church and culture

Kissing Fish: Christianity for People Who Don’t Like Christianity
By Roger Wolsey
Xlibris Corporation

It’s important to remember while reading Kissing Fish: Christianity for People Who Don’t Like Christianity, that the stated purpose of this book is to reach out to those who “don’t currently identify as being Christian, or who do privately, but are hesitant to let others know because the word “Christian” has come to be associated with behaviors, stances, and attitudes that they don’t want to be associated with.” The author brings an evangelistic passion for offering a broader, more progressive point of view to those who for one reason or another stand apart from Christianity. I understand his fervor, having experienced the same frustrations and hurts from within conservative Christianity that much of Wolsey’s target audience has seen and felt. However, at times the tone of the book seems to reflect the very type of thinking that the author criticizes in the parts of conservative Christianity that say, “This is why they are off base, and why we are right.” I admit, at one time this stance would have felt affirming to me. However, at this point in my faith journey, I wonder if that posture only creates more confusion about it all.

The book is best understood through the author’s profoundly personal faith journey that has shaped his beliefs and devotion. Roger Wolsey is an ordained United Methodist pastor who serves on the campus of the University of Colorado. “I shouldn’t be a Christian,” he tells us, “The odds were against it.” His deep disappointment with the church as a youth and young adult confused him about God and repelled him from the church. His faith was later re-ignited through time spent with an intimate community that was “unobtrusive, authentic, down to earth and intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually satisfying.” He came to love Christianity through their communal lens, in contrast to the more individualistic “flying solo” lens of the more conservative traditions that he had seen.

Through his own story, Wolsey seeks to advocate an understanding of Christianity that speaks to today’s postmodern young adults who “embrace a more nuanced, experiential, paradoxical, mystical and relational approach to faith and spirituality” than what has been presented to them through the more outspoken and fundamentalist forms. In this light Wolsey presents his treatise on Progressive Christianity, which he claims, actually “represents a reformation of the church to its earlier, pre-modernist and pre-Constantine roots.” He adds, “Ironically, this implies that in reality, it is progressive Christianity that is conservative and “conservative Christianity” isn’t.”

He offers a series of contrasts and challenges to consider that juxtapose conservative and progressive Christian thought. For example, there are many statements such as, “Conservative Christianity focuses on the religion about Jesus and getting people to agree with certain intellectual truth claims and that its important for people to believe all these things here and now so that they can go to heaven when they die. Progressive Christianity focuses on a more radical way of life, namely, the counter-cultural, subversive and life-giving teachings of Jesus.” And, “Conservative Christianity emphasizes people’s personal relationships with God, Progressive Christianity remembers the Jewish (and Jesus’) understanding of salvation by additionally focusing upon the broader pursuits of inter-human hesed (loving kindness) and the societal Kingdom of God and striving for personal wholeness and social peace, justice and liberation from oppression and bondage.” There are many who will resonate with the first halves of the statements, weary of the narrowness of focus in the conservative church. The progressive alternative is certainly compelling. And the author’s intent is to offer a different lens upon what it means to follow Jesus, and in that he succeeds. However, I do have to wonder if the portrayals of conservative Christianity– and in all fairness I must add that conservatism has made me want to scream all too often– are perhaps too reductionistic and therefore, unfair. Then again, maybe not. Even so, the propensity within us to vilify the other, whomever they may be, stands in sharp contrast to Jesus’ imperative to love one another (even those with whom we disagree) and that is something that I wish the author had addressed with more force.

All that aside, there is much in what Wolsey presents as progressive Christianity that is beautiful and hopeful. He takes on a hefty task by exploring a wide range of topics such as liberation theology, process theology and openness theology. In addition, he explores current hot spots such as the nature of the atonement, the realities of heaven and hell, eschatology, and the problem of theodicy. He also addresses differences and problems of interpretation of scripture and the hermeneutical lenses that both enhance and distort our reading. Obviously, in a work of this length these topics cannot be fully explored. In order to be thorough and fair (to both sides), this work could or should have been multiple books. But his ideas serve as conversation starters, designed to challenge and captivate the minds of those who are frustrated by their perception of the Christian gospel, and to answer some of their struggles.

Problems to be aware of include the fact that Wolsey appears to speak as if Progressive Christianity is a singular group with a clear statement of faith. He also does not clearly differentiate between what is progressive and what is liberal Christianity. (Many of my Progressive friends tell me pointedly that there is a difference!) Finally, the author often approaches issues as if there are just two possible points of view, conservative or progressive. The diversity of thinking within the Catholic Church as well as well as a multitude of Protestant traditions (and Eastern Orthodox) do bring much more varied and diverse perspectives to all of the issues discussed. Again, the point of the book is to address those who have been repelled by certain strains of conservative Christianity and to offer them what the author has found to be a life-giving alternative. But its hard not to feel as though the vast diversity of the Body of Christ has been diminished a bit by lumping all of us into one of these two categories.

The most compelling arguments for the author’s point of view lie in the last few chapters of the book which emphasize both personal practices such as prayer, forgiveness and reconciliation, and the outward practices of serving and loving others. Wolsey’s passion and compassion for our hurting world is palpable. The “love chapters” push past all of the theological arguments of who or what best represents Christianity, and bring to mind Jesus’ words, “You will know [my followers] by their fruits.” Progressive Christians value orthopraxis, the “right” and radical way of love taught by Jesus. It is here that we are presented with a Christianity that is truly worth giving our all.

Even with all of the problems of the book, it’s hard to dismiss the zeal of a man who desires to entice college students (and yeah, probably the rest of us too) to follow Jesus and help to create the Kingdom of God in the here and now. Wolsey says, “Christians are called to be peacemakers and evangelists of the Christian gospel of forgiveness of sins. Christian are also called to be justice makers – people who do what they can do to create a world where there will be as few sins and transgressions committed as possible. For we know that there will be less to forgive if there are fewer sins and offenses committed. And we know there’ll be less of a need for bandages in a world where ‘justice rolls on like a river, and righteousness like a never-failing stream.’” (Amos 5:24)

It’s a worthy read.

[February 2012 Synchroblog] Economic Inequality: Coming Back to Our Senses

February 7, 2012

church and culture, community, conversations, generative Christianity, Kingdom, politics, social justice, spiritual formation, stuff to ponder, Synchroblog

8 Comments

Our Synchroblog this month explores the ever-expanding gap between rich and poor in our country and others. Reports show that this gap is has reached its highest level in 30 years. One only needs to look at history to see that money equals power in this world. And when so much power is in the hands of a few, the many are disadvantaged. The extremely poor are even more at a disadvantage. Dr. Cornel West says, “Poverty is an economic catastrophe, inseparable from the power of greedy oligarchs and avaricious plutocrats indifferent to the misery of poor children, elderly citizens and working people.”

I didn’t want to be part of this blog. It gives me a pain in the gut to think about these things. I have seen few issues create more anger and divisiveness than this one. I have seen it turn seemingly civil and kind people into raging, snarling foes. Even for those who can contain their anger, there remains a certain unwillingness to see the plight of others who are impacted by their views. And I have no solutions. I do believe that re-regulating Wall St.* and insisting that the very rich and the big corporations pay their fair share in taxes is the right thing to do. That’s just common sense. But I don’t know how to change our love for this beast that ensnares our lives. We need to try. There are over 2,000 verses in the Bible that reference the poor. That’s a significant clue that this is supposed to matter.

In all honesty, all I know to do is call out to the church, for we are the embodiment of Jesus now. Jesus turns power upside-down. He is the one who takes an axe to the roots of systems that exploit and oppress. Like Jesus, we are the persistent little stream of water that gradually softens the rock hard foundations of the structures of power. I don’t know so much about what to do, but I do think we can explore who we are meant to be.

I have come to believe that money stands in opposition to the Kingdom. There is nothing else about which Jesus gave such an explicit warning. He made it very plain in the Sermon on the Mount: “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.” (Mt. 6:24) Jesus is rarely so dualistic in his thinking. But here He is very plain. It’s either/or.

Money seems to break down the very essence of who we are meant to be as human beings. It disembodies our faith. It quickly divides us into the haves and have-nots, distancing us from the realities of each others’ lives. The money/power thing exposes how one of the saddest questions in the scripture has played out throughout time: “Am I my brothers’ keeper?” With the heart of Cain, our answer is a loud and definitive, no. We do write out our checks to a local charity or dish out food at a homeless shelter. But truthfully, we are the jealous workers in the vineyard, so afraid that someone will get something they don’t deserve, especially when we’ve worked so hard.

We have forgotten that the source of the goods we produce buy and sell were never ours to begin with. We are divorced from the acts of others in our communities that make it possible for us to work at all, to manufacture, create, transport materials, or buy and sell anything. The further away we have moved from tilling the earth to forth food in order to survive, the more disembodied our lives and services have become. Trading stocks and making decisions that affect the lives of millions have become an a-moral acts, truly distanced and disconnected from the men, women and children who are affected. Finally, we have dared to believe that what we have earned is our own. We have hidden ourselves away from any reminder that in truth we all are needy, dependent people because our very ability to think and create and work comes from God from the start.

Christianity involves coming back to ourselves as a whole. Jesus is not just a ticket to heaven, but the means of reconciliation and restoration to a communal life of Shalom, which is a community of universal flourishing, wholeness and delight**. Even the Our Father prayer invokes community. Together we say, “Give US this day OUR daily bread.” This Jesus thing is all about being intimately connected with the needs and realities of the other.

In small ways and within small groups, some things are beginning to change. Churches are connecting with those who create community gardens for themselves and others in need. This allows for the dignity of taking part in working for all, as well. Interest is growing in establishing more local, sustainable food supplies. There is a renewed interest in handmade goods and skills. People are simplifying their lives and getting rid of stuff. With less to protect, perhaps we’ll have more to share. With less to protect, we may recover faith in a new way. We might actually remember what it means to trust for our daily bread, trusting God by trusting each other. Maybe we’ll also remember what is means to be grateful.

In light of all this, I celebrate a woman with a level of faith I don’t know yet: Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents. Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.”

[*Seriously, how did de-regulation happen? Was everyone asleep? That de-regulation happened was a clear example of the power wielded by those with extreme wealth.]
[** The word shalom is described in "Not The Way It’s Supposed to Be: A Breviary of Sin", by Cornelius Plantinga, Jr.]

LInks to the other Synchrobloggers will be added as they come in:

Marta Layton - Fear Leads to Anger. Anger Leads to hate …

Kathy Escobar - Pawn Shops, Empty Refrigerators, The Long Hill Up

Carol Kuniholm - Wondering About Wealth

Glenn Hager - Shrinking The Gap

Jeremy Myers - Wealth Distribution

Liz Dyer - The First Step Is Admitting There Is A Problem

Ellen Haroutunian - Economic Inequality: Coming Back To Our Senses

K.W. Leslie – Wealth, Christians, and Justice

Abbie Watters – My Confession

Steve Hayes – Obscenity

Hope is Held Between Us [Provoketive Magazine]

January 18, 2012

church and culture, community, conversations, generative Christianity, Kingdom, Living Orthodoxy, real church, spiritual formation, Synchroblog

5 Comments

[This month our Synchroblog partnered with Provoketive Magazine. See below for links to other Synchrobloggers.]

Sometimes, ok, perhaps it’s often, I weary of the discipline it takes to stay faithful to the routines of tending life. I begin to skimp on the practices that nurture body, mind, soul and community. Fortunately, every now and then something wonderful comes along to enliven my efforts.

My husband and I met with friends for dinner a couple of nights ago. They are the type of friends with whom you always wish you could spend much more time. We enjoyed delicious food, wine, conversation, and heaping platefuls of hope. Interestingly, we had decided beforehand that we would discuss the end of the world. We were only half-joking. This idea was instigated by the distress of another mutual friend, a very wealthy man, over his fear of an impending world-wide economic collapse. He was ready to liquidate all his assets, pack up and move to South America. (I am not sure why South America would be better if the whole world was in trouble but there you have it.) One of our dinner mates is also in the financial world and well acquainted with the inner workings of the struggling economy. We looked forward to hearing what she might have to say.

We agreed that the mutual-friend-turned-conversation-starter is very bright and very rational man. This reaction seemed very out of character for him. But this sort of thinking is entrenched in our collective psyches and probably has been since the beginning of time. We are all afraid of what we cannot control. We are all afraid of loss. This fear is amplified through the lens of round the clock disaster movies and documentaries, and the Mayan, Nostradamus and Left Behind theories that all seek to interpret many world events in catastrophic terms. In response, there are survivalist websites selling packaged food and gear. Self-protective instincts run deep.

Our conversation moved to what if? Specifically, if major calamity does strike, how do people of faith respond? How do we create safe space for ourselves and how do we care for our neighbors? How do we share meager supplies with those who have run out? How do we offer the hospitality of God?

And, what would it be like? Would desperation finally push us to the faith that we have not grown into yet? You know, the kind of faith that feeds 5,000 from a few loaves and fishes, the faith that heals sickness and that finds the coins we need in the mouths of fish? We had no answers. These probably weren’t our real questions anyway. We have not been asked to live this way, not yet.

It was in this context that one friend brought up the idea of spiritual eldering. Spiritual elders are the folks who have been around a while. They have seen suffering and they have seen great beauty. They have seen heart-breaking betrayals, and they have seen love and sacrifice like that of Christ himself. They have seen faith fail and they have seen grace overflow. These are the ones who have “set their faces towards Jerusalem”, that is, they have set out finally on the journey that is Christ’s. They have seen Kingdom and can do nothing else but live in a way that brings it forth. They have let go of what brings only fleeting hope here on earth. They have learned what is truly important.

And there we were, the four of us, each moving into our sixth decade on earth. We recognized that we are entering the elder stage. And of course, none of us felt ready or adequate. My friend then asked, “So, when will we be old enough to give it all away?” It became apparent that while we are not old enough yet, our shared conviction was to move in that direction together as community. This is never a journey that we need walk alone. In that realization, we felt the growing potential, desire, and joy of the possibilities held between us.

Therein lies the hope. We were sitting in communion with friends who hope for Kingdom. Their hearts were for the left behind, the people in need. They were not thinking about preparing for disasters as much as much as learning to be good shepherds. They were concerned about growing into the people we would each need to become in order to bring forth the equities and the sweet, inclusive shalom of Kingdom life, no matter what happens. We all felt caught up in a quiet thrill at the thought of this communal dream. And just for once, the cost didn’t seem to obscure the prize.

None of this stuff would be surprising to my dear mentor nun, Sr. Marilyn. She is a spiritual elder in the truest sense of those words and she is helping to grow us up. She once told me a story of a priest whose South American monastery faced apocalypse when it was invaded by gunmen. The humble priest greeted them with open arms. They shot him. “It was the practices,” said Sister, “that prepared his heart to meet them that way.” Indeed, it was the practices that prepared him for anything.

Richard Rohr notes that in our younger days, we typically use the type of prayer posture that we feel will help to build our careers, fill our coffers, and create a life. As we move towards eldering, we need the kind of prayer practices that help us to let it all go. We need what will bring us to the place where being emptied enough to truly open ourselves to the reality and need of the other, becomes as compelling a desire as any other we have known here. Then, instead of grasping and protecting what is ours, we can begin to walk this earth with arms held open wide.

How do we get there? “Do the practices,” says Sr. Marilyn. “The practices will get you ready.” And the hope birthed by good friends does, too.

[The practices she refers to include regular engagement with faith community, Centering Prayer, Lectio Divina, the daily Examen and others.]

Synchrobloggers at Provoketive Magazine :

The Trouble With Hope: John Ptacek

Hope = Possibility x Imagination: Wayne Rumsby

Little Reminders: Mike Victorino

Where Is My Hope: Jonathan Brink

Hope for Hypocrites: Jeremy Myers

Now These Three Remain: Sonny Lemmons

Perplexed, But Still Hopeful: Carol Kuniholm

A Hope that Lives: Amy Mitchell

Generations Come and Generations Go: Adam Gonnerman

Demystifying Hope: Glenn Hager

God in the Dark: On Hope: Renee Ronika Klug

Keeping Hope Alive: Maurice Broaddus

Are We Afraid to Hope?: Christine Sine

On Wobbly Wheels, Split Churches and Fear: Laura Droege

Adopting Hope: Travis Klassen

Hope is Held Between Us: Ellen Haroutunian

Hope: In the Hands of the Creatively Maladjusted: Mihee Kim-Kort

Paradox, Hope and Revival: City Safari

Good Theology Saves: Reverend Robyn

Linear: Never Was, Never Will Be: Kathy Escobar

Better Than Hope: Liz Dyer

Caroline for Congress: Hope for the Future: Wendy McCaig

Fumbling the Ball on Hope: KW Leslie

Content to Hope: Alise Wright

Hope: Oh, the Humanity!: Deanna Ogle

What is with this rapture stuff?

May 21, 2011

church and culture, conversations, stuff to ponder

2 Comments

Why have so many people gotten so caught up in the rapture warnings of Harold Camping and his group? If you have been hiding under a very big rock, Camping and his followers are a Christian group that believes with absolute certainty that the rapture of the church, which is a belief that Jesus will take his followers suddenly up into heaven, will occur today, May 21, at 6pm ET. They have devoted their time and money to getting the message out in major cities in the US.

The idea has gone viral. This is due at least in part to social networking. Jokes and pictures have been passed around en masse on Facebook and Twitter. I stopped for coffee with a friend a few days ago where they had placed a sign that said: “The world is going to end so you might as well leave a big tip.” Facebook friends are offering “left behind” parties and invitations to post-rapture looting revelry. Many of us plan to be raptured with Bono at the U2 concert tonight. Some plan to fill blow up dolls with helium and release them into the air at 6pm. I am enjoying the humor and the ways in which people stop for conversations about it all. But I can’t help but wonder if there is something deeper going on.

Are we living in an age that has lost hope? The economic collapse has been an Armageddon of sorts for many who have lost their homes and livelihoods. Multiple natural disasters have taken the same from many, many others. Political unrest is increasing around the world. And always, people become cannon fodder for wars and selfish agendas. And through my years in ministry and in counseling practice, I have observed that the brokenness and dysfunctions in the lives and relationships of so many are getting so much worse. The sheer loneliness that I see is overwhelming.

Postmodern thought rose out of broken promises. Science was to cure all diseases and feed everyone on earth. World War I was the war to end all wars. The American Dream was to become a reality for all, well, at least if you are white and straight and American. A friend of mine once observed that much of what Hollywood is producing these days is based on nostalgia. It represents a culture that is looking backwards for its source material, as if there is not enough hope to move forward. Disaster movies have increased in number as well. Something about the end of days has planted itself deep within our psyches.

However, the way a belief roots itself in our collective mindset is through images and stories that grab our imaginations. The narrative of an angry, raging wrathful God that will destroy everything in order to rescue just a few is the product of a system of theological thought that has garnered enough attention to solidify itself into fact. This scenario resonates with our experiences of fear and guilt and powerlessness. We project our stuff onto God and conclude that surely his primary posture towards us all is wrath. But it is only one system of thought. The Story of God brings many more images of hope for all, images that overcome. I do believe that somewhere down deep in our Image-bearing hearts, we know that hope that is only for a few is truly not hope at all.

We all know that there’s a whole lot wrong with this world. However, it seems that this world is crying out for something to answer the fear and guilt of the world with something real. They need more than the “accept Jesus or else” and “this world doesn’t matter” claims. People are desperate to know that God is not about creating a Thomas Kincade life that only a few can achieve. They need to know that God is about making all things new. It is time to tell a better story. After all, God has never reneged on his declaration over all of creation: “It is very good.”

Every week in church we repeat the words, “Christ is making peace amongst us right here, right now. Let us share a sign of peace.” Let’s offer what we truly believe. And if Jesus does come for us all tonight, may he find us living out our hope in the many creative ways in which we can help to restore the beauty of his dream for all of creation.

And if he doesn’t, please enjoy the humor of our friends who are releasing balloon people into the air and leaving clothes and shoes on the sidewalks and jumping on trampolines to get a head start. Humor reflects hope, too!

[Book Review] Half The Church by Carolyn Custis James

April 5, 2011

book review, church and culture, social justice

22 Comments

Half the Church: Recapturing God’s Global Vision for Women
By Carolyn Custis James
Zondervan Publishing
206 pages, including questions for discussion
Zondervan gave me a free copy to give away – leave a comment and I will use a urim and thummim to decide who gets it.

I see what you did there, Carolyn Custis James. I do hope it works.

I wanted to review this book because it addresses gender-based injustices, one of the things that I am most passionate about in life. The title Half the Church is derived from Half the Sky: Turning Oppression Into Opportunity For Women Worldwide, by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn. For those who already care deeply about these issues, that book will be a better investment of time and money. For those who are new to these issues and are curious, Carolyn Custis James’ book can be a good and heartfelt starting place, but it is frustratingly incomplete in offering what is truly needed to find the author’s goal of “God’s vision for his daughters”.

The book was birthed from the author’s awakening to the brutal treatment and lifelong misery that is endured by a large portion of the world’s population simply because they are female. It contains some heart wrenching stories of wife burnings, beatings, forced prostitution and rapes, forced and under-aged marriage, selective abortion, human trafficking, and the fact of the paucity of resources spent on girls in a world that prefers sons, to name just a few. Perhaps to keep her readers from turning away in distaste, the author somewhat underplays the raw horror of these and other injustices. The very real statistics are gruesome. There is an estimated 200 million women missing from the world’s population due to the discrimination and abuse based solely on being born a girl.

Part of the author’s goal is to awaken the church to these brutal realities, and to challenge us to move on the behalf of the powerless and voiceless, living a gospel of action and deed as well as word. James shows herself to be very wise in understanding that the conservative Western church that she addresses has been somewhat resistant when it comes to social justice issues. She is also aware that it tends to see it itself as a unique entity which looks with suspicion upon anything that is new to their understanding of things, no matter how much good might come from it. James treads on delicate and controversial topics, particularly theological ones, with a light but forthright touch. She understands where that part of the church is coming from and what they can and cannot handle. She approaches them with a style and language that will not close their ears.

James does make a strong attempt at defining the “vision for God’s daughters” in addressing the word used to describe woman at her creation, eser, which means helper. Eser does not refer to an assistant or handmaiden, rather, it is a word that is used most often in the scriptures to describe God. James likens it to being a warrior, which is empowering and sheds broader insight on the purposes of the creation of woman beyond childbearing. She also offers a compelling portrait of the leadership capabilities and the positive impact of women in society. The gist of her scriptural studies is to call attention to the essential dignity of womankind, which is something that must be held as absolute if abuses against women are to ever be stopped.

This is a book that needs to be read between the lines. There are some things that cannot be said outright without losing your audience, in this case I believe, the conservative Christians with a complementarian view of women. (For those unfamiliar with this word, it is the theological view that although men and women are created equal in their being and personhood, they are meant to complement each other through maintaining gender-based roles and a husband-headship structure in marriage.) If you step on their views it is likely that your voice will be discounted. As I have said, James deftly skirts around the major landmines, such as the concept of wifely submission. She hints that the traditional view of submission just might create selfishness in men when they believe that women are meant to “pretend that they are less than they are” in their relationships with men. She laments that women are prized for their willingness to give in and this way of thinking leans too heavily on just a few attributes instead of embracing the “full range of qualities that Jesus displayed”. It is a shrewd and subversive way to show that the way in which submissiveness is taught in these church circles could be just as bad as the low view of women in the more troubled places in the world.

At this point, James refuses to take a stand on either a complementarian or egalitarian view of women. I think I understand her reasons. To do so would mean that she would lose much of her audience, particularly those who are complementarian if she comes out as egalitarian, which I suspect she is or soon will be. (Honestly, moving towards egalitarianism is inevitable if one continues to be passionate about gender-based injustice issues as a Christian.) But James squirms out from under the issues with a quote that insists that no-one can know what the 1 Timothy 2 passage means (that is the passage that seems to say women may not teach or have authority over a man). Actually, there has been a great deal of respected scholarly work done around that passage and other passages dealing with women (such as Ephesians 5, the “submission” passage) that can lead to a life-giving and dignifying egalitarian interpretation. To not at least acknowledge that when addressing the serious issues at hand borders on being irresponsible.

When we bring ourselves to the scriptural text, our underlying assumptions and attitudes should be challenged, and the ways in which we cooperate with the abuses of our surrounding culture should be disrupted. James gives a too easy way out to those who perhaps inadvertently support a view of women that enables abuses from facing uncomfortable but necessary challenges to what they believe. Despite all her compelling words, this group will remain largely unchanged. It is simply heart breaking that the Christian message in this part of the church in regards to women is no different from that of the “world”.

Herein lies the greatest weakness of this book. Her refusal to take a stand belies the very core of her argument. For the belief that women are limited to certain roles, that their voices are not as important, welcome or trusted in all arenas (including teaching men) and that they are to be subservient to men continue to feed the lies and misogyny that keep gender-based injustices in place. James admits that at the core of injustice lies the issue of power. Complementarianism lays power squarely in the hands of men. In not addressing this issue adequately, she becomes an accomplice to the view in the world that women are to be controlled and ruled over, and therefore can be treated as chattel.

Certainly, some will be offended by a proclamation of an egalitarian interpretation of scripture and some will turn away. Yet, because James believes in eser as the essence of woman she should therefore act as eser, a warrior for a reading of the Bible text that could shed more light on “God’s vision for his daughters” that can help to release them from the very cruelties she disdains. Ultimately, she does address the problem of gender wars in the church and acknowledges that a higher view of women will foster a healthier view of men as well. We all are in need of a masculine presence that can engage in genuine partnership with women and that is much healthier and stronger than that of those who must quiet the voice of woman in order to serve their own egos. However, there will be no ‘blessed alliance” between men and women as described by James without an honest look at the complicity of the church in the oppression of women.

To be sure, there is a time when it is best to be very gentle and prudent in speaking a potentially disruptive message. But the issues of gender-based injustices are very real and many lives hang in the balance. This is not the time to pander to those who worship their dogma over the preciousness of people. Yes, to take a stand means she will lose readers and perhaps speaking opportunities. Yes, Zondervan would lose readers as well. (And money. ‘Nuff said.) Even so, it is time to take a stand, Evangelical Christian publishing world. It is time to take a stand, Carolyn Custis James. To do any less is an outright betrayal of those who need you most.

Advent Reflection: The Ache for Justice (week 3)

December 19, 2010

advent, church and culture, devotional, liturgical year, reflections

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The Ache for Justice and the Compassion of God
Pomegranate Place – December 16, 2010
by Ellen Haroutunian

Each week, we’ve begun with the lighting of the advent wreath. The first week we lit the shepherds’ candle, recalling the ache for acceptance in us all and the astonishing welcome of God to these folks who were considered unclean due to the nature of their work and who were cast out from polite society and from temple life. They were considered a seedy bunch. Yet they were the first to be invited to worship God-with-us, the infant Jesus. The unclean were invited to a Holy place.

Week two brought us the story of the Magi. They were astronomers and dabbled in magic. Yet their divinations showed them an amazing message from the stars and legend has it that they traveled long distances to seek this newborn King, bringing gifts that prophetically reflected who this baby was and the path His life would take. They represented the ache in the human heart for meaning, and God’s answer in Himself. And here at this coming of God into the world, in the circle of this little Jewish family, strangers with their strange ways and strange worldviews were also welcomed to worship this baby.

We are now in week three of the Advent season, when we light the pink candle. The pink candle represents joy, and it brings a beautiful irony to the story we will engage tonight. The advent candles were originally borrowed from the observance of Lent. Purple represents the idea of repentance and suffering but Lent is also tempered by hint of the coming joy of Easter and resurrection. Tradition says that the Pope used to hand out pink roses during the 3^rd week of Lent as a reminder of the coming joy. That’s where we got the pink candle. The purple of advent also is a call to repentance, that is to change direction and prepare for the coming of God, but there is great joy in the anticipation of His coming.

Read Matthew 2: 13-23 (The Massacre of the Holy Innocents)

That is an intense story, full of mystery and prophecies that would fill dozens of sermons. But there are these couple of verses that describe a horrific crime. This feels like a disconnect, almost a spiritual whiplash – weren’t we just talking about joy? How does this fit? We love the story of the Magi mentioned at the beginning of this Matthew text, who, as Dave mentioned last week, are colorful and intriguing and make it into every Christmas pageant. We love that God drew them from afar and spoke to them through means that they would understand to bring them to the Christ child. We love the story of the humble shepherds and the chorus of angels whose song echoed across the hills in the night. Many of us have a nativity set that contains such characters and many of these sets are quite pretty. Here’s one (see illustration below): it is painted with nice folk art design just like the original one, I’m sure. The stable is clean and the robes of the Magi are tidy and beautiful after their long journey, as are the robes of the new mother and father. There’s no manure and the shepherd doesn’t have B.O. Our quaint nativity scenes don’t often portray the humble reality of poverty and powerless faced by this young couple and their newborn. They don’t show the grit and the dirt, the reality into which God chose to be born as one of us.

I confess that I like the pretty setting. It makes it easier to distance myself from the harsh realities of life faced by the majority of people in this world. Isn’t that our tendency? But then comes the gospel writer Matthew who brings us a part of the story that is almost too much to bear: the slaughter of little ones, baby boys, by the swords and spears of Roman soldiers. In church history this has come to be known as the Massacre of the Holy Innocents.

What is that horrific story doing in the midst of this pretty one?

These children were not outcasts, not strangers from afar. They were the children of the local villages, your neighbors’ kids and mine. Some doubt that this story actually happened because the 1^st century historian Josephus who chronicled so much of Herod’s works didn’t mention this, but others say so many of Herod’s crimes were so horrible that it might not have seemed worth mentioning in comparison. These innocent ones, powerless and voiceless, would have been lost to history. Often, this is still the case, as it is for so many from Darfur or the Congo. The sound of Rachel’s weeping still echoes around this world.

Yet the gospel writer remembers them, right here in the midst of the Christmas story. And they are remembered on December 28^th in the Church calendar each year. They are a reminder that there is no easy comfort for those who have suffered violence or violent loss, whether it be the loss of a child, or the experience of war, or even a wounded place deep within yourself. The coming of the infant Christ into a world that was far too dangerous for babies, and a world that is full of unspeakable sorrows is all that can begin to touch the depth of healing that is needed in the human heart.

We live in a world enslaved to fear. Violence is the response. The frightened human heart is enslaved by the constant drive to win, have enough, have more, to own, to grasp, to be justified in who we are. We are in a struggle that goes back to the days of Cain and Abel; where being threatened by the approval received by another brought the will to murder into a brother’s heart. There is an inherent belief in us that for you to have more (wealth, power, affirmation, beauty), means I will have less. We measure ourselves against each other and live by these comparisons as if they tell us who we truly are. The fear and pride in us creates little room for the other to flourish. That has created a world in which the helpless, the voiceless, the meek, the poor, the powerless, the loser, anyone with any weakness, is not safe.

Herod, a King of great power and influence, was afraid of a baby. He quaked at the thought of what this baby could mean to his might and success and beliefs about himself, so he crushed the helpless and innocent to keep his own life intact. I believe that here, he is a picture, even a type, of the nature of the sinful human heart. Sin is the opposite of love. Sin says, I will take from or use you or even destroy you, to protect or elevate me. We know that the powers that be would continue to fear Jesus for his message of love that brought the mountains low and filled the valleys as John the Baptist and Isaiah foretold. He stood against the power structures of this world in a way that brought even the most pious to frustration. This would eventually bring Jesus to crucifixion.

My husband and I have had a tradition in which the Christmas tree is stripped of its limbs, broken in two and the pieces are nailed together to form a cross for Good Friday. This action foretold that Jesus is God’s response to the cruelest, coldest parts of this world. He meets us in the places of our worst rejections, where we have also been hated unto death. [Lutheran Pastor Pam Fickenscher says that] “Matthew invokes the matriarch Rachel in the midst of this story of God-with-us, the birth of a child whose name is a verb: save. God’s salvation may seem far off and inadequate to the mothers who mourn, and to people who hurt, but the promise is deeper than this moment in time. As the scripture told us, the threat of this Herod passes for a time, only to be replaced by another Herod, yet another ruler without scruples. But when this child of Rachel, Jesus, returns to Jerusalem as an adult, God enters into the fate of every doomed child, and every bereft parent” and I would add, every frightened and hurting soul.

I once heard the only answer to a theodicy, which is just a fancy word for the attempt to reconcile the problem of so much evil and suffering in this world with belief in a good God, is a theophany, that is, a manifestation or appearance of God Himself. Here in the Christmas story is our theophany. God coming into the world as a human, born of a woman, born into poverty, into an unclean place, touched by unclean people, who will eventually become the one, the Innocent One, who will also die at the hands of Roman soldiers. He’s God-with-us in every imaginable way.

The Franciscans say that if all that ever happened in the gospel story was the incarnation (God become man), it would have been enough. The coming of God into this world as one of us was enough to change everything because it sang loudly of God’s love and acceptance for humankind. But there is more. At the cross God became the sinner, the Roman soldier, the tax collector, the leper, me, you. And now heaven and earth are forever joined, the veil between the holy and the profane is forever torn open, God and man are supping at the Table together. God overwhelmed the overwhelming powers of the earth with love. And Easter tells us, love wins.

The candle for this week is pink, representing joy. The passage that the gospel writer Matthew quotes about Rachel’s grief is from the prophet Jeremiah. It is significant that in his writing, after Rachel’s lament, Jeremiah goes onto offer words of hope of restoration by God. A promise of joy. Rachel’s heart will be healed.

Yet we still wait, though the Light has come. Our swords are not bent into plowshares yet. The government that lies upon the shoulders of the Christ is not present yet. We ache for the restorative justice of God, when all will be set right and all sorrow and crying and pain will be no more. We have waited and we now wait again. But, the Light that has come into the world has remained. The Apostle John, who is known as the Apostle of Love said, we are like Him in this world. We can seek to overwhelm the world with love.

The Quakers say, When the song of the angels is stilled,  when the star in the sky is gone,  when the kings and princes are home,  when the shepherds are back with their flocks, then the work of Christmas begins: to find the lost, to heal the broken,  to feed the hungry, to release the prisoner, to rebuild the nations, to bring peace among the people,  to make music in the heart.

—ellen haroutunian

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