I thought it might be of interest to BTG readers to engage a recent email conversation I had with a pastor. This is a second letter from him that I then inserted my responses into. I’ve modified it a bit to conceal identifying details.
Dear Wendy,
Thanks for responding to my letter. Maybe we can continue our conversation just a little longer.
You say that you want to have a posture of learning—from answers to questions. I’m good with that—but then again—only up to a point. In the end pastors and counsellors still have to provide “guidance”. Guidance assumes some kind of norms , order. Again, salvation is the restoration of creation (order). This is not works righteousness. Nor is it some legacy of the “Enlightenment and modernity‘s reductionistic understanding of truth.” This is simple Biblical teaching. Sinners (people who consciously, deliberately disobey the Bible) must be called, led, invited to repentance—and certainly they need to know what repentance looks like.
WG: I agree with the need to call people to repentance – though I have to ask how consistently pastors actually do this. Are we calling those who are addicted to consumerism – in direct contradiction with Jesus’ call to sell what we have and give to the poor – to repentance? If so, how? Or in the sexual realm, do we call those addicted to internet pornography to repentance? If so, how are we doing this?
Your word of “deliberately disobey the Bible” begs the question – “How do we read the Bible? Who’s interpretation are we deliberately disobeying?” For example, the pacifist might believe the just-war individual is deliberately disobeying the Bible. The one who believes and practises only adult baptism may believe that others are disobeying the Bible when they baptize infants. This isn’t trivial – for we both know Christians used to kill one another over these kinds of convictions.
While I understand that conservative Christians believe the Bible to be absolutely clear in it’s condemnation of homosexual behaviour – the reality is that there are many, many Christians who disagree – based on their prayerful study of Scripture. So in our insistence that the Bible is clear – do we then presume to judge that all the other Christians are deceived? Not really Christian? Just mistaken? If they are mistaken, deceived, or not really Christian – what does the call to repentance look like? Where does humility fit into the mix as we call fellow brothers and sisters with different convictions than we have to repentance?
For those who take Jesus’ call to sell their possessions and live in solidarity with the poor seriously, what would it look like for them to call all the other Christians who live comfortably in their privatized wealth to repentance?
It certainly does not look like chaos. In that sense I do not understand yet what you mean by “control to chaos.” What do you mean by that? How is that good?
WG: In our efforts to control one another’s thinking, belief, and practice we open the door to: pride, superiority, anxiety and fear ….. and we may well take things more into our own hands than entrusting them to the leading and work of the Holy Spirit. (Note: I would not equate “control” with calling people to repentance.) “Chaos” for me refers to the messiness we experience when people experience the kind of community where there can be honesty and authenticity. Where we all acknowledge our utter brokenness and ongoing failure to live in the fullness of identification with Christ. In this kind of vulnerability – it isn’t about controlling one another – but relationally entering the reality of the messiness of our lives, allowing the Spirit to work amongst us and in us, receiving gifts from one another – that are inevitably tinged by our brokenness and flesh.
But truly, how many of our churches actually live in that kind of reality – that kind of authenticity? Or are many of our congregations places of great control – where people present a calm, orderly, face at church – and we show one another how “together” we are ….. but people are silently screaming inside.
You wonder where practicing gays fit in the church. If my understanding is right, in my tradition everyone is free (invited) to attend public worship. Here they “encounter the word” and “experience” something of the Holy Spirit. I know no church (at least none in my tradition) that would bar gays (practicing or not) from at least attending public worship.
WG: This may be true in theory – but my question is would a gay couple actually FEEL welcome. If two women came in holding hands, sat closely together in church (as I’m sure the heterosexual couples in your church do) – would they feel a warm sense of hospitality – or would they feel the immediate discomfort of other church members? There may be reasons for discomfort …. Parents wonder how they will talk about this with their young children …. Other assumptions are made ….. Uncertainty rises ….”What do they want? Why are they here? Will they create an ‘issue’ of this here?” etc.
But the reality is that while we may not bar gay people from attending – we can quickly drive people away by our discomfort and anxiety. I KNOW this is the case in many churches in your tradition – because I’ve sat with gay people who have told me about their experiences.
Full membership, however, is for those who publically confess Christ and promise to live according to his Word. This practice has a long history in the church. Of course, no one is perfect but members agree that they should strive to direct their lives according to the Bible. Pastoral care for such members must be applied carefully, cautiously, lovingly and patiently. I know no pastor (at least in my tradition) who jumps at the gun to put any member (who lives in sin) immediately under the official steps of discipline. Such steps are applied only when we seem to get no where with pastoral care--and it’s apparent that the holiness of the church, the person’s salvation and God’s glory are all at stake.
I sense an aversion however on your part to ever resort to discipline. To you it smacks of control. Actually, I sense that you have an aversion to ever saying to someone, “That is completely wrong. You must not go there.”
WG: I think you’ve gone too far with your “sense” to the point of assumption here. Have you been in my office with me as I’ve looked married Christian women in the face who are entangled in emotionally dependent and sexually involved relationships with other women and told them that they are fundamentally addicted and blinded to the infidelity and idolatry of their involvement?
So here is my question then: For what sin would you ever place someone under the official steps of discipline? Is discipline ever an option for you? In your paradigm is it conceivable to put a practicing gay person under discipline? Is it ever an option? When is it an option? (I know you can’t do that; New Direction is not an ecclesiastical organisation. But in your theology –can/should the church ever do that?)
WG: You are correct that I am not an ordained pastor functioning within the structures of a church order the way you are as a pastor. So these remarks are made given the reality that I am not bound in the same way you are.
As I look at methods of church discipline I am struck by how inherently broken they are. They are not applied consistently. And they do not, I fear, actually produce the results they are supposed to. In our individualized, post-denominational context – expelling someone from an assembly means one of two things: they will either simply go to another church or they will stop going to church altogether – in which case they may continue in the faith in a privatized manner or simply walk away from faith. If I read Paul – particularly the discipline situation in Corinth – he seems to be deeply concerned for the restoration of the brother. I am not convinced that a church discipline system that expels people in our current context does anything to promote restoration. It may protect the purity of the church (although given our inconsistent application and the incredible amount of under the radar stuff going on – I highly doubt this) and I suppose one could argue that it brings glory to God ….. but I find the entire system to be far removed from the original intention of such discipline as Paul would have experienced it in his cultural context – where expulsion carried very different weight and meaning and had a very high probability of leading to restoration.
A story: a young man played guitar in the worship band of a church. It was discovered that he was gay and had been prostituting himself to other men to earn money. He was immediately removed from the band but told he could continue to come to worship in the church. The band had really been his only connection …. And with this decision he drifted away from church. Did this bring glory to God? Did it protect the purity of the church? Did it foster restoration to wholeness for this young man?
I have to submit to you that I believe that embrace rather than exclusion would have been a more Christ-centered form of church discipline in this case. What did it cost the church to remove him? Essentially nothing. What would it have cost the church to embrace him – provide mentors, employment, transition support etc. etc. ….. a great deal. I think “church discipline” in this case was simply the easy way out – and the result is a lost boy.
In our context – where privacy, individualism is the norm – church discipline may need to consider embrace rather than exclusion. This embrace can never be coercive –and the individual may walk away from such embrace – but if church discipline should be about the restoration of people – I think we need to look really hard at models like the Mennonite “circle of support”.
Would I ever apply discipline to a gay person? If they were a follower of Jesus and member of the church: Absolutely. Sexual addiction that the person is refusing to address – despite tangible connections to support and resources being made available. Sexual infidelity which they keep justifying and where there is no repentance. Reckless sexual behaviour that endangers themselves and others. Promiscuity on the part of a single person. But again, my idea of church discipline is engagement and accountability not simple exclusion. (It should be noted: the scenarios I describe above would apply exactly the same in situations where the church member was straight.)
In terms of other sin ….. I often say that it isn’t that the church should care less about sin – it is that we should care more. I am very sympathetic to Wesley’s model of communal, mutual discipleship and accountability. I think we should be much more transparent with one another – more confessional with one another – inviting others to hold us accountable – for a whole host of areas in which we struggle, sin and fail.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want this to be a big discussion about discipline. And I don’t want you to think that I’m some big disciplinarian. I’m not. (: In my almost 20 years of ministry I have very (very!) seldom resorted to official steps of discipline. I agree with you that the conversation should be about “the nurture of real people’s journeys with Jesus Christ.” My point is that we can only do this when pastors and counsellors know what they are doing, when they know where the boundaries lie, when they know what is acceptable—and what is not. Down the pastoral road the church needs to faithfully, carefully, patiently, lovingly lay out what is clear for struggling Christians. And somewhere down the road the church must make clear what the consequences are of unrepentant sin. Even parents do this for their children; shouldn’t the church do the same? Chaos is not the message we bring. We preach shalom. True shalom is when we believe in Christ and live according to his will.
WG: Agreed. The reality is, however, that Christians do come to different conclusions about his will. For example, some who are divorced feel very strongly that they should not remarry in obedience to their understanding of Scripture. Others after a divorce feel a freedom to pursue getting remarried. We live with this kind of diversity every day in most of our churches.
Some people may well be twisting Scripture so that it will justify what they want to do. And if this is the case, correction and teaching and guidance ought to be offered. But how do we really know this is the case? We only really know it as we journey together, search the Scriptures together, pray together, listen to the Spirit together. After this kind of process, there may still be difference in perspective – and there may need to be a parting of the ways because the paradigms of belief are incompatible – but it won’t be simply writing the other off as “not really caring about Scripture or God’s will” because they will have discovered genuine faith, genuine care for Scripture, genuine commitment to submitting to the Lordship of Christ. I guess my question to you Pastor – is if you have had that kind of experience with a gay Christian – or are you speaking out of theoretical certainty?
There are people who believe I sin when I step into the pulpit to preach. Of those, some think I have just disregarded Scripture and when I preach I’m just doing it because I want to – and fundamentally I don’t care about obeying and submitting to God’s will. Others acknowledge that I deeply care about Scripture, seek to live my life in submission to the Lordship of Christ, and step into the pulpit with reverence and fear – compelled to obey what I believe God has called me to do. They still disagree with my preaching – but they don’t assume I’m doing it for frivolous, selfish reasons. Some of those will choose to be present when I preach – others don’t. This is hurtful for me at some level – but I respect their convictions and in the Spirit of Christ I want to honour them and give space for them to live consistently with their convictions. I would never try to force them to change their convictions so that I would feel better.
I have met gay Christians who are partnered who are deeply convicted that this is God’s expression of grace to them in a broken world. I may not fully share their conviction – and at times may have very robust conversations with them about this matter. They may well wish that I would fully land where they are – and I might pray they would land where I am – but we see Christ in one another – and live with the messiness of both unity in Christ – and significant disagreement. I could hammer them with calls to repentance …. But as I listen to the Holy Spirit and prayerfully seek guidance in how to relate to these friends, that is not what I sense God asking of me. They know what I believe – I don’t need to keep pounding them over the head with it.
If my friends who have sold everything to live with the poor – just kept pounding me over the head with a call to repent of owning private property ….. I would experience little of the richness of their relationship with Christ in our friendship …. And likely we wouldn’t be friends very long. Rather, in the course of our friendship, I see Christ in them, I see him care for their needs, I see their intimacy with Christ, their freedom, their joy ….. and over the course of our friendship I am drawn to be less tied to my possessions, to grow in generosity, to live more simply, to respond because I have seen God’s great grace in them. That I think is the fruitful model of relational engagement – that ultimately leads to more conviction and growth in another.
Struggling Christians deserve this message. I believe struggling Christians desire this message. If faith and obedience is not what New Directions is about—then what really is the point and purpose of your ministry?
WG: Is faith and obedience reduced to one aspect of a person’s life? Or is discipleship and sanctification a life journey which encompasses our whole life? Is faith and obedience our work – or is it a gift from God to us? We meet people at every possible point in the journey – many who are post-Christian or completely non-Christian ….. calling them to faith and obedience in regard to their sexual behaviour without regard for their whole life and journey would be completely inconsistent with God’s concern for them as a human being called to be in reconciled relationship with him.
There are people who connect with New Direction who are struggling to know how to live out their faith and their sexuality with whom we have very deep and robust conversations about faith and obedience – because that is the appropriate conversation to have with them at that point in their journey.
If the suggestion would be made that the point and purpose of New Direction should be to make sure that gay people who love Jesus never have gay sex ….. I would respond by saying, "What a sad, limited, shalom-less kind of mission that would be." Our point and purpose is that every person outside the heterosexual mainstream, through friendship (ie. an experience of true community) with other Christ-followers, would have the opportunity to find themselves more deeply immersed in the life of Jesus and would be encouraged and challenged to continue to move forward in that journey towards maturity in faith. Such maturity in faith obviously encompasses obedience and submission to the Lordship of Christ – but this is so much more wholistic and all encompassing than simply the area of their sexuality.
In response to my responses, this pastor wrote saying,
“Dear Wendy,
Thanks for your lengthy response to my latest email. I appreciate you taking the time and energy to respond to my thoughts, questions and challenges. I could respond to your latest email but it's probably time to bring our conversation to a closure. Maybe I will end with these final comments. You bring up many points that I do agree with. My biggest difficulty remains though that your approach is slowly sliding into side A. I don't see what will prevent you from going there. I agree that life is messy--that pastoral care is messy (I've been at it for a long time now), but to make things less messy I think it's good and wise to stick with those Biblical norms that have been very clear for the entirety of O.T and N.T history. Homosexual practice is unbiblical. My thinking remains that we should stay well within the boundaries (and pastoral care perspectives) of side B. That would be my advice to you....for what-ever it's worth. (:
Thanks again for our conversation.
Blessings!”
(Note: for those unfamiliar with the terms: Side A would affirm covenantal same-sex partnerships. Side B would affirm celibacy or faithfulness in mixed-orientation marriage for same-gender attracted people.)
How might you have responded? Have at it in the comment section.
-WG
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Did God Really Say?
I’d been pondering a post on this topic for a while. Partly, it was percolating. Partly, I was probably procrastinating. I’d been thinking about this statement, “Did God really say?” I’m sure, if you have been in the Christian church for any length of time, you’ve heard this. It’s context comes out of the creation story in the book of Genesis when the serpent says to Eve, “Did God really say you must not eat any of the fruit in the garden?” (Genesis 3:1)
Where we typically hear this text used today is when someone is trying to warn or prevent another from questioning anything in the Bible. I’d been thinking about how this phrase has been used to manipulate, shame, instill fear, and control. It is like playing the ultimate power card: “If you protest then you obviously do not love God as much as I do, you obviously don’t care about the Scriptures like I do, you obviously just want to do what you want to do”. Somehow, I wanted to comment on what I felt was a misuse of Scripture and then last night, I followed a link in a Christianity Today e-newsletter to a blog post called, “Christians and Homosexuals”. As I read through the comment section, I came across this comment:
“You know what? I have a close family member who is a homosexual who I love very much. But all of you who make excuses and say "Did God REALLY say that?" (as satan said to Eve in the garden) have not made God number 1 in your lives. God is to be before ALL things, and until you do that, you obviously are unable to understand Scripture, or you do not want to believe it, or you do as you do, and make thousands of excuses. God is extremely clear on this issue. It doesn't matter what you think or what you hope for. God has said what the eternal fate of those who are homosexual is. I believe God over man any day.”
Certainly, there are people who want to twist Scripture to make it say whatever will justify how they want to live. I’m afraid I see that every day in my comfortable life so pervasively informed by the consumeristic and individualistic culture in which I live. I find a way to ignore Jesus’ words, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me." (Matt. 19:21) The truth is, I have private property, I keep things for myself and my family. I put away money for my retirement, and my children’s educations ….. and I placate myself with the commitment we make to charitable giving. But even while our family grows in our ability to be generous and live more simply, in my heart of hearts I am terrified of Jesus’ words to let go of the security I’ve created for myself and live in full identification with the poor.
And in the midst of it all, I can’t help but wonder why it is so convenient for so many Christians to get all bent out of shape about gay people reading Scripture in a manner that affords them the opportunity to experience love and companionship in a gay relationship while we rarely challenge ourselves and one another about the comfort we choose in our privatized wealth. I hear so often, “The Bible is clear ….. about homosexuality.” Well friends, the Bible seems even more often clear about the call to not only care for the poor – but to live in solidarity with the poor. (If you’re interested, this blog post totally kicked my butt on this issue – agree or disagree with it – I dare you to not be convicted by it)
But alongside those of us who pick and choose and selectively follow the texts that don’t shake up our world too much, there are those who are honestly trying to wrestle with God, to glimpse more of his character through the story of Scripture, to discern the way forward to both follow him and experience his best for their lives. If we fail to listen to these stories, if we fail to see their pilgrim spirit, if we simply presume a selfish agenda, I fear we fail to honour the Biblical legacy of people of faith wrestling with God.
In Genesis 18, Abraham questions and challenges God:
Abraham remained standing before the LORD. Then Abraham approached him and said: "Will you sweep away the righteous with the wicked? What if there are fifty righteous people in the city? Will you really sweep it away and not spare the place for the sake of the fifty righteous people in it? Far be it from you to do such a thing—to kill the righteous with the wicked, treating the righteous and the wicked alike. Far be it from you! Will not the Judge of all the earth do right?"
In Genesis 32, Jacob struggles with God:
So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak. When the man saw that he could not overpower him, he touched the socket of Jacob's hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man. Then the man said, "Let me go, for it is daybreak." But Jacob replied, "I will not let you go unless you bless me." The man asked him, "What is your name?" "Jacob," he answered. Then the man said, "Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome.”
Throughout the Biblical story, people of faith encounter a God who welcomes their questions and invites them to struggle with him.
Many of the same-gender attracted followers of Jesus I know have wrestled with God through prayer and through asking questions of the Biblical text. I often see people shift back and forth between a more traditional understanding that precludes same-gender sexual behaviour and a more gay-affirming perspective that views covenanted gay partnerships as an expression of God’s grace. This back and forth journey is not because the issues are trivial to them - rather precisely because of the depth of commitment to be faithful to Christ many continue to wrestle. Many live with a deep sense of uncertainty. But I have also often heard them testify that this uncertainty has drawn them into deeper, more trusting and dependent relationship with Christ. The convictions they hold have often come through much study, prayer, and a desire to submit to God’s will. And while I may not agree with some of their conclusions, I often find that I deeply respect the intentional journey that has brought them to where they are. And I respect those who continue to wrestle.
Blogger “poserorprophet” in a post entitled, “Abandoning Certitude: Walking Humbly with God” reminds us that our connection with God is mediated by Scripture, tradition, reason, and experience but that our engagement in each of these four areas is always impacted by our own fallibility. He goes on to say,
“An honest confrontation with our situation requires us to confess that we can no longer be certain… about anything. Maybe we are eisegeting (ie. when a reader reads his own interpretation into the text) the Scriptures. Maybe we are highlighting the wrong parts of the Christian traditions. Maybe our reason is fatally flawed. Maybe we have misunderstood ourselves and our experiences. Maybe that which we have taken to be God, is not God at all. We must confess that any and all of the above is possible.
So we must abandon certainty, and we must flee from anyone who promises us certitude lest we become lured into false comforts and a world of illusions.
This, I think, is what it means for a person to ‘walk humbly with God’ (cf. Mic 6.8). Walking humbly with God means confessing that, hey, maybe we’ve got it all wrong. Maybe, instead of being part of the solution, we’re part of the problem. Maybe we’re just making one giant mess of everything. So we pray: ‘Lord, have mercy’.
Finally, I have recently come to the conclusion that this movement into uncertainty is actually an expression of one’s maturation in one’s faith. This goes against what I was led to believe about faith when I was growing up. When I was younger, I thought that uncertainty was a sign of ’spiritual immaturity’ and that ’spiritual maturity’ would be expressed in an increasing sense of certainty. Indeed, I think many Christians were led to believe that this is how ’spiritual maturity’ is expressed. I no longer believe this. I now believe that it takes a great deal of maturity to confess that one is uncertain (about everything), and the reason why we have difficulty confessing this is because we remain in places of immaturity. This, at least, has been my own (neither infallible nor completely trustworthy!) experience: the more deeply rooted I have become in my faith, the more I have been able to abandon certitude in order to walk humbly with God — and with my neighbours as we, together, strive to do justice and love mercy (Mic 6.8, again).”
When people misuse the text “Did God really say?” to shut down someone’s honest wrestling with God, they betray what seems to be their own lack of faith, lack of humility, and their own fear and anxiety. We ought not be threatened by someone’s searching. We ought not to try to control the outcomes in another’s journey. We ought not to resort to using shame or fear or guilt to ensure others share in our certainties. God can be trusted to lead those who question and struggle with him through prayer and his Word making good use of their minds and their experiences. Let’s focus on encouraging one another rather than accusing and condemning one another. In such a spacious place, I believe more people will have the opportunity to discover the truth of Jeremiah 29: 13:
“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”
-WG
Where we typically hear this text used today is when someone is trying to warn or prevent another from questioning anything in the Bible. I’d been thinking about how this phrase has been used to manipulate, shame, instill fear, and control. It is like playing the ultimate power card: “If you protest then you obviously do not love God as much as I do, you obviously don’t care about the Scriptures like I do, you obviously just want to do what you want to do”. Somehow, I wanted to comment on what I felt was a misuse of Scripture and then last night, I followed a link in a Christianity Today e-newsletter to a blog post called, “Christians and Homosexuals”. As I read through the comment section, I came across this comment:
“You know what? I have a close family member who is a homosexual who I love very much. But all of you who make excuses and say "Did God REALLY say that?" (as satan said to Eve in the garden) have not made God number 1 in your lives. God is to be before ALL things, and until you do that, you obviously are unable to understand Scripture, or you do not want to believe it, or you do as you do, and make thousands of excuses. God is extremely clear on this issue. It doesn't matter what you think or what you hope for. God has said what the eternal fate of those who are homosexual is. I believe God over man any day.”
Certainly, there are people who want to twist Scripture to make it say whatever will justify how they want to live. I’m afraid I see that every day in my comfortable life so pervasively informed by the consumeristic and individualistic culture in which I live. I find a way to ignore Jesus’ words, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me." (Matt. 19:21) The truth is, I have private property, I keep things for myself and my family. I put away money for my retirement, and my children’s educations ….. and I placate myself with the commitment we make to charitable giving. But even while our family grows in our ability to be generous and live more simply, in my heart of hearts I am terrified of Jesus’ words to let go of the security I’ve created for myself and live in full identification with the poor.
And in the midst of it all, I can’t help but wonder why it is so convenient for so many Christians to get all bent out of shape about gay people reading Scripture in a manner that affords them the opportunity to experience love and companionship in a gay relationship while we rarely challenge ourselves and one another about the comfort we choose in our privatized wealth. I hear so often, “The Bible is clear ….. about homosexuality.” Well friends, the Bible seems even more often clear about the call to not only care for the poor – but to live in solidarity with the poor. (If you’re interested, this blog post totally kicked my butt on this issue – agree or disagree with it – I dare you to not be convicted by it)
But alongside those of us who pick and choose and selectively follow the texts that don’t shake up our world too much, there are those who are honestly trying to wrestle with God, to glimpse more of his character through the story of Scripture, to discern the way forward to both follow him and experience his best for their lives. If we fail to listen to these stories, if we fail to see their pilgrim spirit, if we simply presume a selfish agenda, I fear we fail to honour the Biblical legacy of people of faith wrestling with God.
In Genesis 18, Abraham questions and challenges God:
Abraham remained standing before the LORD. Then Abraham approached him and said: "Will you sweep away the righteous with the wicked? What if there are fifty righteous people in the city? Will you really sweep it away and not spare the place for the sake of the fifty righteous people in it? Far be it from you to do such a thing—to kill the righteous with the wicked, treating the righteous and the wicked alike. Far be it from you! Will not the Judge of all the earth do right?"
In Genesis 32, Jacob struggles with God:
So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak. When the man saw that he could not overpower him, he touched the socket of Jacob's hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man. Then the man said, "Let me go, for it is daybreak." But Jacob replied, "I will not let you go unless you bless me." The man asked him, "What is your name?" "Jacob," he answered. Then the man said, "Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome.”
Throughout the Biblical story, people of faith encounter a God who welcomes their questions and invites them to struggle with him.
Many of the same-gender attracted followers of Jesus I know have wrestled with God through prayer and through asking questions of the Biblical text. I often see people shift back and forth between a more traditional understanding that precludes same-gender sexual behaviour and a more gay-affirming perspective that views covenanted gay partnerships as an expression of God’s grace. This back and forth journey is not because the issues are trivial to them - rather precisely because of the depth of commitment to be faithful to Christ many continue to wrestle. Many live with a deep sense of uncertainty. But I have also often heard them testify that this uncertainty has drawn them into deeper, more trusting and dependent relationship with Christ. The convictions they hold have often come through much study, prayer, and a desire to submit to God’s will. And while I may not agree with some of their conclusions, I often find that I deeply respect the intentional journey that has brought them to where they are. And I respect those who continue to wrestle.
Blogger “poserorprophet” in a post entitled, “Abandoning Certitude: Walking Humbly with God” reminds us that our connection with God is mediated by Scripture, tradition, reason, and experience but that our engagement in each of these four areas is always impacted by our own fallibility. He goes on to say,
“An honest confrontation with our situation requires us to confess that we can no longer be certain… about anything. Maybe we are eisegeting (ie. when a reader reads his own interpretation into the text) the Scriptures. Maybe we are highlighting the wrong parts of the Christian traditions. Maybe our reason is fatally flawed. Maybe we have misunderstood ourselves and our experiences. Maybe that which we have taken to be God, is not God at all. We must confess that any and all of the above is possible.
So we must abandon certainty, and we must flee from anyone who promises us certitude lest we become lured into false comforts and a world of illusions.
This, I think, is what it means for a person to ‘walk humbly with God’ (cf. Mic 6.8). Walking humbly with God means confessing that, hey, maybe we’ve got it all wrong. Maybe, instead of being part of the solution, we’re part of the problem. Maybe we’re just making one giant mess of everything. So we pray: ‘Lord, have mercy’.
Finally, I have recently come to the conclusion that this movement into uncertainty is actually an expression of one’s maturation in one’s faith. This goes against what I was led to believe about faith when I was growing up. When I was younger, I thought that uncertainty was a sign of ’spiritual immaturity’ and that ’spiritual maturity’ would be expressed in an increasing sense of certainty. Indeed, I think many Christians were led to believe that this is how ’spiritual maturity’ is expressed. I no longer believe this. I now believe that it takes a great deal of maturity to confess that one is uncertain (about everything), and the reason why we have difficulty confessing this is because we remain in places of immaturity. This, at least, has been my own (neither infallible nor completely trustworthy!) experience: the more deeply rooted I have become in my faith, the more I have been able to abandon certitude in order to walk humbly with God — and with my neighbours as we, together, strive to do justice and love mercy (Mic 6.8, again).”
When people misuse the text “Did God really say?” to shut down someone’s honest wrestling with God, they betray what seems to be their own lack of faith, lack of humility, and their own fear and anxiety. We ought not be threatened by someone’s searching. We ought not to try to control the outcomes in another’s journey. We ought not to resort to using shame or fear or guilt to ensure others share in our certainties. God can be trusted to lead those who question and struggle with him through prayer and his Word making good use of their minds and their experiences. Let’s focus on encouraging one another rather than accusing and condemning one another. In such a spacious place, I believe more people will have the opportunity to discover the truth of Jeremiah 29: 13:
“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”
-WG
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Repealing D.A.D.T
There is a regular flow of news stories and blog articles about efforts to repeal DADT as it relates to the U.S. military. For my fellow Canadians who might not follow such reports, DADT stands for “don’t ask, don’t tell”. It refers to a practice in the American armed forces that compels soldiers to keep their same-sex sexual attractions, gay identity, and/or same-sex sexual relationships under wraps if they hope to continue in their military careers. As a pacifist-leaning Canadian who is admittedly ill-informed about U.S military issues, the whole concept of DADT seems counter-intuitive to me. It would seem to me that if you are asking soldiers to entrust their lives to one another, there would be tremendous benefit in fostering an environment of authenticity and integrity. By asking a group of individuals to hide such a significant part of their identity perpetuates a climate of secrecy that, in my mind, erodes corporate integrity. But …. as I said, I really have no experience that gives me any platform on which to speak to U.S military issues.
But I do have extensive experience in the church. And in many ways I observe a similar silent expectation of DADT within the church, that I believe erodes our corporate integrity as the family of God.
In the first place, I see same-gender attracted people bear the incredible burden of exhausting vigilance to ensure that no “clue” slips that might reveal the reality of their sexuality. I see how this has shipwrecked lives due to the copious personal, emotional and spiritual energy that must be spent on hiding. I’ve seen people fracture under the pressure and walk away from not only the church but from God. I’ve seen mixed orientation marriages shatter after years of secrecy finally break and the truth emerges with such pent-up intensity that navigating the challenges of remaining in the marriage seems inconceivable. I’ve sat with people as they have wept over lost years – years of not being able to fully be themselves, to be known for who they truly were. I’ve sat with people who identify as ex-gay but stagger in the knowledge that they continue to wrestle with same-gender attraction while everyone assumes they are healed. I’ve ached to hear the incredible isolation that DADT causes real people with real lives.
But this “don’t ask don’t tell” mentality while most significantly impacting gay people in the church, also affects more than just those who are outside the heterosexual mainstream. I’ve had more conversations than I can count with Christians who find themselves less clear, more uncertain, living with the reality of ambiguity on this issue of homosexuality. I hear, as they quietly confide in me, a kaleidoscope of emotions. Fear of believing the wrong thing. Anxiety as they confront and critique long-held assumptions. Concern to not hurt or betray the church they love. Exhaustion at the thought of trying to explain to their fellow church members, who are so very certain and so very clear, how and why they are at the place they are. Frustration at the lack of safe space for them to articulate their thoughts and questions around these realities. Resignation in their assessment that it is simply too costly to rock the boat given the reality that it will likely bring limited change to mindsets anyway.
All of these emotions describe an environment that is hindered in being robustly authentic or inviting courageous exploration of the Biblical text, the Holy Spirit’s leading, and shared discernment. They describe an environment in which control wins out over honest wrestling.
DADT encourages the formation of secret clubs within a given fellowship. Lines get drawn between those who are “open-minded” and those who are not. Knowing looks when certain statements are made perpetuate invisible divides. Assumptions and judgments flourish in this kind of environment. Perceived agendas aren’t actually talked about or confronted. People simply keep their distance from one another. Relationships become more superficial or overtly strained. Experience of community is compromised.
Back in the day, we used to be able to count on a pretty monolithic perspective on particular issues within a given congregation. Increasingly, in our intercultural, intergenerational, post-denominational, post-Christian context we encounter complex layers of diversity within our local fellowships. While this ushers in a messy, uncomfortable and sometimes painful exercise in learning how to love, serve, and honour one another, I believe this presents an exciting opportunity for growth and maturity. I believe such diversity is both God’s heart and his way of shaping, refining and transforming us into the character of Christ. Invitational. Hospitable. Not threatened. Not easily offended. Willing to be misunderstood. Breaking barriers. Standing for justice. Reaching the marginalized. Refusing to play favorites. Extending forgiveness. Pursuing reconciliation. Embodying freedom.
We ought not to run from such diversity, ought not to try to control it or coerce it into uniformity. We ought to live in the midst of it, live in the reality of the tensions it creates, wrestle with the paradoxes that arise. We ought to face the challenge of mastering our own selfish, fearful, prideful, easily threatened hearts.
But DADT gives us the easy way out. We don’t have to face the reality of our diversity. We don’t have to wrestle through the hard questions. We don’t have to examine and re-examine not only what we believe but why we believe it and how it is that we hold what we believe when we encounter those who believe in a different way. DADT is a false freedom from conflict. Behind the mask of the peace it proffers lies a leprosy that eats away at authentic community. It keeps us superficial, secretly divided, with a false sense of unity. And it has the very real potential to destroy individual lives.
It’s time to repeal “don’t ask, don’t tell” ….. in the church.
-WG
But I do have extensive experience in the church. And in many ways I observe a similar silent expectation of DADT within the church, that I believe erodes our corporate integrity as the family of God.
In the first place, I see same-gender attracted people bear the incredible burden of exhausting vigilance to ensure that no “clue” slips that might reveal the reality of their sexuality. I see how this has shipwrecked lives due to the copious personal, emotional and spiritual energy that must be spent on hiding. I’ve seen people fracture under the pressure and walk away from not only the church but from God. I’ve seen mixed orientation marriages shatter after years of secrecy finally break and the truth emerges with such pent-up intensity that navigating the challenges of remaining in the marriage seems inconceivable. I’ve sat with people as they have wept over lost years – years of not being able to fully be themselves, to be known for who they truly were. I’ve sat with people who identify as ex-gay but stagger in the knowledge that they continue to wrestle with same-gender attraction while everyone assumes they are healed. I’ve ached to hear the incredible isolation that DADT causes real people with real lives.
But this “don’t ask don’t tell” mentality while most significantly impacting gay people in the church, also affects more than just those who are outside the heterosexual mainstream. I’ve had more conversations than I can count with Christians who find themselves less clear, more uncertain, living with the reality of ambiguity on this issue of homosexuality. I hear, as they quietly confide in me, a kaleidoscope of emotions. Fear of believing the wrong thing. Anxiety as they confront and critique long-held assumptions. Concern to not hurt or betray the church they love. Exhaustion at the thought of trying to explain to their fellow church members, who are so very certain and so very clear, how and why they are at the place they are. Frustration at the lack of safe space for them to articulate their thoughts and questions around these realities. Resignation in their assessment that it is simply too costly to rock the boat given the reality that it will likely bring limited change to mindsets anyway.
All of these emotions describe an environment that is hindered in being robustly authentic or inviting courageous exploration of the Biblical text, the Holy Spirit’s leading, and shared discernment. They describe an environment in which control wins out over honest wrestling.
DADT encourages the formation of secret clubs within a given fellowship. Lines get drawn between those who are “open-minded” and those who are not. Knowing looks when certain statements are made perpetuate invisible divides. Assumptions and judgments flourish in this kind of environment. Perceived agendas aren’t actually talked about or confronted. People simply keep their distance from one another. Relationships become more superficial or overtly strained. Experience of community is compromised.
Back in the day, we used to be able to count on a pretty monolithic perspective on particular issues within a given congregation. Increasingly, in our intercultural, intergenerational, post-denominational, post-Christian context we encounter complex layers of diversity within our local fellowships. While this ushers in a messy, uncomfortable and sometimes painful exercise in learning how to love, serve, and honour one another, I believe this presents an exciting opportunity for growth and maturity. I believe such diversity is both God’s heart and his way of shaping, refining and transforming us into the character of Christ. Invitational. Hospitable. Not threatened. Not easily offended. Willing to be misunderstood. Breaking barriers. Standing for justice. Reaching the marginalized. Refusing to play favorites. Extending forgiveness. Pursuing reconciliation. Embodying freedom.
We ought not to run from such diversity, ought not to try to control it or coerce it into uniformity. We ought to live in the midst of it, live in the reality of the tensions it creates, wrestle with the paradoxes that arise. We ought to face the challenge of mastering our own selfish, fearful, prideful, easily threatened hearts.
But DADT gives us the easy way out. We don’t have to face the reality of our diversity. We don’t have to wrestle through the hard questions. We don’t have to examine and re-examine not only what we believe but why we believe it and how it is that we hold what we believe when we encounter those who believe in a different way. DADT is a false freedom from conflict. Behind the mask of the peace it proffers lies a leprosy that eats away at authentic community. It keeps us superficial, secretly divided, with a false sense of unity. And it has the very real potential to destroy individual lives.
It’s time to repeal “don’t ask, don’t tell” ….. in the church.
-WG
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Risking Disorder to Glimpse the Kingdom
I was invited to post a blog over at the Evolving Church: Kingdom Economy site. It went up quicker than I thought - so I'm a bit behind - but thought I'd share it here too. I'd encourage you to check out the other posts over at Evolving Church and if you're in the Ontario area consider registering for this conference. I taught a workshop at it last year - and it is a fantastic learning experience.
It is interesting to me that the economy of the Kingdom is described as being about ordering things. It would seem to me that the necessary disordering of things is the only shot we have of breaking through our haze and glimpsing the way of the Kingdom.
One of the postures that Tim Keel speaks of in his book, “Intuitive Leadership” is the movement from control to chaos. Now, I thought that I liked change and that I had a pretty good threshold for chaos and the creativity that could emerge from such times of disruption. What I didn’t fully realize was that what I really liked was controlled chaos – particularly when I was in the driver’s seat.
In the last number of years, in my work with those marginalized from the heterosexual mainstream, I have experienced a disruption of my assumptions and certainties that was threatening and uncomfortable. I consistently felt God pulling me out of the driver’s seat and thrusting me into places of tension that I could not find a quick or easy resolution to. And while the whisper of accusation was readily present to suggest that I’d somehow slipped down the relativistic slope, or that the way I was questioning and thinking would inevitably wound and fracture the very Jesus-community that I loved, or that God himself was shaking his head sadly at the conundrum I’d created for myself, at a deep and audacious place within my spirit came the nudge to press into these questions because they somehow “smelled a lot like Jesus”.
The questions I was asking about how to relate and engage with my gay, lesbian, bi-sexual, transgendered, queer or intersexed neighbours seem to me to be at the heart of our search for a Kingdom economy. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think they eclipse the questions of the land, or food, or money or any of the other brilliant perspectives shared by other contributors. What I mean to simply suggest is that the heart of our search for a Kingdom economy is relational. What we discover at the heart of relationship is what can help us sniff out the subversive, up-side down economy of Jesus. And where relationship is lacking, where our questions get lost in the world of the theoretical, doctrinal, systematized and reductionistic, I’m afraid we begin to stink like the empire.
The picture we have in Isaiah 11 is a profound shattering of the enmity that marks so much of our existence:
In that day the wolf and the lamb will live together;
the leopard will lie down with the baby goat.
The calf and the yearling will be safe with the lion,
and a little child will lead them all.
Our legacy of engaging those who do not neatly fit into our safe categories for gender and sexual identity has often been one of exclusion, oppression and enmity. In the name of Christ and for the sake of righteousness we have fought over the semantics and constructs of orientation and identity. And we have left human lives trampled and discarded in our wake. Regardless of our deepest convictions about the appropriateness of committed same-sex relationships or gender transitions, we are called to live out a Kingdom economy in our relationships with those who experience life at the margins of our privileged and dominant heterosexual and gender normative status. This will require embodying the kind of humble maturity that can acknowledge the diverse ways that followers of Jesus engage these complex and individually unique realities. It will require a willingness to face our own anxieties and insecurities around sexuality, gender, difference and ‘the other’. It will require a pressing in to a truly Kingdom shaped hospitality that makes room and celebrates the spiritually formative opportunity to welcome the stranger. It will require a willingness to embrace paradox and tension and at times say, “I know not.”
I recently had a number of delightful personal encounters all in the same day. In the morning I had breakfast with a same-gender attracted woman who has been committed to living a single, celibate life for many years. This has been a tremendous struggle for her and she shared about a woman she is currently very much in love with and the great challenge of daily submitting these desires to Christ. Her faith is robust, honest, authentic. Christ is her first love, her truest and deepest love. Her courage and perseverance inspired me. I then had a morning meeting with a number of pastors from a large church along with several gay Christians. The pastors were building relationships with gay people in their local contexts and beginning to live in the tensions of denominational boundaries and guidelines, personal convictions, and deep investment in relationship. The gay Christians in this group came to a variety of personal conclusions about God’s will for how they would live out their experience of sexual identity. They spoke up poignantly about experiencing double standards and inconsistencies in how they were viewed and treated alongside those in the heterosexual mainstream who believed or practiced in divergent ways. The pain AND the love in the room was palatable – and no one had a quick or easy answer to the dilemmas facing this group of Christ-followers all deeply wanting to love Jesus and build community together. Then over lunch I met with a previously partnered, now single, gay-affirming lesbian woman who shared God’s call on her life to “love them to Him”. She glowed with excitement as she recounted the people God has brought across her path who felt alienated from Him and from the church and the ways she felt God using her to be an encouragement and source of hope for them. And I was blessed by her passion to share Christ. In the evening I met with an evangelical pastor and two gay Christians who were trying to create a safe space to build bridges and truly listen to one another. They were committed to regularly spending time together, simply getting to know one another and grow in their friendship together. In the midst of this kaleidoscope of people, perspectives, and passions there was a common thread of welcoming some disruption, some disorder, some tension and discomfort as a way to press more deeply into the way of the Kingdom.
In my journey I have the painful privilege of building friendship and having conversation with a good number of post-Christian gay people. These are often men and women who, at one time in their lives, served as leaders in the church. One recently said to me, “I appreciate that you can see that health and happiness for gay Christians can come from a variety of paths. I believe all of these paths can produce health and happiness for some people. However I would like to add, that for many gay people, like myself, health finally comes only after they have developed the courage to walk away from God.”
The Kingdom economy is about reconciliation. It is about breaking down enmity. It is about experiencing and extending shalom. It is about prioritizing people’s lives over being right.
I would suggest that experiencing a Kingdom economy in our relationships with our glbtqi neighbours will require some disorder and disruption. But as we take the risk to enter those spaces, where there can seem to be more tension than resolution, we will be in the kind of posture in which we can really enter one another’s lives, have new eyes to see where Christ is already at work, and begin to live out the up-side down reality of the first being last and the last being first and the lion laying with the lamb.
-WG
It is interesting to me that the economy of the Kingdom is described as being about ordering things. It would seem to me that the necessary disordering of things is the only shot we have of breaking through our haze and glimpsing the way of the Kingdom.
One of the postures that Tim Keel speaks of in his book, “Intuitive Leadership” is the movement from control to chaos. Now, I thought that I liked change and that I had a pretty good threshold for chaos and the creativity that could emerge from such times of disruption. What I didn’t fully realize was that what I really liked was controlled chaos – particularly when I was in the driver’s seat.
In the last number of years, in my work with those marginalized from the heterosexual mainstream, I have experienced a disruption of my assumptions and certainties that was threatening and uncomfortable. I consistently felt God pulling me out of the driver’s seat and thrusting me into places of tension that I could not find a quick or easy resolution to. And while the whisper of accusation was readily present to suggest that I’d somehow slipped down the relativistic slope, or that the way I was questioning and thinking would inevitably wound and fracture the very Jesus-community that I loved, or that God himself was shaking his head sadly at the conundrum I’d created for myself, at a deep and audacious place within my spirit came the nudge to press into these questions because they somehow “smelled a lot like Jesus”.
The questions I was asking about how to relate and engage with my gay, lesbian, bi-sexual, transgendered, queer or intersexed neighbours seem to me to be at the heart of our search for a Kingdom economy. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think they eclipse the questions of the land, or food, or money or any of the other brilliant perspectives shared by other contributors. What I mean to simply suggest is that the heart of our search for a Kingdom economy is relational. What we discover at the heart of relationship is what can help us sniff out the subversive, up-side down economy of Jesus. And where relationship is lacking, where our questions get lost in the world of the theoretical, doctrinal, systematized and reductionistic, I’m afraid we begin to stink like the empire.
The picture we have in Isaiah 11 is a profound shattering of the enmity that marks so much of our existence:
In that day the wolf and the lamb will live together;
the leopard will lie down with the baby goat.
The calf and the yearling will be safe with the lion,
and a little child will lead them all.
Our legacy of engaging those who do not neatly fit into our safe categories for gender and sexual identity has often been one of exclusion, oppression and enmity. In the name of Christ and for the sake of righteousness we have fought over the semantics and constructs of orientation and identity. And we have left human lives trampled and discarded in our wake. Regardless of our deepest convictions about the appropriateness of committed same-sex relationships or gender transitions, we are called to live out a Kingdom economy in our relationships with those who experience life at the margins of our privileged and dominant heterosexual and gender normative status. This will require embodying the kind of humble maturity that can acknowledge the diverse ways that followers of Jesus engage these complex and individually unique realities. It will require a willingness to face our own anxieties and insecurities around sexuality, gender, difference and ‘the other’. It will require a pressing in to a truly Kingdom shaped hospitality that makes room and celebrates the spiritually formative opportunity to welcome the stranger. It will require a willingness to embrace paradox and tension and at times say, “I know not.”
I recently had a number of delightful personal encounters all in the same day. In the morning I had breakfast with a same-gender attracted woman who has been committed to living a single, celibate life for many years. This has been a tremendous struggle for her and she shared about a woman she is currently very much in love with and the great challenge of daily submitting these desires to Christ. Her faith is robust, honest, authentic. Christ is her first love, her truest and deepest love. Her courage and perseverance inspired me. I then had a morning meeting with a number of pastors from a large church along with several gay Christians. The pastors were building relationships with gay people in their local contexts and beginning to live in the tensions of denominational boundaries and guidelines, personal convictions, and deep investment in relationship. The gay Christians in this group came to a variety of personal conclusions about God’s will for how they would live out their experience of sexual identity. They spoke up poignantly about experiencing double standards and inconsistencies in how they were viewed and treated alongside those in the heterosexual mainstream who believed or practiced in divergent ways. The pain AND the love in the room was palatable – and no one had a quick or easy answer to the dilemmas facing this group of Christ-followers all deeply wanting to love Jesus and build community together. Then over lunch I met with a previously partnered, now single, gay-affirming lesbian woman who shared God’s call on her life to “love them to Him”. She glowed with excitement as she recounted the people God has brought across her path who felt alienated from Him and from the church and the ways she felt God using her to be an encouragement and source of hope for them. And I was blessed by her passion to share Christ. In the evening I met with an evangelical pastor and two gay Christians who were trying to create a safe space to build bridges and truly listen to one another. They were committed to regularly spending time together, simply getting to know one another and grow in their friendship together. In the midst of this kaleidoscope of people, perspectives, and passions there was a common thread of welcoming some disruption, some disorder, some tension and discomfort as a way to press more deeply into the way of the Kingdom.
In my journey I have the painful privilege of building friendship and having conversation with a good number of post-Christian gay people. These are often men and women who, at one time in their lives, served as leaders in the church. One recently said to me, “I appreciate that you can see that health and happiness for gay Christians can come from a variety of paths. I believe all of these paths can produce health and happiness for some people. However I would like to add, that for many gay people, like myself, health finally comes only after they have developed the courage to walk away from God.”
The Kingdom economy is about reconciliation. It is about breaking down enmity. It is about experiencing and extending shalom. It is about prioritizing people’s lives over being right.
I would suggest that experiencing a Kingdom economy in our relationships with our glbtqi neighbours will require some disorder and disruption. But as we take the risk to enter those spaces, where there can seem to be more tension than resolution, we will be in the kind of posture in which we can really enter one another’s lives, have new eyes to see where Christ is already at work, and begin to live out the up-side down reality of the first being last and the last being first and the lion laying with the lamb.
-WG
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