tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89866340908596803452024-03-13T05:26:49.879-05:00Slope SitterRandom musings and observations from a "recovering fundamentalist" trying to live life in the land of gray, the fuzzy middle, the happy perch somewhere on the side of the slippery slope.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger47125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-6723359558237306732012-02-27T13:04:00.000-06:002012-02-27T13:04:45.397-06:00Did I Slip Off the Slope?<span style="font-family: inherit;">I haven't posted in quite awhile, but considering my readership is very small, I don't think anyone noticed or minded. :-)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I started this blog, it was a way for me to process all of my thoughts and questions about the Christian faith. I called it "Slope Sitter," in reference to the adage that once you start <i><b>abc</b></i>, it's a slippery slope leading to <i><b>xyz</b></i>. I set out to prove (to myself, mostly) that it was possible to ask the questions, search for the answers, and perch somewhere in the happy middle on the side of the slope.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Interestingly enough, popular Christian blogger Rachel Held Evans recently <a href="http://rachelheldevans.com/they-were-right-about-slippery-slope" target="_blank">posted about this very thing</a>:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Yes, the slippery slope brought doubts. Yes, the slippery slope brought change. Yes, the slippery slope brought danger and risk and unknowns. I am indeed more exposed to the elements out here, and at times it is hard to find my footing. </i></span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>But when I decided I wanted to follow Jesus as myself, with both my head and heart intact, the slippery slope was the only place I could find him, the only place I could engage my faith honestly. </i></span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>So down I went. </i></span></blockquote><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ms. Evans took on the slippery slope and found herself a ledge to cling to, making her feel more alive in her faith than ever before.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was at that point for awhile. I loved asking the questions. I loved letting go of all the silly, memorized, trite answers I had grown up parroting and replacing them with reasoned, thoughtful responses.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But I kept asking.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It began to feel more like the <a href="http://aaronhildebrandt.com/blog/lies-my-pastor-told-me-the-conclusion" target="_blank">analogy b<span id="goog_468324372"></span>logger Aaron Hildebrandt uses</a> to describe what happened to him<a href="http://www.blogger.com/"><span id="goog_468324373"></span></a> once he started asking questions:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>The result of this can be tricky. Religion is like a life-long game of Jenga. You start with a nice little tower, built with the help of your friends and family, and you’re told that it’s totally fine to poke and prod it a bit, but only because it will result in discovering ways to make the tower even stronger. However, it’s vitally important that you not actually alter the tower too much, lest you fall into the sin of redesigning it to suit your own needs. So, you sit there with this tower. Eventually, you start to notice that a couple blocks are out of place — sometimes God is okay with divorce, it’s a little nonsense to take a stand against evolution, and homosexuality isn’t the result of the devil’s lure. You pull out a few blocks and reposition them. Everything’s still okay. But you keep finding blocks that need to move, more and more. You start to realize that things you were taught were wrong, assumptions were incorrect. You keep changing and tweaking, but every time you do the tower becomes less steady. Over time, it starts to lose its structure, until you see that if you make any more changes the tower will fall completely. And then you sit back, look at the tower, and suddenly understand that there never was any tower, just a number of meaningless blocks cleverly arranged. And yet, this was something you’ve been working on your entire life. Simply pushing the tower over, letting it spill to the ground and walking away is… a difficult action.</i></span></span></blockquote><span style="font-family: inherit;">So where am I at now? I don't know. Will I keep blogging about it? I don't know. There are so many other wonderful blogs out there that do a much better job of describing the process I am (and apparently so many other people are) going through. But it is therapeutic to write it out, so maybe I will keep it up... </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-8227377109819353912011-08-29T22:20:00.002-05:002011-08-29T22:22:35.388-05:00Election 2012 on the Horizon: A Plea for Peaceful Politics<div>It's that time again. We spent August maligning the "incompetent" politicians in Congress and their inability to reach a budget agreement. Now we can go back to picking apart presidential candidates after every public appearance or criticizing the President after every perceived misstep.</div><div><br />
</div>Have you ever said you're sick of politics, politicians, and all the bickering and posturing that goes on between the parties? Have you then gone on to verbally malign a political party or politician? Ever see the dichotomy there?<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>I'm guilty of such hypocrisy, much to my shame. It <i>is</i> possible to have reasoned debates and disagreements without maligning the character or intent of your opposition, but it is very difficult. It's much easier to say someone is uneducated and backwards (or conversely, say someone is part of the ivory tower intellectual elite) than to say you just look at an issue differently. It's easier to say someone is unpatriotic, or anti-American, or heartless, than to give specific reasoning as to why you disagree with their stance. We learn it very young on the playground-- name-calling gets results. As adults, we learn that nothing rallies people to our cause quite like getting them royally pissed off at the other side. So we malign our opponent's character. We ascribe to them evil intentions. We consider ourselves the reasoned, tempered ones, while considering our opponents evil scum bags out to destroy our country.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I've been active in both major political parties at one time or another. This habit goes both ways, because I've done it from both sides. And it is completely and utterly pointless. Democracy lends itself to the power of the majority and while the minority is out of luck. But any hope of compromise requires us to see our "opponents" not as our enemies, but as fellow citizens who just happen to look at the problems differently and see different solutions. It's probably naive to think the tone of our discourse could change on the national level, but at least this change in thinking can temper our political conversations with friends, family, and coworkers. It can dictate what "news" sources we feed into our minds-- do they inform, or do they agitate?</div><div><br />
</div><div>One final word- I remember after the 2010 elections reading reports that called the results a "bloodbath" and talked about the "carnage" of the congressional upset. First world problems, baby, first world problems. Talk a look at Zimbabwe or any of the many countries where elections aren't free and the price of voting for the wrong candidate can mean death. We have a peaceful transition of government after every election--no fighting, no blood, no civil war. So let's not act like we're going into battle in the ballot box.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-90155846462256667222011-08-29T21:23:00.000-05:002011-08-29T21:23:55.158-05:00Dangerous Thoughts or Pertinent Points?I continue on my journey of undergoing seismic shifts in thinking, beliefs, questioning, and doubts. It seems the more questions I seek to answer, the more questions I end up asking, with no answers in sight. While it leaves me somewhat disconcerted, I'm trying to make peace with the idea that some questions are just not going to have answers; or at least, no answers that I can cling to with 100% assurance.<br />
<br />
I was discussing some of my doubts with a family member a few weeks ago, and while he acknowledged he too had doubts, he insisted that my approach to my faith conundrums was "dangerous." Dangerous, because I pointed my finger at the church and held it responsible as the source of much of the pain and confusion I've undergone in the last decade. In essence, he was saying it was okay to question God, but don't go blaming the church for my issues.<br />
<br />
I admit, I was taken aback. Sometimes in church we hear, "Hey, it's OK to express doubt. Ask God these questions. Wrestle with them. It's normal to doubt and wonder." Yet when you do those very things, people start to get nervous that you are "falling away from the faith" or bordering on the profane. How is it "dangerous" to point out where the church has erred? How is it harmful to reexamine past teachings and beliefs in light of new knowledge? Do the doubters among us get pushed to the fringes of our faith communities because we think the whole thing will unravel by a question or two?<br />
<br />
Asking questions about God, faith, the church--and more specifically, fundamentalist faith--is like a Pandora's box, in that once you start, you can't ever put those questions away. When you realize you've believed wrong things, you can't go back to blindly believing them. "Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise." In that sense, I suppose my thinking is dangerous. I can't go back to the warm, fuzzy comfort of an unquestioned faith and assurance in God. But blind, unreasonable faith--that seems to be a greater danger in the long run. <br />
<br />
And so, I keep asking.<br />
<br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-38183348569714501772011-06-19T11:00:00.001-05:002011-06-19T11:02:39.383-05:00Apologizing for HypocrisyI used to think I had all the answers to just about everything in life, and I was quick to tell others those answers. Difficult circumstances? Turn to God for comfort! Marriage troubles? Obey the Bible's guidance for husbands and wives--love and respect and submit and all that! Homosexuality? No, marriage is only for one man and one woman! Abortion? Murder in all circumstances! Politics? Republican! Science? Genesis! And so forth and so on.<br />
<br />
The problem with having a seismic shift in your religious beliefs is that you start to feel like an ass for how you've behaved in years past. Even though most of my attempts to win converts to my way of thinking were well-intentioned, I'm embarrassed and ashamed of many things I've said and written to other people. Granted, I was operating under a genuine belief that if I loved people, I needed to do everything to see them get "saved." This entailed trying to win them to the faith through sound arguments and living in such a way that they would see that itty-bitty inkling of hope within me. Then the Holy Spirit would tip them over the edge of unbelief and into the arms of a loving God. Or so I hoped.<br />
<br />
The trouble is that I was not happy or completely satisfied with the very answers I was giving to everyone else. I never presented the gospel as: "Believe in Jesus and then your life will be just peachy!" I know I was upfront with the "Life will still be very difficult" caveat. Still, I was naive and rather out-of-touch with how my message was being perceived by a lot of people. If they raised arguments, I could crush them. If they still wavered in doubt, I could convince them. If they stubbornly insisted on holding to their sinful lives, I could condemn them.<br />
<br />
Oh, silly, silly, sinful me. Can I take all of that back? Can I apologize for my hypocrisy? I know better now. I really do. I know I don't know much about anything. I don't have this figured out. I know now that no matter how one's life may appear to other people, other people never know the whole story. I didn't know their stories or their experiences. I presumed a great deal. And for that, I'm sorry.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-68155773349370328492011-04-11T10:05:00.003-05:002011-04-11T10:11:15.722-05:00Julia Sweeney's "Letting Go of God"A few months ago I bought Julia Sweeney's one-woman monologue/show called "Letting Go of God." I finally got around to watching it last night. She perfectly captures much of the confusion and frustration I currently feel with my search to understand God, faith, and the world. I haven't quite come to the conclusion she ultimately comes to, but I so appreciate her humor and honesty in describing her journey.<div><br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/geRUTfgTQlo" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> You can see most of her monologue via clips on YouTube, but I highly recommend purchasing the DVD.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.juliasweeney.com/letting_go_mini/">http://www.juliasweeney.com/letting_go_mini/</a></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-70956713770270582832011-03-01T22:53:00.004-06:002011-03-02T00:12:45.575-06:00Out of Misery and Into JoyIt occurred to me over homemade mac and cheese, a generous piece of store-bought chocolate cake, and a glass of wine. It was sometime last October or November, sitting in my new rental house all alone, watching PBS. The kids were with their Dad for the weekend, and while I missed them and was still getting used to the idea of them being gone, I didn't feel lonely. For the first time, I had the delicious thought that I was free to do whatever I wished. No one to judge me. No one to guilt me, boss me around, or look over my shoulder. Thirty years of life, and I finally felt like an adult. I could watch what I wanted, and no one would care. I could eat and drink what I wanted, and no one would think ill of me. I could talk to whomever I wanted without raising suspicions. I could go to the store at midnight, and who would even know?<div><br /></div><div>It may seem a silly thing, but it was rather revolutionary for me. I'm not used to such a wide range of choices nor used to exercising the full range of my volition.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've lost so much in the last year. Marriage, house, friends, neighborhood, idyllic dreams of things that probably never would have been anyway. But through it I've discovered the amazing love of friends who continue to minister to me while I sort through the random pieces of my life. Friends who give my kids and me a place to live. Friends who come and clean, pack, paint, move. Friends who give food and money. Friends who call me up just to check on me. Friends who anonymously leave gifts on our doorstep. And new friends at my new school as we train for our new careers, who offer me encouragement and inspiration as we struggle through together.</div><div><br /></div><div>I hesitate to say that I'm a better person now. We have failed to keep a vow, and there is no way to glamorize or martyrize that. It is a failure, a sin, a breech of trust, a broken contract. But it is what it is. And life goes on, somehow.</div><div><br /></div><div>With my newfound sense of freedom comes a lifting of the weight that has held me down for so long--the unspoken expectations I was so sure God had of me. Surely I must put myself through the spiritual wringer time and again to gain His approval. Die to self, die to self, die to self. Resistance if futile, and misery marks progress. Be miserable, for I am miserable.</div><div><br /></div><div>The great thing about blowing the big stuff like marriage is that everyone in church loses their expectations of you. You move into the category of divorcee, whose only options remaining are to screw it up even further or play the single parent martyr. There is freedom in not having to try to impress people anymore.</div><div><br /></div><div>Such a funny thing, then, to find that when I stop trying so damn hard to be holy--when I give up on the idea of guilting myself into spiritual fitness--I move out of misery and into joy. And while I've roughened up around the edges (when did I start swearing?), I feel more authentically Christian, more whole, more at ease with myself. For the first time in a long time (dare I say ever?), I found myself saying a phrase that felt foreign on my lips- "I am happy."</div><div><br /></div><div>And wonder of wonders, God hasn't struck me down yet. Who knew.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-25580611607133581782010-12-19T21:52:00.006-06:002010-12-19T22:20:43.738-06:00Apathetic About ApathyThe other day I was telling a friend about my "spiritual journey," which was really just a roadmap of heartache at the hands of the church and the people in it. It was also a chronicle of my wide-eyed belief turned cynical-brand of belief. Telling the story in a condensed version, it made me sound rather fickle and wishy-washy, as if I'm easily swayed and change my opinions according to the latest bad experience or theological fad. "I'm a Republican! No, I'm a Democrat! No, I'm Independent!" "Young earth! Old earth! Theistic Evolution!" "I'm Arminian! No, I'm Calvinist! No, I'm both!" "Complementarianism! No, egalitarianism!" Etc. Etc.<div><br /></div><div>When you see the world all in black and white for so many years, learning to distinguish the gray areas is a rather earth-shaking exercise. I'd like to think of it as a process of maturity-- learning to nuance and think through issues with more complexity. So if I'm changing my mind, it's only because I've finally allowed myself the freedom to think through an issue from more than one viewpoint. Nine times out of ten, I realize my previously held belief was inaccurate or incomplete at best. I'm embarrassed of much of what I believed before and even more ashamed at how it made me behave.</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel like I'm at a crossroads in my faith. So much has happened to me that my rational mind can't reconcile it with evangelical faith as I've known it. But I don't think the answer lies in just some other form of church (as my visit to the Episcopal Church this morning confirmed). I have never known this level of apathy before. Before, being apathetic used to elicit a small voice of concern in my brain ("You really should care about this!"). Now I'm even apathetic about my level of apathy. </div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe it's a phase. Maybe when life takes a break from kicking the crap out of me, I won't feel this way. But I find myself despising, deriding, and mocking much of what used to elicit feelings of conviction and devotion. I have no illusions that I can "work myself up" to feel a certain way, but at the very least, I would think these aspects of faith, church, and life wouldn't create such a strong aversion in me. But they do. Quite a lot. And I don't know what to do about it.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-71112061208543937542010-07-04T17:41:00.007-05:002010-07-04T18:34:41.377-05:00Illness, Dysfunction, and/or Sin-- Getting Help and Owning UpI've <a href="http://slopesitter.blogspot.com/2009/11/psychosis-and-spirit.html">blogged about depression</a> and mental illness before and made mention of it in comments and so forth. I've struggled to know <a href="http://slopesitter.blogspot.com/2010/05/where-in-world-is-holy-spirit.html">what role the Holy Spirit plays in a person with depression</a>. Answers remain elusive in this murky topic, but I have a few thoughts to share borne out of the last several months of my life.<div><br /></div><div>Mental illness in Christians is so difficult to understand and treat because there seems to be (at least) three sources of causation that overlap and intertwine: illness, dysfunction, and sin. They may manifest themselves in strikingly similar ways in terms of feelings and behaviors, but they are very different issues. Consequentially, each area has to be dealt with in a different way. Trouble is, it is difficult, if not impossible, to differentiate where one ends and another begins.</div><div><br /></div><div>First, there is <b>illness</b>. Depression and other mental illnesses are often just that-- illnesses with a physiological basis to them. There may be no other explanation other than chemical or biological, but stressful events in life will most certainly aggravate it. Medicine is a usually a good option for treating the illness, although it takes time and sometimes lots of trial and error to find the medications that will help. Of course, no medicine is a cure-all. Its job is to help the person feel well enough to function and to think clearly. Sometimes a person is on meds and feels better, but then they feel surprised when they continue to struggle.</div><div><br /></div><div>That leads to the next area-- <b>dysfunction</b>. An abnormality or impairment in function. A deviation of a norm. Dysfunction, as I understand it, means all the negative and unhealthy behaviors, habits, coping mechanisms, and so forth which one has learned throughout their life. We are all dysfunctional in some sense; we all choose to cope with things in unhealthy ways. It begins in our childhood-- we learn it from our parents and family, our teachers, our peers. We see, and we model. As we get older, we learn our own modes of coping, and we develop our own habits. Our way of dealing with life becomes our own "normal," even if it is unhealthy. The reason I differentiate dysfunction from sin is because it is not necessarily a violation of God's commands. It's generally just a poor way of doing something, but it can be changed and unlearned through therapy, counseling, and/or a conscious decision to alter behavior. For instance, take communication. A family who doesn't know how to communicate with each other in a crisis but rather sweeps the issues under the rug has a dysfunction in their communication. It's not necessarily a sin (although it can be), but it's not necessarily healthy either. Dysfunctions are sometimes hard to identify, because to the dysfunctional person, it IS normal. It is safe. It is all they know. But when a person realizes they have some dysfunctions that are impairing their daily life and relationships, they can begin to make progress to a more healthy way of dealing with the stress of life. Depression, then, can stem from dysfunctional habits and behavior; conversely, dysfunction can exacerbate an illness and prevent a person from getting the help they need.</div><div><br /></div><div>Finally, there's plain old <b>sin</b>. Willfully choosing to do the wrong thing, or willfully choosing not to do the right thing. Lots of people want to call depression a sin-- a person should just be able to "choose" to feel better and "choose" to be joyful. On the other side of the token, a lot of people with depression want to blame all their bad behavior on the illness and not take responsibility for the sin in their lives. And, to complicate matters further, part of the reason they can't take responsibility is because of their dysfunctional way of living and coping. We are all sinners, so we know that on some level, sin and its consequences are coming into play in a person with a mental illness. It may not be the cause, but sin has to be (continually) identified and addressed along with the illness and the dysfunction. That's true even of a person who doesn't have a mental illness. That's just part of being a Christian-- identify, confess, and repent, in sins both big and small. Daily. Hourly, even.</div><div><br /></div><div>So how does one sort through this mess? The Holy Spirit has got to step up to the plate on this one. But a person also has a responsibility to be self-aware. If someone knows they have an illness but refuses to get help, or if they are confronted with their dysfunction and refuse to make positive changes, then one could argue that their illness and dysfunction have led them to sin. But since part of mental illness involves a skewed view of reality, a person not only needs self-awareness, they also need wise counsel around them who can help them make good decisions for themselves. If they are not able to get help when they desperately need it, then family, friends, pastors, counselors, doctors, or somebody has to step in. If a person has gotten help but continues to wallow in their old patterns because it feels safe, or if they begin to place blame or make excuses, then it is not fair to lay the blame solely on illness. The best thing solution then is to own up and take responsibility for themselves in all three areas.</div><div><br /></div><div>Again, none of this is cut-and-dry. It's like a big soup pot of issues floating around together, but they all get served up in the same bowl. But we all have a responsibility to repent of the things we can change (sin), address the issues we can improve (dysfunction), and get help for the things that are out of our control (illness).</div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-9988913543126882392010-05-08T12:40:00.004-05:002010-05-08T13:44:32.582-05:00Where in the World is the Holy Spirit?Doctrines about Jesus and God the Father are fairly consistent from one evangelical church to the next, but let's admit it, doctrines about the Holy Spirit are all over the map. I've attended cessationist churches, and I've attended charismatic churches, and they have sizable differences in what they expect the Holy Spirit to do in the church and in the heart of the believer. But no matter whether you believe the Holy Spirit still gives believers spiritual gifts such as prophecy, tongues, and so forth (which I do, although the idea is often abused), most evangelicals are in agreement that it is the Holy Spirit's job to comfort, counsel, and convict:<div><br /></div><div><i>"</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i>And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Counselor to be with you forever— </i></span><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-26675" style=" line-height: normal; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: text-top; font-size:0.65em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i>17</i></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i>the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 6px;font-size:12px;"><i> </i></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i>in you.... [He] will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you." John 14:16-17, 26 </i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i>"When he comes, he will convict the world of guilt</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i> in regard to sin and righteousness and judgment..." John 16:8</i></span></div><div><br /></div><div>He is also our Intercessor:</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i>"In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. </i></span><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-28129" style=" line-height: normal; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: text-top; font-size:0.65em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i>27</i></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i>And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will." Romans 8:26-27</i></span></p><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">From these scriptures and others, these are the things I've believed about the Holy Spirit: </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">1. <b>He lives inside of every believer, and He won't ever leave. </b> This was Jesus' gift to believers when He left. He Himself would not be physically present, but He would send His Spirit.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">2. <b>He will bring conviction of sin.</b> More than just our God-given conscience, which I think is part of every human's cognitive and psychosocial make-up, the Holy Spirit will prompt a person to repent of sinful behavior. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">3. <b>We can learn to ignore Him. </b> Of course, believers can harden themselves to the prompting of the Holy Spirit and learn to disregard Him. Hence we are warned not to quench the Spirit (1 Thess. 5:19).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4. <b>He brings comfort. </b> He will bring peace that passes all understanding. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5. <b>He teaches us.</b> When we read scripture, it is the Holy Spirit who enlightens our minds for understanding, which is why unbelievers don't get a whole lot out of the Bible.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6. <b>He intercedes for us.</b> This is one promise I cling to tenaciously-- that when my heart is crying out to God but can't seem to summon up any useful words, the Holy Spirit is stepping in on my behalf.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Believing all this, I've really been struggling with the feeling that the Holy Spirit is not doing His job. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In regards to His role as Comforter, I've certainly sensed that supernatural peace during difficult times in my life, such as when my Dad died. But I've hit some of the lowest points of my life during these last 9 months, and I've thought, "That whole comfort thing would be nice, Mr. Holy Spirit, sir. Any time. Any time at all." </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've also wondered why He doesn't always seem to reveal truth or convict sin, even when it's desperately needed and sought after. As I've mentioned in other posts, my husband struggles with severe depression and mental illness, and one thing he and I both pray for is wisdom, discernment, and a firm grip on reality. One facet of his mental illness is that he often blocks out and forgets things and has no recollection of doing or saying things he has done and said. Why would the Holy Spirit not bring clarity when my husband prays for it? I realize that not every prayer for healing is answered with healing, but when the illness is so intertwined with a person's emotions and spirit, how can the Spirit not step in and reveal truth? How can the Spirit allow a person to continue on in sin unknowingly when that person is praying and asking for truth and conviction of hidden sin?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All of this was brought home to me this week when my son's principal called me. Apparently my son had defaced another child's book; however, no one had actually seen him do it. The evidence was purely circumstantial. When confronted about whether or not he had done it, my son didn't say yes or no-- he said, "I don't remember if I did it." Aaahh! After two hours of grilling, talking, and listening to him--in which we talked about how God sees everything we do and how He will help us know the right thing to do-- my son still didn't know whether he needed to confess or not. Now, my son believes in Jesus and has the Holy Spirit in him. I can understand an adult being hardened to the promptings of conviction but not an 8-year-old child who generally defends his innocence and confesses his guilt fairly easily. So how could he simply not remember? Why wouldn't the Holy Spirit reveal truth to his heart? I'm terrified that he has the beginnings of the same mental illness as his father. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or maybe I just don't understand what the Holy Spirit is really supposed to do...?</span></div></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-76373844524248813432010-04-08T21:49:00.003-05:002010-04-08T22:20:01.963-05:00The Ragman... the Rest of the Story<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I know it's been one depressing post after another, but since this blog is an outlet for my angst, frustration, and discouragement... well, here comes another one.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I was really looking forward to Easter, the greatest day of the Christian year. The one day where we really should drink champagne for breakfast and party late into the night-- He is risen, death is conquered, we have hope! Of course, I wasn't expecting hors d'oeuvres at church</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> or anything, but I was hoping to have a time of celebration and unmitigated joy.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">What we got was one rather depressing, emotional show. And I was part of it, so I don't feel bad criticizing it. We emphasized Christ's suffering and gave the resurrection only passing note. We presented a dramatized version of "</span></span><a href="http://www.angelfire.com/tx2/jbrown/ragman.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The Ragman</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">" (if you are not familiar with it, you can read one version </span></span><a href="http://www.angelfire.com/tx2/jbrown/ragman.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">here</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">). Now, I will say that story is helpful in understanding just what it means for Christ to take our sins upon himself and to be a substitutionary sacrifice. But the story is misleading in many ways. First, it makes it seem as if Jesus' healing is physical, tangible, and instantaneous. The woman stops crying, the girl stops bleeding, the man gets a new arm and goes to work. Forgiveness of sin and the regeneration of one's spirit is instantaneous, but nowhere does the gospel promise immediate healing of all your ailments and troubles. Just because we are healed and whole in our spirit does not mean we will be healed and whole physically, emotionally, or mentally.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The second problem is that it seems to insinuate that after Jesus heals you, you launch out on a new life that will be free from those old problems and pain. No more tears, no more suffering, no more tribulation--hasn't he taken that all upon Himself? What a misleading thing to tell a person about Christ. What will they cling to when 2, 5, 15, 50 years down the road their world falls completely apart? When their body decays, their marriage fails, they lose their job and their house, a child rebels, and so forth? Where is the Rag Man then, to take on their pain and exchange it for joy?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The crucifixion and the resurrection was a one-time, once-for-all event, but the gospel is something we need continuously, every day, every minute, with every breath. </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> In this moment</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, His grace is sufficient for me. </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In this moment</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, my sins need cleansing and my mind renewing. </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In this moment</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, He may not heal me or take away my tears, but because I believe the gospel, I have hope that He is somehow working out all these things for His glory, my good, and for the future redemption of all creation. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So I propose we add "The Rest of the Story" to the Rag Man. Perhaps the woman continues to cry because of unexplained depression that won't go away, but the Rag Man comes and sits with her while she weeps. Perhaps the little girl, whose bandaged head has been healed, now gets shuffled from foster home to foster home, and sometime in her teens the Rag Man comes back to visit her. She remembers him from her childhood and decides to get to know him better. The man who regains his arm has a hard time finding a job, and after a few years working in a factory, he is diagnosed with cancer. The Rag Man comes and sits with him in the hospital room until he breathes his last. I don't know. I'm just too cynical to get the warm fuzzies with the original story. Give me a glimpse of the hope I can have in the midst of my pain. Show me a slice of real life, of real struggles that we cry out for Jesus to heal but He doesn't seem to.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This is the hope of Easter--Jesus is King and His Kingdom is here and is coming. "Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-11009108998184246062010-03-30T10:04:00.007-05:002010-03-30T10:30:07.877-05:00When Obedience Isn't EnoughLately I find myself saying things like, "I've done everything I can... I'm trying my best... I don't know what else to do... nothing I do seems to be good enough... why can't I make this work?..." <div><br /></div><div>I know I can't work for my salvation, but it seems I still operate under the assumption that if I work hard enough and do my best that the rest of my life should work out in the way I want it to. When it doesn't, I assume I haven't worked hard enough, or done well enough, or been obedient enough. But as my brother reminded me this weekend, this is further evidence of my utter need of the gospel. That no matter what I do, my best efforts cannot redeem situations or people. Yes, God calls us all to obedience, and the choices I make and the effort I put forth will have consequences. But I should never put my trust in my good effort as the ultimate determining factor of positive outcomes. There is no formula to a happy or blessed life. If I do <i>A</i> and <i>B</i>, there is no guarantee that it will lead to <i>C,</i> even if I really, really want it to, and even if conventional Christian advice tells me it will. I often hear the gospel preached as, "Trust in Jesus to save you from your sins... and now that you've done that, get your act together." Of course, willful sinning <b>will</b> have consequences, and the obedient Christian will avoid certain types of consequences. But some of the most devout Christians have endured some of the worst circumstances, in spite of, and even because of, their obedience. Jesus said we will have trouble in this life. Why am I surprised by it when it comes? </div><div><br /></div><div>I am and remain a sinful person. I am no longer dead in my sins, but until this world is made new, my sin and other people's sin will continue to mar and scar my life. I need the gospel, even when I'm at my most obedient and faithful. Because even then, my efforts aren't enough, and my life may not turn out the way I had hoped and planned. </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: serif; font-size: medium; font-weight: bold; "><p style="font-family: serif; text-align: justify; padding-left: 0.4em; padding-right: 0.4em; ">Not the labor of my hands</p><p style="font-family: serif; text-align: justify; padding-left: 0.4em; padding-right: 0.4em; ">Can fulfill Thy law’s demands;</p><p style="font-family: serif; text-align: justify; padding-left: 0.4em; padding-right: 0.4em; ">Could my zeal no respite know,</p><p style="font-family: serif; text-align: justify; padding-left: 0.4em; padding-right: 0.4em; ">Could my tears forever flow,</p><p style="font-family: serif; text-align: justify; padding-left: 0.4em; padding-right: 0.4em; ">All for sin could not atone;</p><p style="font-family: serif; text-align: justify; padding-left: 0.4em; padding-right: 0.4em; ">Thou must save, and Thou alone.</p><p style="font-weight: bold; font-family: serif; text-align: justify; padding-left: 0.4em; padding-right: 0.4em; "><br /></p><p style="font-weight: bold; font-family: serif; text-align: justify; padding-left: 0.4em; padding-right: 0.4em; ">Nothing in my hand I bring,</p><p style="font-weight: bold; font-family: serif; text-align: justify; padding-left: 0.4em; padding-right: 0.4em; ">Simply to the cross I cling;</p><p style="font-weight: bold; font-family: serif; text-align: justify; padding-left: 0.4em; padding-right: 0.4em; ">Naked, come to Thee for dress;</p><p style="font-weight: bold; font-family: serif; text-align: justify; padding-left: 0.4em; padding-right: 0.4em; ">Helpless look to Thee for grace;</p><p style="font-weight: bold; font-family: serif; text-align: justify; padding-left: 0.4em; padding-right: 0.4em; ">Foul, I to the fountain fly;</p><p style="font-weight: bold; font-family: serif; text-align: justify; padding-left: 0.4em; padding-right: 0.4em; ">Wash me, Savior, or I die.</p><p style="font-weight: bold; font-family: serif; text-align: justify; padding-left: 0.4em; padding-right: 0.4em; "><br /></p><p style="font-weight: bold; font-family: serif; text-align: justify; padding-left: 0.4em; padding-right: 0.4em; ">~Augustus Toplady, "Rock of Ages"</p></span><div><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-8486025209417079142010-03-05T23:11:00.007-06:002010-03-05T23:32:14.003-06:00Is It God... or Indigestion?<div>"I feel the Lord is leading me to..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"God spoke to me..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I feel this stirring in my heart to..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I really felt like God was telling me to..."</div><div><br /></div><div>I used to talk this way. It was a dressed-up way to describe how I "felt" after a certain time of searching the scriptures and prayer. But after making some choices based on what I thought "God would want" that turned out to be poor decisions, I stopped pretending that it was really God calling the shots. Now I cringe when I hear other Christians talk like this, as if they had audible conversations with God all the time and could discern His "will for their lives" with ease.</div><div><br /></div><div>But how do we know when God is really "speaking" to us or "leading" us in a certain direction? Surely not on feeling alone. There is something to be said for the peace the Spirit is supposed to give us. But sometimes we have to make decisions with unease in our hearts, because none of the options available to us are pleasant ones.</div><div><br /></div><div>Surely we should rely on godly counsel from close friends, family, and advisors. But even they are not infallible and can give bad counsel, especially if they dispense judgment preceded with one of the above statements.</div><div><br /></div><div>Let's face it, sometimes we're just not going to know what to do, and it's pointless to sit around waiting until we "feel the Lord leading us" in a certain direction. It may never happen-- because He never promises it will. He promises to never leave us nor forsake us, but He never promises a beam of light from heaven pointing out the road up ahead or a big celestial sign saying, "Turn here. Do this."</div><div><br /></div><div>The next time someone says to me, "I feel the Lord is leading me to do <i>xyz</i>," I'm sorely tempted to say, "Are you sure it's not just indigestion?"</div><div><br /></div><div>***P.S. I just finished reading this post and thought I should add that I don't think we should discredit feelings entirely. I've made that mistake as well. Feelings can be fickle, but God created us to have feelings for a reason. Even though they can be tainted, twisted, and inaccurate, they can also be pointing us in the right direction. There is something to be said for a "gut feeling." More on this another time...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-86239113728955376532010-02-26T09:32:00.004-06:002010-02-26T11:01:41.996-06:00What Happens When We Take the Bible "Literally"?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Every church I've been to in the Evangelical tradition claims that they make the Bible the authority on deciding matters of faith and godliness; indeed, on every matter in life. </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Sola scriptura</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> and all that. But as </span><a href="http://www.ntwrightpage.com/Wright_Bible_Authoritative.htm"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">N.T. Wright so brilliantly points out</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, when a church claims that the Bible is the ultimate authority, they often mean something else entirely: </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></div><blockquote><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">First, there is an implied, and quite unwarranted, positivism: we imagine that we are ‘reading the text, straight’, and that if somebody disagrees with us it must be because they, unlike we ourselves, are secretly using ‘presuppositions’ of this or that sort.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This is simply na</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">ï</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">ve, and actually astonishingly arrogant and dangerous.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It fuels the second point, which is that evangelicals often use the phrase ‘authority of scripture’ when they </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">mean</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> the authority of evangelical, or Protestant, theology, since the assumption is made that we (evangelicals, or Protestants) are the ones who know and believe what the Bible is saying.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And, though there is more than a grain of truth in such claims, they are by no means the whole truth, and to imagine that they are is to move from theology to ideology.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">If we are not careful, the phrase ‘authority of scripture’ can, by such routes, come to mean simply ‘the authority of evangelical tradition, as opposed to Catholic or rationalist ones.’" </span></span></div></blockquote><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We say we take the Bible as our authority, but we really mean we take our </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">interpretation</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> of the Bible as our authority, all the while thinking, as Wright says, we are "reading the text, straight."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">That in and of itself can lead to lots of problems, but the problems are further complicated when a church (or group or person) claims to take the Bible "literally." Any good Bible scholar will tell you that you need to take the time, place, and cultural contexts into consideration when examining the Biblical text and how it might apply to us today. Yet in our zealousness for "the Word" and its "authority," we sometimes try to make ancient words fit our modern world in ways that are not only clumsy but harmful.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I came across </span><a href="http://nolongerquivering.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">a blog</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> the other day from a woman who has left the so-called "Quiverfull" movement-- the idea that the man is the ruler of the house and the family, that the woman's job is to have babies and as many as possible, and--here's the kicker-- that this is the only way to obediently serve God in our roles as men and women. There's </span><a href="http://nolongerquivering.com/2009/06/09/nlq-faq-what-is-quiverfull/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">more to the philosophy</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> than that, and different families apply it differently, but patriarchy with absolute female submission and no birth control are the distinguishing features as I understand it. (This philosophy is not all that foreign to me, as it closely resembles the philosophy my husband and I subscribed to when we first got married. Somewhere along the way we discovered it was a disastrous way to run a marriage, and we're still dealing with the fall-out in counseling years later.) </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">What struck me about this woman's story was she was so sure she and her husband were following the Bible, that even though her husband abused her and the children, she stoically carried on for years, all in the name of obedience. It took her oldest daughter's attempt at suicide to finally decide there was something wrong with the "Biblical" way they were living. It's easy from our outside perspective to say, "Well, obviously, God didn't mean to submit to abuse." But, if we are to take a completely literal, take-the-text-as-it-is approach, we'd have to come to the same conclusion she did-- she would have to submit to his authority regardless of what he does. We would have to take the stance that the only Biblically-allowable reason for divorce would be marital unfaithfulness in its strictest sense. To put it bluntly, women who get the crap beat out of them (whether physically or emotionally) and divorce their husbands would be sinning, if we take the Bible literally.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I found another case of "literal-Bible-reading-gone-bad" on </span><a href="http://lauriemo.blogspot.com/2010/02/in-which-i-speak-of-unspeakable.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">another blog</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, which told of a recent death of one child and hospitalization of another, caused by their parents disciplining (i.e. beating) them. They were following a "Christian" parenting method that advocates beating your child into submission with plastic tubing. Horrendous, you say? What about a literal interpretation of Proverbs 13:24, 22:15, and 23:13-14? "Punish him with the rod and save his soul from death." </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">These parents took that literally and beat their child to physical death.</span> </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Mortifying, you say? But is that not what a literal interpretation of the Biblical text gives us?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Our initial reaction may be, "Yes, those are extreme examples, but those folks were misapplying the Bible. That's not what those verses mean..." Ah, but there's the trouble. Our interpretation of those verses do not lead us to the same conclusions as their interpretations did. But they are making the Bible their "ultimate authority," just as we claim to do.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"But we have to take the whole context of the Bible," we say. "We can take it literally within its place in all of scripture." Think of the abused woman, though. What comfort or direction would she get from 1 Peter 3:5-6? Sarah sucked it up and dealt with it, honey, so you can too! (Not to say that Abraham beat Sarah, but he certainly abused her by lying about her not being his wife, thus making her vulnerable to sexual abuse.)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Let's be honest-- we arrive at many of our positions not from </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">literal</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> reading of the text, but from </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">inferring</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> things from the text, from the nature of God, and from the actions of Jesus during His time on earth. For example, the Bible says husbands are to love their wives as Christ loves the church. It does </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">not</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> say that women only have to submit when their husbands are loving. It just says submit. But we would not (I hope) counsel a woman getting beat up by her husband to submit to him and take the beatings night after night (although I know, sadly, that this IS the counsel many women get from churches). We have no specific, literal verse to back us up on counseling this woman to leave. We just point to the loving nature of God who despises violence against the innocent and who created marriage to be mutual submission, and we go with our gut feeling knowing that abuse like that is just plain wrong. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I use these examples because they are a little more clear-cut, but the principle applies to other areas of Bible reading. We post-Enlightenment Western types are big into being literal. </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(What does it mean? Well, what does it say? It means what it says, of course!)</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Then we like to pick and choose which parts we are going to take literally and which we are going to consider symbolism and allegory. (Side note-- ever find it funny that so many Christians take Genesis and Revelation literally while chalking most of Jesus' own words up to allegory?) We lose sight of the fact that the Bible is an ancient document written in a completely different time. While God may have designed it to be instrumental in the life of the believer and the Church, the Bible is </span><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">not</span></b></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> our ultimate authority. </span><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">God is our ultimate authority. </span></b></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> We can't read the Bible and extricate our understanding and application of it from the work of the Holy Spirit and the counsel and wisdom of the Church universal and historical.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We're going to get it wrong part of the time, no doubt about it. But I'm starting to think we ought to be done with this "taking the Bible literally" nonsense. </span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-73362587387114555062010-02-25T00:31:00.006-06:002010-02-25T00:54:10.359-06:00Frustrated Rant from a Tired ChristianI had made plans to jump back into blogging with a great, insightful, and possibly even witty post about Protestants observing Lent-- those who see it as works salvation versus those who see it as a valuable spiritual discipline, etc. (And of course, those of us, like me, who first saw it as legalism, but then later thought it might be a really cool, spiritual thing to do, but didn't want to observe it too rigidly lest I be considered merely jumping on the latest Protestant "back to orthodoxy" bandwagon... ) As it turns out, my spiritual discipline muscle is incredibly weak, and Ash Wednesday came and went with few thoughts and little action. So it was all a mute point, really. I know I ought to be exercising some sort of spiritual discipline more regularly than I currently am doing. In my defense, I did look for an Ash Wednesday service to get me "in the mood" for being spiritual for the next 40 days, but I had worship team practice at my own church (which, as you might have guessed, does not observe Lent). <div><br /></div><div>Yes, I know, I know, one doesn't need to wait until the church calendar reaches a certain day to make a concerted effort towards prayer, fasting, and charity. I guess I was kind of hoping something symbolic would help jump-start my wimpy, puttering faith. I need more than a spiritual cup of coffee-- I need the Christian equivalent of crack. I'm so discouraged. I hate going to church, but I like seeing our friends. I hate listening to sermons, but I can't kick the nagging feeling of guilt that our family needs to sit there, for some reason or another. I might bring up a side point in Sunday School class on occasion, but I've lost the drive to debate theology even on a friendly level. In short, I'm just showing up and going through the motions. The songs don't mean much to me. The sermons, if I can pay attention long enough, usually frustrate me. Does this make me a bad Christian? I don't know. I suppose I don't really care.</div><div><br /></div><div>No... that's not true. I do care; otherwise I wouldn't bother blogging about it. I want a solution. I want to go to church and like it! I want to sing to God and MEAN it! I want to pray and actually be engaged mentally. I want to read the Bible and believe it. And, most of all, I want to stop thinking cynical, pessimistic thoughts about my fellow Christians. When someone expresses a joyous, heartfelt trust in God, I want to be able to say "Amen!" rather than have the strong desire to smack them upside the head for being naive and platitudinous. </div><div><br /></div><div>No answers here. Just needed to vent.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-21471369884767983842009-12-15T08:11:00.006-06:002009-12-15T10:42:56.903-06:0012 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 "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Respectable-Sins-Confronting-We-Tolerate/dp/1600061400">Respectable Sins" by Jerry Bridges</a>, which was very convicting and very useful. The next book we have just started on is "Twelve Extraordinary Women" by John MacArthur.<div><br /></div><div>Ugh.</div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>I consider myself a "<a href="http://www.feministsforlife.org/">pro-life feminist</a>," 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."</div><div><br /></div><div>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 <i>Christian</i> 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.)</div><div><br /></div><div>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. <i>That kind of thing can spoil the best of women.</i>" (Emphasis mine.)</div><div><br /></div><div>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 <i>increase</i> Eve's pain in childbirth, not <i>introduce</i> 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 <i>know</i> 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 <b>when your speculation cannot be clearly delineated from the facts, then that is poor teaching in my mind.</b></div><div><br /></div><div>My biggest gripe, and the most disturbing, is how MacArthur portrays a woman's relationship with God-- <i>He doesn't</i>! 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 <i>for God</i>. 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 <i>for her</i>. </div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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 <i>only</i> way we glorify God as women, nor do I even think it is the most important way. </div><div><br /></div><div>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 <i>was</i> 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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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 <i>Christian</i>, 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 <i>wife</i> and as a <i>mother</i>, not as a <i>Christian</i>. I assume for him, being a <i>Christian woman</i> is synonymous with <i>wife and mother</i> 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. =)</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-81048129073732097542009-12-14T19:55:00.005-06:002009-12-14T20:35:04.527-06:00Sparrows in the Snow<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">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.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">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.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Of course I immediately thought of the verse in Matthew 6:26: “<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">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?</span>” And also Matthew 10:29-31: "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">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. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows."</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">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. <i>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>(I obviously was ignoring the parts in the passages exhorting me not to worry.)</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">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.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">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?</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">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 <a href="http://www.teamworld.org/">TEAM</a>. (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. </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">"He has filled the hungry with good things </span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> but has sent the rich away empty. "</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Mary's Magnificat, Luke 2:52</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-89140907804278904792009-12-13T21:02:00.005-06:002009-12-13T21:51:42.706-06:00Anne Rice's "The Road to Cana"Earlier this year I posted a <a href="http://slopesitter.blogspot.com/2009/06/thoughts-on-anne-rices-christ-lord-out.html">blog</a> on Anne Rice's book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Christ-Lord-Out-Egypt-Novel/dp/0345492730/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1260761489&sr=8-1">"Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt."</a> 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. "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Christ-Lord-Road-Anne-Rice/dp/1400078946/ref=pd_sim_b_1">Christ the Lord: The Road to Cana"</a> has since made its way to the list of books that have significantly influenced my faith for life.<div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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:</div><div><br /></div><div><i>"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!"</i></div><div><br /></div><div>And later: <i>"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?"</i></div><div><br /></div><div>It gets better, but I obviously can't quote the whole book here.</div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-66702954920516648292009-11-24T23:14:00.005-06:002009-11-24T23:26:37.465-06:00With God All Things Are Possible... but Not Guaranteed<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">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.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">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?</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">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.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">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.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">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.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Just because God <i>can</i> doesn't mean He <i>will</i>. Just because He is <i>able</i> doesn't mean He <i>should</i>. 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.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-13945489598318463552009-11-03T11:00:00.013-06:002009-11-03T11:53:18.661-06:00Psychosis and the Spirit-- Christians and Depression<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">“</span></i><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman, serif;"><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? </span></i></span></span></span><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman, serif;"><span><span style="font-weight: normal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">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</span></i></span></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">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?</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">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?</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">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? </span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">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.</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-8509699374872794632009-10-23T20:48:00.003-05:002009-10-23T21:12:46.178-05:00The Insidiousness of SinI've been reading "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Respectable-Sins-Confronting-We-Tolerate/dp/1600061400">Respectable Sins: Confronting the Sins We Tolerate" by Jerry Bridges</a> 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. <div><br /></div><div>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.<div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-49913599875442165592009-09-18T11:17:00.006-05:002009-09-18T12:43:11.362-05:00A Gentle RebukeThe 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. <div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-35729158660824617392009-09-16T21:30:00.003-05:002009-09-16T21:58:31.690-05:00Healthcare and the ChurchWhen I started this blog, I had intended to address political topics once in awhile. I obviously haven't done that. I used to be a political junkie of sorts, but I've grown so weary of trying to keep up with the current debates and legislation. Politics will never save us, obviously, so it's hard for me to continually devote time and energy to the process. Still, I think it's important for Christians to be engaged, thoughtful citizens.<div><br /></div><div>But one doesn't have to be paying much attention to politics to know that the healthcare debate is a-raging and will continue for some time. I honestly don't know what to make of the mess. Our current system is broken, no doubt about it, but I don't know the best way to fix it. </div><div><br /></div><div>My husband is a nurse practitioner whose patients are generally low income and usually do not have health insurance. It saddens me to hear of patients who have treatable medical conditions that go untreated because they can't afford to buy the medicine, have the procedures done, and so forth. Thus a treatable problem deteriorates into even more severe medical issues. Then it's only a matter of time until they have a heart attack or a stroke or some other severe medical event that lands them in the E.R. (or they attempt suicide because they can no longer endure the pain. It happens far more regularly than we would like to admit.) I don't think anyone would dispute the fact that preventative medicine is far less costly both in terms of money and quality of life.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've heard conservative Christians put up a lot of resistance to Obama's healthcare plan, but I haven't heard a lot of alternatives offered. I don't want to debate the pros and cons of nationalized healthcare. I do want to know why we accuse Obama of trying to covertly fund abortions by withholding healthcare from the elderly, but we don't seem to give a rip about the fact that every day, in our communities, children don't check-ups when they need them, adults don't treat their diabetes because they can't afford it, and immigrants get abysmal care just because they can't speak English fluently. Churches could find lots of ways to minister to their community in the healthcare field-- host health screening clinics, help fund non-profit clinics to low income families, help families pay for medicine and doctor visits, teach community health classes, pay for someone to get their cavities filled, and so forth. In general, I've seen Christians rally together to help support someone in a time of a sudden medical crises (cancer, car accident, etc.), but there doesn't seem to be a lot of thought going into ministering to people in preventative medicine. </div><div><br /></div><div>Obviously, this is a big charge, but it's one I think the church could handle. Our community hosts a huge dental clinic once a year-- they use the sports arena, and dentists from around the area volunteer to see people for free. They treat what they can at the arena, and more serious cases are scheduled for follow-up. The place is filled to overflowing with people who couldn't afford to see a dentist all year long. </div><div><br /></div><div>I just get so frustrated that we either 1) keep waiting for the government to save us or 2) criticize the government every time it attempts to help the people we are content to ignore.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-73559724653594353852009-09-10T08:50:00.010-05:002009-09-18T12:45:10.449-05:00Essential Elements of a Church Service<div>My brother always joked that he was a Presbyterian dressed in Southern Baptist clothing. He even pastored a Southern Baptist church for a time. But he and his family recently joined a PCA church, and they couldn't be happier.</div><div><br /></div><div>I spent a few years in a Presbyterian church, sandwiched in between my Baptist and independent Bible church years. I really grew to love the liturgy. I suppose if one grew up with it or did it long enough, it would get dry and stale. But I loved the intentionality of it and the "meatiness" it built into the service. If the sermon stunk, at least you had Bible reading, prayer, confession of sin, and worship all built in. I realize that many churches have moved away from liturgy because it was becoming a hindrance for some people-- it lacked spontaneity, it seemed too rigid and contrived, and so forth. People wanted to leave room for the "Spirit to move," or, at the very least, the freedom to mix it up on occasion. <br /></div><div><br /></div><div>But lack of liturgy becomes its own liturgy. We still sing <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">x</span> number of songs, do announcements, do <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">x</span> number of songs, take the offering, throw in some quick prayers, have a sermon, quick prayer to wrap it up, then leave. Isn't that a structure built in to every worship service? Can that not also become stale?</div><div><br /></div><div>I have privately bemoaned many churches' pitiful lack of meaningful prayer during worship services for some time now. We tend to use prayer as a filler and a transitionary device: "Song is done, thus let us pray for 30 seconds to give the pastor time to get to the pulpit to preach." I remember a few months back when one of our assistant pastors prayed, he actually <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">prayed</span>. He prayed for the world, he prayed for us, he confessed corporate sin on our behalf, and he took his good old time with it. I started crying, it was so refreshing.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>[Original post edited here to remove disrespectful attitude towards a specific person.] Another essential element we are missing from our church services is SILENCE. To corporately allow God time to speak to our hearts and allow time for us to confess and worship him in silence is a valuable thing that is often overlooked.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know many of these issues are a matter of preference. There is no right or wrong way to order a service (well, there may be some wrong ways!). My pet peeves may be someone else's favorite part of the service. For instance, I can't stand the "tinkly piano music" that often accompanies prayer and the last minute of a sermon as the pastor gets really serious and starts hammering home his point. I'm a musician, and my mind immediately focuses on the music, not what is being said. I also know that music is a great manipulator of emotions, and what one might mistake for the Holy Spirit was really the swelling transition from the minor sixth back to the root chord. (Or, to quote <a href="http://www.derekwebb.com/">Derek Webb</a>, "I don't want the Spirit, I want the kick drum.") But other people like that tinkly piano music. It helps them focus their thoughts and examine their hearts. If it's doing something for somebody, well, then, I can suck it up and deal with it.</div><div><br /></div><div>But opinions and preferences aside, there has to be some elements that are essential to every worship service. I'm rather ignorant as far as church history and liturgy in this regard, so these are just things that I assume are important: worship and confession through prayer, worship and confession through song and silence, worship through offerings (monetary or otherwise), the reading and exposition of scripture, and the edification of believers. How those things are accomplished could certainly vary. And I'm probably missing some things.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, what elements do you think are essential to a church service? I'd love to hear your thoughts.</div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-12890725972057310152009-08-26T11:04:00.009-05:002009-08-26T11:52:21.068-05:00Women's Bible Studies-- All Fluff and No Substance?I don't like going to Bible study. There, I said it. <div><br /></div><div>I love studying the Bible. I love getting together with fellow believers to examine, learn from, and apply God's word. I love fellowshipping and praying for one another. But when it's time to sign up for another "Women's Bible Study" at church, I sigh, I shake my head, I look for excuses, I hem and haw. Sometimes I cave and go. But other times, like this year, I just decide not to bother.</div><div><br /></div><div>Why? First of all, what is generally meant by "Bible study" is really "doing a workbook that references the Bible occasionally." The times the Bible is referenced, it is often taken out of context and molded to fit the idea the author has formulated herself. It's poor exegesis, which leads to incorrect application. In addition to the workbook, "Bible study" involves watching a DVD where the author speaks to us, and through personal stories and a few more verses pulled in for good measure, we are supposed to feel warm and fuzzy. If the author/speaker is really good, women may even get teared up. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not saying these studies aren't helpful; on the contrary, I'm sure many women are learning things that are, for the most part, true. The sticky issues of exegesis could be easily corrected and discussed in the course of the group study. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">What bothers me the most is that this is all many Christian women know-- how to study </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">someone else's <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">study</span> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">about</span> the Bible, rather than how to study the Bible itself. </span> As a result, I fear many women are missing out on the depth and riches of scripture because they are too afraid or just don't know how to get started without their well-dressed, dynamic female author/speaker to lead them on the journey.</div><div><br /></div><div>(Two caveats here-- I'm not just referring to a particular female author/speaker, although some are worse than others in terms of poor exegesis and application. I'm referring to the whole body of curriculum generally used for Women's Ministries in the U.S. Also, I can't speak for men's Bible studies as to the quality or substance, though I'm assuming they can run into the same pitfalls as women's studies. I will say, though, that at least at the churches I've been involved in, a much higher percentage of women participate in Bible studies than men do, so while it may have it's problems, at least women are making an effort to grow and learn.)</div><div><br /></div><div>For a new believer, these studies can be a good way to ease into the practice of getting into God's word. They can guide and explain scriptures and help someone process it. But we shouldn't get stuck there. We have to learn to read and think through scripture with the Holy Spirit as our guide. Of course we often need outside help to clarify and explain scripture, and I am all for using commentaries, concordances, dictionaries, and other study aids. We can't fully grasp scripture without understanding its original context and setting, and the average person doesn't know beans about the 1st century world, pre- or post-exilic Judaic culture, or what have you. </div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe that's part of the problem. Most churches expect too little from its members as far as what they should know. We all should be eager theologians, but often what we hear from the pulpit is, "I won't bore you with the theology here" as they glaze over a really significant point. Women tend to shy away from theology often because it is seen as a "man's domain." If women can't be pastors or elders (as in my denomination), then they are never challenged to attain that level of Biblical knowledge. That is a terrible shame.</div><div><br /></div><div>So we are stuck with frivolous fluff that has more to do with how we "feel" about a certain passage of scripture rather than what it says. We rarely dive into a whole book of the Bible, or even an extended passage. We can only think in bits and pieces. (When we tried doing the book of Hebrews, the women did amazingly well thinking through difficult passages, but they voted at the end of the study that they didn't really like it and wanted to go back to the workbook/DVD format. !!!!) We rate the value of a study based on how many emotional nerves it hit; the more the author seems to be speaking to an area women can identify with, the more they feel they are "getting something out of it." They don't realize they are feeding off of regurgitated blessings and insights from someone else rather than seeking it directly from scripture.</div><div><br /></div><div>It wouldn't be fair to categorize all women's Bible studies this way, and I know several other women that feel my frustration about these types of studies. But the vast majority eat them up like they are chocolate, scrapbooking, and chick-flicks all rolled into one (pardon the gross female stereotypes!). Add to that the fact that the Christian publishing industry knows how to market these babies with amazing demographical precision. I just feel like screaming, "There's so much more, gals, there's so much more!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Thoughts?</div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8986634090859680345.post-61148961857874566322009-07-30T23:08:00.004-05:002009-07-30T23:54:19.692-05:00Man vs. Nature- A Lesson from the Dust BowlMy Daddy was a dry land wheat farmer in the northeastern plains of Colorado for over 2 decades, just as his father was before him. Growing up on a farm, I always swore that I would never marry a farmer. Not because I didn't like the dirt or the hard work. I just wasn't fond of the gamble involved. My Dad poured his blood, sweat, and tears--quite literally--into a small, dry piece of land, hoping to wrench enough life out of it to make enough income to live on for the next year. We watched the skies, praying for rain while the wheat was growing, praying for dry weather when it was time for harvest, and praying that no hail would come in the interim. Most years, nothing seemed to go right for my Dad. If it wasn't the weather, it was the old equipment breaking down. Nothing was ever easy and very little seemed to go right.<div><br /></div><div>What a precarious relationship exists between man and nature.</div><div><br /></div><div>I recently finished reading a book a friend lent me about the Dust Bowl called <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Worst Hard Time,</span> by Timothy Egan. I've always known the Dust Bowl was an extremely difficult time; in fact, I remember my grandparents telling me stories about it, although they were on the fringes of the area actually called the "Dust Bowl." But this book was rather shocking to read. It's hard to picture millions of tons of dirt blowing across several states-- even harder to imagine standing in the middle of it as it blew over your house, your fields, and your livestock. I can't fathom watching every sign of life around you wither and die or be buried under a mountain of sand. Year after dry, dirty, hopeless year. </div><div><br /></div><div>A severe drought exacerbated the problem, but the weather was not to blame--humans were. Irresponsible farming methods, short-sighted government plans for homesteading, and record harvests to aid the war effort left the land vulnerable and exposed. Interestingly enough, the book pointed out that not everyone believed humans were responsible for the crisis. Some said it was just a cyclical change in the climate. Some just said it was the drought. It couldn't be helped-- it was governed by a force stronger than humans, and thus humans couldn't have caused it nor could they change it. Some thought it was a punishment of God.</div><div><br /></div><div>One can't help but notice the similarities between the rhetoric of that time and all the continuing debates about climate change today. Many Christians still feel reluctant to admit that humans have affected our world in significant, harmful ways or that we really have any power to undo some of the damage. The earth has gone through climate change before, they say, and this is just another one of those cycles. We had nothing to do with it. Therefore we have no compelling reason to change our behavior, especially if it's going to cost us.</div><div><br /></div><div>Of course, many Christians see the need to be better stewards of this earth and are thus working to change our habits and our policies. I believe Christians can be leaders in this endeavor, and should be, because we see the value of both creation itself and the human lives within that creation. Many policies that aim to help the environment put human welfare at risk. Policy makers during the Dust Bowl faced similar questions. Should we encourage the people to stay and establish conservation practices to save the land? Or is it so far gone that we should move all the people out? Where should they go? How will they live? Some people thought the government had no business bailing out the "Okies." Others thought the government didn't do enough. </div><div><br /></div><div>There were no easy answers then, and there are no easy answers now. But after reading that book, I realize that the fragility of our current climate situation is not overstated, as sometimes I tend to think. Just because we don't see all of the effects of it now doesn't mean we should continue to rip out every last fragment of prairie grass to plant a crop, so to speak. The consequences don't come until later. But we have to make decisions today, with foresight informed by science and a sense of stewardship. </div><div><br /></div><div>The land, after all, is a gift, and it is our livelihood. Even if it seems a little bit beyond our control. Even if it lets us down, year after year. "The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein" (Psalm 24:1). </div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0