Slope Sitter

Election 2012 on the Horizon: A Plea for Peaceful Politics

2011-08-29T22:20:00.002-05:00

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.

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?

I'm guilty of such hypocrisy, much to my shame. It is 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.

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?

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.

Dangerous Thoughts or Pertinent Points?

2011-08-29T21:23:00.000-05:00

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.

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.

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?

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.

And so, I keep asking.

Apologizing for Hypocrisy

2011-06-19T11:00:00.001-05:00

I 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.

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.

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.

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.

Julia Sweeney's "Letting Go of God"

2011-04-11T10:05:00.003-05:00

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.

You can see most of her monologue via clips on YouTube, but I highly recommend purchasing the DVD.

http://www.juliasweeney.com/letting_go_mini/

Out of Misery and Into Joy

2011-03-01T22:53:00.004-06:00

It 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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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."

And wonder of wonders, God hasn't struck me down yet. Who knew.

Apathetic About Apathy

2010-12-19T21:52:00.006-06:00

The 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.

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.

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.

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.

Illness, Dysfunction, and/or Sin-- Getting Help and Owning Up

2010-07-04T17:41:00.007-05:00

I've blogged about depression and mental illness before and made mention of it in comments and so forth. I've struggled to know what role the Holy Spirit plays in a person with depression. 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.

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.

First, there is illness. 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.

That leads to the next area-- dysfunction. 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.

Finally, there's plain old sin. 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.

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.

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).

Where in the World is the Holy Spirit?

2010-05-08T12:40:00.004-05:00

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:

"And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Counselor to be with you forever— ¹⁷the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you.... [He] will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you." John 14:16-17, 26

"When he comes, he will convict the world of guilt in regard to sin and righteousness and judgment..." John 16:8

He is also our Intercessor:

"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. ²⁷And 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

From these scriptures and others, these are the things I've believed about the Holy Spirit:

1. He lives inside of every believer, and He won't ever leave. This was Jesus' gift to believers when He left. He Himself would not be physically present, but He would send His Spirit.

2. He will bring conviction of sin. 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.

3. We can learn to ignore Him. 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).

4. He brings comfort. He will bring peace that passes all understanding.

5. He teaches us. 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.

6. He intercedes for us. 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.

Believing all this, I've really been struggling with the feeling that the Holy Spirit is not doing His job.

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."

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?

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.

Or maybe I just don't understand what the Holy Spirit is really supposed to do...?

The Ragman... the Rest of the Story

2010-04-08T21:49:00.003-05:00

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.

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 or anything, but I was hoping to have a time of celebration and unmitigated joy.

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 "The Ragman" (if you are not familiar with it, you can read one version here). 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.

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?

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. In this moment, His grace is sufficient for me. In this moment, my sins need cleansing and my mind renewing. In this moment, 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.

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.

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."

When Obedience Isn't Enough

2010-03-30T10:04:00.007-05:00

Lately 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?..."

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 A and B, there is no guarantee that it will lead to C, 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 will 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?

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.

Not the labor of my hands

Can fulfill Thy law’s demands;

Could my zeal no respite know,

Could my tears forever flow,

All for sin could not atone;

Thou must save, and Thou alone.

Nothing in my hand I bring,

Simply to the cross I cling;

Naked, come to Thee for dress;

Helpless look to Thee for grace;

Foul, I to the fountain fly;

Wash me, Savior, or I die.

~Augustus Toplady, "Rock of Ages"

Is It God... or Indigestion?

2010-03-05T23:11:00.007-06:00

"I feel the Lord is leading me to..."

"God spoke to me..."

"I feel this stirring in my heart to..."

"I really felt like God was telling me to..."

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.

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.

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.

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."

The next time someone says to me, "I feel the Lord is leading me to do xyz," I'm sorely tempted to say, "Are you sure it's not just indigestion?"

***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...

What Happens When We Take the Bible "Literally"?

2010-02-26T09:32:00.004-06:00

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. Sola scriptura and all that. But as N.T. Wright so brilliantly points out, when a church claims that the Bible is the ultimate authority, they often mean something else entirely:

"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. This is simply naïve, and actually astonishingly arrogant and dangerous. It fuels the second point, which is that evangelicals often use the phrase ‘authority of scripture’ when they mean 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. 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. 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.’"

We say we take the Bible as our authority, but we really mean we take our interpretation of the Bible as our authority, all the while thinking, as Wright says, we are "reading the text, straight."

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.

I came across a blog 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 more to the philosophy 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.)

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.

I found another case of "literal-Bible-reading-gone-bad" on another blog, 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." These parents took that literally and beat their child to physical death. Mortifying, you say? But is that not what a literal interpretation of the Biblical text gives us?

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.

"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.)

Let's be honest-- we arrive at many of our positions not from literal reading of the text, but from inferring 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 not 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.

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. (What does it mean? Well, what does it say? It means what it says, of course!) 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 not our ultimate authority. God is our ultimate authority. 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.

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.

Frustrated Rant from a Tired Christian

2010-02-25T00:31:00.006-06:00

I 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).

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.

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.

No answers here. Just needed to vent.

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

2009-12-15T08:11:00.006-06:00

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

Ugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sparrows in the Snow

2009-12-14T19:55:00.005-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He has filled the hungry with good things

but has sent the rich away empty. "

Mary's Magnificat, Luke 2:52

Anne Rice's "The Road to Cana"

2009-12-13T21:02:00.005-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2009-11-24T23:14:00.005-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

Psychosis and the Spirit-- Christians and Depression

2009-11-03T11:00:00.013-06:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Insidiousness of Sin

2009-10-23T20:48:00.003-05:00

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

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

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

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

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

A Gentle Rebuke

2009-09-18T11:17:00.006-05:00

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

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

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

Healthcare and the Church

2009-09-16T21:30:00.003-05:00

When 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Essential Elements of a Church Service

2009-09-10T08:50:00.010-05:00

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.

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.

But lack of liturgy becomes its own liturgy. We still sing x number of songs, do announcements, do x 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?

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 prayed. 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.

[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.

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 Derek Webb, "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.

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.

So, what elements do you think are essential to a church service? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Women's Bible Studies-- All Fluff and No Substance?

2009-08-26T11:04:00.009-05:00

I don't like going to Bible study. There, I said it.

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.

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.

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. What bothers me the most is that this is all many Christian women know-- how to study someone else's study about the Bible, rather than how to study the Bible itself. 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.

(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.)

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.

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.

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.

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!"

Thoughts?

Man vs. Nature- A Lesson from the Dust Bowl

2009-07-30T23:08:00.004-05:00

My 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.

What a precarious relationship exists between man and nature.

I recently finished reading a book a friend lent me about the Dust Bowl called The Worst Hard Time, 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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).

Homosexuality-- A Plank/Speck Analysis

2009-06-30T22:36:00.004-05:00

Today I read Mark Galli's article in the July 2009 edition of Christianity Today entitled, "Is the Gay Marriage Debate Over?" Quick summary-- he concludes that, despite the church's hypocrisy in regards to marriage, we still need to fight for traditional marriage, even if it feels like we are losing.

This is an issue that I've wrestled with in my mind and come to no satisfying conclusions. A few months ago, a Christian friend of mine (who recognized my liberal leanings and was curious about them) asked me to explain where I stood on the issue of homosexuality in our culture and help her think through some of the issues. Here's what I wrote:

Homosexuality is a difficult issue for the Christian who wants to honor God's standard of righteousness and at the same time love people with Christ-like love. It is a balance none of us can master, let alone hope to get right the majority of the time. Every point I can think of on either side of this debate can immediately be countered with an equally valid concern. I can't make many statements in regard to how Christians should approach homosexuality without qualifying it with a, "Yes, but..." Needless to say, I don't have this figured out at all.

With that in mind, here's some thoughts.

The Bible calls homosexuality a sin-- and by homosexuality, I would consider it to mean homosexual acts, not just the temptation. We all are tempted by various sins, but it only becomes a sin when we give into it. Some Christians try to err on the side of love so much that they no longer call homosexuality a sin. I don't think that is the loving thing to do-- to ignore the Bible so as to not make someone feel bad. However, it is high time the evangelical church undergo a "plank/speck analysis" in regards to our condemnation of homosexuality versus our condemnation of other sins. 1 Corinthians 6:8-10 says homosexual offenders will not inherit the kingdom of God, but neither will thieves, the greedy, slanderers or swindlers-- in which case, we're all in trouble. Romans 1 speaks of God giving people over to their shameful lust, and we point to that as an example of how homosexuality is a more debauched, depraved sin. Yet we forget to go on to chapter 2, which says, "You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge the other, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things. Now we know that God's judgment against those who do such things is based on truth. So when you, a mere man, pass judgment on them and yet do the same things, do you think you will escape God's judgment? Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, tolerance and patience, not realizing that God's kindness leads you toward repentance?"

We often think Sodom and Gomorrah's destruction was due to the homosexual acts that were rampant in the city. But Ezekiel 16:49-50 says, "'Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy. They were haughty and did detestable things before me. Therefore I did away with them as you have seen." If the story of Sodom and Gomorrah was included to be an example of the consequences of errant sexual behavior, then Lot--who offered up his virgin daughters to the mob-- should have been turned into a pillar of salt or burned up with the rest. But what does God say? Arrogant, overfed, unconcerned with the poor and needy. Yes, they did other "detestable things," but God's main indictment was against how they treated the poor while they stuffed themselves with excess. That could very easily be God's indictment against the church in America, yet we seem to lack the fire and drive to go after these sins like we do homosexuality. When have we circulated a petition to end our arrogance? When have we rallied our fellow Christians to support legislation in favor of the poor and needy? This is not to say that we have to ignore homosexuality, but we certainly need to put it in perspective.

Perhaps one of the reasons we argue so vehemently against homosexuality is because we perceive it to be a threat to the institution of marriage. Again, a little plank/speck analysis. Look at our abysmal divorce rates. Was that caused by homosexuality? No. That was caused by heterosexuals giving up on their commitments and taking the easy road out, aided in part by no-fault divorce laws that let people get divorced on a whim ("irreconcilable differences"). It is easier to get out of a marriage than it is to get out of a business contract. That is not the fault of homosexuals.

Perhaps it's because we as Christians know that God ordained marriage between one man and one woman, and we see anything outside of that as a threat to what God ordained. A husband and wife is a picture of Christ and His Church; a sacred union that is unlike any other human relationship. What makes this union sacred? Is it the state? Is it the church? Or is it God? Marriage in the eyes of the state, for all practical purposes, is a purely legal matter. It is official paperwork for the purposes of taxes, beneficiary designation, and other formalities. There is no spiritual or sacred dimension in the eyes of the state. God, through the avenue of his Church, is the one that makes the union sacred. We may wish the state to enforce the church's designation of marriage, but we cannot force the state to do so on Biblical grounds. In many (most?) European countries, couples that want to get married have a civil union at the court house where they are legally married in the eyes of the state, and those wanting to then have a separate ceremony at church to get married "for real" in the eyes of God. Those are two separate steps. People can be united in legal marriage without uniting before God. Those that believe marriage is a declaration made before God and His Church are free to undergo such a ceremony-- the state doesn't care either way.

Many Christians, recognizing that we can't get very far arguing our position from Biblical grounds in a secular society, try to argue that homosexual relationships will somehow erode our basic social structure. For centuries upon centuries, the basic social unit of Western society has been centered around the marriage relationship of one man and one woman. For us to change that now would to be launch out on some grand social experiment that could have disastrous consequences. I would argue that no-fault divorce was our first great social experiment, and we are still learning the effects of that as a generations of children grow up as children of divorce. This is not to say, "Well, we've already screwed up so badly, we might as well chuck it all and stop trying." But if we are truly concerned about the social structure of our society, should we focus on stopping homosexuals from getting married or focus on strengthening the bonds of heterosexual marriage? Here is where our prejudices and stereotypes come into play. We hear that studies show homosexuals tend to have many more sexual partners than heterosexuals. We hear they are less likely to stay in a committed relationship. "See?" we say, "they aren't capable of staying in a stable relationship, so we shouldn't let them get married." Our hypocrisy notwithstanding, does it make sense to say that two people of the same sex that are choosing to stay committed to each other for life undermines the stability of society?

The stickler of the argument for many Christians is children. Should we let homosexual couples adopt? Won't that harm children somehow? Again, we hear studies of how homosexuals are more likely to be abusive. (I haven't actually looked up any of these studies, but I've heard Christians quote them. I'm of the mind that you can find any study to support your point of view, regardless of what it is, so I don't put much stock in them.) Allowing homosexual couples to have children is like saying that a child doesn't need a father or mother. Again, what of the children of divorce? Or a spouse that is widowed? Single parents have been able to raise normal, well-adjusted children, while many married heterosexual couples have abused and thoroughly warped their children. No child gets to choose the family in which they are raised, but society does have a responsibility to try and protect vulnerable children. That goes for children in any family situation-- living with heterosexual parents, living with homosexual parents, living with grandparents or extended family, living with foster parents, etc. To say that homosexual people are incapable of loving and caring for a child and raising them to be a healthy, productive member of society is an allegation that has no proof or basis. Children are raised in homes where the sin of alcoholism runs rampant. Children are raised in homes where the sin of greed and pride runs rampant. Whose to say which child will turn out better? Is either one too far gone for the grace of God to reach?

Christian's well-meaning attempts to protect marriage as we understand it have resulted in us being labeled as hateful, narrow-minded bigots. We deserve much of the rebuke. We say that we love everyone, regardless of their sin, but when we speak out against homosexuality without acknowledging our own sin and complicity, our hypocrisy is so obvious that our secular culture has reason to ignore us. As homosexuals have gained more support and acceptance from the general population, they have gotten more vocal in their cause for rights. Often times, they are not asking for "special" rights-- they are asking for basic rights, such as the right to visit their loved one in the hospital even though they aren't immediate family, etc. As Christians, we should defend everyone's basic rights as human beings and protect them from abuse. Sadly, we have often been the ones heaping abuse rather than the ones protecting them from it. An example-- I remember the Christian outrage at a homosexual being allowed to play the leading role in the Christian movie "The End of the Spear." Did we make God happy by taking a "righteous stand" against homosexuality? Or, like Sodom and Gomorrah, did our haughty, arrogant spirit anger Him? We think we are being righteous and holy in this whole debate without realizing the kind of peril we are putting ourselves in.

So what is a Christian to do? First, on the personal level, the first step is obvious-- love, love, love. Treat homosexuals with love and respect. Don't see them as the enemy or some odd abnormality. Is there some link to genetics that causes some to be more predisposed to homosexuality? Perhaps; perhaps not. It doesn't change how we ought to treat them. We lovingly correct when necessary, but we let the Holy Spirit do the convicting. If we do address the issue, we do so with all humility, freely confessing our own sins and faults and recognizing we do not have the moral high ground.

On the legislative level, we have two options. We continue to "fight" for traditional marriage as we have been. Maybe we will ultimately be successful, but I doubt it. We have already moved too far in the direction of changing laws. So we continue to "fight" but lose this legal battle and be further stigmatized as bigots and haters. Or we could concede and let the state change the way it defines marriage-- any civil union between two consenting adults. Let civil marriage become a mere legal partnership in which two people decide to live their life together for purposes of housing, taxes, benefits, etc. We keep religious marriage a separate ceremony with a deeper meaning, and we focus on strengthening those bonds forged in the eyes of God. Of course, once homosexuality gains legal legitimacy, how will Christians be able to call it a sin? Will non-profit groups have to hire homosexuals even if it goes against their beliefs? Will churches have to let homosexuals get married in their sanctuaries? Will it lead to further errant arrangements, such as polygamy? And how do we teach our children homosexuality is a sin when at school they are learning that it is normal and natural? Therein lies the challenge of living Biblically in a secular society.

We seem surprised by this challenge, because we have always assumed the United States was a "Christian" nation. Now we are starting to see that the U.S.'s version of Christianity is just a folk religion of "In God We Trust" that doesn't really mean anything. Congress is not the Holy Spirit-- we can try and enact laws to get other people to live like us and look like us, but would that change their standing before God? We may not be comfortable living around certain kinds of sin, but we have become inoculated to so many other sins that we don't even recognize them. We want the state to legislate morality for us, thinking that makes our job as Christians easier. I think it is time we shift our energies and focus from preaching morality on the national stage to sharing Christ's love in our relationships and being the church to our communities. (And if we're so concerned about what the state will make us do, then give up our tax-exempt status. Problem solved.) Not to say that we shouldn't get involved in politics; just realize that politics will not save us, and no law of man makes a person right before God. We need to learn to speak the truth in love. And we need to remember that Jesus' harshest words were not toward homosexuals but toward religious leaders who enacted laws that demanded outward righteousness. They were the true stumbling blocks on the road to salvation.

Redefining "Christian" Music and Music Ministry, Part 2

2009-06-19T20:12:00.008-05:00

I am disappointed with a great deal of the "Christian music" that is being produced today. We are inundated with "Jesus is my boyfriend" type songs, as well as Christianized knock-offs of secular artists. (Ever notice how often the next big thing in secular music finds its Christian equivalent in about six months? The Christian look-alike/soundalike artist is just a cleaned-up, Jesus version of its secular counterpart and is often marketed as such. I find this laughable at best and really pathetic at worst.) We who walk in new life and commune with the Creator of the universe should be free to create and innovate in new, different, and better ways. We don't need to copy someone else's formula.

Much of this happens, of course, because Christian music is an industry. It is run like a business, not a ministry. There are many, many Christian musicians out there who are being new and different and innovative, but generally they aren't the ones getting signed to labels. Christian labels (often run by secular music labels) want to make money and be successful--that is their primary goal. We shouldn't be surprised or shocked by that. I do think ministry does happen through this avenue, by God's grace. But part of me wonders how much more beauty and worship we could be creating if we weren't squeezing ourselves into the secular music model for recording, distribution, and consumption.

To top it all off, much of the "good" Christian music, or at least popular Christian music, is full of bad theology. (To be fair, there are a good many hymns with bad theology as well, so this isn't necessarily a new phenomenon.)

N.T. Wright has some great insight into the role of beauty and creativity in the mission of the church:

"I believe that taking creation and new creation seriously is the way to understand and revitalize aesthetic awareness and perhaps even creativity among Christians today. Beauty matters, dare I say, almost as much as spirituality and justice" (Surprised by Hope, p. 222).

"But we don't live in the Garden of Eden, and art that attempts to do so quickly becomes flaccid and trivial. (The church doesn't have a monopoly on kitsch or sentimentalism, but if you want to find it the church may well be the easiest place to start.)" (Surprised by Hope, p. 223)

"When art comes to terms with both the wounds of the world and the promise of resurrection and learns how to express and respond to both at once, we will be on the way to a fresh vision, a fresh mission.... This will take serious imagination, imagination fueled by reflection and prayer at the foot of the cross and before the empty tomb, imagination that will discern the mysteries of God's judgment on evil and God's reaffirmation, through resurrection, of his beautiful creation" (Surprised by Hope, p. 224).

That's a pretty high charge we have been given. As a songwriter, I feel completely inadequate to do such a task. I don't want to write songs for the Lord and for the church that stink. On the other hand, I don't want to be lured into the trap of capitalizing and profiting on ministry (yet another reason I am reluctant to be a "Christian artist"). There are a lot of sticky issues that a Christian artist today needs to consider, not the least being maintaining one's integrity in an industry driven by money and fame. Many Christian artists have navigated this field brilliantly and have been a blessing to the church. Many more... well, not so much.

I don't think there is a one-size-fits-all guide for musicians and songwriters who want to glorify God with their music. God uses all types, styles, and presentations for His glory. But rather than having "hit-making" as our goal, or radio airplay, or big royalty checks, our goal should be solid theology, creative melodies, and top-notch musicianship. I have kept my praise and worship songs "to myself" for the most part, because I'm afraid that I'm not ready to navigate this balance with integrity and honesty. I know my own selfish heart, and I've tasted the cut-throat world of Christian music firsthand. But I also know that keeping my gifts and creativity to myself and withholding that which could benefit the church is also selfish. Still thinking and praying through this one...

Watching Tornadoes Form and Fizzle

2009-06-17T22:35:00.002-05:00

We had some rather exciting weather this evening, as the pictures from out our front window indicate. Thankfully, none of these funnel clouds touched down near here, but they kept forming and dissipating!

Redefining "Christian" Music and Music Ministry, Part 1

2009-06-15T23:39:00.007-05:00

As I've mentioned in past posts, I'm a singer-songwriter, so music is a huge, integral part of my life. I'm also, of course, a committed Christian. But I don't sing "Christian music," at least not by CCM or Christian radio's definition. (There are many reasons for that, which I may address in another post.) I've been doing a lot of thinking/praying/struggling about how God wants me to use my music for His glory. It's a question I've continually wrestled with, and I'm constantly reevaluating my conclusions over time. At this point, I'm still convinced that I'm where I'm supposed to be, singing in bars and coffee shops and not (necessarily) churches.

I'm of the mind that any music that points people towards God, even unknowingly, could be considered "Christian" music. It doesn't have to be filled with Biblical imagery or Christian clichés or use the name of Jesus 15 times in a 3 minute song. Case in point-- I covered the Metallica song "The Day That Never Comes" on my YouTube channel. Metallica is generally not the first band that comes to mind when you think of Christian music, I realize that. But because of that song, I was able to share the gospel with a guy on the other side of the world via e-mail. He's a Muslim, but he was very open to what I had to say (er... write, in this case). Now I wonder, if I was singing strictly "Christian" music and posting "Christian" songs on YouTube, would I have had this opportunity? Is this not "becom[ing] all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some" (1 Cor. 9:22)?

And besides that, I like Metallica's music. They are great musicians and songwriters, and their songs say things that many, many people can relate to. I know that as a Christian, I have to be aware of what I'm putting into my mind, and Metallica's music can get rather dark. But it is real and genuine, which is more than I can say for a lot of "Christian" music. Life isn't all sunshine and roses and blue skies, but 20 minutes of Christian radio might make you think it's supposed to be. I'm not sure that's doing justice to the message "Christian" music is supposed to be proclaiming.

More thoughts to come...

Thoughts on Anne Rice's "Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt"

2009-06-13T23:07:00.007-05:00

A few months back I picked up Anne Rice's novel, Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt, at a used bookstore. Not being a big fan of vampire stories, I had never read any of her previous books. But I remembered hearing about this book when it first came out, and I was intrigued. I finally got the chance to read it this week.

I'll admit, I was a bit skeptical when I started the book, just as I'm sure most of its readers are at first. I mean, writing about Jesus' childhood in the first person? Isn't that a bit... audacious?

Kudos to Ms. Rice-- she handles it masterfully.

I really enjoyed this book. She makes first century Egypt, Judea, and Galilee come alive. The characterization is so believable. And her return to Christianity in her personal life is evident in the fact that she portrays Jesus with such care. She does a wonderful job of not only making Him fully God and fully human, but she also fleshes out what it might have been like for Him as a child. I have often wondered about Jesus' childhood-- did He know He was God? What age did He know? Did He have miraculous power even then? Anne Rice's imagination about how it might have been is both challenging and intriguing.

Another part of the book I really enjoyed is the author's note at the end. Ms. Rice describes a bit of her journey of faith and what led her to write this book. She also describes her extensive research leading up to it. (I was also delighted to find that she lists N.T. Wright as one of her biggest influences.)

Sometimes I forget that when Hebrews 4:15 says, "For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin," it is referring not only to Jesus' temptation and suffering towards the end of His ministry, but also all the years of His earthly life. To be teased by other children. To feel childlike fear in a dangerous world. To have adults brush aside your questions. To be looked at with suspicion due to your questionable parentage. To figure out just who it is God wants you to be.

I highly recommend this book, and I'm looking forward to reading the second one in the series, The Road to Cana. It has being a blessing to my faith and will continue to be so as it prompts me to ponder the Incarnation more fully.

The Glory and the Fall - Leesha Harvey

2009-06-05T13:21:00.006-05:00

I got a request for some music, so here you go. (This is for you, Dan!) This is one of my more "overtly spiritual" songs, although I would say all of my songs have an element of faith in them. I'll include the lyrics below.

The Glory and the Fall

Label me the skeptic
Are you so surprised?
All these years of sight unseen
have left me with some aching eyes

My hands are stained and shaky
From wars within and without
When You came to claim my soul
why did You leave behind the doubt?

Will I ever change at all
as I live this life between the glory and the fall

I could keep on asking
or I could bide my time
live with the uncertainty
and take all of these mysteries blind

Forgive my indiscretion
Please don't turn away
As I give voice to my darkest thoughts
and say the things the others will not say

But do You even hear at all
as I live this life between the glory and the fall

Can you hear the crashing sound
of all the arguments falling to the ground
Is the space just too far for me to ever know
just what I am and who You are?

Ever broken, ever small
As I live this life between the glory and the fall

Ever broken, ever small
Trying to live this life between the glory and the fall

(c) 2009 Leesha Harvey

Thoughts on "The Furious Longing of God" by Brennan Manning, Part 2

2009-06-03T22:23:00.007-05:00

At the end of each chapter of "The Furious Longing of God," Brennan Manning lists a couple questions to consider for further application. The first question of the book is "When you read that phrase--the furious longing of God--what emotions or images does it evoke?" Here is what I wrote on some notebook paper in response to that question:

Fury is a lightening storm, tearing across the night sky. Fury is an earthquake, knocking down buildings and swallowing the earth. Fury is a tornado, ripping trees from the ground and hurtling them through windows. Fury is a hurricane, overtaking land and life with wind and wave. What has fury to do with love? Fury is a mother bear protecting her cubs from danger. Fury is a father when he learns his child has been kidnapped. Fury is a lover who has learned his lover has been greatly wronged.

Fury is vengeance, wrath, power unleashed. But furious longing? Does longing have the propensity to be furious? Furious longing would be desperation, unquenched desire, unfulfilled need. Longing implies lacking-- to long means one is not complete. Yet God is complete and whole, lacking in nothing. He has perfect union and fellowship within the Trinity. What need has He of me? And to call it furious-- I rather envision more a passive, "Oh, sure, it would be nice if she would join us, but no big loss either way."

The thought of God longing for me like a lover, a Father, a hurricane-- I cannot picture it. And surely His longing is for His Church and not for me as an individual? How rather arrogant to suppose I'm singled out. One lost sheep versus the ninety-nine-- I've detached myself from Biblical exegesis so much, being careful to not apply which was not meant to be applied to me, that I no longer can truly envision a passage such as this as having anything to do with me. Furious wrath, yes, but furious longing?

Surely this is just the impassioned cry of a lover and not applicable to the place I hold in God's heart. Then again, would God not love more deeply, more passionately, more fully-- more furiously-- than any human lover?

Love requires an other. If God is love, His love must have an object. He would be fully justified, in His perfection, to make that object Himself alone. Yet He chooses to direct His love towards people and invite them into a union with Him. Not just invite but relentlessly pursue, like a tireless lover. I cannot grasp that imagery in relation to me.

Thoughts on "The Furious Longing of God" by Brennan Manning, Part 1

2009-06-03T22:00:00.006-05:00

I read "The Furious Longing of God" by Brennan Manning today. It's the first book of his that I have read, and I plan on reading "The Ragamuffin Gospel" now. Overall, I liked it. It wasn't as earth-shattering as I had hoped, but I don't fault Mr. Manning for that. Just my own state of mind.

I appreciate his many descriptions of the love of God and just how wide and deep and completely immeasurable it is. Conveniently he left out any mention of hell, which is frustrating since that's the one kink in my pursuit to understanding and accepting the love of God. (God is love. Yep, got that. God is all-powerful. Sure, I'm with you. Those who don't believe in Jesus suffer in hell for all eternity. Screeeech... this bus comes to a halt.) I'm still struggling and thinking through the issue of hell. Mr. Manning ignores it all together. I'm sure he's thought about it lots, but I wish he would have shared his conclusions amidst all the love talk. For now, it's a hurdle I can't get over.

My other frustration is that the first part of the book did a wonderful job of easing the guilt of trying to live a perfect Christian life. Best line of the book-- "... I've decided that if I had my life to live over again I would not only climb more mountains, swim more rivers, and watch more sunsets; I wouldn't only jettison my hot water bottle, raincoat, umbrella, parachute, and raft; I would not only go barefoot earlier in the spring and stay out later in the fall; but I would devote not one more minute to monitoring my spiritual growth. No, not one" (p. 65). Ah, that was reassuring. But at the end he emphasizes how important it is for Christians to love other people. Obviously this is true and right. But I started the book feeling relief from guilt only to end with feelings of guilt for not loving enough. Love obviously requires some work and action, and so I'm back to counting and making sure I'm doing "enough." Again, not Mr. Manning's fault. Just my own.

I think I have trouble with books like this because I've spent so much energy reacting against emotionalism and sentimentality in my own life. My emotions can be a fickle roller coaster, and I used to use them as a measure for "where I was in my relationship with God." I know better now, and so I tend to not trust my emotions, lest I mistake them for the voice of God. Mr. Manning isn't calling us to emotionalism, but he does refer to mysticism and the experience of God. This by its very nature seems to be a deeply emotional experience. I start to doubt whether I've actually "experienced" God in this way. Maybe I did once, at campfire sing-a-longs and church altar calls, back before anti-depressants and periods of agnosticism. I don't know. I suppose I could work myself up for such an experience, but it would inevitably let me down if it's not genuinely from God.

More thoughts to come.

Creativity in Worship

2009-05-22T21:37:00.008-05:00

Lately I have been struck by the potential and possibilities of human creativity. As I've been substitute teaching for music classes, I've been scouring through albums and videos, trying to find top-notch performances to share with my students. I've listened to a wide variety of genres, I've seen a number of different performances, and all I can say is-- wow. It leaves me speechless what humans are able to do with some innate talent and a whole lot of practice. I've been moved to tears on several occasions as I listened to a guitarist play, or heard a vocalist sing, or seen a dancer dance.

God made us in His image, and the best evidence of that is our own ability to create. We have access to centuries upon centuries of human creativity-- in art, music, literature, and so forth. And humans all over the world are creating new and wonderful things on a daily basis. Something synergistic happens when human thoughts convalesce into art. The whole becomes greater than its parts. Emotions are evoked. Beauty happens.

Just this evening, I watched my daughter's dance recital. Some of the older dancers have become quite accomplished ballerinas. The whole time I kept thinking, "How beautiful and strong the human body is. How beautiful is this form of expression. What a great testament to God's creative power. How very... worshipful." Indeed, one of the songs was a praise song, and you could tell it meant something to the three girls dancing to it. They wore expressions of adoration on their faces as they lifted their arms and floated across the stage. It caused me to worship God in my heart.

In stark contrast to this stands Sunday morning. When I compare it to the creativity I've witnessed these last few weeks, Sunday morning worship seems rather... bland. [Edit-- This is not an indictment of just one particular church--I've had this feeling in many of the churches I've been to and heard the sentiment expressed by friends and family in their own churches.] That's not to say that it isn't true worship, or that it doesn't have beauty to it. But it seems like we are trying to paint with just red, yellow, and blue when the whole spectrum of colors is available to us. Sure, we can make some pretty pictures with the colors we're using, but oh, the possibilities if we would expand our palette! What better way to praise our Creator than to use the full extent of the creative power He gave us? Why aren't we doing it?

Throughout history, the Church has generated some of the greatest works of art known to humankind. We still have that potential, and in many ways, the Church is still creating. But I fear we've settled for lower expectations and have allowed ourselves to get stuck in the rut of a few formulas that (sort of) worked once upon a time. We start thinking in terms of what people like, what people are comfortable with, and what's easiest rather than what best expresses our love and adoration to our Father. We settle for "we've always done it this way" rather than "how can we do it better?". We stop imagining, reaching, dreaming, and searching our hearts for new ways to express all that is within us in reverent worship. Sure, a simple chorus song with a few words repeated over and over is easy to sing, but it hardly says all the things I want to say to my Father. It seems shallow when my heart wants to cry out of its depths.

As a songwriter, I feel a personal responsibility to help remedy this problem. I've avoided affiliating my music with so-called "Christian" music as a genre. "Christian" music has a certain set of unspoken expectations of what can be said and what should be said, and I don't want to limit myself to overworked cliches and tired imagery that's been used a thousand times. I have a lot of thoughts and ideas right now, and I'm not particularly sure what to do with them all. I just know that I don't want to settle for mediocrity, and the Church certainly shouldn't settle for less than its best. May the Creator be honored by our creativity, in all its many forms.

Thoughts on the "Church Militant"

2009-05-05T18:50:00.021-05:00

One of my favorite Bible school songs as a child was "I'm in the Lord's Army." The lyrics went like this:

I may never march in the infantry,

Ride in the cavalry, shoot the artillery.

I may never fly o'er the enemy, but I'm in the Lord's army.

Now as an adult, I tend to cringe when I hear kids sing that song. I think it's because I now understand the unfortunate and often disastrous results that occur when Christians try to live militantly.

As a child, I liked the idea of being on God's side--everyone likes to be on the winning team. I had no idea who the "Lord's army" fought against, but I'm sure I pictured some sort of caricature of Satan and his demons as the enemy. We Christians are in a battle of sorts. We are even given specific instructions on how to put on our armor (Ephesians 6:10-18). But our battle is not "against flesh and blood" (Ephesians 6:12). In other words, we are not fighting against people. Our struggle is a spiritual one. Jesus gave us clear non-violent principles for living when He told us to "turn the other cheek" (Matthew 5:38-40) and "pray for our enemies" (Matthew 5:43-45). I see no hints of marching into battle or calls to arms in the gospel. I see the willful relinquishing of personal power and control to effect an even greater victory.

In my last post, I discussed how often we Christians in America take a very disrespectful attitude towards our governmental leaders. On the flip side, American Christians tend to be very patriotic--even nationalistic. We've blurred the line between love for God and love for country so much that we often think "American" is synonymous with "Christian." We've elevated our country to the position of "God's favorite nation" and think that all our country's actions to promote democracy are somehow an extension of building the kingdom of God on earth. This takes the simple refrain of "I'm in the Lord's army" to a whole new, blasphemous level.

Greg Boyd has written extensively about this topic and so I'm not going to rehash it here. I'm thankful Boyd has the guts to speak out against this idolatrous trend in the American church. He has recently been posting his thoughts about the "New American Patriot's Bible"-- I highly encourage you to read his review and be aware of this harmful Bible that will soon be showing up in our church pews.

I will, however, offer up a simple test that I use in determining whether something is better suited for the kingdom of God or the kingdom of America--whether it be songs, sermons, books, or whatever. I ask myself questions such as, "Would an Iraqi Christian be comfortable sitting in this service or reading this book? Would I be comfortable singing this song if an Afghani Christian were sitting next to me?"

There have been many times in the last several years (most notably on church services over Memorial Day weekend and close to the Fourth of July) when I have to say, "No, an Iraqi Christian would not be comfortable with this song. They would be very, very offended." Then I picture how I would feel if the situation was reversed-- if my country was the one invaded by another, if suicide bombs were going off in my streets, if members of my family had been killed by the bombs of another country--and I was sitting in on a church service with fellow believers from that country singing songs asking God to bless their country or singing about the good and noble things their country had done all for the glory of God.

And that's when I choose not to sing those songs, or listen to that sermon, and I spend the time praying for God's kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.

The people of God are a family, a body, a building... not an army. We are a family that transcends borders, a body that lasts throughout time, a building that will not be hemmed in by country or government. Let our allegiance be firm in following our leader, Jesus Christ, who did not take up a sword, but a towel to wash the feet of His disciples and a cross to die for the world.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T... From the School House to the White House

2009-05-04T21:41:00.008-05:00

I recently started a job as a substitute teacher for middle school music classes. It's a 5 week gig, and I'm about half way through. It's been.... challenging, to say the least.

I didn't expect it to be easy. I know how we treated "the sub" when I was in school. Since I'm in a longer term position instead of just a one-day role, the students are finally figuring out they have to put up with me until the end of the school year, so they best get used to it. Most of the students have been great, but a few of them make me want to pull my hair out. They are rude, disruptive, hyper, angry, obnoxious, and snotty. When I enforce the rules, they balk. One sixth grader actually flipped me off the other day.

Even the good students show resistance at times. "We don't do things that way," they say. I do my best to communicate my reasoning for why I'm choosing to run the class a certain way, and they just sigh and roll their eyes like I'm just another idiotic adult who couldn't possibly understand.

There have been countless times in the past 2 weeks when I've wanted to get a bullhorn and declare, "I am the teacher, and you will show me respect because I am the teacher. You don't have to like me, you don't have to like my decisions, but you will obey the rules and treat me with respect regardless of how you feel."

Now that I'm in a position of authority, it has given me new insight into what it means to respect authority. When a student approaches me with a kind and respectful attitude to discuss a problem or issue, I am more than willing to listen and come to some sort of compromise with him. If a student comes with a bad attitude written all over his face and disdain in his voice, I don't have much patience for negotiation.

Some church friends of mine have been talking a lot about respect these last six months. They started a website and Facebook group called "Respect Our President." They didn't vote for Obama, but they recognized that people--Christians in particular-- have gotten into the horrible habit of treating our President with utter disrespect. We badmouthed Clinton, we badmouthed Bush, and we badmouth Obama.

I was dismayed at the slanderous accusations about Obama that were passed around via e-mail by Christians in the months leading up to the election. Suddenly facts didn't matter, and people didn't take the time to see what was true. Hysteria seemed to rule the day. Now that Obama is in office, I still hear Christians refer to the him as if they have a bad taste in their mouth.

I voted for Obama, and while I'm not entirely happy with many of his decisions thus far, it's still fairly easy for me to respect him. I did, however, speak about Bush and Clinton disrespectfully while they were in office, much to my shame. It's one thing to disagree with their policy decisions; it's quite another to malign their character or make jokes at their expense. As Christians, we have no business speaking of our leadership in this way. We can thoughtfully disagree, but we should do so out of respect.

If you need some Biblical support for this idea, check out Romans 13:1-7, 1 Peter 2:13-17, and 1 Timothy 2:1-4.

Some may argue that if a leader stands in opposition to the will of God, then we should not respect them or submit to them. True, there is a time when we have to choose to obey the kingdom of God rather than the kingdom of man. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego disobeyed the king's edict to bow down to the idol, but in their resistance, they still answered the king with respect. (Check out Daniel 3 to see how they responded.) I wonder if we here in 21st century America are too quick to jump to the resistance stage instead of using creativity, intelligence, and love to work out solutions on the cultural stage. If we put forth half the effort into doing something positive that we put into maligning our leadership, we might actually be able accomplish something good rather than complain about all that we see as wrong.

Remember, too, that the Biblical command to honor those in authority also applies to the Christian in North Korea, Iran, Cuba, and Zimbabwe. I think it would be a much harder concept to apply in those countries than it is in our own.

If you are interested in some great discussions on respecting our President and what that means, I encourage you to check out Respect Our President's website as well as the Facebook group. You'll find some practical suggestions as well as some lively debate.

In the meantime, I'm learning that respect is a crucial aspect of human relationships. "Show proper respect to everyone: Love the brotherhood of believers, fear God, honor the king" (1 Peter 2:17). We should show respect regardless of whether or not we think it is deserved, because respect and love seem to be closely intertwined.

At the very least, it will get you on the teacher's good side.

Launch of BioLogos Website

2009-04-29T15:07:00.005-05:00

If you've read some of my earlier posts on evolutionary creation, then you might be interested in the new website called BioLogos. It looks like it will be a great resource for Christians seeking to reconcile their faith and science.

New Layout

2009-04-25T10:52:00.005-05:00

I've been experimenting with new Blogger layouts to find one that is a little easier on the eyes to read. So if you see this site change its look from time to time, you'll know why. (I can be terribly indecisive about such things.) If you have suggestions or preferences (bigger font, different color) that make it easier to view, feel free to let me know. Thanks!

The Good, The Bad, and Everything In Between

2009-04-24T20:52:00.004-05:00

My husband and I have elementary school-aged children, and like many parents, we have always made it a priority to try and shield them from negative influences. We don't get cable, we restrict what cartoons they can watch, and we monitor the games they play on the internet. The worst offending influence we had to correct in their preschool years was the "just believe in yourself" pop psychology that is so prevalent in kids' cartoons.

Our job became much harder when our kids entered public school, as we expected it would. Now they often come home and ask about an offending word or gesture, or talk about why so-and-so's parent is in jail. It can be stressful at times, but I hope that as we teach them to think through these issues, they will be able to make good choices when we are not around.

A couple weeks ago, though, our kids were at a friend's house and were exposed to a very violent video game. I was very dismayed when I heard about it later, as they were describing what they saw. I was even more dismayed when they tried to argue with me why the game was OK, even after I told them why it was a bad game. I finally had to say, "That game is BAD. You don't not play that game EVER. If a friend has that game, you say your Mom does not allow you to play or watch that game EVER."

Kids think in terms of black and white. They have to be told "this is bad" and "this is okay." It's hard to explain the subtleties of morality to a five-year-old. Thus the world is cast in black and white for little eyes. Everything falls into two categories--good/bad, permissible/not permissible, moral/immoral.

Part of growing up, then, is realizing that the world really isn't black and white. It's black and white and a million shades of gray. There is moral, immoral, and amoral. There is sometimes moral under some circumstances and immoral under different circumstances. Very few things in life are cut and dry. I think of 1 Corinthians 13:11: "When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me." We have to put childish reasoning aside in order to fully mature. That means we have to set aside our tendency to see everything as either "all good" or "all bad."

The Christian life would be easier if it were a set of rules. We could have our list of what was good and what was bad and check it off as we go. We could feel pretty confident we were doing things right. God gave the Law to Israel, arguably the ultimate list of "right and wrong." It became a burden because they could not live up to it, and those who tried often lost the whole spirit of the Law that calls people to love God and love other people. We as Christians do not live under the law (which is a good thing for many reasons, not the least of which is that cotton/polyester blends are much easier to iron). But we do well to observe many aspects of the law (such as the "do not murder" part). Then Jesus came along and upped the ante. Calling your brother a fool could be akin to murder, and lusting in your mind is adultery in the heart (Matthew 5:21-30).

If we try to apply the Bible to our lives as merely a rule book or a guide for daily living, we are going to run into obvious problems. Take "do not murder," for example. Seems simple enough. But then we run into the tricky issues of war, euthanasia, the death penalty, and so forth. What started out as a black and white issue now has a whole spectrum of moral decisions that don't seem so clear.

Take lying for another example. We could find many examples in scripture that support the idea that lying is a bad thing. Yet Rahab, who lied her face off to protect the Israelite spies, is commended in Hebrews 11 as an example of great faith. (I'm waiting for the day when my ever-perceptive children come home from Sunday School class and ask me about that one!)

There is true freedom for the Christian: "'Everything is permissible'-- but not everything is beneficial. 'Everything is permissible'-- but not everything is constructive. Nobody should seek his own good, but the good of others" (1 Corinthians 10:23-24). Rather than a list of rules, we are told to put the good of others above our own self-interests. That's messier business than a list of rules, but it allows the nuances needed in dealing with people. We don't live in a one-rule-fits-every-circumstance world, and God gave us the freedom to be guided by His Spirit and our own discernment to respond to each situation as needed.

I've encountered many adults in the last few weeks who are still seeing the world in stark contrasts. They have labeled "good" all that they consider "good," and everything else is as evil as the fire of hell itself. Trying to reason with them to take a more nuanced approach is about as effective as trying to get my 5-year-old to reason through the moral complexities of a violent video game. I expect it from a child, but I get a little exasperated when I'm talking with an adult. While there certainly are issues that I view as black and white and non-negotiable, that list is a lot shorter than it used to be. And I hope I am not belligerent when I discuss those issues with others. I obviously have a long way to go in the process of maturing, but I can recognize a few areas where I've put away childish thinking (through a rather painful process, but it happened eventually). Ultimately, when it comes to an issue where I'm unsure of the morality/immorality of it, I try to err on the side of love and grace extended toward people.

A final thought-- Jesus said that "anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it" (Mark 10:15). So on the one hand we are to mature, yet we are still to be like little children. Having kids has helped me to understand this verse. I don't think having a "childlike faith" means never questioning anything and taking everything blind. On the contrary, my kids are incredibly inquisitive and question things all the time. But they look to us for guidance, and they long to be with us and do what we're doing. They don't have egos or agendas when it comes to spending time with Mom and Dad. In the same way, we should approach our Heavenly Father with all our childish questions and let Him guide our thinking. The world will still be black and white and a million shades of gray, but we will start to see it with His loving eyes.

How Charles Dickens Made Me A Democrat

2009-04-16T21:42:00.005-05:00

I don't watch much T.V., but I do enjoy watching Masterpiece on PBS when I get the chance. Lately my local PBS station has been airing the works of Charles Dickens--David Copperfield, Oliver Twist, and the one I watched a few nights ago, Little Dorrit.

I consider David Copperfield to be one of my favorite books of all time. I like the book for many reasons; the obvious ones of course-- a colorful cast of characters and a remarkable story-- but also because it had a profound impact on my thinking. Reading Dickens, one can't help but notice the stark poverty that existed in 19th century England. Even though England was one of the most developed nations on earth, with an empire that stretched around the globe, its streets were still filled with beggars and orphans, and its debtors' prisons were full of families with little hope of paying their debts. Reading David Copperfield for the first time, I wondered how people in such a wealthy nation could be so poor. How did it happen? Why didn't anyone help them? I know there was a lot of factors contributing to the landscape of 19th century England, but Dickens turned my radar on to the plight of the poor in this day and age, in my own country, and in my own town.

Growing up, I had the mindset that you are what you make yourself. Hard work would be rewarded, and laziness would lead you to financial ruin. (Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps and all that.) Those who looked to government handouts were simply people who didn't want to work, and inefficient bureaucratic government rewarded their slothfulness. As I always like to say, I grew up watching my father read his Bible with a Wall Street Journal in his other hand and Rush Limbaugh on the radio. Thus, I equated a Republican, "conservative" view of government with the most Christian view of government. A person's welfare was their own responsibility, and government had no business addressing what people should obviously be able to fix themselves. If a person was really in need, they could go to a church for help. Or so I thought.

Then I encountered poverty, not just in the pages of a book, but in real life. I encountered my own experience with financial hardship and the need to rely on government services. I realized that these things are never as simple as political stump speeches like to make them. And I realized that many churches in the U.S., either through ignorance or choice, are not equipped to help those in need in their own communities.

I've seen churches go above and beyond to help those in need, and I've seen churches completely drop the ball in helping the people literally outside their front door. I've seen government inefficiency at its bureaucratic worse, and I've seen government programs help people in tremendous ways, saving them from financial ruin. I'm not naive enough to think government can or should fix everyone's problems, nor is it the best vehicle for meeting the needs of people in poverty. But I look at the world of Charles Dickens-- a world with few government services, a world where the church (and indeed, being the Church of England, a very structured one) was responsible for caring for the poor-- and I wonder what made things finally improve. Many things changed--economically, politically, socially, and religiously-- so it's hard to point to what brought the most relief to a desperate situation. While government wasn't the sole source, it certainly played a part. I then imagine what our country today would look like if we had no government services-- no welfare, no medicaid, no WIC, no state child health insurance, no laws protecting workers, no unemployment aid, and so forth. Where could people go for help? Surely the church would help, but could the church help everyone, in every town, in every village? Without a safety net that covered the entire country in an organized way, how many people would fall through the cracks?

For this reason (and a few others), I came to the conclusion that government can play a positive role in people's lives, and until our churches get their acts together to address the needs of their communities, then government will have to continue to meet this need.

As a Christian, I'm not entirely happy with this conclusion, as I'm still convinced churches have the potential to do a better job of addressing poverty than the government. I get frustrated when I hear Christians bad mouth government services and the people who use them and yet don't do anything in their local church to help those people. Maybe we need to venture out of our comfortable church buildings and into our communities to see where the needs are--because the needs are there.

Or maybe we just need to read more Dickens.

The Hope of the Resurrection

2009-04-11T18:32:00.005-05:00

I received two e-mails recently that I've thought a lot about today. One, forwarded from a friend, was a reminder of the beginning of the 100 Days of Remembrance to mark the 15th anniversary of the genocide in Rwanda. In 1994, almost one million Rwandans were killed by their fellow countrymen in about 100 days. I spent a little time reading more about that wicked and tragic event. I can't get my mind around it.

The other e-mail I received was from my Mom, who serves as a missionary in Zimbabwe. That country has been experiencing terrible economic and political turmoil. Food is scarce, disease is running rampant, and a dictator holds a stranglehold on the country. My Mom e-mailed to tell me about the Easter program her church did about the last days of Christ's life. She said the favorite part of her program was the colorfulness of it-- Jesus and his disciples were black while Jesus' mother Mary and Mary Magdalene were white. Knowing that country's history, it is an encouraging testament to the healing Christ can bring.

While thinking about all these things, I listened today to the audio of a dialogue between N. T. Wright and Bart Ehrman on The Problem of Evil. (I really recommend listening to the whole discussion. Both men are intelligent, articulate, and passionate about their beliefs.) Bart Ehrman is a former evangelical who gave up on his faith in light of the horrendous suffering in the world. N. T. Wright spoke on evil from his Christian perspective. Ehrman cannot accept a God who would allow such terrible suffering in the world. He has come to the conclusion that this life is all there is, so you better live it and enjoy it as best you can. Bishop Wright said many insightful things about the problem of evil, but towards the end, he boiled it down to what is, quite literally, the crux of the issue. He said (and I'm roughly paraphrasing) that were it not for the resurrection, he would be in the same boat as Ehrman.

In other words, without the resurrection of Jesus Christ, this life means nothing. We have no hope. There is no point. Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die.

"And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men" (1 Corinthians 15:17-19).

And so this is my reflection on the resurrection this Easter-- without it, we're screwed.

Jesus' resurrection is central to all of human history. It is our only hope of being saved, not only as individuals, but as a world. It is the promise that God will restore and renew this world some day. It is not a vague, sentimental hope of "Yippee, God forgave all my bad stuff so I can fly off to heaven." It is God reconciling us to Himself and redeeming creation for His glory. All the genocides, the wars, the famines, the dictators-- all the evil in the world we see and can't adequately explain or understand-- we look from that straight to the cross. The place where God chose suffering. The place where God demonstrated His love. The place God vowed that He would restore all that was lost. Look to the cross and to the resurrection. It's our only hope.

-----

If you would like to donate food and help alleviate some of the suffering in Zimbabwe, click here.

And here's an easy way to help coffee farmers in Rwanda while promoting reconciliation.

"Biblical Worldview"-- Polished Arguments or Selfless Love?

2009-04-10T10:05:00.009-05:00

My church is currently going through a video series designed to help Christians form and articulate a "Biblical worldview." I've only been able to see one of the sessions, so I really can't speak to the whole series. But the one session I saw started me thinking on the phrase "Biblical worldview" and what it might mean.

Simply put, having a Biblical worldview usually means seeing the world through the lens of the Bible. It makes the Bible one's ultimate authority for decisions on life, faith, and morality. It recognizes that there is an absolute truth that transcends time and culture. In general, I think that is a very important thing for Christians to know. Christians need to know their Bible, how to read it, how to understand it, and how to apply it. Christians need to know their theology and what it means for their life. What we believe directly affects how we act. So in this sense, honing a "Biblical worldview" is a very good thing.

But two main concerns arise in my mind whenever I hear people talk about a "Biblical worldview." (And it's not just this particular video series-- there are countless books, magazines, websites, articles, and conferences designed to help the Christian "think Biblically.")

1. My first concern is that a "Biblical worldview" invariably means more than just the Bible-- it means taking the Bible and applying it to specific issues within our culture. Trouble is, the Bible doesn't specifically address many of the issues we are facing in the 21st century, just as it didn't specifically address issues in the 5th century or the 16th century. There is a lot of room for subjectivity in our attempt to be objective. Two different people can both view the Bible as inerrant and as the ultimate authority for life and faith, but when they seek to apply that to cultural or social issues, they may apply it in very different ways. Who then has the Biblical worldview?

Too often, these attempts to help Christians develop a "Biblical worldview" are just thinly veiled disguises to get Christians to support a particular side in the debate of a cultural issue. For instance, it might be geared to helping Christians develop a politically conservative worldview. It is often implied that if one is truly "thinking Biblically," then it would be impossible for that person to, say, vote for a pro-choice politician or stand in opposition to a "just war." What a beautiful argument that is-- if someone doesn't vote for your candidate, you can accuse them of not having a "Biblical worldview." Then it becomes an issue not of political preference but of obedience to a holy God. Politics is just one example of where disagreement can occur. Devout, faithful believers can find their "Biblical worldview" translating into very different actions in the public square. So... who is right?

2. My second concern is that these attempts to disseminate a "Biblical worldview" end up giving believers an "us versus them" and "Christians versus culture" mentality. It sees our "post-modern"culture as the enemy out to destroy everything we as Christians hold near and dear. Thus, the solution is not teaching believers to love their neighbor, but to arm them with strategic information to thwart the attacks of "culture." If believers can learn the weaknesses of their enemy's arguments, find the holes in their logic, then they can sweep in with their well-formulated arguments and score a major victory for Christ... or so the thinking goes.

Trouble is, it doesn't work. Culture is not something we can grab and take control of-- culture is made up of people and the things they do. So "culture wars" are not simply ideas versus ideas. They pit people against people. As Christians, we know our "fight" is not against people. Our struggle is a spiritual one (Ephesians 6:10-18). We are told to love people, even our enemies (Matthew 5:44). Presenting someone with a logical argument for our faith is not the same thing as loving them.

I worked on formulating my arguments for years. I studied Josh McDowell and Lee Strobel, took notes, and memorized the facts. (I'm not criticizing McDowell or Strobel--I greatly appreciate their books and their testimonies.) How do you think it played out in my interactions with other people?

Non-Christian Friend: "You know, I don't know why you read the Bible. It's just a big bunch of myths written by monks hundreds of years later."

Me: (Excited to get to use what I know) "Actually, there is a lot of historical evidence for the veracity of the Bible. Most of the books were written soon after the life of Christ. And did you know there are hundreds of manuscripts in existence, while Homer's Iliad only has a few...?" (Continues with amazing, brilliant argument)

Non-Christian Friend: "Wow, I never knew that. I had no idea there was so much evidence for the Bible. I guess I better give it another look. Can I go to church with you on Sunday?"

As you can imagine, it never played out like that. It usually looked something more like this:

Non-Christian Friend: "You know, I don't know why you read the Bible. It's just a big bunch of myths written by monks hundreds of years later."

Me: (Excited to get to use what I know) "Actually, there is a lot of historical evidence for the veracity of the Bible. Most of the books were written soon after the life of Christ. And did you know there are hundreds of manuscripts in existence, while Homer's Iliad only has a few..." (Blah, blah, blah)

Non-Christian Friend: (Shrugs) "Whatever. I guess I just don't buy it. Cool for you, though."

That little scenario has happened with frustrating regularity.

It doesn't matter how great our speeches are. Our logic may be impeccable. But if we are not loving people and the Holy Spirit is not working, it won't make a bit of difference. If we hope to influence culture with our "Biblical worldview," will we do so with well-polished arguments or selfless love?

I love to debate. I thrive on arguing. But I save those exercises for fellow Christians who know me well; otherwise, I come across as rather unloving. We are told to "always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have," but that is to be done "with gentleness and respect" (1 Peter 3:15). That mandate is given after the passage tells us to "live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble. Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing..." (1 Peter 3:8-9). A "Biblical worldview" should not make one militant or aggressive, seeking to win an argument. A "Biblical worldview" does not want to see another person put to shame. A true "Biblical worldview" is one that sees the world full of hurting people that need to be loved with the love of Christ. If our apologetics do not serve this goal, then they are not truly Biblical.

"They'll Know We Are Christians By Our...?"

2009-04-09T20:45:00.005-05:00

My parents were on the fringe of the Jesus Movement in the early 70s. As a result, I grew up singing such classics as Pass It On, I Wish We'd All Been Ready (got to love Larry Norman!), and the ever popular They'll Know We Are Christians By Our Love. If you aren't familiar with the lyrics of that song, the verses talk about unity in the Spirit, working together, walking together, and the chorus wraps it all up with:

And they'll know we are Christians by our love, by our love,

Yes, they'll know we are Christians by our love.

One might be suspicious that such a touchy-feely kind of song was nothing more than a Christianized version of hippie free-love folksiness. But the lyrics actually convey a very Biblical idea. Jesus said "A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another" (John 13:34-35). Not only are we to love those within the body of Christ, but we are clearly commanded to love our enemies (Matthew 5:44) and to put others' needs ahead of our own (Philippians 2:1-11)-- all so that Jesus Christ may be glorified.

Love is the calling card of the Christian--the identifying mark that distinguishes us in a world full of narcissism, egos, and hatred. But not just any kind love, for everyone loves and knows how to love to some degree. God calls us to a self-sacrificial love, a love that denies its own rights for the benefit of others, that pours itself out continually, that dies to self so that others may live. This type of love can be painful and difficult, or at the very least, uncomfortable and inconvenient.

As I look back on my life, I wonder if other people ever thought, "Wow, look at how loving she is. She must be a Christian." I'm ashamed to admit that probably isn't the case. Sure, I've always been a nice person. I've always been generally kind and pleasant to others. I've had my Christian wear, my Christian music, my squeaky clean language, and my PG-rated movie preferences. Was I banking on those things to identify me as a believer in Jesus Christ? Or was I hoping that my "Biblical worldview" and my well-formulated arguments for the veracity of the Bible would give me away? Was I hoping people would know I was a Christian because of how I voted, the petitions I signed, and the letters to the editor I wrote? Was I hoping that my faithful church attendance would tip people off to my beliefs?

Christians should look different from the world, but I wonder if too often we look different for the wrong reasons. Instead of being known for our extreme love, we're known for our extreme political positions, our extreme responses to hot-button social issues, our extreme separatist sub-culture mentality. To borrow from 1 Corinthians 13-- if we vote for a certain party, boycott the right company, protest the right issue, but have not love, we are nothing and we gain nothing.

I haven't mastered this concept yet. Not by a long shot. Loving my neighbor seems to be made up of many small choices and opportunities, every day, every week, every month. Nothing flashy. Not a big campaign or program. It's much easier to sign an online petition that Christians are forwarding via e-mail and think I've furthered the cause of Christ in some way than it is to spend time with the snot-nosed, unsupervised neighbor kids who always seem to be knocking on the front door at inopportune times. Sacrificial love is hard. It seeks the best for others at the expense of self. It doesn't try to get noticed, but extreme acts of love will be noticed.

Lord, help me to love as Christ loved. May they truly know that we are Christians by our love.

Finding Common Ground on Creation

2009-04-07T14:49:00.007-05:00

My last post briefly described how I came to accept the position of theistic evolution (also known as evolutionary creation, among other names). I realize that this view may place me outside of mainstream evangelical thought (at least in the United States), but I am convinced one can hold this view and still hold an inerrant view of God's Word. Evolution does not demand atheism, nor does it demand a rejection of Genesis 1 and 2. A believer who accepts the scientific propositions of evolution should not automatically be accused of capitulating to science at the expense of Biblical integrity.

The American Scientific Affiliation: A Fellowship of Christians in Science, produced a "General Statement on Creation" that encapsulates common ground between the differing viewpoints of creation. Citing Biblical references under each main point, the statement affirms:

God is the creator of all things.
God is as active in "natural" events as in "miraculous" ones.
God actively cares for His creation.
All Creation is the object of God's redemptive plan.
We humans are given stewardship responsibility over creation.
Scientific study of the natural world can be a spiritual calling in service to God.
Scientific description and divine action need not be in conflict.

I encourage you to read the whole statement and see how Christians from different schools of scientific thought worked past the arguments and debates to recognize areas upon which they could agree.

The general statement is followed by specific statements from the four main schools of thought-- Young Earth, Old Earth, Theistic Evolution, and Intelligent Design. They are helpful summaries of each of these viewpoints.

Ultimately, I do not think it matters a great deal which point of a view a Christian holds. There is no "proper" view of creation that is "essential" to salvation (although I've heard many Christians argue as if this was the most important tenet to orthodox belief). Yes, one can argue that how a person views the first two chapters of the Bible will greatly influence how he/she views the rest of the Bible. But genuine believers fall into different camps on this issue, and they all can stand before God with a clear conscience.

Science and Faith-- Enemies or Allies?

2009-04-05T21:45:00.005-05:00

I thought for my first topic I'd start with an issue I've been reading about and wrestling with a lot these past 2 months-- evolution.

I used to believe the earth was created by God in six literal days, sometime in the recent past (as in less than 10,000 years ago). From everything I was taught, I thought this was the only acceptable position a Christian who wanted to stay true to the Bible could take. As I entered my science classes, I went in with the mindset that any scientist who believed in evolution was delusional, blinded to the truth of God's word and the true nature of our universe. I didn't even allow myself to hear the case for evolution, because I assumed it was contrary to my faith and thus should be avoided and argued against vehemently. I had no trouble believing in a worldwide flood of Noah, but I actually had the audacity to question whether dinosaurs really existed or if their bones were put here as a test to our faith. ?!

Looking back, I'm rather ashamed at what a pig-headed, egotistical stance I was taking. Here I was, not knowing a thing about science (and very little about theology), brazenly standing in the face of 150+ years of mainstream scientific research and saying, "Nope, you're wrong!" Of course, I assumed that the evidence that creationists gave me as talking points was valid science and that they were in the minority simply because they chose to stand up for their faith in a godless scientific community.

That little paradigm started to fall apart when I started to contemplate the vastness of the universe. I don't know if it was a PBS program or just an evening gazing at the night sky, but something made me think about stars that were millions of light years away from our galaxy... and I thought, "If they are millions of light years away, and we can actually accurately measure this, then the universe would have to be at least that old for the light to even get here..." The wheels started turning in my brain. I searched for the creationist answer to those stars millions of light years away and was dismayed to find the contortionist reasoning and mental gymnastics they had to do to explain this away. So I dug further and thought I found a happy place within the ID (Intelligent Design) movement. There I found scientists that believed the earth was indeed very old, but God was still the creator and we could still render a (fairly) literal reading of Genesis 1 and 2.

Still, I had the uncomfortable feeling that somehow all the finagling we had to do in response to the fossil record just wasn't quite... right. I didn't know what to do with that, so I decided to put it on the back shelf of my mind and just not think about it. I was done with my science courses by this time, so that didn't pose a problem.

But now I have a 7 year old son who is crazy about science and dinosaurs and reads everything he can get his hands on about space and the universe. What was I going to tell him about where we came from? Was I going to tell him that much of what he read in his science books was lies? How could I tell him that when I really didn't know?

So I launched out to give evolution a second look. I've been surprised to find just how many scientists who are believers in Jesus Christ not only accept evolution but consider it an ally to their faith. They have no difficulty reconciling evolution with their belief in God as creator and sovereign Lord. In fact, the farther they delve in their scientific research, the more they find that makes them want to worship God in awe and wonder. This was shocking to me-- why had I never heard from these people before? Has the creation/evolution debate in our schools become so loud and cantankerous that no one has ever given them a chance to speak? Apparently there is not a lot of public interest in finding harmony between faith and science.

I'm not going to present the case for evolution here. I don't understand enough about science to do it justice, and there are plenty of good books and websites written by people who have devoted their life to studying it. I'll let them make their case. I simply offer a few observations:

--Accepting evolution does not automatically equate to atheism and relativism.

--Accepting evolution does not automatically lead to a godless society.

--Evolution is the major axiom of all biological study for the past 150 years. It is a forgone conclusion in almost every scientist's mind, because the evidence for it is so overwhelming. If we as Christians are going to invalidate an entire wing of scientific research, we better have very good evidence for doing so.

--While there are a few scientists who reject evolution and do so on scientific grounds, by far most of the prominent voices arguing against evolution know very little about science. When did theologians, lawyers, and radio talk show hosts suddenly become experts in biology, geology, genetics, paleontology, etc.?

--Darwin should not be blamed for things such as Social Darwinism, eugenics, Nazism, etc. The "slippery slope" argument says that once we accept evolution, then it will inevitably lead to these other things. I don't think that's the case. If we're going to blame Darwin for Nazism, then we would also have to blame the gospels for anti-Semitism.

With that, I offer up some further reading. Check out the books by Miller, Collins, and Giberson in the links to the left. These sites may also be helpful:

--"Does Science Make Belief in God Obsolete?" - An essay by Kenneth Miller, Brown University

--Kenneth Miller's website Evolution Resources

--American Scientific Affiliation: A Fellowship of Christians in Science

--The Faraday Institute for Science and Religion

--And coming soon... The BioLogos Foundation at BioLogos.org

What is Slope Sitter? - Part 2

2009-04-04T18:12:00.005-05:00

Just to be clear-- being a Slope Sitter doesn't mean one shouldn't have convictions. Far from it. This blog isn't so much about "sitting on the fence" as it is bravely, calmly, and sensibly examining both sides before coming to a decision. We as humans are given to extremes-- we like to pick our side and fight tooth and nail to defend it. I will not deny that some things are non-negotiable. There are some areas a believer in Jesus Christ cannot compromise on without compromising the true essence of our faith. What I propose, though, is that too often we take our stances without examining all the evidence, and we die on hills of triviality. That is not only a waste of precious energy but also can be damaging to our witness as Christians. So part of finding sensible places to perch on the slope includes deciding what issues are essential and what issues are negotiable. It also means conceding that those with whom we disagree might be just as faithful, obedient, and devout as we consider ourselves to be.

What is Slope Sitter?

2009-04-04T16:41:00.001-05:00

I can't tell you how many times I've heard the phrase "slippery slope." It's usually offered as some kind of warning-- "That leads to a slippery slope"-- an ominous prediction of what will happen when someone follows a certain line of thinking. Asking certain questions or allowing certain thoughts will inevitably lead to a dangerous point of no return. I used to use this phrase a lot. I guess I've always figured it was true.

Recently, though, I came to the realization that I've been perched on the side of that slippery slope for quite some time. Quite happily even.

Let me explain.

I grew up as what you might call a fundamentalist (and I use that term not in the good sense, such as The Fundamentals published in the early 20th century). While I hate using labels to describe a person, you might get a sense of what I was like with words such as: right-wing, Republican, liberal-hater, vitriolic pro-lifer, gay-basher, pre-tribber, young earth 6-day creationist, stereotypical Bible-thumper, "see-the-world-in-black-and-white" evangelical Christian. I use those terms not to impugn those who wear those labels proudly; rather, I offer them as a quick snapshot of my beliefs. If you are (or were) someone like that, or know someone like that, you are probably nodding your head in recognition. You know the type. Well, that was me.

But somewhere along the way, I started to realize that the way I saw the world didn't satisfactorily answer the questions that life posed to me. I started to wonder if it were possible to be a Christian and actually think differently than I was taught to think and still be "saved." The thought frightened me a little.

The last four years or so have been a time of intense questioning and searching for me. Rather than turn my back on my faith, I feel like my faith in Jesus Christ has deepened and matured as I've tried to rethink issues I assumed I had already figured out. I have by no means come to the end of my search. But I've come to the point of accepting the fact that I don't know everything and can never know everything, and there's a certain freedom in admitting you just don't know! I've learned to live with disconnect, with uncertainties, and with unanswered questions.

I've been thinking about starting a blog for some time-- not to point fingers, not to try to change people's minds, but rather as a humble offering to those who may also be searching and questioning everything they thought to be true. I hope to offer some of my thoughts on hot-button issues and maybe some lesser known issues, areas of disagreement for people of the Christian faith-- from theology, to politics, to science and beyond.

Francis S. Collins, in his book The Language of God says, "...mature observers are used to living on slippery slopes and deciding on where to place a sensible stopping point." This blog is about finding those "sensible stopping points." I hope you will help me in that search. Welcome.

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One simple request-- feel free to comment, but please keep all comments civil and respectful. I don't mind questions and comments that challenge the status quo-- I strongly encourage them-- but I will not tolerate mean-spiritedness. Thank you.