bieber joke here.] Riffing off of Freud, Bieber proposed that
gay men came from families “characterized by disturbed and psychopathic
interactions,” with severely detached fathers and possessive, overprotective mothers.
According to Bieber, it would be impossible for a boy to turn out gay if he had
a warm, loving relationship with his father. (Justin’s story is one of many
that reveal this theory to be faulty, as Justin had a close, loving
relationship with his father.)
When continued research and scientific evidence
failed to support Bieber’s ideas, the psychological community abandoned them.
However, in the early 1980s, Elizabeth Moberly, a Christian theologian and
psychologist, resurrected Bieber’s ideas and argued in Homosexuality: A New
Christian Ethic that parental relationships were the cause of homosexuality.
She theorized that if a child had a distant same-sex parent, he or she was left
with an emotional deficit. The child needed same-sex bonding that was never met
by the parent, and so as he or she grew, a subconscious drive would kick in to
try to repair that hole. A man was attracted to other men, she said, because
his father never met his emotional needs, and a woman was attracted to other
women because her mother didn’t meet her emotional needs. Despite having no
compelling research or evidence to support her claim, Moberly’s book was a huge
hit in Christian circles. It spawned the “reparative therapy” movement, which
sought to reverse same-sex attraction through intensive counseling, and has
been perpetuated in the work of Joseph Nicolosi who wrote in 1996 “You will
hear a shallowness in the voice of any homosexual who claims to love and
respect his father…” Yikes.
Justin was suspicious of this
theory from the get-go because his story simply didn’t fit. He had a fantastic
relationship with both of his parents. His father was always emotionally
available; his mother was not overbearing…and there is no “shallowness” in
Justin’s voice when he says so, believe me. Besides, Justin reasons, there are
plenty of people who grow up in horribly dysfunctional homes who turn out
straight!
“Distant fathers and overprotective mothers
are extremely common in American society,” Justin explains, “so this allows a
larger percentage of gay people to say, ‘Hey that sounds like me!’ But these
same dynamics are very widespread among straight Americans as well, and they
are not at all present for many gay Americans. If distant fathers and
overbearing others made people gay, there would be far more gay people in
American society than there are. Meanwhile, I should have been the straightest
guy in the world.”
Justin explains how damaging
this narrative can be later in the book.
because of their biology
This seems to be where the
current scientific evidence points, but as Justin explains, the jury is still
out. Justin points to evidence that suggests specific structures in gay men and
women’s brains may have developed in ways that are more typical for the
opposite sex, possibly due to differing hormone levels in the womb. He covers a
lot of ground in a short amount of space; rather than repeating it all here, I
suggest reading the book, or checking out Simon LeVay’s Gay, Straight, and the
Reason Why, from which Justin draws. As Justin concludes, “The biological
theories have the most evidence to support them right now, but even they have
lots of questions, and at this point, we can’t ‘prove’ anything. We can only
make educated guesses.”
I'm relatively new to this whole discussion, but from what I understand, many researches are beginning to see sexuality as existing on a continuum, with, (as one commenter has already put it), "multiple 'possible' causes of homosexuality, which are not mutually exclusive."
Chapter 6 – “Justin inExgayland”
As Justin enters college, he
decides to try ex-gay ministries—the kind whose Web sites promised “healing”
and “deliverance” from homosexuality, complete with testimonies from “ex-gay”
men and women that included pictures of them smiling with their families.
Justin and his parents spared no expense; they would do whatever it took to
“fix” his same-sex attraction.
At his first ex-gay
conference, Justin was moved by the worship service, thrilled to be among other
Christians wrestling with the same questions with which he wrestled. But his
excitement waned as the first keynote speaker focused almost exclusively on
political issues, charging the audience to fight the “gay agenda,” painting the
world, Justin says, “in simplistic ‘us’ vs. ‘them’ terms: We were the
Christians. They were the gays. They must be stopped at all costs.”
Other speakers, many of them
self-professed ex-gays, spoke of childhood traumas they believed had caused
them to be gay…stories Justin jut didn’t relate to. In a brochure at the
conference, Justin was shocked to see this:
Q: Is homosexuality preventable
in my child?
A: Absolutely. Show unconditional love for your child and ensure that he or she
has positive and healthy doses of love from both parents.
The unfounded theories of
Bieber and Moberly were alive and well at this conference, and Justin recalls
stories of parents weeping through sessions, convinced they had made their
children gay through bad parenting.
In one session, Justin
finally spoke up during the Q&A time and told the speaker, who had cited
Moberly in a session entitled “The Root Causes of Male Homosexuality”, that the
model of an absent father and overbearing mother just didn’t fit his
experience. After the session, the speaker tried to convince Justin that with
enough therapy, Justin would discover that his parents had indeed been
negligent. But at lunches and between
sessions, Justin kept encountering other gay Christians who said their parents
had been loving and available. “The people I kept meeting who didn’t fit the
pattern were largely ignored or shoehorned in,” reports Justin, “forced to
revisit their childhood memories over and over until they found some sort of
problem to blame everything on.”(p. 77)
Justin's disillusionment with
ex-gay ministries grew even more pronounced when he realized that these
ministries were using the word “gay” differently than most people used it.
“When I first heard the
testimonies of people who said they ‘used to be gay’ but weren’t anymore, I
interpreted that to mean they used to be attracted to the same sex, and now
they weren’t…That turned out not to be true.” (p. 79)
As Justin investigated these testimonies further, he learned that most followed
a pattern in which the gay man developed attractions to men during puberty,
acted on those feelings at some point (usually destructively, with anonymous
sex, drugs, and other addictions), found that life to be unfulfilling,
reconnected with Jesus, and walked away from their past behaviors. While Justin
found these testimonies to be powerful reminders of how God changes lives, he
noticed ”there was one thing missing in all of their testimonies.” “None of them seemed to be becoming
straight,” he observed. “They had changed their behaviors, sometimes in
dramatic ways. Some had not had any sexual contact in years. Others had gone so
far as to date and marry a member of the opposite sex. But almost universally,
when I asked, they confessed that they still had the same kind of same-sex
attractions I did.” (p. 80)
“In ex-gay circles,” Justin learned.
“The word ‘gay’ didn’t mean ‘attracted to the same sex.’…Instead of using ‘gay’
to mean ‘attracted to the same sex,’ they redefined it to refer to sexual
behaviors they were no longer engaging in or a loosely defined cultural
‘identity’ they didn’t accept.” (81)
“I could understand that they
didn’t want to identify with their former way of life,” writes Justin. ”In
their minds, ‘gay’ encompassed a whole sinful and self-destructive lifestyle.
But by giving public testimony that they weren’t ‘gay’ anymore, they were
leading millions of Christians to believe that they had become straight, when
that wasn’t true. And those misleading testimonies were getting a lot of
attention on Christian radio, in Christian magazines, and in churches around
the world.” (p. 81)
“For all the ex-gay talk of
this journey toward becoming straight,” says Justin, “no one ever seemed to
actually get there.”
Wow.
Justin then shares the
stories of people like his friend Terry, who followed the example of the ex-gay
testimonies and tried to marry a woman to see if it would make him straight. It
didn’t. Terry’s entire family—his wife, his kids—fell apart when the truth came
out. And his friend James, who went through the same process, married a girl
for whom he has no sexual attraction, and keeps his homosexual urges and online
flirtations a secret.
He shares the stories of more
high-profile “ex-gays” like Colin Cook, Michael Bussee, Gary Cooper, and John
Paulk—men whose stories helped fuel the ex-gay movement but ended with
scandals, lies, and broken families.
At the very least, Justin suggests ex-gay ministries should include a "results not typical" note at the end of promotional material that includes the testimonies of gays and lesbians who have married members of the same gender and started families.
Of his peers who have gone through
the ex-gay movement, Justin writes: “These were some of the most dedicated and
devout Christians you could ever meet. They were willing to sacrifice
everything to please God. But years of trying to change and being told it would
happen didn’t do anything to make them straight. Instead, it only damaged their
faith and their feelings of self-worth. When they finally came to the point of
telling the truth about what they were feeling, their ex-gay mentors accused
them of ‘backsliding,’ and the churches they had so loved seemed to have no
place for them. In a Gays-vs.-Christians world, admitting you’re gay makes you
the enemy of Christians. After hearing some of these people’s horror stories,
I’m amazed that any of them have any faith left at all.” (p. 86)
If Justin’s story was the
first I’d heard regarding ex-gay ministries, I would withhold judgment, read
more, and perhaps present another perspective.
But it’s not.
Justin’s story—though
powerfully told—is not at all unique. I’ve heard it again and again and again
and again from friends and acquaintances who turned to ex-gay ministries to try
and become straight. Sadly, many of these stories involve painful chapters on suicide,
self-harm, anger at the Church, lies, affairs, and broken families.
Now, as I understand it, Alan
Chambers, president of Exodus International, is trying to reform what is perhaps the most popular “ex-gay” ministry in the country. But I confess, I'm skeptical. I may get into some trouble for saying this, but I don't care; we simply can’t afford any more suicides or families caught in the middle: I think it’s time for evangelicals to
confront reality and move away from the “reparative therapy” approach, which seems to be doing far more harm than good.
The American Academy of Pediatrics, the American Counseling Association, the American Psychiatric Association, the American Psychological Association, the American School Counselor Association, the National Association of School Psychologists, and the National Association of Social Workers, together representing more than 480,000 mental health professionals, have all taken the position that homosexuality is not a mental disorder and thus is not something that needs to or can be “cured.” (See "Just the Facts About Sexual Orientation and Youth" from the American Psychological Association.) The World Health Organization calls reparative therapy "a serious threat to the health and well-being--even the lives--of affected people." Even Robert Spitzer, whose work is often cited by ex-gay ministries, retracted his own study in 2012, citing problems with its methodology.)
While it could be said that anything is possible, reversing a person's sexual orientation does not appear to be the norm, and presenting it as a measure of faithfulness seems nothing short of cruel.
What this means for sexual behavior, marriage, and politics is the topic for future
posts. But, for now, we don’t have to know exactly why people are gay to put a
stop to harmful practices that have left Justin, and so many like
him, with no other option but despair.
We’ll continue this
discussion next week as Justin confronts the inevitability of his same-sex
attraction.
heard about why people are gay? Which seem the most sound?2. Have you or someone you
know gone through reparative therapy or an ex-gay ministry? What was it like?
What were the results?
I’ll be monitoring the comment
section closely to ensure things stay as civil and respectful as possible, with
plans to close the comment thread within the next 24 hours or so, just so I
don’t have to keep up with 200+comments. When someone shares his or her story,
I strongly urge you to simply listen, not argue. We will be devoting future
posts to discussing the biblical and political aspects of this issue, at which
time we are free to whip out our Bibles and constitutions and engage in civil
debate…but now is not the time. For now, let’s just share and listen.
See also, "Forgive them, Father" - a guest post
January 21, 2013
6 Things Christians Must Keep in Mind on Inauguration Day
1.
The president was elected through a non-violent,
democratic process. This may seem like a given, but it’s a reality that many
people around the world long to share, and one for which we should always be
grateful.
2.
As Christians, we are called to pray for our
leaders, a privilege made even sweeter by the fact that our president is also a
Christian.
3.
On a day when we remember the work of Martin
Luther King Jr, we are struck by the fact that we have reelected an African
American for president of the United States. To celebrate the justice this
represents is right and good. May it be a catalyst that moves us toward more
acts of justice and mercy in our communities and in our culture. There is still
much work to be done.
4.
As Christians, we are reminded today that our
ultimate allegiance belongs not to a political party or even a country, but to
the Kingdom of God, where the first is last and the last is first, where the
peacemakers and the poor are blessed, where enemies are forgiven and slaves are
set free, where our King washes feet, where abundant life grows from a tiny
seed into a tree—not by power or might but by the Spirit. If this Kingdom can
flourish under the Roman Empire, it can flourish under any government, in any
country, and in any circumstance. We are never without hope.
5.
There is no place for followers of Jesus to be
consumed with either hate or adoration. Jesus teaches us to love even our
enemies, to bless and not curse, to reserve our adoration for God alone, and to
humble ourselves in the face of power. Responding to today’s events with either
despair or unbridled glee communicates to the world that our trust is in the
government, not in Christ.
6.
Either way, if you don’t want to be tempted into
sinful anger, I recommend staying off Facebook.
(We’ll pick up our series on sexuality and the church tomorrow. Meanwhile, enjoy the day!)
January 20, 2013
Sunday Superlatives 1/20/13
Prayer for the Week: Almighty God, whose Son our Savior Jesus Christ
is the light of the world: Grant that your people, illumined by your Word and
Sacraments, may shine with the radiance of Christ's glory, that he may be
known, worshipped, and obeyed to the ends of the earth; through Jesus Christ
our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, now and
for ever. Amen.
Most Poignant:
Giles Fraser at The Guardian with “The London helicopter crash site, where no meaning
can be found”
“It is often said critically of
religion that it seeks to impose meaning on meaninglessness, that it is a sort
of anxiety reduction strategy in the face of the general randomness of things.
This is not the religion I know. What I see in church is a place that is
remarkably accommodating to confusion and doubt. A place where people bring their not knowing what to do. They
sit and light a candle or say a prayer, not fully understanding what this really means or expecting
some instrumental purpose. "I don't believe in organised religion,"
people often say. That makes me laugh. All religion is intrinsically
disorganised. Forever perched over chaos.”
Most Fascinating:
The Atlantic International with "Beautiful and Terrifying Photos of Orthodox Epiphany"
Most Relatable:
Kimberly Knight with “Called to Serve”
“We all
have our parts to play in kingdom building, my tools just happen to be
monkey-barrel brimming with anxiety, a nearly balanced scale of love &
anger, an almost naive sense of idealism, a generous helping of prayin’, dark
coffee, light toast, a dozen or so notepads, pencils, screens and keyboards.
Eventually we have to shut up, stand up, turn off the damn computer and get our
hands and hearts dirty in the world…”
Most
Inspiring:
Grace
Biskie at Deeper Story with “Be Careful With Me”
“I
hear you, Rhys. Mama is listening. As we approach Martin Luther King, Jr. Day on Monday, I am keenly aware of your
need for me to listen well. One day, King Rhys you will use your voice and change the
world. But you will have changed mine first.”
Most Challenging:
Kelley Nikondeha at She Loves with
“Swords Into Plowshares”
“When Isaiah and Micah spoke of swords into
plowshares they were most likely quoting an ancient song. Maybe they heard their grandfathers sing it or their
mothers hum it as they pounded grain into flour. The hope for peace stretched
back generations and endured in a simple song that expressed human longing and
divine hope. The song haunted these holy men.”
Related: Check out Shane Claiborne’s Facebook Page. He’s
learning to weld so he can literally turn guns into farming equipment. Pretty
cool.
Best Series (nominated by Ashley P):
NPR with “Losing Our Religion,”
a weeklong look at
the growing number of people who say they do not identify with a religion
“These
were the kids who were coming of age in the America of the culture wars, in the
America in which religion publicly became associated with a particular brand of
politics, and so I think the single most important reason for the rise of the
unknowns is that combination of the younger people moving to the left on social
issues and the most visible religious leaders moving to the right on that same
issue."
Best Reflection:
Chaplain Mike at iMonk with “We are far too easily pleased”
“Don’t imagine God is pleased with your sacrifices. Don’t
believe he delights in your strenuous efforts at holiness, your morbid
introspection, your sober demeanor and serious attitude. Don’t think for a
minute that he wants you to reign in your passions and turn your back on
pleasure. No! No! A thousand times no! Not for nothing does the psalmist say to
God, ‘In your presence there is fullness of joy; in your right hand are
pleasures for evermore.’ (Ps. 16:11)"
Best Cartoon:
The Oatmeal with “When your house is burning down, you
should brush your teeth”
Best Imagery:
Jonathan Martin with “The God of the Sea and the Sea
Monster”
“What is so disturbing about the book of Job is
that it blows the lid off the theology of retribution. That is that
theology that says, If you do good then good things will happen to you; if you
do bad then bad things will happen to you. That is the kind of world we
can understand, order, and best of all, control. When Job encounters the
sea, He encounters the chaos and disorder within the creation. He is
presented with an undomesticated God who is not the originator of the chaos,
but who does in fact allow it for a time until the creation will be restored to
its intended beauty. There are no tightly ordered systems, there is no
guarantee that any created thing will avoid the wildness or even
suffering. Job must learn how to confront a world like that where there
are no guarantees, and yet learn to live without fear. I think here of
Frederick Buechner’s beautiful quote: ‘Here is the world. Beautiful and
terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.’”
Best Critique:
Julie Clawson with “Emergence Christianity, Women, and the Fall of Christendom”
“The story as she told it made sense – constructed narratives
work that way – women are to blame for the post-Christian era and if we just
got back in the home the faith could thrive again. But it is important to note
that in her narrative instead of focusing on what has emerged that brings hope
in this world, she was telling the story of why things have changed – which are
two vastly different perspectives. At some point in telling the story of change
it is hard not to get nostalgic about one point or another and hold a
sugar-coated vision of that time up as the period we must all try to harken
back towards. The problem with such an approach is that it ignores the
underside of said period and it imposes guilt upon those who find hope outside
that period’s restrictions.”
Related:
Suzannah Paul raises some questions about privilege & the emerging church.
Krista Dalton worries about the witch hunt.
Bo Sanders offers some practical advice.
Best Challenge:
Heretic Husband with “John Piper and the No True Complementarian Fallacy”
“Well here's the thing: conservative Christians like Piper generally agree that
Christ was perfect. So in saying this, they are essentially saying that in
order for complementarianism to function properly, it requires a perfect
husband. Or, to put it another way, the more Christlike a husband is, the
better a complementarian relationship will function. This gives them a great
deal of leverage when arguing with egalitarians. Any concerns that egalitarians
raise about abuse of leadership by men can easily be dismissed. That's not true
complementarianism!”
Best Interviews:
Matthew Paul Turner interviews Shane Hipps and Joy Bennett interviews Jason Boyett
Most Thoughtful:
Enumka Okoro with “God Favored Older Parenthood”
“I am not suggesting that we refute or ignore
science when it comes to trying to make wise decisions about when to parent.
But I am saying that my perspective on what is possible and wise is also
largely determined by a narrative that begins with the impossible reality of a
God who engages with humanity in often times illogical and seemingly foolish
ways. As a Christian woman who is in the “high-risk” bracket and not in a
position right now to have a child there is this crazy, but convicting element
of trust, and hope. I have to trust that if raising children is in my future
then God will make a way even if the “facts” say there is no way, or that the
way is full or risk and danger. I have to trust that when it comes to my desire
to one day be a parent that God’s imagination is larger than mine with regards
to how that might come about. I also have to trust and hope in the sustaining
power of God to help bear the weight of desire that may very well go unmet.
Those are risky moves too."
Related: See Enuma’s response to criticism that she is naïve
here.
Most Provocative:
Wendell Berry on Gay Marriage
“Condemnation by category is the lowest form of hatred, for
it is cold-hearted and abstract, lacking even the courage of a personal hatred.
Categorical condemnation is the hatred of the mob. It makes cowards brave. And
there is nothing more fearful than a religious mob, a mob overflowing with
righteousness – as at the crucifixion and before and since. This can happen
only after we have made a categorical refusal to kindness: to heretics,
foreigners, enemies or any other group different from ourselves.”
Related: Evangelical
Pastor Steve Chalke endorses same-sex marriage
Most Practical:
Brain Pickings with “How to Write With Style with Kurt
Vonnegut”
“Find a subject you care about and which
you in your heart feel others should care about. It is this genuine caring, and
not your games with language, which will be the most compelling and seductive
element in your style.
Find a subject you care about and which
you in your heart feel others should care about. It is this genuine caring, and
not your games with language, which will be the most compelling and seductive
element in your style.”
Most Likely to Make You More
Interesting at a Dinner Party:
The Week with “14 Wonderful Words with No English Equivalent”
Most Likely To Make You Too Interesting at a Dinner Party:
Skymall with “Wine Glass Holder Necklace"
Coolest:
60 Insane Cloud Formations From Around the World
Craziest:
BBC: “Paul Salopek: Going for a seven-year walk”
“US journalist Paul Salopek is
going to spend the next seven years walking from Ethiopia to the tip of South
America, retracing the journey of early humans out of Africa and around the
world.”
Wisest:
Kate Bassford
Baker with “Please Don’t Help My Kids”
“So
I'll thank you to stand back and let me do my job, here, which consists mostly
of resisting the very same impulses you are indulging, and biting my tongue
when I want to yell, "BE CAREFUL," and choosing, deliberately,
painfully, repeatedly, to stand back instead of rush forward. Because, as they
grow up, the ladders will only get taller, and scarier, and much more difficult
to climb. And I don't know about you, but I'd rather help them learn the skills
they'll need to navigate them now, while a misstep means a bumped head or
scraped knee that can be healed with a kiss, while the most difficult of hills
can be conquered by chanting, "I think I can, I think I can", and
while those 15 whole feet between us still feels, to them, like I'm much too
far away.”
Bravest:
Kathy Escobar with "When You’re Mad at God”
“When it comes to God, some of the same thingsWomen of Valor…
apply. We either tend to flee or fight and often don’t end up in a better
place.”
Join me in praying for the Women of Valor headed to Moldova,
including Idelette McVicker, Alise Wright, and a bunch of amazing women whose tweets you can
follow here.
Anjeanette Carter (@anjeanettec) with “Donuts are like if
sugar could give hugs.”
Bethanne Patrick (@TheBookMaven) with “Willa Cather: I like trees because they seem more resigned to
the way they have to live than other things do.” #fridayreads
Daniel Kirk
(@jrdkirk) with “If 20 theologians in a room shared the same
identical theology, that would be your 1st clue to take your leave from that
room." -Paul Allen
Emily McCombs (@msemilymccombs) with “I bet a lot of
mermaids just want a nice, low-maintenance pixie cut.”
Melissa Hatfiled (@melissahatfield) with “I don’t normally
LOL while reading but @rachelheldevans's "A Year of Biblical
Womanhood" made me that person on the plane.”
You know the Turquoise Wonder? The one we
recently ditched for an upgrade? Well, it’s sitting in our driveway now, and
overnight, this happened.
Dan says it’s got something to do with
moisture and ice and leaving it out in the elements. I’m convinced it’s some
kind of hellish possession triggered by our recent rejection. Anyone got some
holy water or something?
On Sunday, January 27, I’ll be speaking at Blacksburg United
Church in Blacksburg, Virginia. There are three services: 8:45 a.m., 11 a.m.,
and noon. At 1:30 p.m., I’ll be hanging out with the Wesley Foundation at
Virginia Tech. Learn more here and here.
Most Popular Post:
“Torn, Chapters 1-5: What Happens When ‘God Boy’ is Gay”
In response to that post, JClyde wrote:
I love this book. I gave it to my mom and she told me it was as
if she was reading our family's story. I so desperately want my Christian
friends who are confused about how to deal with the "rainbow elephant in
the room" to read this book. I've posted my story on here before so I
won't bore you with the details but I guess what I and others like me need
Christians to STOP doing is to make us feel like we couldn't possibly have a
genuine relationship with Christ and be in a same-sex relationship.
Building a relationship with God takes a great deal of spiritual
effort, discipline, understanding of the scripture, prayer and courage. To
assume that I, as a gay man and a Christian, have simply decided one day that I
wanted to have my cake and eat it too belittles the years and years or
heartache, prayer, suicidal thoughts, rejection, more prayer and meditation and
work that I had to go through to finally understand that "Yes God loves me
and he doesn't want me to be alone".
I just want people to
stop trying to define my relationship with God as "less than" or
"corrupted" because it doesn't conform with your interpretation of
the scriptures. It doesn't give me a free pass to do whatever I want in life
but God's grace is the most powerful thing in all of creation. I pray everyday
for him to guide me and every day I am strengthened by what I know to be true.
I am who I am and though I may have many flaws and sin is woven through my
soul, God loves me and he wants me to extend that love to my neighbor. And most
of all I want to meet other people who think like that. They are becoming more
and more vocal on sites like this but I would love to meet people in real life
who are committed to Christ enough to embrace the "Misfit Toys" like
me. People who are like me need friends and allies so much more than they need
"tough love". We are wounded, hurt, rejected, hated and laughed at.
So swallow your pride and I will swallow mine and we will walk into that church
someday and sit next to each other and you will see me as one of God's children
and I will see you as my friend/brother/sister and we can all stop this
ridiculous fighting about what a REAL Christian is.
The entire comment section after that post is worth a read. In fact, all of
these week’s posts have yielded fantastic comment sections, so check them out.
You will likely lean more from the comments than the original post! And if you're interested in reading along with Torn, you can find it here.
“That you may have the wisdom to know the story to which God
calls you, the power to pursue it, the courage to abide its mysteries, and love
in every step.”
– Jan L. Richardson
And don’t forget! You can find me on Facebook,follow me on Twitter, and read Evolving in Monkey Town & A Year of Biblical Womanhood.
So, what caught your eye online this week? What’s happeningon your blog?
January 19, 2013
Gramma – A Woman of Valor
By Nikki Weatherford
“Dear God don’t let her see me.”
I hunch over and pull my hood over my head, careful not to turn to either side. If I just look straight ahead she won’t recognize me. Then again, grandmothers do have special powers of observation. Soon I’m caught up in the game and the conversation with my friends, and I forget about the potential embarrassment lurking a few bleachers behind me. Crisis averted.
Or so I thought.
Days later I’m sitting in her kitchen. I’ve forgotten about the game until she mentions having been there. My cousin just happens to be the team’s All Star, so I never miss a game. And neither does Gramma. Soon two and two are put together and she knows that I was there. One look at Gramma and I know she’s read between the lines. I avoided her. On purpose. With a slightly furrowed brow and understanding in her eyes she simply says, “hmm”.
So simple. To most that’s no more than an empty utterance, but from this woman it may as well be an epistle. No need for reproach or harsh words, she has put me in my place. Somehow, I think, a lecture would’ve be easier to swallow.
Fast forward six years.
Back in Gramma’s kitchen I sit and watch as she prepares dinner. It occurs to me that this has been the only constant in my life: this house, this scene, this woman. I feel like I’m four years old again, sitting and watching as she fixes lunch, and hanging on her every word. I bristle at the thought of the in between years. In my five-year-old eyes, this woman was perfection. In my twenty-one-year old eyes, she was everything I wanted to be. But somewhere in between my eyes grew dim, and I could no longer see her worth. I filed her away with a hundred other things that I knew would still be there whenever I got around to them.
How gracefully she maneuvers around chopping, mixing, baking, and sharing words of wisdom with me, a nervous bride-to-be. How she can do so many things at once always amazes me. It occurs to me that I really don’t know this woman, and my heart longs to dig deeper. Beyond the words of a grandmother to her granddaughter, I want to know who she was, who she is, and how the two collided. To even think of someday filling her shoes seems an impossible quest. I glance at the ring on my finger, and look up to see her eyes focused on mine. And there it is, a slightly furrowed brow, and understanding in her eyes.
“Just be sweet, Nikki,” she says softly, then goes back to her chopping.
Fast forward six years.
A nightmare wakes me in the middle of the night. I dream I’m standing on a stage in the middle of a small church, delivering a eulogy. Gramma’s eulogy. Tears stream down my face and I feel for a moment that I am paralyzed. What would I do without this woman?
Days later I sit in her kitchen watching her do dishes. It’s late, the rest of the house is in bed. She begins to talk about days gone by. I have been haunted for days by my dream, and an overwhelming fear of her not being here. Suddenly I am on mission, to soak up every ounce of wisdom and truth and life I can from her.
The world fades away as I hone in on her tales. Some I’ve heard a hundred times, yet I still listen as if it were the first time I was hearing. As always she begins with the story of a mischievous little girl skipping school and lying to her Mama about it. I laugh, finding the story hard to envision. From there comes my favorite part, the love story. My heart always warms a little when she talks about bringing him home to meet her parents: “They loved him, too” she says, her eyes brimming with memories. Sixty years later and she’s still swept off her feet by the thought of him.
But there is more to this woman than a love story, and we soon get to that. Beyond the romance, there is loss. So much loss. My heart breaks as she recalls them one by one, occasionally pausing on a silent memory, one I know she doesn’t want to share.
Tears form in my eyes and I look down, “Dear God don’t let her see me."
When I look up she just smiles, furrowed brow and knowing eyes, and a simple, “hmm”. I’m not sure that I’ll ever be what she is. She has lived a life that has been so full of bumps. And yet she stands tall, strong, and so full of love. So full of peace. How? How did she continue to breathe after losing her young son to his own hands? How did she continue to wake up each morning after her Love closed his eyes so many years too soon? How did she keep moving when, so many times, her world seemed to stop?
But the answer is written all over her. Grace. She is covered in it. And without a single syllable she looks at me and says, “You are, too.”
***
Nikki is a wife, a mother, and a wannabe do-it-yourselfer. Once a little girl who dreamed of the big city, she somehow ended up a housewife in the middle of the Bible Belt. And she loves every second of it. She spends her days writing, painting, and playing dinosaurs with her kids. You can find her at christianbyassociation.com.
This post is part of our Women of Valor series. Eshet chayil—woman of valor— has long been a blessing of praise in the Jewish community. Husbands often sing the line from Proverbs 31 to their wives at Sabbath meals. Women cheer one another on through accomplishments in homemaking, career, education, parenting, and justice by shouting a hearty “eshet chayil!” after each milestone. Great women of the faith, like Sarah and Ruth and Deborah, are identified as women of valor. One of my goals after completing my year of biblical womanhood was to “take back” Proverbs 31 as a blessing, not a to-do list, by identifying and celebrating women of valor. To help me in this, you submitted nearly 100 essays to our Women of Valor essay contest. There were so many essays that made me laugh, cry, and think I’ve decided that, in addition to the eight winners we featured in August, I will select several more to feature as guest posts throughout the fall.
We have honored a single mom, a feisty professor, a midwife, a foster parent, an abuse survivor, a brave grandmother, a master seamstress, a young Ugandan woman who reached out to a sister in need, and many more.
Read t he rest of the Women of Valor series here.
January 18, 2013
Grace for the privileged too?
This may come as a surprise to some, but I’m more
comfortable speaking in front of evangelical groups than progressive, emerging
groups. This is partly because evangelicalism is my background, so I know the
language, relate to the culture, and can offer something of a challenge to an evangelical
audience. But it’s also because I know exactly what not to say to evangelicals,
whereas, in more progressive Christian communities, I’m still learning the
ropes.
For example, under no circumstances should you stand in
front of an evangelical church group and refer to God as “She”… unless, of
course, you are prepared to divert the entire conversation to an argument over
pronouns and the divine feminine. (Then
go for it!) This fact seems rather obvious to me, having grown up in the
evangelical world. Less obvious to me is the fact that, under no circumstances
should you stand in front of a progressive, emerging church group and refer to
God as “He”… unless you are prepared to divert the entire conversation to an
argument over pronouns and the divine feminine. (That one I learned the hard way!)
Similarly, it’s only been in the last few years that I’ve
been confronted with my own privilege as a straight, white woman. It’s taken
many, many conversations with many, many patient LGBT folks and people of color
for me to recognize the subtle ways in which my attitudes and language betray
prejudices and inadvertently cause pain. We saw this play out in the comment
section earlier this week when an open, inquisitive reader asked a question of LGBT
readers that included the phrase “gay lifestyle.” Several readers explained how
that phrase can be hurtful, given the fact it is often invoked negatively to
cast LGBT folks as a monolithic group with a single lifestyle to be condemned.
I was impressed with how the initial commenter responded—with an apology and an
eagerness to learn more— and for the most part, her follow-up questions were
met with equally gracious responses from gay readers. Still, some seemed to
assume the worst about the commenter’s motives and attitude, making it hard to
keep the conversation going in a productive direction.
This happens sometimes in my conversations about women in
the Church. Although I identify as something of a feminist, I still have a lot
to learn about feminism. (They didn’t have a women’s studies major at Bryan
College, believe it or not!) It can be frustrating when I’m engaged in dialog
with fellow feminists, eager to learn more and eager to bring my own experiences
to the table, only to be raked over the coals after saying something “wrong”
without even realizing it. Often it’s
because I am unfamiliar with the lingo and language, so I leave feeling kinda
stupid and shamed.
We see this play out in the realm of social justice too.
Many of us, when initially confronted with our relative wealth and freedom as
Americans, respond in the only way we know how—as consumers. We switch to fair
trade, reassess our spending habits, write checks to charities, and join the
Facebook page of a low-commitment justice campaign. Of course, as our convictions persist and
mature, we begin to see the ways in which we are complicit in global wealth
disparity and injustice, and we begin to think more seriously about policy, about
sustainability, about making more dramatic attitude and lifestyle changes, and
about problems within some of our charities and justice groups that perpetuate
a white savior complex, sometimes doing more harm than good. As I explained in an article for Relevant regarding Kony
2012, we must move from a simplistic understanding of justice to a more complex
one, but that process takes time, and we have to have grace for one another as
we go along.
it comes to confronting our own privilege.
This is not to say that the underprivileged should let the
harmful assumptions and attitudes of privileged slide—far from it! It’s just to
say that when we confront those assumptions and attitudes, we have to do so
with a person’s overall character and posture in mind. Folks with a generally
open, vulnerable posture, who are eager to learn and willing to admit their
mistakes, learn the most when they receive enough benefit of the doubt to
engage in conversation without it disintegrating into anger and name-calling.
Sometimes I worry that people of goodwill miss out on
important conversations because they are scared off, so fearful of saying
something wrong and having their character and motives questioned that they
retreat to the safe and familiar—often returning to the privileged, closed-off
communities from which they came.
I shared an article in Sunday Superlatives last week called
“The Distress of the Privileged.” I think the author, Doug
Muder, makes a good
point:
“As the culture
evolves, people who benefitted from the old ways invariably see themselves as
victims of change. The world used to fit them like a glove, but it no longer
does. Increasingly, they find themselves in unfamiliar situations that feel
unfair or even unsafe. Their concerns used to take center stage, but now they
must compete with the formerly invisible concerns of others.
If you are one of the
newly-visible others, this all sounds whiny compared to the problems you face
every day. It’s tempting to blast through such privileged resistance with anger
and insult….
Confronting this
distress is tricky, because neither acceptance nor rejection is quite right.
The distress is usually very real, so rejecting it outright just marks you as
closed-minded and unsympathetic. It never works to ask others for empathy
without offering it back to them.
At the same
time, my straight-white-male sunburn can’t be allowed to compete on equal terms
with your heart attack. To me, it may seem fair to flip a coin for the first
available ambulance, but it really isn’t. Don’t try to tell me my burn doesn’t
hurt, but don’t consent to the coin-flip.
The Owldolatrous
approach — acknowledging the distress while continuing to point out the
difference in scale — is as good as I’ve seen. Ultimately, the privileged need
to be won over. Their sense of justice needs to be engaged rather than beaten
down. The ones who still want to be good people need to be offered hope that
such an outcome is possible in this new world.”
Read the entire article.
I can’t help but think of the early church, which included
Jews and Gentiles, rich and poor, slaves and masters, men and women, tax
collectors and zealots. You gotta know there were some uncomfortable,
vulnerable conversations happening in that context!
Paul’s instructions to the Colossians seem especially
appropriate:
“So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved,
put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; bearing
with one another, and forgiving each other…Beyond all these things put on love,
which is the perfect bond of unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your
hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body; and be thankful. Let the
word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom teaching and
admonishing one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with
thankfulness in your hearts to God. Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in
the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father.”
Obviously, there are people who are unwilling to acknowledge
or confront their privilege and continue to wound even after they’ve been told
that their words, attitudes, and actions are hurtful; they should be called out, and in
some cases avoided for the sake of creating safe communities for the people
they hurt. (Please do not interpret this as a call for the oppressed to just get
over their oppression and “forgive and
forget.”) But there are also people of goodwill who are quick to listen and open
to change, but who still have a lot to learn and are going to make some
mistakes along the way. I count myself among them, and I ask my brothers and
sisters for grace.
curve”? Have you ever felt cut out of a conversation, or even condemned, because
you are new to the dialog and haven’t learned the lingo and language yet? And is it fair to ask the underprivileged to extend patience
to the privileged? Where do we draw the line?I’m eager to hear a diversity of folks weigh in on this. It’s
something I’ve been thinking about for a while but still struggle to
articulate. I could be wrong...so feel free to tell me if you think I am. :-)
January 16, 2013
Is Marriage Really an Illustration of Christ and the Church?
Today I'm thrilled to introduce you to one of my favorite bloggers - Kristen Rosser. Kristen is one of those people who strikes me as being both smart and wise...a combination that shouldn't be taken for granted. I always learn something new from her posts, which are consistently well-researched, thoughtful, and challenging.
Born and raised high in the Colorado Rockies, Kristen Rosser now lives in the Pacific Northwest, where she is raising two children, now teenagers, with her husband and best friend of nearly 25 years. After becoming a Christian at the age of 15 , she experienced some of the excesses of the word-of-faith, shepherding and dominionist movements, which led her to reassess her beliefs and seek a simpler and more Christ-centered faith. Describing herself, Kristen says, “I’m an idealistic and poetic sort, but with a strong streak of practicality. Officially, I’m a paralegal; unofficially, I’m an avid reader, a lover of walks in the woods, a student of theology and scripture, and the willing servant of two cats.”
Kristen blogs at Wordgazer's Words, which you should subscribe to right this minute.
Today Kristen shares her take on Ephesians 5...
***
Is Marriage Really an Illustration of Christ and the Church?by Kristen Rosser
I once believed that God intended my marriage to be a picture or illustration of Christ’s relationship with the church—a shining beacon of godly headship and submission for all the world to see. I somehow never felt that my own marriage was adequately living up to this ideal, though. Perhaps it was because what we actually had in practice was a marriage of two best friends and companions—but the ideal still lived in my mind as something to strive for, and something we were inexplicably falling short of.
The concept that marriage is meant to illustrate Christ’s relationship with the church is pervasive in evangelical Christianity today. It is based on Ephesians 5:21-33, where Paul speaks of Christian marriage. About.com- Christianity specifically states that God intended marriage for this, and the New Living Translation even says so explicitly:
As the Scriptures say, "A man leaves his father and mother and is joined to his wife, and the two are united into one." This is a great mystery, but it is an illustration of the way Christ and the church are one. Eph 5:31-32, NLT.
The About.com-Christianity web page goes on to explain that the way this works out is that husbands “illustrate” Christ’s leadership authority, as well as His self-sacrifice, while wives “illustrate” the church’s submission to Christ’s leadership authority. But is this what the Bible actually teaches?
My story...
Later in my marriage, when I began re-examining many doctrines I had been taught, the idea became more and more troubling. If Paul is really saying that marriages illustrate Christ’s authority over the church and the church’s obedience to Him, this has serious implications. I have heard preachers say that when non-believers look at the leadership of husbands and the submission of wives, they will see the beauty of Christ’s relationship with the church and be drawn to Christianity. I have heard teachings that a marriage will only properly illustrate Christ’s relationship with the church when the husband steps fully into his leadership role and the wife responds by joyfully placing herself under his authority. But the idea of husbands and wives as best friends and companions is essentially in conflict with this notion. A kind of friendship may be had between an authority figure and a subordinate, but not the mutual closeness and intimate, reciprocal trust that people call “best friendship.” And which one does God want marriage to be? As a young married Christian, I knew how happy I was with my husband as best friend. That seemed to be what “the two shall become one flesh” had to be about. But I never really examined the inherent contradiction.
Are Christian wives really supposed to show the world a picture of human obedience, while their husbands are a picture of their Lord and God? Is marriage a place where a man and a woman illustrate divinity (the man) relating to humanity (the woman)? Non-Christians are hardly drawn to Christianity by this picture-- they are often frankly disgusted. But this is certainly what this marriage-as-illustration teaching implies.
The Illustration...However, in actuality the original text of Ephesians 5:32 never uses the word “illustration” or any similar word. The more word-for-word translations translate that verse like this:
“This is a great mystery; but I speak concerning Christ and the church.” KJV
“This is a profound mystery, but I am talking about Christ and the church.” NIV (1984)
“This mystery is great, but I am speaking with reference to Christ and the church.” NASB
What is being said here? Is marriage an illustration of Christ’s relationship with the church? Or is something different, and much more profound, going on in these verses?
First of all, look at the direction in which the comparisons move. Christ and the church are not said to be “as” husbands and wives. It’s the other way around. Husbands and wives are “as” Christ and the church. If one relationship is being set up here as a picture or illustration to help us see the other relationship more clearly, it is Christ and the church who are the illustration, the picture for husbands and wives to follow— not the other way around. Husbands and wives are to see more clearly what God meant marriage to be, by looking at a picture of Christ’s relationship with the church. But— and this is important— the passage doesn’t just say, “You husbands and wives, try to generally imitate Christ and the church.” The illustration being given here is not general, but specific. Husbands and wives are to imitate this particular picture of Christ and the church.
So what is the picture? What is being illustrated?
We can’t understand what this passage means to us, until we understand what it is most likely to have meant to the original audience, as Paul intended it to be understood.
In order to see more clearly what picture Paul was painting as an illustration, I’d like to look at this passage in light of its literary structure. Kenneth Bailey, research professor of the New Testament and scholar of Middle Eastern history and culture, uses the term “chiasm” to describe the repetitive kind of structure used in this passage. A chiastic literary structure can be viewed as a sort of sandwich, with repetitive parallel elements at the beginning and end as the pieces of bread, similar repetitive elements within those, representing the condiments, and the meat— the main point of the passage—in the middle. This is a common Middle-Eastern literary style and is frequently used by New Testament writers, including Paul.*
The parallel ideas and phrases in this text are largely self-evident, when you're looking for them. Parallel statements to wives are at the beginning and end, with parallel statements to husbands at second and second-to-last, and so on. What we tend to miss is what the original Middle-Eastern audience would have understood those parallelisms to be doing.
Since we in the West tend to put the main point of what we are trying to say at the beginning, or at end (or both) when we are writing, we can easily read a passage of Scripture without understanding what the main point was. We can read a passage like Ephesians 5:21-33 and see the main point as “Wives submit to your husbands as to the Lord” (if we start where most translations divide the text, in verse 22). But a first-century Middle Eastern would not have read the opening and closing phrases of the passage as the main point. A first-century Middle Eastern would have seen verse 21, “and be subject to one another in the fear of Christ,” as a transitional phrase that ends the earlier section about Spirit-led living and also begins the section referred to as Paul’s household codes. The “wives be submissive” phrases at the beginning and end are the outer pieces of the chiastic sandwich, and thus the least important.
So what is the point right in the middle? It is this phrase right here:
That He might present to Himself the church in all her glory…
This point is surrounded on either side by parallel phrases about Christ making the church holy. But the picture of Christ presenting the church to Himself in glory, is what the original readers would have understood to be the central point.
Pater Familias...It’s important, of course, to keep in mind the world in which Paul and his audience lived. The structure of that world centered around the pater familias [father of the family] as the ruler and authority over an economic/familial unit— the household, which consisted of the ruling patriarch, his wife, children and slaves. Paul doesn’t try to fight against the cultural structure, but counsels the Ephesian church on how Christian marriage can work within it.
The husbands were the ones with control in that society. Wives were not in a position to be able to make any substantive changes to turn marriage as it was understood, into marriage as the Lord wanted it in the church. It was husbands who had that power. So husbands are instructed to imitate Christ’s love for the church. But the specific picture/illustration given them to imitate is not one of authority and leadership, but of giving and sacrifice. Husbands were told to love their wives the way Christ loved the church when He gave Himself up for her—gave up His power and position to come down to the level of a servant— so that He could raise the church up to His holiness.
Husbands’ imitation of this picture of Christ would not involve holding onto their society-given rights and powers, but emptying themselves of them.
And the purpose of the emptying was glorification. What Christ does for the church, in this illustration that marriages are to emulate, is raise the church up to be glorious! How could husbands in that culture, understanding the chiastic sandwich structure and thus grasping Paul‘s true message, have understood anything other than that they were to raise their wives out of their lowly position into a glorious one?
The Mystery...So what is Paul talking about when he states he is actually talking about Christ and the church as a “great mystery”?
According to Ephesians 3:4-5, “mystery” refers to a divine secret which God reveals, or will reveal, through the Holy Spirit. The implication is that it is not something we can discover or figure out on our own, apart from God’s revelation.
But here’s the rub. The “mystery” here is the final, complete glorification of the church so that she becomes “one flesh” with the divine Son. This is something that has not yet taken place, but is going to take place when He returns, even as 1 John 3:2 says, “Beloved, now we are children of God, and it has not appeared as yet what we shall be. We know that when He appears, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him just as He is.”
In this light, the idea that human marriage is meant to show or illustrate Christ and the church, falls apart. The Wedding Supper of the Lamb is still in the future. Christ and the church are not yet married! Is it possible to illustrate something that has not yet occurred or been revealed— something that we cannot figure out by ourselves what it’s going to look like?
Human marriage cannot illustrate the divine— but it can follow the divine picture as far as it has been revealed. What has been revealed in Ephesians 5:21-32 is that Christ has come down from His high position, given Himself for the church, and that He is now preparing her for glory— the glory of being “one flesh” with Himself. And what following that illustration would look like to Paul’s original audience would be husbands coming down from their high position, to raise their wives up from their lowly position to a place of glorious unity. A place where it would actually become possible for husbands and wives to be best friends.
Typology?Some might now be thinking, “But what about biblical typology? Maybe marriage isn’t an ‘illustration’ of Christ and the church, but surely marriage is a type of Christ’s relationship with the church?”
Typology is a concept mentioned several times in the New Testament. According to the online Holman Bible Dictionary:
“Typology involves a correspondence, usually in one particular matter between a person, event, or thing in the Old Testament with a person, event, or thing, in the New Testament. All elements except this one may be quite different, but the one element selected for comparison has a genuine similarity in the two different historical contexts. . . Typology, a comparison stressing one point of similarity, helps us see the New Testament person, event, or institution as the fulfillment of that which was only hinted at in the Old Testament.”
As Holman states, when the word “type is used in the New Testament, it refers to one element of something in the Old Testament being a pattern for something in the New. Adam is a “type” of Christ— but only in the sense that Adam was the one man through whom the curse of sin came, and Christ is the one Man through whom the gift of salvation came. But Adam is not like Christ in other respects— in fact, it is the “not like” comparisons that are emphasized in Romans 5:14-16.
The New Testament does not actually call any of its own introduced concepts (such as Paul’s concept of New Covenant Christian marriage) “types” of anything else. However, in spite of this, perhaps there is some justification in seeing typology in Christian marriage— for in verse 32 Paul does seem to use it as a pattern that hints at something else which will be the fulfillment. However, if marriage is a type, the hint will not be like the fulfillment in every respect, but in one, limited respect only. And the text itself will show us what is.
The marriage relationship is not like Christ’s relationship with the church in every sense. And the sense that is given by the text is not authority and subordination, but oneness. Marriage typifies Christ and the church because both relationships become “one flesh” relationships. In other respects, marriage is not like Christ’s relationship with the church. Marriage is not like Christ redeeming from sin and the church being redeemed, or like the church worshiping and Christ receiving worship. I have heard husbands say they believed it was their job to cleanse their wives and present them before God as Christ does the church! But that is not the point of similarity given in the possible typology here.
Just because Christ is shown doing or being certain things for the church in the Ephesians 5:21-33 text, does not mean that husbands are to do or be each of those same things for their wives. The text says that Christ is the church’s “Savior,” but (thankfully) I have never heard a husband claim he could step into that role for his wife! But neither does the text say marriage is like Christ leading and the church following. Though the text does say wives are to submit (voluntarily yield), it says nothing about husbands (or Christ) leading. Instead, it talks about husbands (and Christ) loving.
Husbands, like Christ, were understood by Paul and the original audience to be in a position of authority— but exercising that authority is simply not in view in this text. Just the opposite, in fact. Husbands are told to give themselves as Christ gave Himself— and Christ gave Himself to crucifixion, laying down His power and authority.In light of this, it doesn't make sense to say that the husband-authority exercised in worldly marriages of Paul's day was somehow intended by God to continue for all time. Christian marriage in the New Covenant was not intended to be viewed in terms of authority, but in terms of laying down authority and raising up the one under authority.
So if there is any typology in Ephesians 5:21-33, it is the typology of “one flesh.” To map husbands to Christ in any way not given by the typology, is to go beyond the text and to risk husband-idolatry, placing husbands in the place of Christ in their wives’ lives. And to give the worldly authority of husbands in Paul’s day, to all husbands for all time, is to wrongly map the human to the divine.
This passage is simply not about the marriage relationship being intended by God as an authority-subordinate relationship. That is the understanding of marriage that Paul had to work with in his audience’s minds— but that’s not where he left it. Ephesians 5:21-33’s teaching on marriage is about changing that view of marriage to one of unity and love— the kind of love that could transform the authority-subordinate nature of first-century Ephesian marriages, into what God desires for marriage in the New Covenant: oneness, companionship and mutuality. In other words, best friendship.
So when Christians insist on husband-authority in marriage, they are actually going in the opposite direction from where Paul, inspired by the Holy Spirit, was trying to take the church.
Capitulation to Culture?I’d like to finish with a note to those who see my position as giving in to modern culture. Christians who insist that an egalitarian view of husband-wife relations is “capitulating to modern culture” often don’t realize that by not taking into account what Paul’s original audience would have understood him to be saying, they themselves are reading the text through their own modern culture. And because they themselves don’t come from a cultural assumption of male authority, they see it as a correction to our modern culture: an eternal, divine mandate to which we need to return.
But the question is not, “what is the world doing now, so we can do the opposite, right or wrong?” The real question is, should we, in the name of being “biblical,” hold tight to a first-century worldly understanding of male authority? Or should we move forward into the New Covenant of God, where male authority in marriage is replaced by glorious unity?
I know what my husband and I have chosen. We gave up on illustrating Christ and the church.
But we’re more best friends than ever.
-------
*For a detailed explanation of the chiastic literary style, see Kenneth Bailey, Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes, IVP Academic (2008), pp. 13-16.
January 15, 2013
Ask a Liberation Theologian…
Today we pick up our “Ask a” series again with “Ask a Liberation Theologian…”
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.
Generally speaking, liberation theology interprets the teachings of Jesus in terms of liberation from poverty and injustice, emphasizing the Bible’s teachings regarding freedom for the oppressed and Jesus’ mission to “teach good news to the poor, to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight to the blind, to release the oppressed…(Luke 4:18). Liberation theology found some of its first expressions in Latin America and among African Americans, but now includes a range of expressions, including feminist and womanist theology.
I also wanted to feature liberation theology because I wanted to find a way to introduce you to Monica Coleman. A scholar and activist, Monica is committed to connecting faith and social justice. 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 expertise in religion and sexual violence has taken her around the country to speak at churches, colleges, seminaries, universities, and regional and national conferences.
Coleman’s writings focus on the role of faith in addressing critical social issues. She gives hope and inspiration in her most recent book, Not Alone: Reflections on Faith and Depression-a 40-Day Devotional. Coleman writes about church responses to sexual violence in The Dinah Project: a Handbook for Congregational Response to Sexual Violence. In Making a Way Out of No Way: a Womanist Theology, Coleman discusses inter-religious responses to the joys and pains of black women’s lives. She is the 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. She teaches weekly Bible study in her local church, and speaks widely on religion and sexuality, religious pluralism, churches & social media, social justice, mental health, and sexual and domestic violence.
You know the drill: If you have a question for Monica, leave it in the comment section. At the end of the day, I’ll pick the top seven or eight questions and send them to her. We'll post Monica’s responses next week. Be sure to take advantage of the “like” feature so that we can get a sense of what questions are of most interest to readers.
(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.)
Rachel Held Evans's Blog
- Rachel Held Evans's profile
- 1710 followers
