12 Women in Gilded Cages?- A Critique of John MacArthur's "Twelve Extraordinary Women"

I'm in a book group with some of my gal pals, and we meet at a local coffee shop on Saturday mornings to drink coffee, laugh, encourage each other, and discuss a Christian study book. We recently finished up "Respectable Sins" by Jerry Bridges, which was very convicting and very useful. The next book we have just started on is "Twelve Extraordinary Women" by John MacArthur.

Ugh.

I knew going into this book I would probably have issues with it, because I'm familiar with John MacArthur's view of women and also his theology in general. Let's just say he and I don't see eye-to-eye on a lot of things. But after reading the Introduction, Chapter 1, and Chapter 2, I realized it was much, much worse than I expected.

My critiques of his teaching fall under two categories-- 1) his antiquated, patronizing view of women (which could simply be a product of the generation in which he grew up); and 2) his poor exegesis and intepretation of the Biblical passages, which is a much graver charge.

I consider myself a "pro-life feminist," a differentiation that wasn't necessary in the 19th century, when most feminists were staunchly against abortion. I also support many aspects of the "modern feminist movement" that get criticized in church circles (as if the feminist movement were a monolith thing, but that's a discussion for another day). Yes, men and women are different, but you will have a hard time convincing me that a woman shouldn't do this or that solely because she is a woman. I agree with the idea that there are more differences within the sexes than between them. For instance, some think that women shouldn't be combat soldiers because they're "weaker," or "they can't handle the intensity of combat," or "what about if they are taken prisoner." I say that being a combat soldier is based more on a person's temperament than their gender. Some men would completely fold under the pressure, just as some women would. But many women would rise to the occasion and prove themselves "tough enough," just as many men would. On the flip side of that coin, if we are going to deny women the right to enter whatever field they want, then to be "fair," we should also deny men the right to certain fields, such as being OB/GYN doctors. Sure, men can do the jobs, but aren't women better suited? If someone doesn't like that last argument, then they should reevaluate their opinion on women doing "men's work."

This brings me to MacArthur's antiquated view of women. He talks often of "feminine virtues," by which, ironically, he means things like "hospitality" and "ministry to the sick." I was under the impression that those were Christian virtues that both men and women were to do. He reverences "feminine beauty," and while he does clarify that true beauty comes from having a good character, he spends a whole paragraph talking about how Eve must have been a real knock-out. ("Eve was the flawless archetype of feminine excellence. She was magnificent in every way.... Physically, too, she must have personified all the best traits of both strength and beauty. There is no doubt that she was a living picture of sheer radiance." More on this later.)

He also talks about women like they are dainty little creatures who need constant protection ("... women are now being sent into combat situations, subjected to grueling physical labor once reserved for men, exposed to all kinds of indignities in the workplace...") or as a special type of creature whose character is open for judgement and critique by men in general. In reference to "stunningly attractive" Sarah, Abraham's wife, he says, "Wherever she went, she instantly received favor and privilege because of her good looks. That kind of thing can spoil the best of women." (Emphasis mine.)

But more disturbing to me is how he is "teaching" from scripture when it seems like he is basing his opinion on conjecture and hypothesis. For instance, in the quote about Eve above, he is making a conjecture on her appearance, even when he admits that scripture "give us no physical description of Eve." If scripture doesn't mention it, I find it curious that he feels he needs to spend a whole paragraph hypothesizing on her looks. He often explains a verse and then throws something out there as if it is a foregone conclusion, even though the text doesn't support it. For example, when he talks about how God took a rib from Adam to form Eve, he says, "Adam would feel no pain, of course." Now, many assume there was no pain before the Fall, but I don't think that scripture implicitly says that--especially since later, in the curse, God said he would increase Eve's pain in childbirth, not introduce pain (a point MacArthur tries to explain away). He also makes conjectures about how Adam might have altered God's instructions about the forbidden fruit when he told Eve, since, as he says, "It is likely that Eve had heard about God's only restriction not directly from God, but from her husband." We can speculate about that, but we don't know what happened with any certainty. Now, I think it can be useful to think through the "what-ifs" and the "I wonders" in regards to scripture, but when your speculation cannot be clearly delineated from the facts, then that is poor teaching in my mind.

My biggest gripe, and the most disturbing, is how MacArthur portrays a woman's relationship with God-- He doesn't! He spends all his time describing Eve's relationship to Adam. He never says Eve was created for God's glory. He says, "Adam was created first; then Eve was made to fill a void in his existence." Eve "perfectly met every need Adam had, satisfied every longing he may ever have felt and delighted every faculty of his senses." Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up the truck. So Eve was created solely for Adam's needs and pleasures? In addition to the way this sentences objectifies Eve, it ignores the fact that she was created for God. In His image, both male and female He created them, for His (God's) own good pleasure, not his (Adam's) own good pleasure. Yes, Adam needed a helper, and yes, Eve met many of those needs. But if Eve could "perfectly [meet] every need Adam had," then why on earth would Adam need God? MacArthur also says that Eve was "Adam's complement in every sense, designed by God to be the ideal soul-companion for him," but he doesn't mention the reverse--how Adam was designed to complement Eve and be a companion for her.

Another troublesome sentence is when MacArthur is discussing the curse and says when it addresses Eve, "it deals with the two most important relationships in which a woman might naturally seek her highest joy: her husband and her children." Obviously a woman's most important relationship should be the one she has with God. A statement like this seems oblivious to the fact that not all women have children and not all women have husbands. Eve may be an example for women in many respects and the Fall certainly influences all humanity, but we must exercise care in applying the particulars of her situation as a general rule for all women everywhere.

The general idea I get from reading MacArthur's teaching is that woman is for man and man is for God. A woman must go through her husband to reach God, and God reaches woman through her husband. Now, in all fairness, I haven't read the rest of the book, so he may deal differently with single women. But his message for married women seems to be our sole purpose is to serve our husbands, meet their needs, and thus in that way, glorify God. Yes, we do glorify God when we support, respect, and help our husbands. But that's not the only way we glorify God as women, nor do I even think it is the most important way.

MacArthur seems to trace most trouble in our families and our churches back to women and men not fulfilling the roles he thinks they should have: "I'm convinced that if people today would simply embrace God's purpose and seek to fulfill the roles God has designed for our respective genders, both men and women would be happier, the church would be healthier, and marriages would be stronger." Does he really mean to say that before the "modern feminist movement," families and churches were healthier and stronger? When exactly was that, Mr. MacArthur? What golden age of utopia in our marriages and churches are you referring to? Even when men and women stuck to their "gender roles," there was just as much trouble in families and churches as there is today. I'm not a believer in the "good ol' days" and that somehow we are worse off or more sinful today in our modern age. Sin has always been sin, and to think that a change in gender roles has led to a more sinful time in the life of the church seems a bit naive to me.

I'm struggling with whether I should finish the rest of the book or not. If I do, it won't be to gain any insight but rather to critique the author and his teaching. I know I can't look at it objectively now that I'm riled up, ticked off, and upset. The thing is, I want to look at the Bible and see what it says to me as a Christian, not just as a woman. I get the feeling that MacArthur feels true Bible study is for men, and women can find a few nuggets just for them here and there. This book is a companion book to "Twelve Ordinary Men," a discussion of the twelve disciples. I haven't read it, but obviously it's not a manual on how to be better husbands and fathers, since the lives of the disciples as told in the scriptures do not reveal much about that aspect of their lives. Yet all I've learned so far is how MacArthur thinks I should live as a wife and as a mother, not as a Christian. I assume for him, being a Christian woman is synonymous with wife and mother unless circumstances absolutely prevent it, in which case God makes an exception. Maybe I'll read the rest of the book and see if I'm overly harsh in my criticisms. Expect more ranting if I do finish the book. =)

Sparrows in the Snow

Last week, we were hit with a major snowstorm that closed all the schools and many businesses for two days. High winds and freezing temperatures made the roads hazardous, and the snow drifted over 4 feet in places. Since temperatures have been hanging out below 10 degrees Fahrenheit during the day, most of the snow remains.

I was washing dishes this morning and looking out our kitchen window at the snow that covered our yard and drifted up against our neighbors' fence. Then I spotted a commotion in our neighbors' yard—a huge flock of birds descending on the small bird feeder in their backyard. I'm not very good at identifying birds, especially at a distance, so I'm not sure what kind they were. Small and dark brown. The birds flitted en masse between the feeder and the fence, the feeder and the fence, as if they were moving on cue. Those that couldn't squeeze their way in at the feeder were pecking at the ground below for any morsels the sloppy birds above dropped. I noticed there was no snow below the feeder, and I'm not sure if it's because it drifted in such a way to leave a bare spot, or if our neighbors cleared the ground below for the birds. Either way, our neighbors are older and both disabled, and it probably was no easy task for them to trudge through the snow to fill the feeder.

Of course I immediately thought of the verse in Matthew 6:26: “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” And also Matthew 10:29-31: "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows."

God was providing for these little birds through the thoughtfulness of our neighbors. My thoughts then drifted, as they often do when contemplating the goodness of God, to a quandary-- a seeming exception. What about starving children, Lord? How many in the world will go hungry today? I have given, Lord. Should I give more? What more can I do? You could fix it so easily. It's not as simple as setting up “bird feeders” of sorts. Handing out food is good, but it's not always enough. It's drought, it's floods, it's disease—things within the natural world which are within Your control to direct and change. It's also politics, war, and bloodthirsty demagogues—things that are a direct result of sin, and while You don't promise to remove the consequences of sin, could you not spare more of the innocent? (I obviously was ignoring the parts in the passages exhorting me not to worry.)

I have no answers on this cold, wintry day. My family and I have shelter from the cold and plenty of food to eat. We have coats against the cold and a furnace that runs. We live in peace in a wealthy, stable country. We have access to medical care. We have a church that is free to meet without fear of repression. Relatively speaking, we are living in the lap of luxury in many respects. And yet so many in the world don't even have enough food for today.

As we approach the celebration of Jesus' birth, I realize more and more that stuffing ourselves with everything we set our eyes on and filling our houses with gifts upon gifts not only misses the true reason for Christmas, but it may even be offensive to our Savior. And while we all pay lip service to this sentiment, we still go out and buy the gifts, we still make the mountains of food, and we still run ourselves ragged all in the name of the “Christmas spirit.” Yet I think of our neighbors, who despite the difficulties they face on a daily basis, wanted to show kindness and compassion to some of God's creatures and did it in one of the few ways available to them. How much more can I give, to fill the feeder, to scatter the seed, and to spread the blessing to others this Christmas?

We've made it a habit to give to a ministry in honor of our family members in lieu of Christmas gifts. If you are looking for an excellent ministry to donate to, consider the Zimbabwe Emergency Relief Fund through TEAM. (My mother is a missionary in Zimbabwe with TEAM, so I know the money goes to help the people they are working with). Of course there are many wonderful charities and ministries that would be worthwhile places for your gifts.

"He has filled the hungry with good things

but has sent the rich away empty. "

Mary's Magnificat, Luke 2:52

Anne Rice's "The Road to Cana"

Earlier this year I posted a blog on Anne Rice's book, "Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt." I had intended to pick up the companion book immediately after finishing the first one, but I didn't get around to it until a few weeks ago. "Christ the Lord: The Road to Cana" has since made its way to the list of books that have significantly influenced my faith for life.

I won't go into a lot of detail here, because a summary doesn't do justice to the masterful way Anne Rice handles the subject matter and how she seems to make the prose sing (I can't say this about many authors, but I literally read one chapter aloud just to hear the words dance). The book further paints a picture of what it really means for Jesus to be well acquainted with our sufferings and temptations. She imagines, for example, what it would have been like for Jesus to be in love in a romantic sense, to be tempted in physical ways, to experience the heartbreak of love unrequited, and to remain sinless through it all.

Chapter 21 (the chapter I read aloud) is worth the price of admission in and of itself. It depicts Jesus, alone with his thoughts and in prayer with His Father, as he struggles for the 40 days in the wilderness after his baptism. I will quote a bit of it just so you can get a taste:

"Oh, Lord, God, what is judgment and how can it be, if I cannot bear to be with all of them for every ugly word, every harsh and desperate cry, for every gesture examined, for every deed explored to its roots? And I saw the deeds, the deeds of my own life, the smallest, most trivial things, I saw them suddenly in their seed and sprout and with their groping branches; I saw them growing, intertwining with other deeds, and those deeds come to form a thicket and a woodland and a great roving wilderness that dwarfed the world as we hold it on a map, the world as we hold it in our minds. Dear God, next to this, this endless spawning of deed from deed and word from word and thought from thought--the world is nothing. Every single soul is a world!"

And later: "What judgment can there ever be for man, woman, or child--if I am not there for every heartbeat at every depth of their torment?"

It gets better, but I obviously can't quote the whole book here.

I know some people may object to a fiction book putting words in Jesus' mouth that scripture doesn't record Him saying, but Ms. Rice does not give Him words that seem out of place with His character. As in the first book, she shows great restraint in her depiction, and in this second book, she also shows the amazing restraint Jesus Himself must have shown in all aspects of His life. Reading Jesus' "thoughts," one begins to grasp how humanity and divinity might have overlapped and tugged at Him and how He denied Himself many things and endured much so that He could be the perfect sacrifice He came to be. I think I now can better understand the passages in Hebrews that talk about Jesus being "made perfect," because His sinless self had to undergo suffering and temptation in order to be the empathetic, substitutionary high priest and "the source of eternal salvation" (Hebrews 5:9). It is a great encouragement to me to seek to do what's right even when it's hard, to choose the path of love even when my mind cries out for justice, and to follow His commands because I know He's been there before and will walk with me through it again.

With God All Things Are Possible... but Not Guaranteed

Five loaves and two fish. With this meager offering, Jesus miraculously fed the 5,000. Slice it and dice it however you want, and you can get lots of sermon illustrations out of this. How God can take our meager offerings and do great things with them. How we tend to look at human circumstances from our finite perspective when we need to see the world from God's eyes. How with God, the impossible becomes possible, for nothing is impossible with God. With faith as small as a mustard seed, mountains can be moved.

What I find interesting is that I've never heard a sermon preached (that I can recall) on what immediately precedes this story in Matthew chapter 14; namely, the beheading of John the Baptist. Where was John's faith? Where was John's meager offering? And more importantly, where was God to make an impossible situation—namely, saving John's life—possible?

Granted, there's an underlying assumption that God's sovereignty is always at play in these circumstances. He will make the impossible possible if it is His pleasure and desire to do so. What we think is best is not always in line with what God has in mind, so when “sometimes [He] just don't come through” (to quote Tori Amos), it feels like either His hands are tied or His heart is unmoved.

When I find myself in a seemingly impossible situation, as I do in my life right now, the loaves and fish don't bring me much hope. I know God can do the miraculous, but I've rarely seen it, and never on such a grand scale. More often than not, my impossible situations seem to turn out more like John's, and rather than find joy and surprise in the moment like the 5,000-plus hungry people, I have to quietly rest on the hope that somehow in the grand scheme of things, it's going to work out for His glory and my good.

I wonder if I've been “having faith” in God much like a person engages in wishful thinking or rubs a good luck charm—holding out for the big, magical moment when God sweeps in a fixes everything. What if it doesn't come? What if the 5,000 go home hungry? What if the axe still falls? I know God is not any less powerful or less good. But am I trusting Him for what He can do, will do, or might do, or am I trusting Him for who He is? I know He is loving. I know Jesus loved his cousin John just as He loved the little boy with the loaves and fish and just as He loved every person He fed that day. Just as I know He loves me even when my impossible situation remains impossible.

Just because God can doesn't mean He will. Just because He is able doesn't mean He should. He gives, and He takes away, the sun rises and it sets: life marches on. Sometimes His intervening hand sets aside the laws of physics, of cause and effect, of natural consequences. But sometimes it doesn't. Praise Him anyway.

Psychosis and the Spirit-- Christians and Depression

“How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?” Psalm 13:1-2

If you ask me, I think King David struggled with depression. A lot of scholars have suggested that King Saul was bipolar. Jeremiah certainly hit the dumps when he wrote Lamentations. Even Jesus felt extreme sadness and pain in his heart. So where do we get this mindset that Christians are supposed to be happy-go-lucky all the time?

Perhaps it's all the verses on joy and rejoicing-- especially during times of trials. Somewhere along the way we equated joy with a state of emotional stability rather than a conscious decision of how we will think and act based on God's promises. Since Christians are supposed to be “joyful,” we started assuming they are in a state of disobedience and sin when they are not “happy.” The gospel became a vehicle of prosperity, not only in material things, but in emotional health. Thus, if you're depressed, surely you are screwing something up in the spiritual department. As Christians we have the Holy Spirit in us, and the fruit of the spirit includes joy and peace--so if those traits seem absent, perhaps one is not walking by the Spirit... or so the thinking goes.

Those, like me, who have suffered from bouts of serious depression don't even like to talk about the differentiation between happiness and joy. Both are elusive and impossible when you are at your worst. No Bible verse, no promise of God, no hope for healing can bolster your spirits. You find it difficult to pray, even if you want to pray. Other people seem supportive at first but then start to get irritated when the depression lingers.

How silly of us to think that the effects of sin could taint every part of our world and leave our brains and emotions unscathed. Only the health-and-wealth nuts think cancer or other life-threatening illnesses are a result of unconfessed sin. Granted, illnesses can result from our sin, such as the alcoholic who now suffers from liver failure. But a lot of Christians assume depression is not a legitimate physical illness. I think this disconnect comes from the current form of gnosticism that pervades the church-- the mentality that this world and everything in it is just going to be left behind when we fly away to glory. We elevate our spiritual nature and denigrate our physical bodies. We think of them as two separate entities rather than two parts of the same whole, interconnected and intertwined, one constantly affecting the other, and vice versa.

It should be said that depression CAN be caused by sin or outside circumstances. If I'm perpetually living in sin, then the Holy Spirit is going to make me feel conviction, which may make me depressed when I don't want to confess it. Sins like discontentment, unthankfulness, and impatience can cause me to be perpetually unhappy. Situations in my marriage or work may make me stressed and frustrated, which can make me depressed. But what's the explanation when everything in life is just peachy, and I still wake up with this unexplainable weight holding me down? When I can't think clearly? When all I can work myself up for is sleep?

I came up with my own little test years ago-- if I pray and ask God to show me what sin might be causing depression, and I've confessed all the sin I know of, and if I'm not in conflict with anyone or anything in life, and I still feel like crap, then I think it's okay to just say I'm sick and treat it with medication. And thank the good Lord for medication! My Mom always says that Satan never fights fair, so it's okay for us to use chemical warfare when appropriate. When medicine DOES help, I think that's a good indication the depression is rooted in physical causes-- medicine would not remove the guilt of sin nor the consequences of rebellious living. If taking medicine helps clear one's mind to pray and actually helps a person feel well enough to seek God, then I can't see how it is a bad thing. There may be a time when medication is no longer necessary, as I found in my own case. And later down the road, other physical causes may be to blame-- again in my own case, I found my thyroid was way out of whack, and when I got on thyroid meds, my depression went away almost immediately.

But what do we say when a Christian suffers from not only depression, but severe mental illness, to the point that they are suicidal? My husband (who gave me permission to blog about this) also suffers from severe depression and emotional irregularity. Counseling and anti-depressants just didn't seem to help. It all came to a head last week, when he had a gun and a plan. Thank the Lord he willingly checked himself into a psychiatric hospital and gave his shot gun to the police. Six days and several medications later, he's remarkably better. He feels clear headed and hopeful. He is on different medications than he had been on, and it's made a world of difference.

So how should he as a Christian respond to this? How should I as his wife respond? How should the church respond? I can tell you that if someone had said he was just living in sin and needed to repent, that wouldn't have done one iota of good and might have done a world of harm. Yes, his severe depression caused him to sin-- the conflict we have had in our marriage directly stems from sinful responses on both our parts to his obvious illness. But to say his own sin made him psychotic would not be true. To say the fallen state of our world made it inevitable that some people's brains wouldn't work right would be more accurate. Just as some people are born with visible disabilities, surely some people are born with impairments in the wiring and chemistry of their brain. Yes, the fine line between nature and nurture is constantly debated, and there's no way to know which source is the major contributer. They both play a part. The sin lies in how we choose to deal with our inborn weaknesses. If I'm prone to depression, will I acknowledge it? Will I seek help from health professionals and counselors who can not only prescribe the right medications but also help me learn to process my thoughts and identify warning signals? Will I be open and honest with my brother and sisters in Christ so they can uphold me and encourage me?

Since depression runs in my family, I've had ample opportunity to observe the church's reaction to depression. I've seen the church react in very negative ways. I've seen judgmental attitudes and heard very hurtful things said. But I've also seen the church step in to help when appropriate. The same has been true this past week. It's hard to be open and honest with fellow believers about the junk in one's life and in one's brain, but the body of Christ has been incredibly supportive and understanding to us. I'm sure it confuses some of them, but even the approach of “I don't quite understand your situation or know what to think of it, but I'm here to help and pray in any way I can” is a blessing.

It would be great if the church at large would be willing to address depression and mental illness out in the open. It is a fairly common problem. I used to joke that depression was a luxury only those in developed countries could afford to have, and it's true that as a whole, we probably over-medicate ourselves in this country. But that doesn't make the problem any less real. I also think it is best addressed by someone who has either experienced it or at least feels empathetic towards those experiencing it. It wouldn't do much good to have a person with no experience in this regard to get up and start telling people how they should act or what they should do. I find that people who understand depression through first-hand experience can recognize others who have been there through how they talk about it. And I tend to disregard those who speak about it when they obviously have no clue.

For those who are trying to support a person with severe depression, I'm finding that a good support system of friends and a counselor makes a world of difference. Asking for help is a very hard thing to do, but no one knows you need help unless you ask for it.

Finally, I never want to underestimate the power of prayer. The times when you can't seem to pray are the times when you need other people to intercede on your behalf. Those are the times when you'll just have to trust that a simple “God, help me” is heard and understood at the throne of the Father.

The Insidiousness of Sin

I've been reading "Respectable Sins: Confronting the Sins We Tolerate" by Jerry Bridges and meeting to discuss the book with a group of women on Saturday mornings.  Let's just say this book is smacking me right in the face-- in a good, but uncomfortable, way.  If you haven't read the book, I highly recommend it.  

The basic premise is that we as evangelical Christians are very good at recognizing sin in other people and in society at large, especially the "big sins" that also double as hot-button social issues.  But we are not as good at examining the subtle sins in our own lives and dealing with them.  Bridges addresses sins such as ungodliness, anxiety and frustration, discontentment, unthankfulness, pride, selfishness, and the list goes on.  We all struggle with these sins, but if we hope to grow in Christian maturity, we have to recognize them as sin and turn those areas over to the transforming power of the Holy Spirit.

Reading this book and examining different circumstances in my own life, I've come to realize that I have downplayed the seriousness of sin.  I've tended to pass the buck on to God and his supralapsarian sovereignty.  Yes, sure, we are responsible for sin, but God is ultimately responsible for electing to make us beings who would sin.  (I work some pretty fantastic mental gymnastics in this regard.)  I've also, sort of, come to the conclusion that I probably don't really believe in hell (how's that for hedging?).  I've done all of this in my mind just so I can sleep at night and keep myself on decent terms with God.  

But then... wow, I see just how destructive my own sin is.  How little sins, un-confronted and unconfessed, can drive deep wedges in relationships over the years.  It's like termites, gnawing away unseen at the foundation until the house collapses.  Or Chinese water torture... drip... drip... drip... Nothing drastic, but just as devastating.  I've been convicted of some major sin issues in my life, and it's never pleasant to realize the extent of one's guilt.  And yet, what a glorious reminder of how amazing grace is.  To be reminded once again of just how evil my heart is, and how far from God I am, and how I would be stuck here if it weren't for the cross.  

The best part is the assurance that God still loves me, even though I feel like a dirty, broken-down piece of crap.  I don't understand the balance between His justice and His mercy (Who does?  Who ever will?), but I'm thankful that He extends to me His mercy even as His justice dictates that I must live with the consequences of my sin in this present world.

A Gentle Rebuke

The internet is a funny thing.  People tend to feel less inhibited--and often, a little meaner--when they are safe behind their computers making comments than when they are talking to someone face to face. 

I'm no different (although I'm proud to say that in the 2+ years of watching videos on YouTube, not once have I used the proverbial "you suck" comment).  But just this morning I received a gentle rebuke and immediate conviction that it is wrong for me to post things on this blog that I wouldn't be willing to say to someone's face.  Most of my "ranting" posts have been about general frustrations that don't necessarily apply to one specific church or one specific person.  But a few of my posts did criticize a specific person, and I regret that I did that.  I'm rather bad at that "be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry" thing.  I think I'm going to include a "be slow to blog about it" caveat as well.  

Thus, I've edited a couple posts to remove material that was critical and judgmental of specific people.  If I've missed something, please bring it to my attention.  In the future, I'm going to refrain from using specific people as the fodder for my frustration.  In other words, if I wouldn't say it to their face, then I'm not going to post it here.  And I trust you'll hold me to that.