This week I came across a story about a large evangelical church that exercised church discipline on one of its members in a seemingly harsh way. For those of you who haven’t read the story I hate to be a tease, but I won’t share the link here. Church discipline is an exceedingly complex and difficult process, and since the story only shares one party’s perspective I have misgivings about shedding a spotlight on it now.

After reading this story I spent a lot of time reflecting on confession, repentance and church discipline. The story resurfaced some feelings and convictions I have developed over the years about this topic. Church discipline is one of those practices that is both Biblical and restorative, but when done poorly it can also be destructive and humiliating. I have seen both.

Since I have been ruminating about these issues all week, I want to offer a few tips for responding to another Christian when they are caught in sin. These thoughts are based not only on Scripture but the mistakes I have seen others make and the mistakes I have made myself. I hope they will be helpful to you.

One of the first things to consider when a friend confesses her sin is that sin brings out sin in others, including ourselves. Sin is a bell that cannot be un-rung, and its knell penetrates everyone around it. Not only does sin negatively impact the life of the sinner and those directly impacted by the action of the sin, but it also has the ability to sour an atmosphere, to corrode trust among friends, to create division, and to tempt.

I think a lot of Christians are aware of this dynamic, which is why many people react to sin in fear. There is a fear that we will somehow be sullied by the situation or pulled down by it, a fear that leads some Christians to distance themselves relationally and emotionally from the sinner, or take extreme measures to purge the sin from the community.

However, it’s important to realize that these very reactions can also be manifestations of sin. When the sin of a friend comes to light, Satan can gain a foothold in that moment by infecting us with the brokenness of the situation, but he does so in incredibly subtle ways. Often times the greatest temptation is not the originating sin itself,  but a temptation toward self-righteousness.

While we should always be sickened by the ugliness of sin–just as God is–we must also treat the sinner the way that God does: with grace, love, compassion, and mercy. That doesn’t mean we ignore what happened and brush it off–neither did God–but God was not so righteous that He could not come to earth and be near to us in our brokenness, to deliver us from that broken state, and restore us.

When a friend is caught in sexual sin or financial sin, it is not the inclination of most Christians to draw closer. We are more likely to recoil and judge, so be on guard against the additional brokenness that is caused by this un-Christlike reaction. Self-righteousness is nothing more than a consequence of sin, and it greatly inhibits the process of church discipline and restoration.

Second, there is a crucial distinction between a repentant sinner and an unrepentant sinner. In Matthew 18:15 Jesus teaches, “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother.” In this passage about church discipline (verses 15-20), this opening verse divides the passage in two: We are presented with the appropriate response for a repentant sinner, and the appropriate response for an unrepentant sinner. When dealing with a repentant sinner, the remaining verses of this passage are practically irrelevant.

Knowing this distinction, an unrepentant sinner is typically one who either denies their sin as being sinful, or who simply refuses to stop engaging in the sin. And while this distinction would seem clear, it is my experience that Christians have trouble determining when the sinner is “truly repentant.” As a result of this confusion, extra measures are sometimes put into place–beyond measures of accountability–to ensure that repentance has occurred.

To be fair, this is a difficult process and I sympathize with any leader who is charged with overseeing it, especially since this is the point at which church discipline can either be restorative or destructive, or a mix of both.

Every situation is different so I hesitate to prescribe a list of rules about how to detect whether a person is truly repentant or merely paying lip service. What I would encourage Christians to consider is whether the church discipline/accountability is at all punitive or excessive. Not only has Christ already paid for our sins (thereby nullifying the need for additional punishment), but the Holy Spirit also convicts and breaks us in the midst of our sin. If this conviction seems to have taken place, it is the job of the community to help the repentant Christian work toward restoration, not to ensure conviction and brokenness.

This leads me to my final thought about church discipline. We need to exercise church discipline in a way that will encourage confession among the body of Christ, not terrify people away from it. That is perhaps the most concerning element about the story I mentioned above. Regardless of the particular church’s perspective on the story, it is difficult to imagine that any church members who are struggling with the same sin would be encouraged to confess it. If repentant, confessing believers are treated to an iron fist and public humiliation, rather than compassionate chastening and disciplined restoration, the result will not be a transparent confessing community.

Confession is a tremendously difficult, humbling act by which one lay themselves bare before those they trust. Through confession one becomes extremely vulnerable. We must therefore be good stewards of this sacred trust. When a fellow Christian confesses their sin to you, you are put in a place of tremendous power to either restore them or break them further.

Church discipline is never easy and it may look harsh to those outside the church. That’s ok sometimes. But since we are sinners handling sin we are bound to respond imperfectly, and that is a humbling fact. Scripture is available to guide us, but the passages on church discipline aren’t the only relevant ones to direct us. The life and example of Christ is an even better starting point.

Last week I wrote a book review for Her.meneutics, the content of which led one commenter to assume I was hiding an obviously complementarian bias. This assumption made me laugh because I have, at others times, been “accused” of being egalitarian.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by these differing assumptions about my views, because women in ministry is not a topic I weigh in on often. Although I talk about women a LOT, I discuss the complementarian-egalitarian debate only rarely–at least on a public level. There are two reasons why I tend to avoid it. First, it is a deeply divisive topic. Too often one’s stance on this debate allows people to pigeon hole you theologically, and I don’t want my beliefs on one topic to eclipse beliefs that I feel are more important and central to the Christian faith.

I will get to the second reason in a bit.

Despite my pattern of avoidance, I have decided to share a little bit about my journey on this topic, not because my particular convictions on the issue are that revolutionary, but because the process that led me there is. I think you’ll understand what I mean as you read further.

To give you a little bit of background about my journey, I was raised in a PCUSA church but spent the last decade or so in a number of Southern Baptist churches. My last church, where I attended for 7 years, is complementarian. For a three year period I served at this church while attending Duke Divinity School, and this had a powerful and surprising impact on how I thought about gender roles and the church.

Although there were aspects of Complementarianism that I found troubling, I was more troubled by the lack of engagement with the topic at Duke. I would not say this is true of Duke on the whole, but on this particular issue I struggled to find any classmates who could adequately defend their egalitarian views based on Scripture. Most often they compared the verses about women to the verses about slavery and blithely brushed them off as cultural.

To me, this is a thoroughly inadequate approach to Scriptural interpretation. I was very dissatisfied with these answers and decided that if I had to choose between a complementarian church that took the Bible seriously or an egalitarian tradition that offered no sufficient exegesis on these difficult passages, I had to go with the complementarian church. Scriptural authority is too central to me.

So I remained at my church and continued to serve. Although I continued to think through these issues and wrestle with them, I am also someone who takes seriously the Biblical commands to submit to your church authorities, so the process remained largely private. That is the second reason why I have avoided engaging this topic on my blog. I did not want to risk subverting my church leaders by publicly wrestling with doctrines that my church upheld. I still stand by that conviction.

It has now been a year and a half since I left North Carolina to study in the Chicago area, and it has been an eye opening experience. I attend an evangelical seminary and all of my professors are egalitarian. We also joined a church whose leadership is egalitarian, something we discovered after a few visits. Additionally, I have encountered countless evangelical leaders and influencers who espouse egalitarian beliefs as they quietly (or not so quietly) give voice and opportunities to women in the church. And all of these people are doing so on Biblical grounds.

Since leaving North Carolina, I have been exposed to the very best Biblical, historical, and theological arguments for Egalitarianism. I had encountered them before, but it had always seemed like kind of a fringe movement of “liberals” within the evangelical tradition. I had never met orthodox, evangelical Christians who could defend their egalitarians views so Scripturally.

So, as I have continued to study this issue and and take a hard look at historical precedent, Scriptural teaching, the influence of culture on Scripture interpretation, Biblical ecclesiology, and the movement of the Holy Spirit, I have moved away from the complementarian position. I can no longer embrace it personally. To those of you who know me well you are probably not surprised by this–I think I was headed in this direction all along (especially since I have a father and husband who were encouraging me in this direction for years!).

However, that is not to say that I am taking up the egalitarian banner. As I have struggled with Complementarianism I have also wrestled with Egalitarianism. In particular, there are two issues that prevent me from owning the term for myself. The first is that I have yet to encounter a helpful egalitarian explanation of gender difference. Why would God create different genders if our only real differences are gifts alone? I’m sure some egalitarians out there have an answer to this question, but I have yet to find one that is satisfying to me.

Second, it is clear to me that Christian marriage must reflect the relationship between Christ and the church, and the Bible is clear that in this equation, men take on the role of head. My conviction on this topic might lead some to label me as a particular type of complementarian (some complementarians believe that gender roles apply to marriage alone), and I am somewhat comfortable with that but only if I can clarify the terms. In my marriage to Ike there is no power differential. We are partners, a team. Ike’s headship looks less like worldly leadership and more like that of Christ–he serves and he lays himself down in humility. I would love to say that I keep up with Ike in this Christlike model, but he is truly exemplary. He really does serve as the head of our family in the same way that we see Christ serve in Scripture.

All of that to say, this is a journey I am still on. Neither term has been especially helpful to me as I identify my own convictions, but I do see strengths in both positions.

With that in mind, the most important part of this process has been to blur my categories. I used to see complementarians as the faithful and egalitarians as the compromisers, and I can no longer make that distinction. However, I have been disappointed to learn that egalitarians are just as likely to stereotype complementarians as complemetarians are the reverse. While complementarians sometimes paint egalitarians as liberal activists who don’t take Scripture seriously, egalitarians often paint complementarians as chauvinists or ignorant naifs who simply don’t know any better.

To be sure, there are people who fit those stereotypes. For instance, there are bad apples on either side–complementarians who mask varying degrees of chauvinism behind theology, and egalitarians who have a humanistic ax to grind. Likewise, there are Christians in both camps who cannot tell you why they believe what they believe. Some complementarians cite vague cultural constructions about the place of women along with proof-texted verses, whereas egalitarians cite their own vague convictions about women’s rights and their own arsenal of scriptures.

We can sit around and knock down straw men all day. But the reality is that this is a topic on which godly men and women have, after careful reflection and extensive Bible study, come to very different conclusions. And they have done so in good conscience. It is because of this tension that I have trouble listening to anyone who generalizes the other side with sweeping stereotypes or accusations.

I have been on this journey for a long time and it has been a difficult one. However I am grateful for the path that God marked out for me because He has allowed me to be immersed in both “worlds” so to speak. Although it can be tempting to drift toward a black and white understanding of this debate, the spectrum of my experience usually rescues me from doing so.

As a final note, I want to be clear that the grace I show both sides is not the result of a blissfully positive experience in the complementarian tradition. I am sure that, to some egalitarians, I come across as one who has not been hurt by this debate, which is why I advocate for both sides so freely. But that is not the case. I have been hurt by complementarians in some ugly, un-Christian ways. However, I have also been defended against those same people by other complementarians. What’s more, some of the people who love me most, support me the most in ministry, and have been my most loyal friends are complementarians. Yes, I could focus on the times when men treated me like an inferior person, but to do so would not only overlook the far greater number of positive experiences, but it might also lead me down a path whose destination holds only bitterness and poisonous division.

That is why I will close this way too long post with a final caution. Disagreement is not unbiblical. We are are permitted to disagree and work through our problems in a godly manner. That said, both complementarians and egalitarians alike should study this issue and advocate whole-heartedly for the position they believe to be most biblical. However, we have GOT TO monitor the spirit with which these debates occur. When a divisive spirit infiltrates these discussions, two negative consequences are likely to occur: 1) Those with power will exercise it with even less sensitivity and do even greater harm to those who do not have power, and 2) Those without power will be heard even less as they forfeit their credibility, and the ensuing bitterness will pave a way for more destruction if they ever do gain power.

I hope to see neither consequence come to fruition. I do hope to see Christians find a way to hear one another, learn from one another, and love one another, even on topics which are incredibly heated and incredible personal, such as this one.

I really enjoy being nice to people.

Initiating friendly small talk with my grocery store cashier or graciously showing patience to my over-worked waitress all bring me happiness. There’s something about sharing a laugh with a stranger or bringing a smile to a person’s face that is nearly exhilarating. I love it. I walk away with an extra skip in my step and a part of me thinks, “I love being a Christian!”

In my mind, whenever I am kind to someone for no reason at all, whenever I extend mercy at a time when others might not, whenever I inquire about the day of the telemarketer who calls–I equate all these things with the Christian life. Christ compels us to love our neighbors and our enemies–to love EVERYONE–so the warm feeling I get from these encounters must be related to Jesus, I reason. It is the part of my heart that is conformed to his.

And perhaps that is true. Perhaps Jesus was just as friendly and happy-go-lucky with everyone he crossed. But I would be lying if I said that this mindset can’t be deceptive. Behind my joy is also a deep desire to be liked by everyone I meet. While I genuinely enjoy encouraging strangers because I do care about them, I also want people to think I’m nice and funny and kind. It builds me up inside. It makes me feel like a good person.

I know that not everyone is like me. Some people don’t care what everyone thinks about them. Others are so profoundly introverted that it is difficult to engage in the smallest exchanges with strangers. But I am quite sure there are other Christians like me, and there’s a part of me that wonders if my personality type gravitates toward the church. After all, the church affirms my natural inclinations. When I treat people the way I would treat people anyway (Christian or not) I can call that behavior Christian. I can credit spiritual fruit to myself even when there is no actual spiritual growth.

In his book Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis wrote of this problem. He warned of the “fatal mistake”  of believing that Christianity demands niceness alone. He believed that “a certain level of good conduct comes fairly easily” to some people, and he attributed this to what he called “natural causes.” Lewis therefore concluded that God does not look at an individual’s nice or nasty temperament the way we do. We might see an ornery Christian and call her a hypocrite, whereas a kind and gentle Christian incites our praise. What we fail to consider is where each person started. Who were they before they knew Christ? If they were just as nice and friendly prior to salvation as they were following, then their sanctification will look different than that of the temperamental Christian.

While the grumpy Christian may seem to be in greater need of grace, Lewis warned that nice Christians are in greater peril. Where there is no perceived need, we depend less on God. If niceness comes naturally to us, and niceness is the goal, then we are less desperate for God.

That is a great danger. Given that people-pleasing is a form of idolatry, it can be easily hidden within the realm of the Christian community. It can be passed off as Christ-likeness when it is, in fact, sin. That is not to say that being kind to others is wrong, but that we must scrutinize our motives. On this front, Jesus offered some helpful words in Luke 6:

“If you love those who love you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who do good to you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. And if you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to get back the same amount. But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful. (v. 32-36)

Even in loving my enemies there is a temptation to people-please because I cannot stand the thought of someone disliking me. Yet admitting that temptation is the first step toward loving my neighbors and enemies for the right reason: by the grace of God for the glory of God.

At the heart of people-pleasing and a Christianity measured by niceness is a works righteousness that is antithetical to the gospel. The ultimate cure for this tendency is total dependence on God. Those for whom friendliness is harder are more likely to depend on God in this area; the rest of us are less so. That’s why it is crucial to remember the final aim of the Christian life is not niceness but complete and total transformation, as Lewis wrote,

“God became man to turn creatures into sons; not simply to produce better men of the old kind but to produce a new kind of man.”

That is a work that God alone is capable of achieving.

In his book Outliers, best-selling author Malcolm Gladwell makes a controversial claim. He questions the idea of the “self-made man” and explains that most successful people owe some of their fortune to luck. He writes,

“People don’t rise from nothing. We do owe something to parentage and patronage. The people who stand before kings may look like they did it all by themselves. But in fact they are invariably the beneficiaries of hidden advantage and extraordinary opportunities and cultural legacies that that allow them to learn and work hard and make sense of the world in ways others cannot. It makes a difference where and when we grew up. The culture we belong to and the legacies passed down by our forebears shape the patterns of our achievement in ways we cannot begin to imagine.” (19)

As evidence of this phenomenon, Gladwell describes the “meritocracy” that is Canadian hockey. By all accounts, the most talented players succeed regardless of background. Or do they? Gladwell notes that 70% of pro hockey players are born between January and June. Only 10% between October and December. The reason for this strange statistical imbalance is simple: “the eligibility cutoff for age-class hockey is January 1. A boy who turns 10 on January 2, then, could be playing alongside someone who doesn’t turn ten until the end of the year.” This creates a huge gap in physical maturity.

As a result of this arbitrary cutoff date, the entire hockey system in Canada, beginning at a very young age, favors children who are born at the beginning of the cutoff cycle. As these players move through the system and eventually go pro, the consequence is entire teams of players who are largely born between January and April.

Gladwell goes on to cite other examples of circumstantial success, such as the numerous computer  trailblazers who all happened to be born around the same time:

Bill Gates was born in 1955

Paul Allen (co-founder of Microsoft) was born in 1953

Steve Balmer (has run Microsoft since 2000) was born in 1956

Steve Jobs was born in 1955

Eric Schmidt (who ran Novell) was born in 1955

Unlike hockey, these men did not benefit from the time of year they were born but the time in history. 1975 marked the dawn of the personal computer age. If, in 1975, you had already graduated from college and established a career, you were unlikely to have been on the cutting edge of this new technological horizon. However, if you were in college in 1975 and had access to these new computers, you were more likely to be at the right place at the right time for the coming revolution.

As you can see from the birth dates of these men, most were college-aged in 1975.

Gladwell includes many, many more examples, so I encourage you to check out the book if you’re interested in learning more. His research is a powerful reminder that many of us unknowingly benefit from the circumstances, influences and voices around us. We may never even recognize these advantages; they tend to be more apparent to those who did not receive them. We must therefore be cautious about assessing the extent of our own ability, hard work, or intelligence.

As a Christian, this research has MANY theological implications (more than I can address here).  The self-sufficient, self-made man mindset that is essential to the American Dream becomes extremely dangerous when it shapes our theology and ecclesiology, and there is one particular danger I want to explore today.

On Thursday I attended a debate between Jim Wallis and Al Mohler. The topic of the debate was whether social justice is essential to the mission of the church. Wallis defended the “yes” position and Mohler defended the “no.” What was refreshing about the debate is that both men held tightly to evangelism and social justice. Neither wanted to compromise these two crucial calls, and there was MUCH more common ground between them than there was disagreement. Wallis, however, feared that the church would discard social justice in favor of evangelism, and Mohler the reverse.

What frustrated me about the debate was not the men involved, but the audience. Audience members clearly had their favorites, which sometimes led to mumbled pot-shots against the other. This is common in debate settings, but the straw man accusations we level at those with whom we disagree is very troubling to me.

Returning to the subject of Gladwell’s book, I believe there is a temptation–as evidenced by the audience responses I just described–to assume our theological preferences are “self-made.” By “self” I am not so much referring to an individual person as a theological camp. Among various Christian traditions, there is a tendency to co-opt the theological contributions of other traditions, and then carry on as if the idea had always been ours all along.

There is little gratitude for–or even acknowledgment of–the myriad perspectives that differ from us but also contribute to our growth by identifying blind spots. In the context of Thursday’s debate, some of Mohler’s fans behaved as though Wallis’ work to promote social justice made him an enemy, and the same could be said of Wallis’ supporters. Isn’t it possible that neither position would have been quite as strong without the accountability of the other?

Clearly, this divisive spirit is evident in both liberal and conservative traditions alike. White conservative Christians decry racism yet simultaneously denigrate the black theological traditions that highlighted this problem in the first place. Liberal evangelicals spurn the narrow constraints of conservatives without affirming the theological anchor that is their commitment to Biblical orthodoxy. And evangelical women condemn the feminist theologians who worked to give them the very voice they now exercise.

While my disagreement with another might be valid, the spirit behind and expression of that disagreement betrays my ecclesiology. In 1 Corinthians 12 Paul  speaks of tremendous diversity within the church, a diversity that is mutually beneficial. His language reminds me that even those Christians with whom I disagree ardently are given to the church because I somehow need them. I am not whole without them. If not for our inter-dependence, I would swing toward one theological error and they would swing toward another.

The next time you encounter a Christian with whom you find almost no common ground, pause and ask God why you need them. Why did He include them in His church? What do they have to say that speaks into your blind spots? How have they contributed to the church in a manner that has made your theology stronger and more holistic? These questions save us from the fallacy of a self-made theology, and lead us toward an ecclesiology that is more fully Biblical.

This week I was researching a topic for work when I discovered an interesting tidbit of church history. Apparently, birthdays used to be a big deal for Christians, and not in a good way. Early in the church’s history, birthday celebrations–particularly those of emperors or kings–were associated with pagan culture and were consequently condemned.

For instance, early church theologian Origen (ca. 185-254 ca.) wrote rather scathingly,

Indeed one of our predecessors has observed that the birthday of Pharaoh is recorded in Genesis and recounts that it is the wicked man who, being in love with the affairs of birth and becoming, celebrates his birthday. But we, taking our cure from that interpreter, discover that nowhere in the scriptures is a birthday celebrated by a righteous person.

At that time, Roman society was big on birthdays. You might even remember that John the Baptist was beheaded in celebration of Herod’s birthday (Matt. 14). The early Christians therefore rejected this practice as a sign of distinction from the surrounding pagan culture. As a result, Christians did not formally observe Christmas for the first 300 years of the church’s existence.

Today, the rejection of birthday celebrations sounds rather silly. Few of us have a lot of theological stock invested in this practice. However, this type of historical eccentricity is not uncommon. Throughout the history of the church, each generation has grappled with issues that were pressing at the time, but became less central or even marginal by subsequent generations.

For another example, consider Christian music today. There are more Christian recording artists than I can count, and worship pastors frequently lead with songs they have written themselves. The present-day church is producing new music every day.

But it has not always been so. Isaac Watts, who famously wrote “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross” and “Joy to the World” created quite the scandal with his hymn writing. Born in 1674, Watts lived at a time when the only acceptable hymns came directly from Biblical poetry. Watts bucked this tradition by writing “original music,” a decision that invited tremendous criticism and character attacks. His music was described as “flights of fancy” and “Watts’ whims.” He was accused of arrogance, and his introduction of this new hymn tradition resulted in church debate and division. Today, we take this practice for granted.

For a final example, consider re-baptism. I have heard countless evangelical pastors encourage church members to get baptized on the grounds that the first one wasn’t “meaningful” or “you didn’t really know what you believed at the time” or “you did it for the wrong reasons.” Plenty of modern day Christians would be shocked by this language (in fact, I myself profoundly disagree with the theology behind those statements) but our disagreement is nothing compared to the horror such words would have elicited in the Protestant Reformers.

In his work “Concerning Rebaptism,” Martin Luther decried the above reasons for re-baptism as “godless and hypocritical” because they place greater emphasis on personal faith than on the free grace of God. On the grounds that re-baptism was the equivalent of re-crucifying Christ, many Anabaptists (which means “baptize again”) were executed for their beliefs.

Although baptism, as a central component of the Christian faith, is of far greater importance than birthdays or hymns, I think we can all agree that the Reformers’ response to re-baptism was, in the most extreme cases, wrong. No matter how much I may disagree with another Christian about their views on baptism, I am not prepared to kill them over it.

As you can see, it is easy for a generation to lose perspective. Whether the issue is small or large, our circumstances can magnify a problem in such a way that we cannot grasp its true perspective. Learning this lesson from church history, we do well to remember that spiritual stumbling blocks come in all shapes and sizes. They are not limited to sinful temptations. A theological truth can just as easily become a stumbling block as money or sex.

The church’s track record should humble us. It should also press us to wonder about our own generation’s theological stumbling blocks. What current debate will cause later Christians to snicker or grieve? What are our greatest theological or missional blind spots?

While I have my own suspicions, I also wonder how I can ever be sure. Either way, I think the very asking of these questions is bound to shape us in edifying ways.

Before joining a non-denominational church this past year, I spent the last 10-ish years at various Southern Baptist churches. Although I would like to say my tenure in the SBC was theologically motivated, it was actually more coincidental. The churches I liked only happened to be Southern Baptist, which is why I dragged my feet for so long before becoming a member of one. With a reputation for things like boycotting Disney and being downright out of touch, I didn’t want to take on the Southern Baptist name. I didn’t want close ties with a group I saw as conservative and angry.

Of course, over time my perspective gained nuance, complexity and depth. I began to push past the stereotypes and actually look at the people in these churches that I liked so much. I studied Baptist polity and gained a respect for its history. I finally made the decision to become a member of my last church and it was a great decision. I loved that church.

Yet even with all of that positive experience, there is a residing part of me that cringes at conservative judgmentalism. I work hard to distance myself from that particular angry camp. However, I have also learned that conservatives aren’t the only ones guilty of being angry all the time. In all honesty, left leaning Christians have their own set of issues with which they are angry and frustrated. The agendas are different, but the rhetoric is about the same.

I make these assessments, not as one standing self-righteously outside the vitriol, but as someone who has wrestled greatly with my own feelings of anger. There is a lot that happens in churches that makes me angry. There is a lot that happens in Christian culture that makes me mad. And while there are undoubtedly times when that anger has some miniscule point of connection with the heart of God,  I have really begun to ask myself how much of my anger is profoundly rooted in sin.

Whenever I reflect on my anger, I always try to avoid using the word “hate.” With such strong Scriptural warnings against hate, I explain away my anger saying, “I don’t hate that person or movement; I just feeling very frustrated with them.” And I don’t think I’m alone in that semantic tap-dancing. Christians know the Scriptural commands against hate so we are careful not to admit to crossing that line. But in doing so, I willfully ignore the basic definition of hate:

To dislike intensely or passionately; feel extreme aversion for or extreme hostility toward (dictionary.com)

Though I may not admit to hate, these words describe my feelings all too accurately.

Even more challenging is the fact that Jesus doesn’t stop with that definition. He equates hate with murder, and in doing so he places emphasis on the desire to hurt. When we hate someone we tend not only to dislike them, but we wish them harm. Perhaps we don’t wish them physical violence (or perhaps we do), but we are more likely to hurt them through slander or verbal attack. This aggression can seem blunted through the indirect work of blogging or putting on a pretense of “warning” other Christians, but at the end of the day we want to hurt their reputation or stick it to them. We may not murder them physically, but we certainly murder their good name.

Here I need to pause and affirm that most churches are not, on the whole, hotbeds of hate and anger. In fact, most Christians I know are loving and wonderful people. However, the sin of hate has not only been allowed to remain within our walls under the guise of righteousness, but it has also been given vent in the public realm. Blogging and tweeting make it all too easy to trash another Christian in a venue where EVERYONE, Christian and non-Christian alike, can see it. And while hate is never a good practice, this new trend is sabotaging the church’s witness. Why would anyone want to join the church when Christians publicly vilify other Christians so often?

Hate is perhaps one of the greatest temptations and easiest sins to succumb to. That is certainly why Jesus and the Bible exhort Christians to love over and over and over again. It is at the heart of the two Greatest Commandments. Jesus reminds us to love our neighbors AND our enemies. Read ALL of 1 John. To be sure, the Bible takes hate VERY seriously. Hate is a sin. It is a trap. It divides. It kills. And it undermines our witness to the world.

Jesus tells us in John 13:35 that we must be known for our love, but it is easy to forget just how difficult a call that is. It is against our natures, it is one of the truly counter-cultural things we can do, and we have to work HARD for it. But if we don’t, if we persist in being angry because there is so much in the church to be angry about, and if we continue to publicly and privately slander one another in our disagreements, we will only be known for our hate.

It is easy to disagree with one another and highlight our differences. It is easy to hate. But as much as the public airing of grievances tempts me to respond with anger in return, Jesus calls me to the narrow way. He calls me to his table, to remember our unity in him, and to love. Anyone can hate, but the true mark of Christ’s character is the ability to look past our differences and lay ourselves down in love. This is a call I am praying for the grace to live out.

Yesterday I was fortunate to catch up with an old friend who serves as a pastor at my last church. He is thinking about creating a women’s ministry for the ladies in his congregation and he wanted to pick my brain about the process. I was SO excited to hear how the Holy Spirit is working in and through the women there–I really do love women’s ministry and it is especially encouraging when my brothers in Christ catch a vision for it too. However, in the course of our conversation I realized that he has been running up against an obstacle that is very common in evangelical churches today: the first woman problem.

At churches across the country there is a tremendous desire for strong, female teachers from whom the women of the church can learn and be challenged to grow. While Christian women want to hear from women who can encourage them with the wisdom that is born out of life experience, there is also a desire (particularly in younger generations) to study the deeper theological truths of the faith. And while it’s usually not too difficult to find women who would teach in in the former category, very few would volunteer to teach the latter.

When it comes to teaching Scripture in a way that is intellectually challenging, most Christian women don’t feel up to the job. And yet the popular demand for it persists.

That is the problem of the first woman. Churches will not have solid, female teachers if there is no system in place to train them and nurture them. Unfortunately there are few pre-existing female leaders to remedy that problem, and male pastors are often hesitant to mentor women. What results is a Catch-22 in which the church needs female teachers but has no female teachers to train them.

Given this predicament, there will have to be a “first woman” in every church who sets aside her insecurities and fears about inadequacy and blazes a trail for the women behind her. This will not only require courage, but it will also require initiative. Fortunately, we’re not starting from scratch. For those women who possess a seminary education, you are ahead of the game! God has provided you with the knowledge and the training to equip your sisters in Christ, so don’t be afraid to use it. Ask God how He intends to use your education for the edification of the Body, and then respond in obedience.

For the remaining 99% of Christian women who have not attended seminary or Bible college, don’t rule yourself out. Remember women like Anne Graham Lotz, daughter of evangelist Billy Graham, who never went to seminary but grew deep in the Word through her own personal study. Not everyone with the gift of teaching attends seminary, but God nevertheless calls you to exercise your gift in faith. If you suspect that teaching is a gift God has granted you, I challenge you to use it to serve God and His Church!

And for those of you who do not have the gift of teaching, or you do not feel called to women’s ministry, I would encourage you to affirm the women in your life who do. It is tough being the “first woman.” It can be lonely and the footing often feels unsure. Fears and temptations abound. Which is why these women need affirmation, prayer, and truth. Encourage them and reflect back to them the gifts that you see.

Before I close, I thought I would leave you with a few helpful websites that are great resources to female leaders and teachers. Although not all of these sites are explicitly leadership-oriented, many of them are theologically challenging and/or thought-provoking. You can find each one of these in my blogroll, but I thought I would highlight a few here:

Practical Theology for Women–Wendy Alsup wrote a book by the same name, and while she is the kind of women you can relate to she also writes in a way that pushes women to go to the next level. I really love the way she thinks and the way that she is not afraid to say difficult things.

Her.meneutics–This blog is a part of Christianity Today and the content is consistently excellent. The word “hermeneutics” means “interpretation,” and each post offers a Christian woman’s interpretation of varying cultural topics. It is a great example of how to engage relevant topics from Biblical perspective, a skill that EVERY woman needs to have in this day and age.

Gifted for Leadership–The blog also belongs to Christianity Today but it specifically addresses questions surrounding women and leadership.

Leading and Loving It–This is a very special site in that its resources for women are unique. It specifically targets pastor’s wives and women in ministry, offering encouraging blog posts, online e-conferences featuring influential Christian women, retreats, and virtual online communities. The virtual groups are especially neat because they connect women to one another from all over the country. It’s like having a small group in which every member is from a different city.

That’s just a start, but there are many other resources out there. If you think I need to add one to the list, just post it below!

When it comes to women and leadership, God is definitely on the move. In the coming years we are sure to see more books written by women on the topic of theology, and there will be an increasing number of outlets for women who have leadership and teaching gifts and want to hone them. We are in a period of transition right now, which can often feel clumsy and difficult, but we also have great reason to rejoice in what is to come!

I had planned to write something totally different today. Until I went to church yesterday morning.

In honor of Martin Luther King Day my church devoted its entire service to remembering the struggle for racial reconciliation in this country and to our role in that struggle as Christians. The service was quite powerful and moved me to tears a number of times. As I sat there I kept thinking, “What a great idea, celebrating racial reconciliation on Martin Luther King weekend!”…as if the majority of African American churches in this country hadn’t been doing the same for years.

You see, in all my years going to church, that was the first time I had ever attended a worship service that observed today’s holiday. In fact, I have trouble remembering a sermon that even mentioned it. But what is even more troubling is the fact that I never noticed that absence until now. It never occurred to me that this day is a big deal for the church, one that many Christians surely celebrate each year with praise and gratitude to God. After all, much of Dr. King’s work was a direct result of the church community that supported him. As a pastor whose speeches were saturated with Scriptural language and who called his followers to resist evil in the way of Christ, King would not have succeeded without the church community behind him. In that sense, Martin Luther King day also reminds us of the perseverance of the Christian community.

Or at least one part of it.

While our country has come a long way since his death, Dr. King’s dream has yet to be fully realized and I take my own obliviousness to the holiday as evidence of that fact. Each year when the calendar calls us to reflect on King’s life, I have not celebrated with my brothers and sisters the way they have celebrated for themselves. And that is to my shame.

I have much to learn about loving my neighbor in the way that God has called me. But I also have much to learn about the church. At the end of the day, my lack of concern (which is not so much displayed by my opinion as it is by my attention) betrays an ecclesiological deficiency. I don’t value ALL parts of the body equally….not really. As 1 Corinthians 12:26 teaches us, “If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.” I can’t remember the last time I really did either one of those.

Dr. King himself seized upon this analogy in his famous “Letter from a Birmingham Jail.” In it he responded to local  pastors who criticized the protests of African Americans in their city, arguing that racial injustice should instead be worked out in the courts. The entire letter is both powerful and convicting, especially given that the pastors supposedly agreed with the cause–they just didn’t want to do anything about it. In response, King penned the following famous words:

I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.

That is an ecclesiological statement. As my pastor preached yesterday morning, when the Titanic was struck on one side, the passengers on the other side could not disregard it saying, “That side of the ship does not affect us.” No, whatever happens to one part of the ship affects all of the ship. And it is the same with the Body of Christ. The injustices still faced by minorities in this country are my concern because they are a part of me.

I hope that truth stirs your soul as much as it does mine. Oh how I am convicted of my  own hard-heartedness! As much as today is a time to celebrate, it is also a time to repent. My vision is too narrow and too selfish, which is why I pray that God would pierce my heart of stone and instead give me a heart of compassion and boldness. I pray that I would love others as much as God loves them, and that I would be more committed to the wholeness of His Bride. Until Christ returns, there is still much work to be done.

I know this sounds like a ridiculous question. The answer should be pretty obvious, especially for a Christian. But before you assume that you already know the answer, and before you click out of the window because Christmas is over and this post seems a little late in coming, you should know that I have a reason for posting this now. Just stick with me for a moment!

But first, let me back up to the weeks leading up to Christmas. This year I happened to come across a number of articles and television programs that “exposed” the elephant in the Christmas room–namely, that Jesus was not born on December 25th. In fact, he wasn’t even born in December. Judging by the information given to us in the Bible, he was probably born some time in the Spring.

While seemingly a scandal of the Christian faith, this “mistake” was made for a reason. The specific date of December 25 was chosen by earlier Christians in an effort to subvert popular pagan rituals associated with the day. An article on Christianity Today’s website explains:

“The eventual choice of December 25, made perhaps as early as 273, reflects a convergence of Origen’s concern about pagan gods and the church’s identification of God’s son with the celestial sun. December 25 already hosted two other related festivals: natalis solis invicti (the Roman “birth of the unconquered sun”), and the birthday of Mithras, the Iranian “Sun of Righteousness” whose worship was popular with Roman soldiers. The winter solstice, another celebration of the sun, fell just a few days earlier. Seeing that pagans were already exalting deities with some parallels to the true deity, church leaders decided to commandeer the date and introduce a new festival.

Western Christians first celebrated Christmas on December 25 in 336, after Emperor Constantine had declared Christianity the empire’s favored religion.” (“Why December 25, Elesha Coffman, Christianity Today, Aug. 8, 2008)

Why not aim for accuracy? Why choose a date so glaringly wrong? As one atheist critic put it, “What religion celebrates the birth of its leader 4 months early?” Although the answer to that question is partially provided by the above excerpt, the full answer comes from understanding WHY Christians celebrate Christmas at all. After all, Christians have not always done so.

To understand why Christians celebrate Christmas, you have to understand the role of Christmas in the larger life of the church. If you were raised in a Baptist or non-denominational church, then you probably grew up celebrating TWO main holidays each year: Christmas and Easter. However, you are also in the minority. For hundreds of years, Christians have observed numerous seasons of Christian holidays all year round. You may have heard of terms  like “Advent” or “Lent” without knowing what they meant, but they compose what is commonly known as the Christian Year.

The Christian Year is a calendar of Christian seasons that trace the life of Jesus. It begins with Advent, the season of preparation for Christmas. And as the Christian Year progresses, Christians remember the life of Christ. They prepare for his birth, celebrate his life, prepare for his death, mourn his crucifixion, and celebrate his resurrection. As Christians, we are called to follow the path of Christ, and the Christian Year is a brilliant way of helping us to do so. Every single year, Christians throughout the world embark on a year-long, spiritual journey that follows the life of Jesus. With the help of the Christian calendar, Christians train themselves to remember Jesus’ whole life, and live it out accordingly.

I love this idea, and it’s one of the old church traditions that I wish evangelical churches embraced with greater consistency. It’s also the reason I am posting this today. Having just finished Christmas, we sit near the beginning of the Christian Year. Rather than take a break until Easter, this season sets us on a journey of remembering the scope of Christ’s life.

So if the Christian Year sounds interesting to you and you would like to learn more, below is a brief outline of what it means. If you would like to join your Christian brothers and sisters who trace the path of Christ each year, I encourage you to start out by picking one season this year to study and learn more about. A good one to choose is Lent, which you may have already heard about. During Lent, Christians prepare for Easter by fasting and repenting over the sin that crucified Christ. Lent is a dark season, but it is also a powerful one!

Remember, the old traditions of the church may feel unfamiliar but they were a valuable part of discipleship for ancient Christians. You may not celebrate all the same traditions today, but Christmas is a vestige of those long-established practices. We celebrate Christmas, not because December 25th is a special day, but because we are forgetful people who lose the beauty of grace if we do not intentionally remember it each year. Christmas is just one day in the year-long discipline of remembering.

The Christian Year (excerpted from christianitysite.com)

• Advent: The four weeks before Christmas are a preparation time for the celebration of the Nativity of Jesus. The color purple symbolizes penitence and a readiness to learn. The first Sunday of Advent is the Christian New Years Day.
• Christmas: (Nativity of the Lord) Remembrance of the birth of Jesus Christ, the coming of Creator God into the midst of the human family. The colors of gold and white symbolize a festival time.
• Epiphany: January 6, through the beginning of Lent, remembers the visit of the Magi to the infant Jesus. The word itself means “revelation,” and the day not only celebrates God’s self-revelation through the birth of Jesus but also commemorates God’s revelation to the Gentiles (as symbolized by the magi).
• Lent: This 40 day event is a time of fasting in imitation of Jesus’ experience in the wilderness of temptation. It is a time of preparation for Easter and  of repentance by people.
• Holy Week: The days between Palm Sunday and Holy Saturday before Easter are known as Holy Week. These days observe the events in the life of Jesus from his entry into Jerusalem through his crucifixion and burial. Palm Sunday is sometimes called Passion Sunday because of the tragic events of the week to come. The primary observances of Holy Week are: Maundy Thursday (remembering the Last Supper); Good Friday (the passion and death of Jesus); and Holy Saturday (the burial of Jesus).
• Easter: The principal and most ancient festival of the Christian church year is Easter. It is a celebration of Christ’s resurrection, his victory over sin and death. Each Sunday is also a weekly celebration of the resurrection of Christ.
• Pentecost: This is a celebration of the coming of the Holy Spirit to a gathering of believers shortly after the resurrection and ascension of Jesus. The festival is observed 50 days after Easter. The day takes place on the Jewish day of Pentecost, thanksgiving for the first fruits of the wheat harvest. Pentecost signaled the birth of the Christian church, which has in turn led some Christians to celebrate the day with baptims. Pentecost begins on Sunday and continues through the Saturday before Trinity Sunday.

(Sorry for the world’s longest title–I couldn’t think of anything catchier.)

Several years ago Ed Stetzer wrote a fabulous article entitled You Can’t Love Jesus and Hate His Wife. If you haven’t read it I highly recommend it. In the article he examines the tendency of Christians to proclaim their allegiance to Christ while simultaneously denouncing the Christian church and abandoning involvement in a local body. The article has enduring relevance as many Christians continue to draw a stark distinction between Christ and Christianity. And in response to this on-going trend, Stetzer reminds us that Christ and the church are a packaged deal. You can’t have one and hate the other anymore than you can maintain a friendship with a married individual, all the while insulting their beloved spouse.

I love that analogy, which is why I want to revisit it today. I’ve been reflecting on what it means to love the church, and I believe it’s a question that Christians need to ponder further–particularly those who agree with Stetzer. While many of us affirm the importance of engagement in the local church, we are deceived if we equate that love with a love for the larger Body of Christ.

For many of us, we love the church in a way that more closely resembles high school cliques than it does a complete vision of the Kingdom. We love local communities full of people who look like we do and hold the same beliefs, but that doesn’t mean we love the Body of Christ. To draw on Paul’s language in 1 Corinthians 12, we love the hand or the ear with tremendous passion, but the rest of the Body is either irrelevant to us, or even perceived as being less the Body than we are.

When we talk about belonging to the Body of Christ, it’s important to take seriously Paul’s language in 1 Corinthians 12. He says that there are “many” parts with “different” gifts, but it’s easy to underestimate just how different we are. These differences extend beyond gifts, and even skin color. The members of the Body vary in nationality, culture, socioeconomic bracket, historical era, and even theology–all of which shape the way people live as disciples and contribute to the church. Unfortunately, we don’t talk about these distinctions according to Paul’s language–we instead gravitate towards language of “rightness.” If someone is different from us, they are thought to represent a perspective that is “less true” and therefore unneeded.

Even if you don’t hold that view explicitly, most of us adhere to it on a practical level. Again, just look at Paul’s language in 1 Corinthians 12:22: “On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable.” Paul reminds us that the diversity of the Body is not merely circumstantial–it is written into the Body’s very design. We NEED other members of the Body in order to function as a whole. Without these other parts, we are handicapped in our service to the Kingdom. Bearing that in mind, any mindset that treats alternate members as irrelevant or marginal runs in direct conflict with this verse. It fails to recognize our profound dependence on one another.

What does all of this mean on a practical level? It means that we need to do a better job of listening to Christians who are different from us and actively learning from them. Rather than write people off because they’re “too liberal” or “too conservative” or too whatever, we need to be asking questions like, “What can I learn from them?” or “What short-comings or theological gaps in my life do they reveal?” Even if you aren’t in complete agreement with someone, their gifts, passions, experiences and theological leanings are likely to complement yours in a way that you will ultimately strengthen you.

I suspect that Paul new this would be a struggle for Christians when he wrote those words 2,000 years ago. Historically speaking, humans don’t like people that are different from them. This teaching pushes us in a way that makes us uncomfortable. But if you take the time to talk with that women who have a totally different life experience and background from you, and really get to know them, you are more likely to be a Christian of great depth, as well as a more effective evangelist to an extremely complex and diverse world.

So even if you loved Stetzer’s article and find yourself in complete agreement with it, I urge you to reconsider his thesis once more: Do you truly love the entire Bride of Christ, or does your affection extend no further than the tip of her hand?