Showing posts with label internet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label internet. Show all posts

Monday, January 29, 2018

To My Fellow Robust Complementarians

Figure One: Some baggage. Not pictured are my copies of "So You're Thinking About Going to Seminary" and "How to Stay Christian in Seminary," because I think I might have burned those.


NOTE: I am really good at angering people on both sides of an issue. So let me get these caveats out there.

Egalitarian friends, this is post is obviously not for you. Feel free to eavesdrop, and possibly judge this post, but there are plenty of good egalitarian responses to Dr. Piper's latest dictum. I have read many of them, and some of them are truly helpful (even to a complementarian such as myself). But this post is not one of those. I am attempting something very different here.

Strict complementarian friends, this post isn't for you, either. While I'm glad that you're reading this, it's also a little weird that you're here. "Inconsistent," I believe your Pastor John would say. So feel free to read along, and maybe even weigh in, but if you agree that women shouldn't be seminary professors, then you and I have actually less in common on this issue than I have in common with our egalitarian siblings. And that should tell you something.

And friends from both camps--don't worry. By the time I'm done, I'll probably have angered plenty of the in-between folks I'm actually writing to, as well. I'm an equal opportunity offender, and I've come to accept that. But I am also an equal opportunity grieve-er, and that is much harder to bear. So pray for us all.



Dear Siblings who Live in the Complicated Grey Area,

I spent the past week in a flu-haze, so I only caught snippets of Dr. John Piper's missive regarding the dangers of women as seminary professors. A few texts and conversations here and there, asking what I thought. Mostly commiserating that once again, Piper gets to set the agenda, call the shots, and further entrench the idea that either you're a (wildly liberal) egalitarian or you're a (staunch, faithful) complementarian, with room for neither nuance nor nonsense.

It seems that there are a lot of us in "conservative" circles who don't agree with Pastor John. But there aren't many of us speaking that truth (that I can find, anyway) online. And pretty much only women writers, at that. Yes, there were a lot of good egalitarian responses, many of which pointed out the ways in which Dr. Piper's words are hurtful, random, and themselves inconsistent.

So I won't be directly rebutting Dr. Piper's post here. Perhaps that will come another day. Today, I want to assume that we're on the same page--that we both thought the podcast was unhelpful, inaccurate, and misrepresentative of where we live and what we believe. Today, I need to believe--despite the lack of representative blog posts and articles--that I am not alone in inhabiting this marginal space of non-Piper complementarianism. Today, I don't want so much to convince anyone to believe differently at either extreme, as to ask like-minded siblings to consider acting on these shared beliefs a little differently.

In my requests below, I've tried to be gracious. I've tried to be honest. And I've tried to be vulnerable. Rather than trying to point fingers, I'm trying to reach out trembling hands and ask for partnership, for help. Because we're in this together, right? I hope none of you feel too targeted or shamed by what I'm saying below. Forgive me (or at least let me know!) if you do. But I can't help but hope that some of these small steps could actually make a big difference.

So if you fit in this centrist, awkward space with me, would you please consider the following three ideas?


One. Given his latest unkindness, please stop quoting John Piper in your sermons, talks, Bible studies, books, social media posts, classes, etc. Yes, his positive contributions to Evangelicalism cannot be understated in the areas of world missions, "Christian Hedonism," and the like. But he wasn't the first to say those good things, and he hasn't been the last. As good as his stuff is, I promise that you can find another quote to use when you want to talk about the glory of God and our happiness.

I've pleaded before for you to no longer allow the Three Female Ghosts that Haunt the Church to preach your sermons. No longer quoting Dr. Piper is a very specific way you can go about this. Not convinced that using Piper quotes is really that damaging? An analogy: Southern Presbyterian friends who care deeply about racial reconciliation, you've learned to stop using Robert Lewis Dabney quotes, right? Dabney had a way with words and some truly beautiful things to say, especially in the areas of ecclesiology and soteriology. But most folks I know who do want to avoid being lumped in with his segregationist ideals (and hateful, dehumanizing rhetoric) have still decided to look elsewhere for sermon anecdotes and inspirational quotes. So yes--I'm drawing a line in the sand--but at least to me, a Piper quote is as hurtful as a Dabney quote. At best, it's tone deaf. At worst, it communicates alignment with someone who thinks I am in direct sin by doing campus ministry. John Piper thinks that women should never have direct, personal "guidance and influence" over a man, in any sphere, ever. He thinks that when I sit down with a male student or faculty member to encourage, challenge, and pray for them, I am "violating their sense of manhood." If that's not a direct indictment of who I am and what I've been called to do, I don't know what is. If you agree with Piper on this, then go in peace, friend (but didn't we already discuss that this post isn't for you?). If you disagree, then please see how much it grieves me when Dr. Piper is quoted on a variety of subject matters.

Don't hear what I'm not saying. I'm not saying don't read, appreciate, or seek a nuanced understanding of Dr. Piper. (I'm not even saying that about Dabney, actually.) I'm not saying burn all his books and reject his teaching entirely. I did--in a fit of pique, I'll admit--shove A Hunger for God and Let the Nations Be Glad to the back of the bookshelf. But I've kept them. By all means, dig into his prolific library when you want to better understand the importance of missions, or read his website if you want encouragement in areas of daily faith and practice. Just please, please, don't quote him. If you want to show support for myself and women like me, find somebody else to quote who hasn't so very clearly articulated such a toxic (and I believe, false!) view of complementarianism.


Two. Please stop letting John Piper define the entirety of complementarianism. I am begging you, be vocal about your positive views on women leading in appropriate and healthy ways, and be very clear that you disagree with Dr. Piper's stances on the matter. It is not enough to try to define our own "robust," "moderate," or "soft" complementarianism, where we articulate what we believe is a Biblical view of gender. We must also articulate what it isn't. Really, we need a new term, so as to distance ourselves completely from what John Piper says about gender roles. So if anybody's got that, I would be incredibly grateful.

I've pleaded before, more obliquely, for leaders to be willing to graciously and publicly disagree with Piper's brand of strict complementarianism. After his podcast indicting the very idea of a female seminary professor, I'm willing to be more direct. I've heard some of you respectfully disagree with Dr. Piper on his views regarding mode and recipient of baptism. If you can lovingly say that you disagree with him about a sacrament, then I don't understand why you can't add his views on women to the list. If you're already saying, "I think my brother John is way off when he says that sprinkling infants is sinful," please, please, add "I think my brother John is way off when he says that women seminary professors are by nature sinful" to your repertoire. If you are already saying that women can be CEOs, can be seminary professors, can do campus ministry--and some of you have, and publicly--then please, please, also articulate that you respectfully disagree with Dr. Piper when he says that they can't. If you won't put two and two together to get four, then I start to wonder if you ever really did affirm me in my calling. I start to wonder if you meant it, or if you've changed your mind since then. And if you won't put two and two together to get four, please believe me when I tell you that too many of the men (and women) who are listening to you will put two and two together to make five. And that twisted math is devastating to me, women like me, and the church in general.  It's the very reason why we need--and again, if you are a "robust" complementarian, you have already admitted that you agree with this--women seminary professors in the first place. We need the complementary nature of men and women, partnering together, to help the church thrive. We who are women need to know that men (under whose leadership we willingly submit ourselves) are listening, learning, and lamenting the ways that we sin against each other. You who are men need to know that women (whom you have been entrusted to lead as servant-leaders in the sacrificial legacy of Christ) are actually wounded when Dr. Piper's words go unchecked. We all need to be reminded that the embodied King Jesus came to earth as a man (and that's beautiful and it matters) to love and save men and women alike.

Again, don't hear what I'm not saying. I'm not saying you have to be hateful, or pedantic, or even very splashy about how Dr. Piper's brand of complementarianism is not your own. Just be honest, clear, and consistent about it. If I understand correctly, you and I believe that the complementarianism we see in the Bible is neither toxic nor harmful. We believe that certain boundaries aren't limiting, but rather freeing. We believe the opposite of what society tells us about gender roles, but we also believe the opposite of what Pastor John tells us. There is a third way, and I am so weary of it getting lost in the middle of false unity. I, myself, siblings, am so weary of being lost in the middle of this false unity.


Three. Finally, please support, bankroll, pray, advocate, and fight for the women in seminary that you know. Whether they are students or professors, it is not an easy thing to be a woman in a traditionally male-dominated field. I can ultimately only speak for myself, but it is a daily death to be the only woman in your program, in class, on a faculty, at a conference, or on a panel, or in any number of situations.

I've pleaded before for folks to understand what it's like to be the only woman in a theological setting. It's exhausting. And now, as I prepare to begin my seventh. year. in. seminary. (!) still the only woman in my MDiv program (and usually the only woman in my classes), John Piper's words are especially hard to bear. For the Lord's own mysterious reasons (no doubt part of which is my own sanctification and being humbled), I am at a seminary with only one female professor (and she not in the MDiv program). We've had women teaching MDiv classes in the past (and the Homiletics course, no less!), and the majority of my professors are supportive of my endeavors. But if Dr. Piper's rhetoric is allowed to continue to grow and influence others, then myself and women like me will still have to deal with a lot of vitriol and disdain. Whether my seminary hires female professors or not, or whether other women will join me in the MDiv program or not (please, oh, please! COME!) is secondary to (though of course ultimately part of) what the climate will be like. When Dr. Piper is allowed to blithely say that oh, sure--women can be in seminary or whatever, but he is not held accountable to what women in seminary need in the way of support, it's still harmful. And when Dr. Piper is allowed to offer hollow, nominal support for women in seminary without being held accountable to the hurt that his words cause, the damage is compounded.

So don't hear what I'm not saying. I'm not trying to change the minds of egalitarians to a complementarian position. I'm not even trying to change the minds of Pastor John supporters to reject what he's preaching. Yes, I'd love for egalitarians to be less alienated by and suspicious of the true complementarian position. Indeed, I'd be grateful if more folks stopped agreeing with toxic complementarianism and chose instead that arduous middle path to which I feel called. But what I'm really asking for is those who are already with me in orthodoxy to join me in orthopraxy. If you were angered by Dr. Piper's podcast but are in the complementarian camp, please speak up. If you disagree with the idea that female seminary professors can't be part of a healthy complementarian seminary, please, pray for those of us in the seminary trenches. And if you want to put your money, time, and emotional energy where your mouth is, then, please--fund more women in all areas of seminary. I am grateful for the scholarships that I do receive, and am not above accepting more. And I would be over the moon for an endowed chair specifically for a woman professor in my program!

And know that regardless, myself and women like me will persevere, because that's what God has asked us to do.

Robustly yours,
A Fellow Awkward Centrist.



Monday, August 14, 2017

To My Fellow Americans (Part 4)

From the cover of "Body Broken: Can Republicans and Democrats Sit in the Same Pew?"
by Charles D. Drew, New Growth Press, 2012; under US Copyright Fair Use Laws.
Cover design by Brandon Hill Design.

I know the issue is more than mere political divide, but it's not less than that, either. 

Dear Eighty-One Percent,

I've seen a lot of sympathy offered for those who were hurt in Charlottesville this weekend. Social media is full of calls for "loving thoughts" and prayer for #Charlottesville. Regular folks and celebrities alike are tweeting their condemnation of the violence, with hashtags like #BeKind and #Resist. It's definitely "trending."

There are also a lot of folks who are doing even more than engaging on social media. People of all skin tones and backgrounds are peacefully protesting across the country. Charities are providing the opportunity to help with the legal and medical needs of the victims. Wealthy folk are putting their money where their mouths are, tangible support to match their tweets.

And yet.

Remember the "Occupy Wall Street" protests? Folks also engaged in a variety of ways around that cause. "The One Percent" became synonymous with privilege and being out-of-touch. In the same way that the "1%" of Americans is made up of privileged folks, so too is the "81%" of Evangelicals who voted for Donald Trump. A privilege which, though not based solely in financial wealth, still affords the 81% the ability to ignore the reality behind Charlottesville. To rest in their privilege and stay out-of-touch. So many people are asking, "How can we help?" Will those of you who voted for President Trump actually listen to the answer?

During the election, Christian people of color and minority status said: "We are afraid. This man encourages xenophobia and exceptionalism. His violent message will lead to violent actions." Many of those who would later vote for Trump--the 81%--responded: "No, you're reading into it. Don't be so paranoid. Your fears are unfounded and unreasonable."

As the election progressed, Christian people of color and minority status pleaded: "We are afraid. This man is backed by hateful people in the alt-right, anti-semitic movement. His words and behavior toward the most vulnerable are predatory, disdainful, and dangerous. If he is president, many of us--our children and families--will suffer." Yet Christian folks replied: "Abortion is too big of an issue to let go of! Our next president will choose at least one Supreme Court Justice! The 'least of these' talked about by Jesus were the unborn, and that's it. Your fears are distracting us from the real battle for life."

When the electoral college turned fiction into fact, Christian people of color and minority status cried out: "We are afraid! How could this happen? How could 81% of our brothers and sisters in the church care so little for our well-being that they were willing to ignore the threat of Trump? How could they look the other way regarding his misogyny, racism, and lies? Where do we go when we feel unsafe in our own churches?" And the 81% lashed out: "Our hands were tied. We had an impossible choice. Hillary is evil, and we have to protect babies. It hurts us that you say you feel unsafe. Your well-being isn't threatened by Trump's presidency! Please stop being so divisive."

When President-Elect Trump named alt-right, white supremacists to his cabinet and other important positions, Christian people of color and minority status wept and raged. When Trump took oaths to defend and protect our country, yet policies against the vulnerable began to take shape, sometimes Christian people of color and minority status ran out of things to say. Because fears were being realized, and the damage was already done. If these traumatized brothers and sisters did speak up, far too many of the 81% didn't want to hear it: "Don't say you told us so. This is different than what you predicted. There's not proof these things are related. It's not our business--that's what we have elected officials for. You're still being so paranoid. Hasn't the election divided us enough already? Could we please stop talking about all this and get back to gospel issues?"

And now Charlottesville has happened. Now an act of terror upon American soil by radical dissidents has occurred, and Trump supporters are surprised, horrified, and want to help. Now the blood of the vulnerable has been shed--yet again--and Christian people of color and minority status will raise weary heads yet again, to ask: "We are afraid--will you hear us? Please don't make excuses. Just listen. Please don't vote for President Trump in four years. Please don't assume that we're paranoid and unreasonable. Please start writing and calling your elected officials (of all affiliations) to tell them that not only is this violence unacceptable, so is the rhetoric and permissiveness which has spawned it. Please, brothers and sisters, don't turn a blind eye and rest in your privilege. We don't need you to beat yourselves up for voting for Trump. We need you to listen to the Holy Spirit, repent, and get busy grieving, protesting, and figuring out what God would have you do differently."

So, dear siblings in the 81%, will you listen? Will you lament with us? Will you cling to grace more than a political party? Will you move forward in repentance and in hope at what God is doing amidst the chaos? Will you stop making excuses for the current administration, stop berating those who are afraid, and enter the messy world of vulnerable people where there are no easy answers? I hope so.

Afraid yet clinging to Jesus,
A wounded sister.


Monday, November 28, 2016

To Those Who Want to Learn More


Dear Friends,

Many of my majority culture friends (and yes, I share majority culture privilege in some ways, too, but I also have some minority experiences) are asking, in the aftermath of the election, “How do I help?” I hear your hearts. I see your earnestness. And I believe you can help, can be a force for change. I believe you can do it.

But you might not like the answer as to how.

The election has revealed what’s been there all along: we have a race problem. I’ll say it again: We. Have. A. Race. Problem.

If that sentence makes you uncomfortable, good. This is not an easy topic. If that sentence makes you mad, use it. Ask Jesus--Immanuel--God With Us--to cleanse that anger of sin, and then use it for change. For the changing of your heart foremost. 

And if that sentence makes you say, “No, we don’t have a race problem!” then this post is not for you. This post is for brothers and sisters who are willing to speak this fundamental truth—that our country was founded on the sin of oppressing the vulnerable, and that those practices continue today. At every level, from individual to structural, vulnerable people are oppressed, marginalized, and hurt. If you disagree with that statement, then let us disagree graciously with one another and remain friends. 

But if you are starting to see the vulnerable around you, if you are becoming aware of the oppressed, the marginalized, the hurt and the invisible in our society, if you are becoming aware of your majority culture privilege, welcome. God is at work in you. Because he’s seen those folks--those human beings--all along. And now you that you see the brokenness, there’s no way back to blissful ignorance. There’s no way provided in the gospel for ignoring the hard truths and going backwards.

But does it seem impossible to move forward? Does it seem that as soon as you realize that we have a race problem, then you realize you’re part of that problem, and then when you try to solve that problem, you can't? That’s frustrating. That's disheartening. That's exhausting. And it's especially hard when it is the very people you'd like to serve that are telling you "no."

Would you like to know why you’re being told no? 
Yes, you'd like to know? 
Are you sure?

"No" is so often the answer for several reasons. Some of them are good reasons, some of them are bad, and some just are. But there are real reasons behind why your well-meaning efforts may not be helpful, may be met with resistance, and may drive wedges further.

Because the "yes" that God is asking of you now might be the worst kind of (in)action imaginable in our dominant culture: listening and lamenting.

I'll say it again. Listening and lamenting. 

“No,” you say, “You don’t get it. I want to DO something. Take action. Take a stand. Stop injustice in its tracks.” I say, "Wonderful! Good for you, but YOU don’t get it." I mean this literally. You do not get "it," that "it" being the depth and the complexity of the problem. If you aren’t willing to listen and lament, you truly cannot understand the minority experience and what needs to change. 

Yes, there is a time for action. Yes, that time is now. But no, brown folk don’t need a “white savior.” No, women don’t need a man to explain how we can work together to fix the problem. No, oppressed minority groups do not need the majority to lead them to victory as though the only way to win is through majority culture leadership. You, dear friend, you who are so passionately asking, “How do I help?” by your truly humble question, prove that you want to learn. You also prove that you shouldn’t be arguing with people when they answer you. Because you don't know. When you are told to listen and lament, then, do it. Do. It.

I told you the answer might not be something you wanted to hear. And yes, there are actions to be done, stands to be made, and truth to be shared. But until you can understand the helplessness that a minority of any kind feels, day in and day out, you won’t know how to help. Until you can listen and lament, your actions will be unhelpful, your stands will be awkward, and your truth will be biased.

Actually, even after you listen, you’re still going to mess it up sometimes. That’s the message of the gospel—that we’re all broken people who need a savior to restore and reconcile us to himself and one another. But the odds are much better for your actions to succeed if you educate yourself first. The chances will be much better that your stand will make a difference, and that your truth will be heard and taken to heart by others.

Still mad? Good. Still uncomfortable? Excellent. Still frustrated? Fantastic. Now sit with that. Sit in it. Ask God about it. Cry out to him about it, like the Psalmist did. Not just because it’s good for you (though it certainly is), but also because in this work of listening and lamenting, you are joining the work that is already being done by brothers and sisters around the country. You are joining the cries of kidnapped men, women, and children that were in horrific conditions during the Middle Passage and in chattel slavery. You are weeping along with immigrants who have paid life savings and risked drowning, starvation, suffocation, and being shamed, all to leave behind everything familiar. When you scream aloud with women who have been sexually harassed, abused, objectified and debased, you are joining the Holy Spirit and even the entire earth in groaning and pleading for the coming justice of the King. When you are willing to not just stand with others, but actually helplessly lie down in the street with those who are most vulnerable, then you are emulating Jesus and the sacrifices he made to dwell among us. Then you will receive greater understanding.

Because if you don’t understand at all the misery, vulnerability, and plight of human beings that I just described above, if you think it’s really not that bad, that the stories are inaccurate and biased, and if you feel the need to say “yeah, but—” then you are not ready for action. And nobody wants to hear that. I know, I don't want to hear that. I don't want to sit and wait on the Lord. But we all have to do it at one time or another, so why not now? Enter into this Advent season willing to listen and lament. Willing to wait on Jesus to arrive in unexpected and unheralded ways. 

You may need to have some concrete steps to learning how to listen and lament, and I get it. I'm that way, too. So read Prophetic Lament by Soong-Chan Rah. Heck, just read the book of Lamentations in the Bible. Read The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander. Read this brother's blog post (with an open mind) on Ferguson: Why "Hands Up, Don't Shoot" Still Matters. Visit the National African-American Museum at the Smithsonian, or the Civil Rights museums in cities like Memphis, Birmingham, Atlanta. Watch Do The Right Thing, 12 Years a Slave, or A Time to Kill. And if you want to know more about the immigrant experience, the LGBT experience, women's experience, or any of a number of minority experiences, stories aren't hard to find. As my good friend Jemar would say, "Google it. Google. It." People are willing to share, but let them do so on their own terms. 

We are all created in the image of God, and what a painful, wonderful blessing it is to listen to each others' stories, lament with one another, and wait on the Lord. 

Moving into God's presence,
A Fellow Image-Bearer


Tuesday, November 08, 2016

To My Fellow Americans (Part 3)

Dear Fellow Citizens,

Well, here I am once again, with delusions of presidential grandeur. I figure if some of the current candidates can fancy themselves worthy of the presidency, why can't I? Ah ha ha ha ha! *whimper*

If you know me at all, you're pretty aware that I'm no fan of Trump, nor am I a big Hillary fan. (I miss Bernie. Hell, I miss McCain as the Republican nominee, at this point.) But the reasons I did or didn't vote for him or her might not be what you'd think:

I didn't vote for him or her because of his or her personality.

Please appreciate my syntax here. That can be read both ways. It could be "the reason for my negative vote is the horribleness of said candidate." And there's something to that, especially with rhetoric that I believe defies ideals that the United States (at its best) stands for: acceptance, community, respect, and inclusion.

But syntactically, it could also be "I voted for him or her, but not because of his or her personality." Because at the end of the day, personality is only part of what does (or doesn't) qualify a candidate for office. Do I want a bombastic, hateful, unrepentant person in the White House? No. Do I think we've had those before? Actually, yes. But I think they could do their jobs because they knew how to lead, and how to inspire, and how to negotiate. Please note that all these descriptors, depending on how one defines them (good and bad), could apply equally well to either of the two main candidates, and probably to Gary Johnson, as well. (I only know this because I'm from New Mexico, and I fondly/embarrassedly remember him as governor.).

Lots of previous presidents have had terrible personalities. And discussions of social media, globalization, and a digital age aside, we were more shielded from those personalities. Those personalities sometimes got in the way, and sometimes didn't. But we're not voting for a pastor, people. We're not proposing to a future spouse. At the end of the day, it would be nice if our president were honest, gracious, and well-spoken. But some of our best past-presidents have been adulterers, thieves, liars, and awkward as hell. Yet they could still do their damn job. So that's who I voted for. I voted for the person I thought could best do the job, based on experience, credibility, reliability, etc. Not being an asshat is part of the job, but honestly, I'm willing to go with someone who can fumble through it and fake it a little. Is that cynical and defeatist? Maybe. Is that wasteful and hypocritical? Possibly. Is that enough reason to not vote? For me, no. If you didn't vote because you despise both major party candidates, I hear you. And I'm not judging you really, just looking at you a little sadly. Which really is far worse, right? Ha ha ha sorry.

So I did vote for him or her because of his or her abilities, or at least what I think they are. And I voted. Because I'm a citizen of heaven who trusts in the Kingship of Christ but has been sent into temporary exile in this world to love God and humans who are created in his image. My ultimate, heavenly citizenship doesn't mean I blow off caring about this world, it means I try to do it as Christ did. I want to engage people well. I want to remember to keep my eyes on heaven, part of which means seeing the people and needs around me. I want to engage people with passionate kindness and kind passion. (Ooh! That's a good one. Lawyer friends, please help me trademark that phrase.)

So who did I vote for? Not Jesus Christ (ugh), because he doesn't need my vote and he's in charge of everything, anyway. I voted for [SENTENCE REDACTED FOR PRIVACY AND NATIONAL SECURITY ISSUES]. We'll see how it goes.

Hopefully, Respectfully, and Patriotically Yours,
Chandra Crane, write-in candidate, Opinionist Party



Friday, July 15, 2016

To Those Lives Who are Bruised (Black and Blue)

NOTE: I've updated this to include Officer Jackson. I hate that. I hate that our world is so broken. Any loss of life, of any kind, any where, is not how it should be. Come, Lord Jesus. We need you desperately.


Dear Black and Blue Lives,

Let me emphasize that I see the significance of the word play there. As a unique segment of the population, black police officers are caught in the middle--in the cross-fire, if you will. You are black and blue, bruised and beaten. You are exhausted, both by your actual police work and with all the social implications surrounding that work.

I want to see you, faithful officers. I want to see, and respect, and honor you and your families. I want to lament with you, and try to understand the difficult space you inhabit as you are all-too-often forced to choose whose side you are on. I want to be on your side--because you are made in the image of God--even when I may disagree with your social media statements or be confused by your actions. I want you to know that I'm grateful. That I want to learn more about the dangers you face and the sacrifices you make.

To the "Salty Dad/Sharp young Black Officer" whose thoughts I read on Facebook, I want to say thank you for your service, and for sharing. I agree that we are in a "sad state of affairs" as humans. Your own experience with the violence in your childhood showcases that. I am so sorry that you had to grow up surrounded by fear. I am so sorry that you have had to see so many young black men die at the hands of other young black men in your work as a police officer. I cannot imagine what it is like to so vividly know the "unforgettable smell of deoxygenated dark red blood in the air" and to feel so helpless and weary. I wish more people on both sides would read your post and hear how "heartbreak weighs [you] down, rage flows through [your] veins, and tears fill [your] eyes." I am not going to argue about the statistics you've presented, because the irony is that the supposedly indisputable facts presented on all sides don't really change anything. The facts I want to take in are that you are tired, and scared, and unappreciated, and vilified by people from all positions. The facts that are, to me, indisputable, are that you risk your life daily and you feel like it's maybe all for nothing. I don't want to let the black-on-black crime narrative or the police brutality narrative drown out your story. It seems we disagree somewhat on what the problem is, and perhaps even moreso on what the solutions should be, but your Black and Blue Life Matters, no matter what anyone says, and no matter what mistakes you do or don't make, and I am grateful for you.

To Officer Liquori Tate, of Hattiesburg, MS, I want to say, thank you for your faithful and short-lived service. I mourn your death. I weep with your family at your loss. You paid the ultimate price, and there is no way to repay or even fully vindicate that, but you are remembered, by black lives and blue lives alike. Your life mattered. And not even because you fought hard to escape stereotypes and societal expectations of young black men. Not even because you were a good officer, described by fellow officers as having an "infectious joy", or because you were an upstanding citizen, or because you were a hero to your family and community. No--your Black and Blue Life Mattered (and still does) because you were made in the image of a holy God, and worthy of dignity and respect. A violent act took away your life, but it couldn't take away your value as a human being. I am grateful for you.

To Officer Montrell Jackson, of Baton Rouge, LA, I want to say, thank you for your willingness to serve, even when you felt like your city maybe didn't love you. Thank you for your ultimate sacrifice, which feels so pointless but must not be. We cannot let your death mean nothing. Your wife and baby boy cannot have lost you for nothing. Your sacrifice (and theirs) must be remembered. Your son will grow up without his father, but I pray, and hope, and cry out to the Lord that he will grow up in a city that loves him, values him, neither fears nor targets him. Your wife is now a single black mother, and I pray, and hope, and cry out to the Lord that she won't be judged or regarded with suspicion and contempt. Just as the legacy of the men and women of Mother Emmanuel who lost their lives ultimately ended up being the SC flag coming down, may your legacy be that change comes, and hearts are broken and healed anew, that a little more shalom comes on earth as it is in heaven. Your sister got the news while she was in church, and "didn't want to break down in church"--but perhaps that is the problem. We in the church don't allow for this pain--to weep, lament, and cry as the Psalmist and others did. We need to break down over your death, Officer Jackson, as well as the other officers, and Baton Rouge's citizens. We need to being willing to give everything--as you did--even if "everything" just looks like our comfort and our desire for easy solutions. Thank you for so bravely and graciously existing in the difficult middle ground. Your Black and Blue Life Mattered (and still does). I am grateful for you.

To Dallas Police Chief David Brown, I want to say thank you for your service and vulnerability. I cannot imagine the grief and shame you went through when your son's mental illness drove him to shoot both a police officer and a civilian. I can only imagine the frustration and despair you are feeling as all the work your department has done to decrease both crime and excessive force complaints was undermined by the heinous crime of a person who lost his value for all life. I may disagree that Black Lives Matter folks leaving the protest lines to join the police is a comprehensive solution, but your point is well-made that you are working hard to remove the need for protests. Your comment that you've "been black a long time, so [the bridge between police and black communities is] not much of a bridge" for you made me both laugh and sigh. What an exhausting place to be in--to be both and neither. To be constantly having to defend yourself as a black man, even as you have to defend yourself as a police officer. As a multi-ethnic woman, I have just a small idea of what that's like, and I'm sorry that you are caught in the middle and expected to always be a bridge-builder. I see you, sir, and I see your bravery, and determination, and heart. I don't want to let--I refuse to let--(necessary) discussions about gun-control and peaceful protests and mental illness completely blind me to seeing you, to saying that your Black and Blue Life Matters. I am grateful for you.

To Officer Nakia Jones, I want to say, thank you for your service and your passion. Thank you for being the Other three times over, a "double-minority," as a a black police woman. I hear your heart's cry, and I weep with you. I weep with you for the things you've experienced, and I rejoice for the barriers you've broken down. I hear your hurts. I love your delight in "wearing the blue" and I applaud your strong words calling for racist white officers to take that uniform off. And though I might say that it's not just white officers who are believing lies about the value of black lives, and thus we can't just remove all the racist white officers and expect everything to be fixed, I heard so much nuance in your speech. What a joy to hear you call both sides to task and ask for change from all communities involved. There are no simple answers, and as a working mom, you get that. I think of your children, and I hear them in the background, and I think of how much you sacrifice and juggle to be able to put on that uniform each day. And I am overwhelmed with your wisdom and strength. Your beautiful Black and Blue Life Matters. It matters to your family, and your community, and people like me that you'll probably never meet. I am grateful for you.

To bruised and battered Black and Blue lives all over the country (and world), I want to say, thank you. May God grant you peace, and safety, and a strong community in which to serve faithfully. May God heal the ways that lies may have crept into your own minds about the value of black lives and even your own lives. May God comfort you and your families in these uniquely heartbreaking times as well as in the daily exhaustion that comes with police work. I repent of the ways I've either forgotten about you or stereotyped you. Please forgive me for how I've bought into the us vs. them, black folks vs. police mentality. Thank you for standing in the gap. Thank you for your willingness to serve, to wrestle with complex issues, for your very lives. Wonderful, precious Black and Blue Lives that Matter because they matter to God.

With respect and gratitude,
A Fellow Citizen




Monday, June 27, 2016

To My Siblings in our Denomination

NOTE: Our denomination is theologically conservative. It is also culturally and politically conservative. It is complementarian, with a wide range of what that means for different people and churches. Part of why I am weary, of why this is so difficult for me, is that I am theologically conservative, but not culturally or politically so. I am a complementarian, valuing the overall leadership of men in the church, but also a "soft" complementarian, not thinking that women should be entirely absent or silent. It's a difficult middle ground.

I wish we could either have a new term, not having to use "soft" complementarian all the time, as though it's some wimpy, pitiful twisting of complementarianism. Or I wish we could reclaim the old term, resting in the beauty of the ways that the male and female genders complement one another, contrasting, highlighting, enhancing one another as we serve and lead together. But that is another post for another time.

Friends outside of the denomination, I apologize that this post may feel irrelevant or even frustrating. Thanks for bearing with me. Thanks for reading, anyway. I value your voices and regret any hurt I cause. But this is part of my journey, and this is important to me. So I can't help but write about it.


Dear Brothers in our Denomination,

Yesterday's sermon at church was beautiful.

I've recently had "remember your identity in Christ" preached at me by two men (with coincidentally the same name), and one could not be more different from the other. One strong, gracious, and Biblical. The other... not so much. I'm trying to hold to that truth I was reminded of yesterday--that my identity comes in Christ, not in how the world labels me (or even how I label myself), but it's hard. In part, because I sin. Because I play "I'm God's gift to the earth/Wait, I'm a worthless worm" mental games in between being reminded of the Gospel. Hooray sanctification.

It's also hard because the truth--that my identity is in Christ--isn't mutually exclusive with the pain of those other labels and the way I identify myself and others. We're in the "here and not yet" church age, and there are still things being worked out, still ways in which God is working out his truth in our hearts. Why is it important that I'm a multi-ethnic, multi-cultural woman serving my family, church, and graduate students? It matters precisely because of that truth--that I was created in the image of God, and he loves and delights in who he has made me to be. My gender, culture, and other identifiers aren't irrelevant because my identity is in Christ, they are celebrated in the wide diversity of the church. God hasn't saved a bunch of bland, indistinguishable people. He's saved a beautiful variety of people, in all colors, shapes, sizes, and personalities. He's saved men and women, and he values their differences.

And now we come to it.

After much initial drama and debate, our denomination has approved a Study Committee on Women in Ministry. This is a good thing. But it's also a polarizing thing. Already our little corner of social media has been ablaze with people who are both excited and distrustful. Already people are questioning the selection of the committee, the threat of it, the necessity of it, the timing of it. These voices are mostly white men. I don't hate white men. I'm really quite smitten with the one I'm married to. I respect and admire the ones who are our associate pastors and those who make up part of our elders. I gratefully sit under the tutelage of several white men in seminary.

The reaction on social media does seem to prove the necessity for the committee, and for it to include women. As one new friend on Facebook said, "If you want to know how certain things appear and feel to women members of the church, you kind of have to ask them." Thank you, sir.

And what I think many people are forgetting in all the hullabaloo is that behind it all are women. Women who have invested their lives in our denomination. Women who are more than stereotypes. Women who have submitted their lives to Christ, and are just trying to follow him faithfully.

But what I see in much of these discussions is the Three Female Ghosts that Haunt the Church. I'm haunted by these ghosts, brothers, and so are you. Please, I ask you--in all humility--see the women around you, hear our stories. Don't let whispers of ghosts and stereotypes be the only voices you hear.

Perhaps you see me as The Usurper--one of the women described in Jen Wilkins' above article as being perceived as "authority thieves." I'm not trying to usurp authority. I'm trying to serve from under proper authority--my elders, my husband, my God. Authority is a God-given, beautiful thing, and we can all thrive under it. I believe this.

Perhaps you're threatened by my exegesis. I've done some of the studies (in the Greek, yes) and I am a complementarian. But Biblical complementarianism does not (and should not!) equal chauvinism. I'm not trying to change your stance on Biblical truths, I'm trying to show you other Biblical views of your cultural norms.

Maybe you worry that I'm The Temptress--you think that "being above reproach [equals seeing women...] as sexual predators." Or you want to treat me like The Child because you think I'm "emotionally or intellectually weaker than men."

I wish you'd see me, and then treat me accordingly, as a sister.

I wish you'd see the women in your church. In your home. In your seminary. See the girls in your nursery, in your school, in your neighborhood. See the widows in your SS class, in your grocery store, in your city.

I wish you'd stop trafficking in stereotypes of angry women, who are demanding all sorts of rights. I wish you'd stop letting these Ghosts chair your committees and preach your sermons and type on your Facebook pages. I wish you'd really see, and listen to, the individual women around you who are indeed angry, but also weeping, and serving, and loving, and leading, and being humbled and renewed by the spirit.

I want to be sensitive to those men who truly feel threatened by what they see as the "scourge of liberalism" sneaking into our denomination. Its true--you are within your rights to be worried, to speak out, to voice concerns. But since when has Christianity been ultimately about our rights? Isn't it about what I learned in my Christology class about κενωσις? About following Christ's example as he laid down his rights, not to ignore the truth, but to pursue it? About seeing who else feels threatened, or marginalized, or hurt, and trying to understand their perspective, to support them, to be willing to listen to their stories?

Brothers, can you take a second to imagine what it feels like to be a token voice in a focus group for our new denominational logo, but be unable to vote on it? I'm not even saying that should or shouldn't change. I'm saying can you imagine the frustration or the feeling of being lesser?

Brothers, can you imagine what it was like to sit--for five hours--and listen to a discussion about your gender, without hearing from a single person of your gender (which is about 50% of the population)? Again, I'm not discussing whether we need change or not. I'm saying, just please try to imagine the feeling of helplessness and invisibility. The feeling that you are required--and always will be--to sit behind the curtain in what is essentially the Court of the Women and the Gentiles. It's alienating to say the least.

Brothers, can you picture a scene where people younger, less-trained, and in no actual authority over you consistently call you dismissive names as though you're a child? Can you picture the pain of being ignored merely because of your gender? Can you picture, and really try to sit with the image for a moment, the grief when other human beings--siblings in the gospel--look at you with suspicion and fear the minute you walk in the door, going where an actual authority figure has asked you to go?

Dear brothers, we are your sisters, which means we need and deserve your kindness in daily life, your protection from those who seek to harm us, your guidance as we serve in our homes and churches, your empowerment as we lead in appropriate ways.

We are also your co-heirs in Christ, which means we do not need your saving of our souls, your justifying of our existence, your condemnation as though only Eve ate the fruit, your platitudes in our grief, or your parenting as though we are your children (unless you're literally our dads--and then, it's still pretty specific in Ephesians how you're supposed to do that graciously). We are sinners saved by grace, just like you.

Some of you get it, or are at least listening. In my To My Brothers in Seminary Post, I didn't name names. I guess the same truths hold here. But you know who you are. Thank you for listening. For using your privilege to advocate for the voiceless. Thank you for being willing to admit mistakes and to fight back the Ghosts. Thank you for being strong, gracious, caring, stereotype-defying brothers.

Gratefully,
A Fellow Sibling


Dear Sisters in our Denomination,

I'm writing to say a few things. First, I lament with you. Even if the pain were not also my own, I would weep with you. And, I recognize that not all of our grief comes from the same places. Intersectionality is also an issue--for those of you who are also of certain ethnicities, socio-economic and educational statuses, etc., it can be hard to sort out why exactly you are being treated as lesser. In addition to other areas, for the areas in which you have felt grief for being shamed and not valued because you are a woman, I am sorry.

But a discussion on Facebook brought something to my attention. Some of you may not be feeling this pain, or may not have recognized it as being tied to your gender. Some of you may be already empowered to be faithful wives, mothers, and nursery workers. This is wonderful. But in commending the committee members to us, one of my professors said that "if we can't trust [the committee] on this issue, then we have far more problems than we know." I agree that they are trustworthy, gracious people. I (obviously) agree with the need for a committee. But I question not their trust but their representation. The committee members are heavily skewed to the majority. The majority of our denomination is of a certain age, stage, and educational/social background. But not all of us women who call it home are of that demographic.

There's a Fourth Ghost that haunts us, sisters: The Rebel. She who others think really would be happiest, if she only would submit to all the cultural (not Biblical) expectations for her. If she'd just stop fussing and accept things, she could focus and be at peace. She haunts us women perhaps most of all. We are not all stay-at-home moms. We are not all dainty, small, and graceful. We are not all called to be pastor's wives, or to host tea parties, or to homeschool. Not all of us are married, or have kids, or like crafting. And our callings and families are as beautiful and valuable as are the majority. But The Rebel doesn't want us valuing each other in our differences. She wants us to shame, blame, and accuse each other--on both sides--until we cannot see past the rift we have created. She wants us to be enemies, not siblings.

Sisters, will our voices be heard? Will those of us who are working outside the home be valued and heard? Will those of us who are single, or older or younger, be considered as the committee looks at what the Bible has to say? Or will those among us who are the Other be further marginalized--not because we actually disagree with the findings, but because no one thought to apply those findings to a broad spectrum of women within our denomination?

I hope they will. I do not doubt this committee will undertake its work with all seriousness and dependence on the Holy Spirit. I just hope that a committee on "Women in Ministry" will not limit itself to women ministering within current (read: culturally acceptable) norms. I pray that we will truly listen to the Bible and not let our denominational cultural norms dictate the findings. I know I'm in one accord with the committee when I say:

I want to hear Jesus speak.

And I know, sisters, that you do, as well.

Gratefully,
A Fellow Sister

Monday, March 21, 2016

To Those Who Have an Opinion II

To Those Who Have an Opinion...
      and Want to Share it Well,
(I'm preaching to myself today, friends--)

Dear Outspoken Friends Who Talk a Lot,

Thank you for keeping me honest. Thank you, to those with whom I disagree about a lot of things, for reminding me that we can dialogue well and truly agree to disagree. That is real friendship, not just echoing each other mindlessly and "liking" each other's posts vindictively. With some of you, we agree on most things, but not all. That is so important to me, to be reminded that no one--least of all me!--is perfect.


Dear Gracious Friends Who Listen Well,

Thank you for keeping me honest. Thank you, to those with whom I disagree about a lot of things, for reminding me, with reflective listening and quiet, concise statements, that I don't have all the answers, nor even most of them. That is real friendship, not just letting me rant and rave without stepping in to give me helpful pushback. With some of you, we agree on most things, but not all. That is so important to me, to be reminded that being passionate about something doesn't always necessitate being loud (all the time).


Dear Acquaintances Who Think Very Differently Than I Do,

Thank you for keeping me honest. Thank you for letting me into your lives, even just a little, whether digitally or otherwise. Please keep speaking up and speaking out about what matters to you. I want to know. With the help of the Holy Spirit, I long to see your voices valued, your humanity affirmed, your viewpoints clarified. It is so important for me to be reminded that there is a big world out there, that all people bear the beautiful image of God--even the hateful ones!--and that I have much to learn from others.


Dear Silent Friends Who Watch and Listen,

At first I was angry that so few of you were engaging on social media. Then some of you reminded me, gently, that perhaps social media isn't the best place to engage in these discussions (debates). And many of you, while silent in my social media feeds, are very vocal in personal relationships in your support of the "other," and insistence of respect for all people. So I apologize for judging you, and thank you for your willingness to challenge me. And I do encourage you to find where you can continue to speak truth, even if it is (most likely wisely) not on social media. We need your voices, friends. We need your viewpoints. We need to hear from everyone who has a voice, for in the exchange of ideas is a voice given to those who are without.


Dear Acquaintances Who Wonder Why No One Listens, Except Your Closest Friends,

Thank you for reminding me recently that there really are two types of you, those who are malicious and those who are just clueless. To the malicious ones, I am so done with you. I have tried, in good faith, to engage you and hear your viewpoints fairly. I have tried, in good conscience, to share my own viewpoints--to be vulnerable--and I (naively) assumed I would be treated with due respect. I have learned my lesson. No more will I entertain your hateful comments as legitimate discourse. No longer will I open myself up to attack. I will do my best, clinging to the strength of Christ, to remember that you do bear the imago dei, even when you deny that in others (including myself). To the clueless ones, I will try to continue to engage with you, but I will probably have to withdraw at times. Trying to communicate with people who do not want to hear other's ideas is exhausting. Trying to engage with people when their words are hateful, but they claim not to be trolls, is frustrating. And trying to listen to people who never stop to listen in return is often fruitless.


Dear Me,

So we fall into many categories. Lord have mercy on our soul. (And why are we speaking in the plural about ourselves?) We need to listen better. We need to have more grace for people. We also need to not take the trolls' words to heart. We do bear the image of God, despite what some might say. We do belong where the Lord has called us, despite attacks that leave us feeling helpless and alone. We are valuable, loved, and deserving of respect and kindness that we should show to others. That's pretty clear in the Gospel.

Maybe the reason I'm using plural language is because it's not just me. It's every woman who's been berated for seeking an education. It's every person of color whose culture has been dismissed and denigrated. It's every "other" that sticks out and is chastised for the audacity to not fall into line with comfortable societal norms. Maybe the reason I'm using plural language is because all of us--even the trolls--need to be reminded that we're all humans, and all in this together.

Sincerely,
One Who Has an Opinion, and Then Some




Friday, March 18, 2016

Free Shipping Fridays: Trump and Tiny Cooking

Dear Readers,

Look in the sky! What's that? It's a bird! It's a plane! It's...

A drone! Dropping two packages neatly on your doormat, whirring away before you can blink an eye or have time to fetch the shotgun. In the first (slightly banged-up, oversized) package, an eye-opening and humbling look at Trump supporters and a reminder to me (I need this reminder, YET AGAIN) that people are complicated, nuanced, and need/deserve much understanding and grace:

http://donteatthefruit.com/2016/03/why-there-are-no-trump-supporters-on-your-facebook-feed/
H/T Charlie Clauss


In the second package (tiny, tied neatly with pinterest-worthy homemade twine) is a YouTube series of Tiny Cooking videos. As in doll-house sized, edible food made before your very eyes, with doll-house utensils, and with doll-house appliances. It's mesmerizing, adorable, and ridiculous fun:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Djp-haNcpAE&list=PLkCmAQa67A-n2LwRhs0dQrFp7rfeOnQfq&index=27


Friday, March 11, 2016

Free Shipping Fridays: Weeping, Seminary, and Complementarianism

Dear Readers,

What I have for you today does not fit neatly in a box. Because I do not fit neatly in a box.

So no clever metaphors today, friends.

A friend sent me this article, and I suddenly found myself weeping. Because the author gets it; the author gets me. I do have much support and encouragement from family, friends, church members, students/faculty, etc. as I try to navigate being this... rebellious "soft" complementarian--who is doing campus ministry, trying to faithfully co-parent two little girls, and is pursuing a Master of Divinity in seminary. That support system gets me through the tough days. Those folks' opinions are what I truly value and listen to.

But to have a blogger the caliber of Tim Challies recommend this article--
which was written by a board member of Training Leaders International...
an organization in partnership with decidedly complementarian Bethlehem Baptist Church...

... it means a lot. Like maybe-soon-I'll-stop-scowling-at-the-Piper-books-shoved-to-the-back-of-the-shelf-since-The-Debacle a lot. Like fresh healing kind of a lot.

This will probably piss off hard-core complementarians and Those Guys I go to seminary with. Meh.
This may grieve egalitarians and most of the people I work with. That does make me sad.

But I've started to realize that I might as well speak up, because my very existence is bound to piss off and grieve those folks. So I might as well try to enter into conversation about it, and hopefully find some common ground.

Thank you to Darren Carlson for writing it. Thank you to Tim Challies for recommending it. Thank you to dear friend Anna Eubanks for sending me the link.

And thank you to everyone who reads it, and maybe understands me just a little better.

http://trainingleadersinternational.org/jgc/57/encouraging-women-to-do-biblical-studies-at-the-graduate-level

Friday, February 19, 2016

Free Shipping Fridays: the Comic Section

Dear Readers,

Check your doorstep, because rolled and tossed neatly on your doormat is not any old newspaper. It is a paper composed entirely of the funnies. Commentary on the internet and technology (and thus also global politics, social issues, deep thoughts, etc.) is in there, but in pleasing illustrated form. Because somedays you just want to shuffle around the house in your bunny slippers and read the comics.

The ridiculous, angry guy from the internet:
http://dilbert.com/strip/2015-06-07

The rise of technology:
http://www.usnews.com/cmsmedia/a9/120bde9adfd5f51967a486fe702b63/42747EC_130607_ramsey.jpg

Ever-helpful smartphones:
http://www.gocomics.com/baldo/2016/02/16

The reason we all love Facebook:
http://www.phdcomics.com/comics/archive.php?comicid=877

From the mouths of babes:
http://www.gocomics.com/boondocks/2014/08/25

Classic Calvin & Hobbes:
http://www.gocomics.com/calvinandhobbes/1995/08/17

And getting to the heart of it all:
http://theawkwardyeti.com/comic/philosopher-heart/




Tuesday, February 16, 2016

To the Other Side of the Story

Dear Grey Area, Middle of the Road, Flip Side of the Coin, Other Hand, etc.

I'm tired. I am plumb worn out. By social media, by conversations with people, by the news, by trying to explain complex situations to my kids. Maybe it's working with budding lawyers, or being a budding theologian (ha!) myself, but I wish there were easy answers to some things. It's starting to feel like while truth is truth (and facts are facts), there's no one way to apply truth. So it comes down to interpretation, life experience, and opinions. "Opinions are like...

Coin purses? Everyone has one, and it feels like I can see a little sense in them all?

No. That's a terrible analogy.

The point is, whether it's in pop culture (YES, Beyonce' should maybe put on some pants, but NO, I don't think her Halftime outfit was nearly as bad as a lot of the swimsuits I see on folks who might judge her, and why do ballerinas get a pass?); politics (NO, I don't want Hilary to be president, but YES, I'm a Democrat and would support certain women in the White House; I'm also pro life from "womb to tomb," so there's that); sports (NO, Cam Newton shouldn't have been rude, but YES, cut the poor kid some slack and appreciate all that he has done, and of course I think race plays into people freaking out); religion (YES, I'm a Christian, but NO, I'm not afraid to have friends of other belief systems, science included); or even food (NO, I don't think it's good to eat everything fried, buttered, and bacon-ed, but YES, I see the cultural value and tastiness in Southern food); I often find both sides of the argument compelling, or at least interesting. And that is exhausting.

Even when I think I've found a topic that I just can't see the other side of, it seems I start reading my Twitter feed, talking to classmates, or listening to the radio, and suddenly I start to understand. For example:

DONALD TRUMP IS A TERRIBLE HUMAN BEING AND IF HE WINS THE ELECTION, I WILL CRY
buuuutttttt... I get why people are fed up with politicians and like what they perceive as a "straight shooter" kind of persona.

or, how about:

JUST VACCINATE YOUR DAMN KIDS ALREADY BECAUSE THE RESEARCH IS CRAP AND DISEASES ARE COMING BACK BECAUSE OF THIS NONSENSE
yeeettttttt... I can't imagine the grief of being told that a vaccine caused your child to have autism and I can imagine the passion to stop something that seems to be so dangerous.

I really want to escape from you, Mr. Uncertainty. I'd really like to have an unassailable opinion, Madame Context. But I guess as long as my Facebook feed, my church, my neighborhood, and even my family remain diverse, that's not to be. So I'll stake my claim on Christ, and him crucified, dead, buried, raised, and returning. Even when everything else seems muddy and confusing, and even though my understanding is pitiful, limited, and tainted by sin, God is certain. He is unassailable. He is the answer in any context. He is perfectly true, infinitely diverse, and gloriously, graciously with us. I guess that's enough to keep this confused person going.

With Love and Contradictions,
A Walking Exception to the Rule

Friday, February 12, 2016

Free Shipping Fridays: Fluff and Stuff

Dear Readers,

Some days you just need a laugh, or an "awwwww" or even a large amount of sugar. Hopefully these links will supply you with the first two, while you go in search of the latter. Check your mailbox, friends, there's some virtual cotton candy stuffed inside...

Baby animals, including more than just puppies and kittens:
http://justcuteanimals.com/page/2?fp_type=news

Funny, clean memes:
http://cleanmemes.com

Faith in Humanity Restored (Common Grace, y'all):
http://www.cbsnews.com/pictures/heartwarming-tales-that-restore-our-faith-in-humanity/


Friday, January 29, 2016

Free Shipping Fridays: Hip Hop Remixes

Dear Readers,

A few weeks ago, I said I had run out of clever ways to say, "Here's a cool website. Enjoy!"

Shortly after hitting the publish button, I saw the title--"A Hunger for Reconciliation"--and thought, "Of course! Take-out food! Dang, that would have been quite punny. Oh, well I'll use it another time."

That other time is here, friends, and it's a doozy. Get some cash out your wallet, shuffle to the door, and pay up. 'Cause today's offering on your doorstep is from Chang's Pizza and Tacos, and it is delicious. Some of my favorite meals, from Hip Hop dished up with a Public Radio sauce to a crunchy snack of hilarious observations about white people, spiced with solid rhymes. 

Bon Appetit!


TJ Reynolds' newest album remixes classic NPR jingles with sick beats:

More about the multi-ethnic, stereotype-breaking artist:

One of his other albums, which features a Les Miz mashup:


Flight of the Conchords--they're the mother flipping' Rhymenoceros and Hiphopopotamus: 


Two of my favorite android/sci-fi obsessed/political activists--Janelle Monae and JJ DOOM (Jneiro Jarel/MF DOOM)--

Classic Janelle Monae, which I first heard on an episode of Stargate Universe (because I'm that nerdy and she's that awesome):

Janeiro Jarel's solo electronica android love song:

JJ DOOM's Keys to the Kuffs, including thoughts on GMOs and hand washing (I'm not even joking):


Weird Al's cover of Ridin' (Dirty), which even Chamillionaire loved:




Tuesday, January 26, 2016

To Those Who Have an Opinion

Dear Outspoken Friends with Whom I Agree Heartily,

I am so grateful for your passion and your well thought-out words. I am truly blessed to know you and to stand alongside you as we try to speak gracious truth and respect the imago dei in each of us. It's wearying being front and center, and it is a sweet reminder that even if I step back from the conflict every once in awhile, God is at work, and others will continue to speak up. Sometimes it feels like we're in a losing battle, and I have to wonder (especially on social media) exactly how much badgering and bullying it's wise to take. But I guess we seek the wisdom of the Holy Spirit and try to push on in wisdom and in faith. It is an honor to stand with you, dear ones.

With Much Love,
Chandra


Dear Outspoken Friends with Whom I Mostly Disagree,

I am so grateful for your passion and well thought-out words. I am truly blessed to know you and to have respectful dialog with you as we try to speak gracious truth and respect the imago dei in each of us. It's wearying being front and center, and I respect your willingness to stand up for what you believe. I need your diverse opinions. I need to be challenged and shaped by you, to have other voices in my life who think so much differently than I do. I am not always right, and I am (mostly) willing to admit it. I am so glad that although we may be on opposite sides of an issue, we stand together against badgering and bullying. In our friendship, I will continue to seek the wisdom of the Holy Spirit and push on in wisdom and in faith. It is an honor to know you, dear ones.

With a Grateful Heart,
Chandra


Dear Trolls,

I am so grateful for the ministry of the Holy Spirit that helps me keep my temper and pray for you--I will try to respect the imago dei in each of us. You do have an opinion, all right, and it is a mighty high opinion of yourselves. Sometimes I wonder why I keep you in my social media circles or even try to engage you when I see you in person. I would respect your willingness to stand up for what you believe, but I think what you mostly believe in is your own intelligence, witticisms, and sense of rightness. It's a poor platform upon which to build your house. I am not always right, and I am willing to admit it. I do not think that you are willing to admit your failings, and that makes for poor discussions, but even worse relationships. I will continue to seek the wisdom of the Holy Spirit and push on in wisdom and in faith when it comes to engaging you.

With the Patience Born Only of the Spirit,
Chandra Crane


Dear Silent Friends of all Convictions and Persuasions,

I suspect that most of you are either being passionate and articulate in other arenas, or wiser than am I when it comes to matters of throwing pearls before swine. Yet, I call you to stand up, speak out, and be willing to show support for myself and others when we incur the disdain of the trolls. Because every voice matters. If I can feel that you stand alongside me--in respecting the imago dei in each of us, if not in the actual issue--I can better be humble and open to necessary correction and respectful disagreements. Sometimes I, too, need to be reminded of the sin and folly of badgering and bullying. Sometimes it feels like I'm in a losing battle, and I don't ask you so much to join me in futility, as to see if your voice added might turn the tide. I am glad to know you, and glad for your affirmation of me in so many areas. But to affirm me is not to speak against them, and if no one but those being bullied speaks out, it will surely continue. And I know you well enough to know that is not your desire. It is an honor to know you, dear ones.

With Great Affection,
Chandra




Monday, January 18, 2016

To Those Who Are Leaving

Dear Disgruntled Friends,

To those who are considering leaving your church, no longer supporting a missionary, or giving up on a friendship, I'd like to share my spin on a parable. This may be blasphemous, and if so, I beg your forgiveness, as well as soliciting your gracious correction. But if you know me, I hope you'll see my heart, know that I'm mostly orthodox in my beliefs and practice, and have patience with me. Perhaps that's the entire point I'm trying to make.

Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking beautiful pearls, who, on finding one expensive pearl, departed...

because he saw that there were scratches on one side, and although the core was of great value, he could not accept any pearls that had any flaws whatsoever.

If the core of something is rotten, friends, then yes, we must in good conscience depart. If the core principles of something shift so much that we find we no longer have shared values enough to support an organization, it would be foolish and pointless to remain.

But what if the kingdom of heaven isn't, on this earth at least, perfected yet? What if the pearl of great price--God's people, grouped together in various organizations and places--still has some scratches on it? Can we dismiss it so easily? What would it look like to find that we have some disagreements--important ones, even--that need to be addressed and discussed together... yet we don't depart? What can it mean to say to our pastor or that missionary or those teachers, "I still see the good here. We still share a desire to seek God's holiness, and justice, and mercy. But I am concerned about this trend or that movement, and because I believe in this organization, I won't walk away. I'll ask questions, and pray, and strive to work alongside brothers and sisters to see change where needed, and the shoring up of Gospel truths where I may fear we are slipping."

What would that look like?

I'm not Jesus, and I don't claim that this parable is divinely inspired or inerrant. But I will say that I am, in the same way that Jesus sometimes was, being purposely oblique in expressing my views. Jesus did it because he was bringing about the kingdom of heaven, and he knew his father's will. I'm doing it because I don't want to offend, and I hope to make people think about larger issues, and also maybe because I'm a bit chicken to wade into turbulent waters. But all around me, I see people leaving, withdrawing support, and condemning people and organizations which they used to love, and it saddens me.

If the pearl in your hands is crumbling and completely eroded, then by all means--don't slip it on a string and put it around your neck. But if it's not a perfect sphere, or it's lost a little luster on one side, don't assume that there's nothing there of value. Jesus doesn't do that for us, and I don't think he wants us to do that for each other, either.

Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, everyone. With love,
Chandra

Monday, January 11, 2016

To Whom it May Concern II

To Whom it May Concern Presents: Real Students of Genius*
(Real stuudents of geniuuuussss)

Today we salute you, Mr. Asks a Not Really a Question But a Statement in Class
(Mr. Asks a Not Really a Question But a Statement in Claaaaaassss!)

Your hand goes up. Your eyebrow raises. You take a deep breath. You've got this!
(Prepare for brilliance!)

You know the jargon, and you've had the classes. You, and you alone, have valuable insight to add to the lecture.
(Look at me I've had three semesters of Greek and Hebrew!)

The professor pauses, astounded by your brilliant insight which has never been heard or even considered before. Someone give this student a full PhD, immediately.
(You might co-teeaach the next class together!)

So enjoy the praise of the professor and the envy of the class, HumbleBrag Master. 'Cause you're a legend, and not just in your own mind.
(Mr. Asks a Not Really a Question But a Statement in Classsssssss!)

Sincerely,
Terrible About Doing This Too
(Ms. Hypocrite Who's Worse Than Hermione Graaaangerrrr)


*shamelessly riffing on the Bud Light "Real Men of Genius" ad campaign

Friday, January 08, 2016

Free Shipping Fridays: A Hunger for Reconciliation

Dear Readers,

I'm out of clever analogies and ways of saying, "here are really great articles that I want to 'send' to you." So, here are really great articles that I want to "send" to you.... 

People are often surprised to discover that our family is in the PCA (Presbyterian Church in America) denomination. They are even more surprised to discover that we're happy about that. No church/denomination is a perfect fit, but we love the devotion to the Word and prayer, emphasis on the family, and desire for reconciliation that is taught in the PCA. The last one--reconciliation--is tricky. There's a history there. But being part of a multi-ethnic church--with a black head pastor--in Jackson, MS--is not something I would trade for any of my lesser preferences possibly being met. The systemic problems of racism in our country are once again being made more known to the dominant culture. And I'm proud to say, the PCA is doing some of the work necessary to see Gospel reconciliation happen.

Dr. Sean Lucas, explaining some recent events and responses:

http://byfaithonline.com/grace-race-and-the-pca/


Pablo Mazariegos, sharing about being neither black nor white, but really Other:

http://www.newcityeastlake.com/news/2015/9/24/what-i-experienced-at-racial-reconciliation-conference


Michelle Higgins, reminding the church of the unique mission of Gospel reconciliation:

https://thehigginsloftins.wordpress.com/2014/09/03/the-charge-resounding-still/


And Jemar Tisby, asking tough questions about what true reconciliation should look like:

http://www.christianitytoday.com/le/2015/fall/multi-cultural-conundrum.html


Enjoy. Be blessed. Disagree, discuss, and find God in the asking, friends. All of these authors are powerful writers, and brothers and sisters who help me in my own process of discernment and growth in this area.


Friday, October 30, 2015

Free Shipping Fridays: Praise is What I Do

Dear Readers,

Last week's Free Shipping Friday apparently got lost in the mail (oops), but here's an old-school CD, in a bubble wrap mailer, ready to pop into your three-disc changer and put on repeat. Sorry, I also forgot to do a Throwback Thursday post yesterday...

For your listening pleasure, some beautiful music that I do listen to on repeat. Just without having to fight ridiculous cellophane wrappers or broken, clunky jewel cases or without having to lug around huge binders full of CDs. I love the internet.

In De Lord (Negro Spiritual)

Praise is What I Do (William Murphy/Shekinah Glory Ministries)

Bless the Lord (Son of Man)  (Tye Tribbet & Greater Anointing)




Monday, October 26, 2015

To Our Team (Players as well as Fans)

Dear Brave and Bold,

Yeah, this is going to be a pretty shallow, ridiculous letter. Frankly, I'm behind the eight-ball on paperwork and classwork and papers and classes and just plain work. So sometimes it's nice to just turn the brain off, talk trash, and revel in the feel of a ridiculous, beautiful, phoenix-rising-from-the-ashes type of college football win.

Well done, boys. Good job, team. Thank you, coaching staff. And hell yeah, fans! I was there back in 2003 when we took down Auburn (and consequently, the goalposts) in an unprecedented upset. Kennan and Team Redd and I took to the field back then, and it was amazing. I would expect nothing less from fans for this game. I so wish I had a piece of goalpost... I know it's destructive and expensive but I envy our friends who have ragged chunks of bright yellow metal on their desks. I settled for a chunk of turf because I was young and crazy then (as opposed to now being older, crazier, but also theoretically more responsible, and concerned with the well-being of my kiddos).

I guess I'll get just a little political here and say: why not expand the definition of the "brave and bold" to include not just the football team but all of GT and her fans? I didn't even understand why the proposed song amendment "If I had a daughter sir, I'd dress her in white and gold; and put her on the campus to join the brave and bold" didn't make sense, because all along, I'd been thinking of the brave and bold as everybody. Which I realize doesn't make great sense, but hey--this proposed change wouldn't be the first time it was changed, anyway, as shown by these lyrics. If nothing else, "... put her on the campus to improve the ratio" is another option. Not necessarily the most flattering, or even helpful, but it at least acknowledges that engineering is a (sadly) male-dominated field.

As far as changing lyrics, I've been doing that ever since I became a fan, anyway. I sing, "He would yell, 'To Hell with Georgia!' like his mommy used to do!" so it's obvious I'm not above interjecting my own feminist politics into sacred words (I do the same thing with praise songs and hymns whose lyrics I find theologically questionable, though actually not targeting gender bias... but that's another post entirely). Really, I'm just here to cheer the team to victory, which is actually kind of possible. I remember another great game, in 2006 against Miami (weird to think of the days of Chan Gailey and Reggie Ball with fondness), where my delusions of fan grandeur were actually confirmed when I HELPED FORCE A TIMEOUT. We had amaaaazing seats in the student section, thanks to friend Kdids, and I screamed my heart out, along with everybody else, enough so that their QB had to call a timeout because nobody could hear the audible. This did not help me to calm down and not take things so seriously. But it was soooooo much fun. There's a small part of me that thinks that they can still hear me through the television, from hundreds of miles away. Like I said, now more responsible, in theory only.

Anyway, it's a rainy Monday morning but the glow from the weekend is sunshine enough for me today. Up with the White and Gold! Am I watching the #BlockSix clip online, again and again? Maaaaybe. Can you blame me? Go Jackets!

Drinking to All the Good Fellows (gender-neutral...?),
A Ramblin', Gamblin', Helluva (Wife-uva) Engineer!

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

To Peace and Quiet

Dear Elusive Silence,

No, I'm not talking to those creepy Doctor Who villains.  (And since you forget them when you look away, could one actually write a letter to them?  Discuss.)

I'm talking to you, Peace and Quiet.  Silence.  A still room, the ticking of a cuckoo clock, the whoosh of an air conditioner.  Outside sounds trickling in: someone mowing, a car cruising by, or a far-off bird warble.  The sounds I hear when I sit in my living room and just. stop. going. for. one. second.

I am (obviously) not talking about the excited chatter of a new Kindergartener, the intriguing commentary of a spouse, the phone call from a good friend, or even the happy babble of a two month-old. These are all beautiful and enriching--but ultimately distracting--sounds.

I am certainly not talking about the drone of my favorite television shows, the chime of text messages, or even the clatter of my typing on the keyboard.  I'm not even talking about the mostly noiseless things--interesting websites, good books, a tasty meal, a precious middle-of-the-night infant feeding session--that occupy the spaces in my life.

I am talking to the Quiet that comes when I cease my strivings, seek the Lord, and just exist.  You scare me, Silence.  Even as an introvert, I do not want to completely enter in, Solitude.  You are where God does deep work, where souls are laid bare, where one must learn to surrender completely.  You are far more terrifying than any science-fiction creature could ever be.

Even Bible readings and structured prayer can be turned into a distraction or a defense mechanism; but you, Silence, you strip away places to hide.  So with the encouragement of passages like 1 Kings 19 and Mark 1, with the guidance of books such as Ruth Haley Barton's An Invitation to Solitude and Silence and Richard Foster's Celebration of Discipline, with the support of family & friends and a multitude of saints who have gone before me, I will enter in.  I will embrace you, Silence, and trust that God is going to meet me.

With hopeful trepidation,
A Quiet Pilgrim