Theology for Women

Yes, it has come to this–it’s not even December and I’m already writing a post about Christmas. I know it’s a little early, but since the rest of the world seems to have already jumped head first into the Christmas season, it’s important that we balance the rat race of shopping and parties with some meditation on what this season is really about. With that in mind, here’s something that I’ve been thinking about as the Christmas season begins to unfold…

To profess that God became Man is not at all a neutral statement. That said, I am often struck by how casually we tell the Christmas story. Each year we go through the routine of remembering our Savior’s humble beginnings, and although the festivities and the lights add a certain dynamic of wonder to the celebration, we have nevertheless tamed this wild tale. The story might stir in us feelings of sentimentality or excitement, but we are rarely dumbfounded by it.

Yet think, for a moment, about what it is we say we believe: God, the Creator of the Universe, became a man by impregnating a virgin so that He could save all humanity from the evil of the world through this God-Man baby. I mean no irreverence, but doesn’t that sound a little crazy? Realistically, what would you do if a friend of yours approached you with the following news: “You’ll never believe this, but God came to me in the night and said that my pregnant fiancée is carrying a divine baby who will save the world!” I, personally, would run away as fast as possible, and probably stop being their friend.

Indeed, what we as Christians say we believe is more than a little off the wall. That, of course, is why we call it faith. But Christmas is a great opportunity to look at the story with fresh eyes. Had we not been born in a culture that was used to hearing the Christmas story, and had Christ’s birth not been domesticated into an annual routine, how might we have responded upon hearing this narrative for the first time?

Most likely, we would have responded in one of two ways: We would have either rejected it as pure insanity, or believed it whole-heartedly and exclaimed, “Can this good news really be true? I want to follow such a God!” Those are the only two logical choices. To respond, “I guess I can buy that,” but then continue your life unchanged is utterly nonsensical. If we do, in fact, believe that the Creator of the Universe became a human and died on the cross for us, then there is no neutral response. To believe that God loves us so radically is to be forever changed. The only people who remain unchanged by such news are those who don’t believe it, or simply don’t understand it.

So this Christmas, think about what it is you believe. If we truly believe that God became human to deliver us from a fallen world, then that is a God for whom we should cast off everything to follow. That is a God worthy of radical discipleship, adoration, and glory. To respond any other way is to misunderstand what it is we profess. We will never fully understand the heights and the depths of what God has done for us. But the more we ponder the Christmas story, the more we will be transformed by it. And when this happens, we will stop celebrating the birth of God’s son simply because it is tradition or because the marketing culture compels us, but because we are so filled with joy that we cannot help ourselves

This week I joined the thousands of Americans who hit the road for the Thanksgiving holiday, and let me tell you, it was a treat. For some strange reason, I-85 dwindles down to two lanes instead of (logically) expanding as you drive into Charlotte, so I spent a large portion of my journey creeping along at about 5 miles per hour. I’m pretty sure I could have gotten there faster if I had run.

In addition to the frustration of heavy holiday traffic, I also passed about a dozen cop cars throughout my two hour drive. And like clockwork, I hit the breaks every single time I saw one, whether I was speeding or not. I don’t know what it is about seeing a police car that automatically makes me feel guilty. But more notably, seeing them always makes me feel slightly annoyed, if not a little mad. Why? Because they’re an inconvenience. I’m a good driver, and I’m not reckless or irresponsible, so it frustrates me that I’ve got these police people constantly looking over my shoulder making sure I’m not doing anything wrong. And of course you never see them pull over the real offenders, the crazy people who weave in and out of the lanes at dangerously high speeds. Where are the cops then?

Yes, my perspective on cops is wary at best.

In general, I think that my attitude towards policemen epitomizes our generation’s attitude toward authority. Put simply, young people have a major problem with authority. We don’t want people telling us what to do, and we refuse to listen because we think we know better. If you don’t believe me, here are a couple litmus tests to see if you might qualify…

-If you’ve ever written off your parents as simply being naive or over-protective in the advice that they have given you
-If you’ve ever gotten bitter with professors for giving you pop quizzes to make sure you are staying on top of your work
-If you have ever sat through a sermon and criticized everything the pastor was saying, or have thought you could lead the church more effectively than your pastor
-If the idea of marital submission sounds like a relic of patriarchal society that should be ignored in Scripture
-If you think all rules are merely a form of legalism

I could go on, but this is a good start. I, personally, have been guilty of almost all those thoughts at one time or another.

The problem is that we have come to embrace a distorted view of authority. Arrogantly, our generation sees authority as a limitation of our freedom, so we buck against it time and time again.

Scripture, however, treats it differently. The Bible consistently teaches us to submit to various authorities, whether they be governmental or church leaders. And while there are some parameters to this submission, we cannot let the Hitlers of the world sour our understanding of authority. We must reclaim God’s true intention for it.

In reality, authority is not meant to stifle freedom, but to enhance it. Authority is a means to greater freedom, not an obstacle to it. The easiest way to conceive of this is to picture a parent’s relationship with a child. A parent might forbid her child from playing in the road or eating whatever the child wants, but in doing so the parent is not limiting the child’s freedom. On the contrary, the parent keeps the child from playing in the road so that the child can play in safety. And the parent does not allow the child to eat tons of sugar so that the child does not get sick. In this way, the parent’s rules actually maximize the child’s quality of life and the freedom with which the child can live. Rather then minimize freedom, the rules increase it.

Similarly, policemen are not on the highway to make our traveling more difficult, but to make it safer. Traffic regulations protect us from reckless individuals who drive selfishly and hazardously. We can drive in freedom because our roads are relatively safe since most drivers abides by a standard of responsibility.

What’s more, even marital submission is a means to freedom. When a wife submits to a husband who is laying himself down for her and is always putting her best interest first, then that is freedom, not bondage. And with that in mind, you can easily see why marriage is based off of the relationship between Christ and the Church. When the Church submits to a God who loves her so much that He would send His Son to die for her, then that is freedom. I have no hesitation about submitting to such a God. And in this way, submission to God and submission in marriage are a means to freedom.

That is why Scripture treats authority as a positive, rather than a negative. Authority, when exercised appropriately, is a reflection of God’s authority over us. That being said, if we have a problem with submitting to authority, then we probably have a problem submitting to God. In the end, that is what this issue boils down to. No, we must not be doormats–authority can be abused–but that does not make all authority bad. Authority is just one echo of the many beautiful attributes of God, which means that rules and regulations do not always serve to hinder us, but to teach us about the depths and complexities of God’s love. The question is whether or not this is an aspect of God that you are willing to accept. Unfortunately, many of us are not, and I fear the Church will suffer for it. Let that not be the case.

Several years ago I attended a church that preached through Song of Solomon. I never thought I could learn so much from a book that compares women’s anatomy to deer grazing in a field! It was awesome.

The sermon series used Song of Solomon to walk through the stages of dating, ending in marriage. Unfortunately I don’t remember a whole lot from the series, but there is one point that I have always come back to time and again because of its truth.

As the pastor discussed the application of the book to dating, he noted the abundant use of springtime imagery in describing the lovers’ relationship. Why, he asked, do you think the author used this imagery? Because springtime embodies the same thing that a godly relationship should embody: life.

To explain what he meant by this, he pointed out that romantic relationships generally have two results–life or death. On the one hand, you have the kind of relationship that is all-consuming. The couple is so infatuated with one another that everything else in their lives essentially dies. They do not follow up on commitments, their ministries take a back seat, and oftentimes their relationship with God suffers as well. What’s more, each individual’s identity disappears into the identity of the couple. Suddenly, they can’t do anything apart, they can’t do anything for themselves, and they can’t even think for themselves. This kind of relationship therefore leads to an all-pervasive death–death of ministry, friendships, relationship with God, and even personal identity.

On the other hand, there is a kind of relationship that leads to life. In this relationship, your significant other spurs you on in your service to God. They encourage you to love your friends and family better, to serve the world more diligently, and to pursue God more passionately. They make you a better disciple than you were before, and as a result, everything in your life flourishes.

This second kind of relationship is the way God designed relationships to be. You can even see this model in the Garden before the Fall. God gave Eve to Adam, not for the sake of mere companionship, but because Adam could better serve God WITH Eve than without her. Their relationship was one of purpose. They had a larger mission than simply making one another happy. It was only when they began to think and act selfishly that death entered the scene.

I must admit, this is a hard teaching for me. In the past, I’ve been tempted to rearrange everything in my schedule to make time for a guy, even at the expense of my prior commitments. And even if I did fulfill those commitments, my heart wasn’t in it. I was only biding my time until I could skip out and go see my boyfriend. As a result, I spent less time with my friends, and my ministry was accomplished with only minimal effort.

This reaction to a new relationship is tempting because everything is new and exciting and every moment spent with the person is an adventure. Why would you not want to spend all your time with them? However, it’s important to take a look at your life. If your relationship is causing the rest of your priorities to suffer, then you need to ask some tough questions. Either adjust the terms of the relationship, or get out altogether, because such a relationship does not honor God. God did not create relationships as an end in themselves, but as a means to an end–His glory. Ultimately, this is the greatest measure of whether or not you have a healthy relationship, so we must always be asking that question.

This past week, America lost one of the most prolific authors of the past century: Norman Mailer. Mailer was a novelist, playwright, screenwriter and film director. He wrote over thirty books during the course of his lifetime, two of which won Pulitzer Prizes. I could go on and on about this man’s accomplishments and the impact he’s had on American literature, but suffice it to say that our nation has lost an icon.

Several days after his passing, I listened to a news story about this literary giant, and the commentator summarized his life as follows, “Norman Mailer: He fought, he drank, and he was married six times, but what truly mattered was his writing. It is his writing that will last.”

Hmmm…Really?

The thing is, Mailer had quite a messy personal life. Between six marriages he had nine children, and as if that wouldn’t keep you busy enough, he added drinking and drug abuse to the mix. I by no means want to dishonor Mr. Mailer upon the occasion of his passing, but I have to wonder if the news reporter was right in reducing his life’s significance to his literary achievements? Is that really all that matters? I’m not so sure.

Though I cannot speak on behalf of Mailer’s children, who may very well adore their father and felt supported by him at every stage in life, it is common that children of visible, public figures wind up getting neglected. Yes, your father or mother has done great things for the world, but if they were a lousy parent to you, then those achievements lose their luster. It’s hard to admire someone who was supposed to care for you, but had more important things to do.

Even so, the news reporter’s words reflect the way in which we generally measure people–by what they do. Who cares about their personal life, as long as their public life is beneficial to me. Who cares if a politician has engaged in some questionable business practices if his policy aligns with mine. Who cares if that social activist is an adulterer, as long as they’re serving the greater mankind. There are even churches who will look the other way when their pastors sleep with women in the congregation or use the church’s money for personal luxuries. As long as the sermons are good, then that’s all that really matters.

The problem with this mentality is that it overlooks the individuals who are trampled by such behavior–the children who never feel loved, the women who are betrayed or taken advantage of, or the business associates who are swindled or robbed. We justify these individuals’ mistreatment for the sake of the greater good.

I have a feeling, however, that we would be less prone to ignore our leaders’ personal lives if we were the ones getting hurt. When we step inside these victims’ shoes, our perspectives are bound to change. From their viewpoint, we see these public figures for who they are behind closed doors. That is, we see who they really are.

It is behind closed doors that your true character shines through, and no one knows this truth better than God. I frequently measure personal success by my Christian activities, but God knows better. I might be the most accomplished Christian in the world, starting a church, writing tons of books, and changing countless lives, yet neglecting the one thing that really matters. And like a child who cares little for her father’s achievements given that they were achieved at the cost of her relationship with him, God’s sentiments are the same. “Who cares that she writes great devotions…she obviously cares little for Me.”

At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how well you do your job if you’re a lousy father or mother. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter that you’re a talented preacher if you betray your congregation’s trust. And at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter if you are the greatest Bible study leader in the world if you aren’t spending daily time with God. What we call little, God calls big, so we must stop using the world’s standard of a life well lived, and start using God’s.

Lately I’ve noticed an interesting pattern in the news. Again and again, at the tail end of any news report in which a person suffers any kind of loss, we are informed that the victim is suing for damages. I almost expect to hear these words because I hear them so often. And that is how rampant the practice of lawsuits has become. If someone wrongs a person in any sort of way, whether it be legal, medical, spiritual, or emotional negligence, then a lawsuit is sure to come. Granted, there are times when lawsuits are reasonable, but sometimes they are downright absurd. Check out some of these insane lawsuits that I found…

A woman in Israel sued a TV station and its weatherman for $1,000 after he predicted a sunny day and it rained. The woman claims the forecast caused her to leave home lightly dressed. As a result, she caught the flu, missed 4 days of work, spent $38 on medication and suffered stress. She won!(Source: CALA)

A surfer recently sued another surfer for “taking his wave.” The case was ultimately dismissed because they were unable to put a price on “pain and suffering” endured by watching someone ride the wave that was “intended for you.” (Source: CALA)

A college student in Idaho decided to “moon” someone from his 4th story dorm room window. He lost his balance, fell out of his window, and injured himself in the fall. Now the student expects the University to take the fall; he is suing them for “not warning him of the dangers of living on the 4th floor”.(Source: CALA)

Now these examples are definitely extreme, but let them not undermine the reality that we live in a lawsuit culture. Lawsuits are are being filed for every possible reason, and there are a number of things that disturb me about this trend. What follows are the theological pitfalls of this culture, because we as Christians must not fall prey to the secular worldview that this pattern reflects:

1. It stems from the belief that suffering, or even discomfort, is unnatural and always bad. We live in a fallen world, which means that suffering is an unavoidable reality for us. Until Christ returns, there will never come a time at which we are not painfully aware of the ways in which sin mars the world. However, this is not always a bad thing. We serve a Redeemer God who takes that suffering and uses it to strengthen us. What man intends for evil, God uses for good. What’s more, being a Christian means we are called to a road of suffering. It’s a part of the deal, so rather than find someone to blame and punish for it, we should look to the ways in which God desires to redeem it, and how we can be a part of that redemption. Lawsuits are not the solution to sin–God’s grace and forgiveness are, and we should be reflecting that truth in our own lives.

2. It puts a cheap price tag on human suffering. Before I explain what I mean by this, let me first say that there are certainly times when a person or organization’s negligence results in such financial hardship that a person is unable to support themselves or their family, thereby making lawsuits permissible, if not necessary. However, in addition to acting as a form of punishment or vengeance, lawsuits often imply that we can financially quantify what we have lost. If a doctor leaves you with an unexpected scar, you get money. If someone slanders your reputation, you get money. If you lose a loved one, you get money. The implication here is that money makes everything better. Money serves as a band aid for the wound. Unfortunately, this is an illusion. Money does not dissolve bitterness. Money does not bring that loved one back, or restore your reputation. It only enables you to buy more things in an attempt to fill the void in your heart. We turn to lawsuits to provide us with the healing that only forgiveness can bring. No matter how much money a person gets, it is a shockingly cheap payment. The only gift large enough to heal our brokenness is God’s Son.

3. It make everyone a victim. As I mentioned earlier, we live in a fallen world, which not only means that bad things happen, but that we, personally, are to blame for many of those bad things. Yes, some people are blatantly irresponsible or greedy and should be held accountable, but a lot of lawsuits are filed against people who simply made mistakes. None of us are perfect, but we expect everyone else to be. If they fall short of our standards of perfection, then we punish them. I’m fairly certain none of us would want to be held fully accountable for every mistake we’ve made, so why do we have to be so harsh on others? The reality is that every person is a sinner, which means that every person is bound to make a mistake sooner or later. The question is how we will respond. Will we judge them, or show them the grace that has been shown to us?

As I said, there is a time and a place for lawsuits. Even Paul used the government’s laws to his advantage when he was being denied his rights. However, what’s often at stake is our witness. If we consider engaging in a lawsuit, we must carefully consider what it says about our dependence on God. Do we really need the money, or are we seeking it out of a need to be vindicated?

In Matthew 5:39-41, Jesus teaches us, “But I tell you, Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if someone wants to sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. If someone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles.” Ultimately, it would be better to be mistreated in the name of Christ, proclaiming that our satisfaction comes from him alone and nothing else, than to push people away from him due to our need for vengeance or personal justice. God tells us, “It is mine to avenge,” (Rom. 12:19) so we can leave that in His hands to a certain extent. Instead, we must do the hard work of forgiveness. Forgiveness is far more difficult than all the legal complexities of lawsuits, but it is worth the effort, and reaps a treasure that cannot be destroyed by moth or rust.

For the last two months I have been serving as a college minister at UNC-Greensboro. During this time I have often heard the university referred to as a “suitcase school.” Four thousand students live right on campus during the week, but each weekend a large portion of these students pack their bags and go home. As a result, the campus is all but dead on the weekends, hence the label “suitcase school.”

Now even if you didn’t attend a university like UNCG, most of us knew at least one person in college who couldn’t seem to leave their hometown behind. Maybe they had a boyfriend or girlfriend back there, or maybe they simply struggled to adjust to college life, but whatever the reason these suitcase students were frequently absent Friday through Sunday, and their life at school whithered as a result.

And this is what happens when you live your life looking back–you are so busy living in the past, that your present life essentially dies. God calls you forward, but you cannot forget what is behind, so you miss out on the blessing God has for you in the present.

We see this principle all throughout Scripture, but there is no example that is more memorable than that of Lot’s wife. The story begins with Lot and his wife being warned to get out of Sodom and Gomorrah as quickly as possible because God is about to destroy the two cities. In addition to these instructions, God warns them not to look back. So Lot and his family flee the city just in time to escape its violent destruction, but what does Lot’s wife do just as they reach safety? She looks back. And as a result, she is turned into a pillar or salt.

Now I don’t know about you, but this punishment seems a little harsh. After all, if God was destroying an entire city, I would probably want to look, if for no other reason than morbid curiosity. Fire raining down from the sky would probably be quite a sight to behold! Yet God considers her action so grave that he turns her into salt. What is going on here?

Ultimately, the sin of Lot’s wife was not in her action, but in her motive. Though she did disobey God by looking back, the real problem was the state of her heart–she was unwilling to let go of the city she had left behind. And while anyone who has ever left home can relate to this sentiment, Sodom and Gomorrah was no ordinary place. It was a region in which sin ran rampant–the people were all about excess and immorality, and they completely neglected their poor. The people who lived there were intensely wicked, which means that Lot’s wife was not experiencing your average homesickness for girl friends left behind. Instead, she was probably missing the sinful pleasures she had enjoyed there. God wanted to make her new, but she liked her old life better.

And Lot’s wife was not the last to make this mistake. Luke 9:62 tells us, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.” Even though Christ delivers us from sin and death, we will oftentimes look back at the life we left behind. I sometimes find myself missing some of my old vices, thinking how fun it would be to enjoy them one last time. Yet in the same way that looking back led to Lot’s wife’s demise, turning back to our old sins can lead to spiritual death as well.

In fact, looking back can lead to all kinds of death. For example, women are terrible about holding grudges. Guys will get in a fight, duke it out, and be done with it, but women will hold onto their bitterness for years. And as a result, they sabotage their relationships. You may have told your friend that you’ve forgiven her, but in reality you can’t forget what she’s done, so the friendship slowly dies.

And then there’s the kind of looking back that leaves us bound by guilt. God wants us to walk in the freedom of forgiveness, yet we cannot forgive ourselves, and so we remain in a self-imposed cage of self-doubt and shame even though the prison doors have been flung open.

In this way, the fate of Lot’s wife serves as a warning to us all: Living in the past means almost certain death in the present. Yes, we should learn from the past, but we should not be bound by it. If we believe that God is a redeemer, then we can trust that whatever happened behind us will be redeemed for good in the future, so rather than cling to that which we cannot change, we must put our full energy into what we can do today–namely, learning to serve, honor and love God better and better with every passing day.

In 1942 a man named Karol Wojtyla joined the Nazi resistance movement in Poland. During that time, Nazi racist theory taught that non-Germans did not need higher education, so the Nazis closed all the universities in Poland. Fortunately, a network of underground schools developed throughout the country, and Wojtyla joined this movement. More specifically, he enrolled in an underground Catholic seminary.

Through the years this young man climbed the ranks of the Catholic Church, and he eventually became a bishop. It was during his tenure as bishop in Poland that he also worked to resist Communist rule in his country. Amazingly, in the course of his life this man had a hand in opposing two of the worst governmental regimes of modern history.

Years later, he would become Pope John Paul II.

Fast forward to 1979, in Greensboro, NC. Racial tension in this city was escalating to its boiling point, and it finally exploded in an event that would forever mark Greensboro’s history. The Black community confronted the Klu Klux Klan and Nazi groups of the city about their brazen racism, only to be massacred. In one particular show-down, Klan and Nazi citizens opened fire on a group of African Americans, killing seven and injuring others.

Among the African Americans in the group that day was a man named Nelson Johnson. By God’s grace he was not among the victims who were shot, and today he is an influential Baptist pastor in Greensboro who has done revolutionary work in social justice, and labors to heal the racial divisions of the city in the name of Christ.

Two men. They lived in different countries, different cultures, different times, and are of different races, but both witnessed extreme acts of violence and oppression. Yet in spite of these experiences, in spite of watching their fellow human beings commit unspeakable acts against other humans, neither of them has become jaded or militant in their work to change the world. In fact, their approach to outreach and evangelism is quite the opposite.

Several nights ago I had the pleasure of hearing Johnson speak to a group of students about his ministry, and he explained his understanding of evangelism as follows: As Christians, we should not see people as they are. In fact, we shouldn’t even see people as they see themselves. We should not see people in their actuality, but in their POTENTIALity. They are not drug dealers and prostitutes–they are children of God! And so we must invite them to live as children of God. And we must invite them over and over. They may never choose to answer the call, but we must never stop inviting them.

What struck me about Johnson’s description is how strikingly similar it sounded to something that Pope John Paul once said. In a document he wrote on Evangelism, the Pope responded to criticism of Christian evangelism. Many people don’t like the idea of Christians imposing their faith on others, and to this criticism Pope John Paul replied with the following: We as Christians, do not impose. Rather, we propose, as a lover proposes to his beloved.

What a gorgeous picture of evangelism! Both these men, who would have every reason to be defensive and even aggressive in their approach to the world, given what they know of its utter fallenness, have instead offered us a different kind of evangelistic vision: We should invite people to live as children of God, and we should propose to the lost as a lover to the beloved.

The reason that both these men, who come from completely different worlds, have arrived at such a similar conclusion, is they they have seen what happens when human beings devalue other human beings. When we place people in boxes, label them, determine whether or not they have worth, and make ourselves superior, then we have ceased to see others with the eyes of Christ.

And our evangelism often does just that. It is arrogant, condescending, and narrow-minded. We do not see people as children of God or lovers to be wooed, but as adversaries to be defeated, or numbers to be won.

It is in response to this strain of evangelism that I find Pope John Paul and Nelson Johnson to be most helpful. Evangelism is not simply a matter of convincing people of right understanding–it is a matter of loving them in a way that transforms them. A husband loves his wife so much that he would lay himself down for her–that is the kind of evangelism we are called to.

This is not a call to water down the message–it is a call to change our hearts. The message is not the problem–we are. We must stop using the Gospel to beat people, and instead see it as the means of humbly loving others that it is. Yes, there are hard teachings in the Gospel, and we must speak the truth, but as Ephesians 4:15 instructs, we must do so in love, and that requires fundamentally altering the way we see the recipients of the Gospel. If we do not truly love the people we are reaching, then everyone will know the “love” we display is a sham. Just because we call it love does not make it such.

As a lover to the beloved…do you see the lost in this way? I certainly don’t, but I wonder what my ministry would look like if I had this kind of profoundly rich love, this transformative love, for those around me. I pray that God would grace me with such an unswervingly faithful and passionate love, so that the world may one day stop cringing at the thought of evangelism, but instead come to yearn for it.