No Doubt?

When do we stop being spiritual seekers? Certainly, through a faith commitment to Jesus, we move from the theological category “lost” to the category “found.” But does the seeking ever truly end? Should it?

I’ve often heard it said that Job was a hero because, though he suffered greatly, he never questioned God. Oh really? I wonder if people who say this have ever actually read some of the things Job said out of his anguish. Have they read his expressions of agony, his wrestling, his frustration, his sense that God was not even listening? The message of the book of Job certainly isn’t “never question God.” For me personally, one of the strongest messages of the book of Job and its inclusion in the canon of Scripture is the brutally honest acknowledgement that confusion—serious, painful confusion … and suffering … and questioning … and doubt … and inner turmoil—are part of the human experience. They are part of any human’s relationship with God. There are moments of confusion and darkness for all of us.

Yet there’s an implicit expectation in the church that Christian leaders are to be somehow immune to this. Pastors, missionaries, parachurch workers, Bible study leaders—they certainly never have doubts, right? And if, for some strange reason they did have doubts, they absolutely should never mention them to anyone.

I have noticed one exception to this general rule.

I’ve occasionally heard brave and honest men and women share publicly about times of doubt in their lives—but it has always, without exception, been after the fact. In other words, once you’ve made it through a time of spiritual difficulty or theological wrestling, then (and only then) is it okay to talk about it.

Have you ever heard a pastor or ministry leader stand up and say, “Right now my spiritual life is a mess. Right now I’m really wrestling with some logical/ethical/spiritual/Scriptural issue, and I’m not sure where I’ll land. Right now I feel like God has abandoned me. Right now I’m waiting for proof/an answer/comfort/satisfaction.”

I never have. After all, it’d be quite dangerous. It could possibly even be contagious! It could lead non-Christians to think this life with Jesus isn’t all its cracked up to be. It could lead immature Christians to give up their faith. And it certainly would lead some in the church to question that person’s qualifications for leadership.

So what’s a leader to do when she has doubts? When she’s wrestling inside, unsatisfied with some Christian idea and in the process of teasing out the issues with God? Or when she’s knocking on God’s door and not getting an answer? Should she just hide out in a closet until she’s somehow made it through (alone) and has got a great testimony to share?

Poor Thomas got labeled a doubter throughout the rest of human history because he voiced his (reasonable) disbelief that Jesus had actually risen from the dead. But we must take note: Thomas was not reprimanded by Jesus for his declaration. In fact, Jesus willingly gave Thomas the proof he needed. Jesus satisfied Thomas’s questions, and the result was Thomas’s life-altering declaration, “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:28).

Thomas’s authenticity is a powerful example that strikes a blow at the dangerous idea that Christian leaders should never express doubt. His expression of doubt led to a commitment of lordship that gave Thomas the courage to later travel throughout India and possibly Persia with the Gospel, eventually being martyred for his unswerving faith.

What can we learn from Thomas or from Job? Though we must take seriously the danger of sharing doubts or questions in a way that could hurt the faith of others, we must also aim to be authentic about our experience as a Christian and human being. Leaders who keep their human frailty completely hidden away are fakes. Though they may inspire others by their public example, they aren’t really showing what it means to be a human being with faith in Jesus. Sometimes faith really is as small as a mustard seed—or even much, much smaller! Sometimes faith is microscopic. Sometimes faith feels weak and tiny, and like it’s barely hanging on. Leaders who hide this reality away inevitably hurt others by presenting a distorted picture of the Christian life.

I don’t know the answer to this dilemma, other than seeing the dangers of both extremes. Broadcasting doubts and spiritual problems for all to hear certainly isn’t wise nor is it caring toward those of tender faith whom you’re nurturing. But hiding away all spiritual struggle and wearing a “mature-Christians-never-doubt” façade is just as dangerous. It presents a false faith to those we minister to—an inhuman, unreal faith.

When you face doubts, struggles, or are unsure where you land on big theological issues, do you speak openly about your questions? If so, what’s been the result? Do you feel the freedom, as a Christian leader, to be real about your struggles? Or do you feel the pressure to hide them away? Who’s a leader to turn to in order to express spiritual struggles? I’d love to hear your own thoughts and experiences.

Spiritual Casualties of Gender Wars

Earlier this summer, in her excellent post “Weary of the Gender Wars,” Nancy Parkhurst Leafblad presents a compelling portrait of how she was unwillingly conscripted into a war not of her making when she followed God’s call into ministry. This article carries on from her ideas.

Nancy Parkhurst Leafblad describes how she found herself in a war she never wanted, because she is a woman with pastoral gifts working in the church. She is not alone. Women may enter vocational ministry well aware of spiritual warfare yet completely unaware of gender warfare until they are already in the thick of the battle. This certainly happened to me. From early on I had a strong theological bent and was delighted when I was able to enroll in the ThM degree program at Dallas Seminary in 1986, the first year they opened that program to women students. Comments about my presence there were usually easily deflected by the reply that I was training for work as an overseas missionary. Though I didn’t know it at the time, those conversations were the beginning of an ongoing pattern of defending my call to those who thought it should be for men only.

Unlike Nancy, however, my main battles have not been fought in the academy but in the trenches amid the realities of daily ministry. (For a few stories, see my earlier post, “How We Treat the Missionary Wife.”) The academy continues to debate, as she points out, but in my trenches the battle is mostly waged by silence. The question of women in ministry is rarely mentioned and is considered as settled: women belong in home-and-family-based ministry. In the countries and churches where I have served and in the organization that sent me, I have been one of the few voices speaking out in favor of seeing missionary women as vocational workers for God’s kingdom.

For the most part the missionary women around me have also chosen to do battle through silence, staying out of the spotlight and getting the job done. Their faithfulness and perseverance show that they are compelled by that same calling from Christ and love for him that motivates their brother-workers.

It took quite a few years for me to realize that this war is every bit as difficult as the spiritual warfare we encounter on the mission field, and with potential consequences that are just as serious. Perhaps it is simply another aspect of the spiritual war that we are all fighting. There are personal stakes like my own health and sanity. There are marriage and relational stakes, affecting the good of my husband and children. There are also the women in my organization who need me to be a voice on their behalf. But far larger and more significant are the stakes for God’s kingdom here on earth.

These stakes are the same whether we are in North America or the furthest corner of the earth.
We are here to be agents of transformation. We have a life-giving, life-changing message, one that many are hungry to hear. Yet we forget who the real enemy is. We forget what the battle is really about. The enemy is not the women who willingly obey God’s calling on their lives, but Satan who wants to divide us and detract from God’s glory. Those believers who deny Christ’s call on their sisters to certain kinds of ministry, just because they are women, are falling prey to spiritual warfare and hurting the body of Christ. Whether the warrior woman is lost due to spiritual attack or to “friendly fire,” she is still lost to the cause of Christ on earth. The casualties from the “Gender Wars” are every bit as damaging as the casualties from spiritual warfare, yet totally unnecessary.

In 2 Corinthians 6 Paul recounts the sufferings he has gone through at the hands of unbelievers for the cause of Christ. After listing them, he appeals to the Corinthians believers in these words (vv12-13): We have spoken freely to you, Corinthians, and opened wide our hearts to you. We are not withholding our affection from you, but you are withholding yours from us. As a fair exchange—I speak as to my children—open wide your hearts also.

As a Christian vocational worker I would like to use the same words to appeal to my brother-workers: We women have opened wide our hearts to you and not withheld our labor, our obedience to God’s call or our affection for Christ. As a fair exchange, open your hearts to us and accept us as fellow-laborers for God’s kingdom. Let us stand shoulder to shoulder with you as we fight the true battle to which God has called us both.

Over-Trained and Overwhelmed Leaders

Since I’d heard some buzz about the book, I was happy to accept the invitation for GFL to part of its “blog tour” along with our sister site, SmallGroups.com. After reading the following passage from chapter 17 of Sticky Church, I became even more excited about sharing this with you all.

Can’t wait to hear what you have to say about this excerpt from Larry Osborne’s Sticky Church:

When we at North Coast Church began our small group ministry, we fell into a common trap.

We overtrained.

Our goal was to have the best-equipped small group leaders in America. So every fall, we hosted an all-day training event for our leaders and hosts. Every month we set aside an extra evening for building community and further training. Every week, we provided a cassette tape designed to prepare leaders for the coming week’s study.

We thought we were providing top-drawer training. But most of our leaders didn’t see it that way. For them, it wasn’t great training as much as information overload…..

Much of the problem stemmed from an all too common disconnect between those of us who are in professional ministry and those of us who volunteer for frontline ministry. We tend to view meetings and time commitments through very different lenses.

Most small group leaders have jobs that demand a minimum of 40 to 50 hours a week. Many have a lengthy commute. Some have kids in sports programs that demand hours each day and an entire morning or afternoon each weekend. Some even dare to have a favorite hobby or special interest!

But staff members tend to view job and church involvement as one. A monthly training meeting isn’t an extra night out as much as a part of the work week. In fact, some staff members take the afternoon off as compensation, or sleep in late the next morning to “recover.” It’s the same for things like our weekly training audio. It may take many hours of prep to put it together, but again it’s all part of the job. No one on the ministry staff listens to it during their off hours.

All this tends to make pastors and staff members insensitive to the time crunch that lay leaders feel. Whereas volunteers come to extra training meetings exhausted, staff members come ramped up, rested, and ready to do their thing.

The first sign that something was wrong with our approach to training was the increased amount of effort it took to get people to come to the meetings or listen to the weekly audio recordings. We tried adding incentives. We provided higher-quality refreshments. We brought in guest speakers. We made the meetings shorter. We tried drive-by guiltings. We tried making all of our meetings a requirement.

Nothing worked.

Finally it dawned on me that maybe we were asking too much. While our leaders wanted training (at least they told us so), they didn’t want it in the way we were providing it.

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So, honestly, my first reaction to this passage was, “No, duh.” But the good news is, the chapter goes on to outline some solid, practical revisions to their training techniques. I wonder what ways you all have found that effectively train leaders without overwhelming them.

What Not to Wear

You are about to read a post about women and clothing. It probably cannot get more stereotypical, but before you cringe and click out of this window, I beg you to come along. This is about the community of God—not the power of the pedicure.

I once exchanged ideas with two male seminary classmates. Graduation was near, and as we chatted about the students moving into pastoral roles, we tossed out the name of a very talented female graduate. “I wonder what Sally will do?” I said. Sally was smart, savvy, and anointed in a powerful way. She was also gorgeous and turned the heads of many men (not something she tried to do).

My colleague said this, “Sally is phenomenal, but when she preaches few men will be thinking about God. If you know what I mean.”

“So, you saying she’s too pretty to preach?”

My friend, a very honorable man of God, said basically that only men who have done the hard work of capturing their thoughts will be able to consistently focus on the message. The rest may cave into some tempting thoughts. He was an egalitarian in his views on women, and it saddened him to say this. But he shared from his heart a potential land mine into which women leaders can easily trip.

Another friend recently shared a story from a communion service she attended. In this particular church the pastor served communion from atop a set of steps leading up to the pulpit. The recipient stood a good foot lower than the pastor when receiving the elements. This vulnerable pastor, after serving communion, opened his heart and made a public plea to the females in his congregation. He said simply that as a man trying to honor God, it would help him greatly if women would refrain from wearing low cut blouses on communion day.

The response from the congregation was applause. A clear reminder of the power that something as seemingly benign as a wardrobe choice can have on a community of faith.

So, to risk the stereotypical question, in a consumer-driven, sexually-charged culture, how should a woman in leadership decide what to wear?

And what about the menfolk? This is an issue that reaches farther than a pair of heels. I often joke about what I call “pastor hair.” How many young, emerging leaders sporting a spiked do with edgy glasses (think Rob Bell) do you know? Others spend a good chunk of time perfecting the worship leader look (David Crowder admits to this in his book “Sunsets and Sushi”).

When attending youth conventions I could always spot the youth pastors as they boarded the plane. Cargo shorts, a goatee, and a t-shirt stating support of some edgy cause. People in ministry think about these things. I am not saying this is time well spent but at times I am aware it can be the reflection of an earnest desire to connect with a particular sub-culture.

To navigate the pitfalls of ego, temptation, and consumerism, female leaders need to make wise, God-honoring choices when it comes to how we dress. As women, we need to recognize the struggle that most men face (statistics say 80 percent are tempted by pornography). And even though women should not receive blame for the thought lives of men, women can help or hinder their chances of triumph. In 1 Corinthians 8, Paul reminds us to live so that we do not become stumbling blocks to one another.

We need to think wisely about these choices and engage the conversation. Just as my friend’s pastor did when serving communion. How freeing to publicly engage these private struggles so many face? How honoring to our men, women, youth pastors, students, and marriages to bring these conversations to light? For both women in the pulpit and youth pastors on the plane, how we dress and why we worry about it is ultimately something God does indeed find important as it reflects a larger reality, how we value and view one another as brothers and sisters in Christ.

Displaying God's Splendor

I am a Texan through and through. It has for years been my dream to move back to Texas, but I’m pretty sure that will never happen.

So I decided to bring Texas to Florida—to my family room. I have acquired several genuine Texas items, including an old tin Texas flag, bluebonnet coasters, a wild horse sculpture, a lone star paperweight and many others.

But I needed a just right piece to go above our fireplace. I found it when I was in Galveston with my mother and sisters. On the wall of a fabulous art gallery was an awesome G. Harvey painting called “Turning the Lead.” It portrays a dark and stormy night; the moon is breaking through the clouds, reflecting in the puddles on the red dirt. Two weathered cowboys are attempting to turn the lead steer and thus stop the stampeding herd of longhorns.

I ordered a print, and when it came, I spent hours picking out just the right frame and matting for the picture and for our home. The mottled rust colored frame picked up the red dirt. The beige, suede matting provided lightness and texture. Both were perfect for displaying the beauty of the painting.

When I brought the framed picture home—and my sweet husband painstakingly hung it—I was awestruck. I turned off all the lights but the one highlighting the art. Yes, the frame was just right. And the suede matting was unique. But I didn’t focus on them. They did their job of framing the beauty of the painting—of displaying its splendor. And that is what I looked at, enjoyed, appreciated.

That’s how it is with God. He says to each of us, "You are my servant, in whom I will display my splendor.” (Isaiah 49:3)
We are designed to reflect him and his glory. So he carefully crafts us—through creation, giftedness, circumstances—to make us the perfect frame and matting to beautifully display his splendor.

What a great privilege and high calling to display the splendor of God!

The Art of Rebinding

I recently had my Bible rebound. I’ve had it for more than a decade, and it’s literally travelled tens of thousands of miles with me—physically and spiritually. Its pages provided comfort during the long dark winters in Alaska, hope during times of transition when we returned to Colorado, and wisdom for various steps along the way. In the end, I spent a $123 to get the wrinkled pages of my Bible pressed, additional blank pages added to the back, five new ribbons, and a genuine leather covers that smells, well, like fresh cow skin. Yum.

But in all honesty, I was really paying for were the things money couldn’t buy: the years of notes, the prayer lists, the underlined and circled passages, the dates where particular scriptures were the most impactful. Those are the things money can’t bind. Priceless.

The whole process of having a book rebound is counterintuitive in our fast-paced, highly disposable world. Some have suggested that I should have just ordered a new Bible. From a fiscal perspective, they’re right. Most Bibles are a whole lot less expensive, and the process would have been quicker. But there’s something wonderful about that which is old, tried, and true. This whole book binding experienced has raised the question of what else should I be holding onto? What else should I try to restore?

Who have I lost touch with who used to be significant in my life? Which people poured into me years ago who only now are seeing some of the fruits of their labors? What connections did I have in leadership and ministry that in the busyness of everyday demands have slipped away? What activities did I used to love that I’ve let go of? Which relationships are frayed but need to be rebound?

Indeed, rebinding takes many forms. Sometimes it’s meant for old, leathery Bibles whose pages have are falling out. Other times it meant for people, who need to share the greater story of what God has been doing over the last few (or many) years.

What in your life is ready to be rebound?

When We Can't Agree to Disagree

The idea that men and women are created differently, in ways that complement each other, sounds okay. But often, this “equal but different” thinking results in a hierarchy that can lead to distortions of truth, or even emotional and physical abuse.

For years, I thought that as with many theological side issues, sincere Christians can agree to disagree when it comes to gender roles. Some churches let women lead and teach the whole congregation, others interpret the Bible to say that women can only lead and teach other women, and in some cases, there are limits beyond even that. (I’ve heard of one church that doesn’t allow a woman to be the head of women’s ministries.)

I disagreed with this view, known as Complementarianism, but I figured, well, if that’s how they roll, then okay. But now, I’m starting to change my mind: often, it is not okay. Because if you take Complementarianism to the extreme, it becomes destructive.

Last week I received an e-mail linking to a news story that alleges that Saddleback Church in California counseled a woman to stay in an abusive marriage and also scolded her for “gossiping” about her marriage when she tried to ask for help (this story was all over Twitter and Facebook this week too). Saddleback (led by Purpose-Driven pastor Rick Warren) teaches Complementarianism—the wife must submit to her husband and that divorce in this instance is not an option.

For the record, Saddleback pastor Tom Holladay told GFL he could not reveal specifics of confidential pastoral counseling, but that Saddleback always counsel a woman (or man) in an abusive situation to leave and find a place of safety. They would, however, urge couples to get counseling and try to reconcile.

In the family, Complementarianism plays out like this: the man is the head of the household, and the ultimate authority. They cite Ephesians 5:22, which says that a wife must submit to her husband, and the husband should love his wife. The woman must submit to that authority, which comes with the man’s protection and provision. There are plenty of women who obviously want protection and provision.

They conclude that the husband is the head of the family. I cannot find a verse in scripture that says a man is supposed to be the head of the family. What the Bible says is that the relationship between a man and his wife is like a head and a body.

Egalitarians (the opposite of Complementarian) like myself see the head and body analogy is an illustration of the unity, or oneness that God intended in creation. A husband and wife need to be a team, like a head and a body. A body needs the head, the head needs the body. We cite the same biblical passage, but we look at the wider context, starting with verse 21: “Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ” (emphasis mine). While someone (likely not a female translator) put a subhead right after verse 21, in the original text there were no subheads. So the next verses explain mutual submission—wives, submit to your husbands, and husbands, love your wives. Paul is talking about unity and oneness. He concludes his teaching with a reminder of the oneness theme, and mutual nature of submission: “each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband” (Eph. 5:33).

In churches that embrace Complementarianism, women rarely have the right to exercise their leadership gifts fully. When a church says that the man has more authority, can use his gifts more freely, it communicates a value (intended or not) that men are of greater value. And so if a woman (who has less value) complains of abuse, it is easy in that system to discount what she says, or blame her. So in addition to being abused by her husband, the woman is also abused by her church.

Think that doesn’t happen? In 2008, Southern Baptist Theological Seminary professor Bruce Ware said that when women, “as sinners” try to usurp their husband’s authority and “do what they would like to do,” their husbands--also as sinners--might “respond to that threat to their authority” by being abusive (http://equalitycentral.com/blog/?p=14).

If marriage is understood as a hierarchy, then the person at the top of that structure can easily conclude that he has permission to do what is necessary to maintain power. We cannot simply say, “Well-intentioned Christians can agree to disagree” if those Christians argue that abuse is the husband’s prerogative, or worse, the wife’s fault. It is where we must stand up for true Christianity, which does not condone violence in any form, and which teaches mutual submission, not hierarchy.

[Editorial Note: The original post contained words claiming Ware blamed the abused for the abuse. We have since removed it as it was apparently an incorrect intrepretation and representation of his words. Dr. Ware disputed that this is what he intended in this quote and condemned abuse as a sinful response. GFL apologizes to Dr. Ware for this and hopes this further opens up dialogue on the issues of abuse in church and of the ramifications of our interpretations and our words. Blessings!]

Ministry in the Moment

Lately I’ve been struck at how full my life has become. Between family, friends, church, home and job as a hospital chaplain (complete with a pager that seems to go off when it’s least convenient), my calendar doesn’t have much white space. I am, in a word, busy. As a churchgoer, I’ve heard countless sermons on the dangers of being busy. But lately I’m beginning to think that maybe busyness is not the real problem. Instead, I’m moving towards identifying a different issue—a deeper one—that begs addressing. The issue of how I choose to respond to God, and others, in the midst of my busyness. In other words: Do I choose to remain available to love/serve others in those moments that are not planned, not scripted, or fail to fit neatly into my schedule?

As a woman who longs to lead as Jesus led, this question moves me to look at Jesus’ view of busyness. And as I read the Gospels, a shocking reality emerges: it doesn’t appear that Jesus had a problem with busyness. Just consider his life. Jesus was constantly on the move, traveling from town to town, engaging religious leaders, healing the sick, casting out demons, sitting with outcasts, mentoring disciples, teaching multitudes, etc. I am fairly confident that if Jesus had carried a Blackberry, or an iPhone, his calendar would have appeared full to overflowing, not to mention his email inbox. However, unlike most of us, he never allowed his busyness to trump his availability.

Even in the midst of busyness, Jesus stayed ever watchful for unscripted opportunities to love and serve—always ready for ministry in the moment. In fact, multiple times throughout the Gospels we encounter some variation of the phrase, “As he (Jesus) was on his way.” This phrase consistently precedes stories of Jesus stopping to help someone in need. No matter where Jesus was headed—or what he needed to accomplish—he was never too pressed, too hurried, too stressed, too preoccupied to stop and minister in the moment.

But what allowed Jesus to remain available? How did he manage to stay open to interruptions amidst the craziness of his life? One striking idea surfaces as I read accounts of Jesus’ life: Jesus clearly understood his purpose/calling and prioritized accordingly.

For example, the Gospel of Luke tells the story of Jesus, at only 12 years of age, lingering at the temple to dialogue with the religious leaders. When Jesus’ parents finally find him, and question what he is doing, he responds: “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house.” Translation: “Are you surprised that doing my Father’s business is my primary purpose?” Maybe you’re wondering what your calling/purpose is? Well, Jesus gives us place to start when he instructs us to focus our lives around two activities (and two activities only): Loving God and loving others (Matthew 22:36-40).

Understanding his purpose allowed Jesus to prioritize. Understanding our purpose allows us to do the same. Many leaders I know (myself included) struggle with prioritizing. In the spirit of wanting to help everyone, we tend to stretch ourselves too thin; and in doing so we risk rendering ourselves less effective than if we’d set good boundaries at the start. But, Jesus did not try to do it all (even though, as God in flesh, he was certainly capable). Instead, Jesus stayed focused on carrying out his Father’s will to lovingly invite the sinners, the broken and the undeserving back into relationship with God. And with this priority in mind, Jesus was always willing to stop and care for the leper, the outcast, the ‘least of these’ who needed his touch even in the midst of his busy life.

The fact that Jesus found it important to clearly articulate his purpose, and prioritize his time accordingly, challenges me to ask myself if I can do the same. As women called to godly leadership, I believe we must spend time in prayer, study of God’s Word and dialogue with other godly individuals to better understand what it looks like to live out the two-fold purpose of loving God with abandon, and loving others as ourselves. Only as we do this, we will begin to better discern which interruptions are really opportunities and be better prepared to be ministers in the moment.