the instagram bible

Beware the Instagram Bible, my daughters – those filtered frames festooned with feathered verses, adorned in all manner of loops and tails, bedecked with blossoms, saturated with sunsets, culled and curated just for you.

Beware lest it become for you your source of daily bread. It is telling a partial truth.

I saw in my vision by night, and behold, I dreamed of a world in which every copy of the Bible was gone, except those portions we had preserved on Instagram. Consider this Bible, my daughters, if you will:

Its perfect squares are friend to the proverb, the promise, and the partial quote, leaving laws, lists, land-allotments, and long-stretching lessons to languish off-screen.

It comforts but rarely convicts.

It emotes but rarely exhorts.

It warms but rarely warns.

It promises but rarely prompts.

It moves but does not mortify.

It builds self-assurance but balks at self-examination.

It assembles an iconography whose artists, by spatial necessity, are constrained to choose

brevity over breadth,

inspiration over intellect,

devotion over doctrine.

Beware its conscribed canvas, where calligraphy conquers context.

Beware.

If the Prosperity Gospel offered us all the things, the Instagram Gospel offers us all the feels. It preaches good news in part, but we need the whole. It may move us in the moment, but it cannot sustain us through the storm.

My daughters, do not misunderstand. Like you, I do not wish to pull up my Insta account to find Levitical laws picked out in filigree and flowers. Nor do I desire genealogies superimposed on sunsets. I do not harbor a puritanical hatred of beauty, nor do I detest the illumination of a holy text by an ardent scribe. May I be the first to hit “like” on a timeless word of encouragement.

I do not ask the Instagram Bible to be all things. I can value, even enjoy it for what it is. But drawn by the glow of its inviting warmth, I must ask myself - and you -  to view it with care,

lest we love the part in place of the whole.

Lest we live as those in a vision by night, as those ensnared in a dream.

Beware the Instagram Bible, my daughters. It shines a partial light. We must know it both for what it says, and for what it does not.

trading self-focus for self-forgetfulness and awe

I blogged over at Desiring God recently on a pervasive problem within women's gatherings and resources - a preoccupation with self-focus instead of God-focus. I hope you find it helpful!

Women, Trade Self-Worth for Awe and Wonder

If you’ve spent much time in Christian women’s circles, you may have noticed that we have devoted many gatherings to exploring our identity.

Retreats, conferences, and topical Bible studies rush to assure us that we are redeemed and treasured, that our lives have purpose, that our actions carry eternal significance. If we just understood who we are — the message goes — we would turn from our sin patterns and our spiritual low self-esteem and experience the abundant life of which Jesus spoke.

Recently I attended a women’s conference at which this message predictably took center stage. One after another, all three keynote speakers took us to Psalm 139:14, urging us to see ourselves the way God sees us, as fearfully and wonderfully made. It could have been just about any women’s event, with just about any typical speaker. Christian women ask Psalm 139:14 to soothe us when our body image falters, or when we just don’t feel that smart, valuable, or capable. We ask it to bolster us when our limits weigh us down. But based on how frequently I hear it offered, I suspect the message may not be “sticking to our ribs” very well.

Why is that?

I believe it is because we have misdiagnosed our primary problem. As long as we keep the emphasis on us instead of on a higher vision, we will take small comfort from discussions of identity — and we will see little lasting change. Our primary problem as Christian women is not that we lack self-worth, not that we lack a sense of significance or purpose. It’s that we lack awe...

You can read the rest of the article {here}.

let not the men keep silent

On Monday, October 5 an open letter went viral on the internet, which sets Monday, October 5 apart from other Mondays not at all. It was written by a young man named Jared Mauldin, a senior in mechanical engineering at Eastern Washington University, to inform the females in his engineering classes that they would never share equality with him. He insightfully outlined all of the obstacles these women would have faced simply because they are women, delineating a list of sexist behaviors that were remarkable for just how unremarkable they were. An unremarkable list on an unremarkable Monday in October.

So why did the letter go viral?

Mauldin himself speculated about the reason in an interview with Huffpost:

"Nothing I said was new, it has all been said a thousand times before. The difference is that I am a man," he said. "Maybe by standing up and breaking the silence from the male side, I can help some more men begin to see the issues, and begin to listen to the women who have been speaking about this all along."

Jared Mauldin, barely out of adolescence, dropping grown-man truth-bombs like a boss.

Jared understands what I wish more men in ministry understood. In the ongoing discussion about whether women in complementarian churches are actually treated with the equal value that Genesis 1 bestows on them, it is time for men to speak up on behalf of their sisters. We women can tell our shared stories to whomever may listen, but our concerns won’t likely draw notice until our brothers perceive their validity, take them to heart, and speak them as their own. As long as women are the ones speaking them, we are easy to dismiss as complainers or (gasp) feminists.

Jared Mauldin had eyes to see the stereotypes and gender bias that plague women who venture into fields where “they don’t belong”. What he observed plays out in its own ways in churches, as well. Church staffs, like most male-heavy environments, often unwittingly perpetuate boy’s club mentalities, harmful gender stereotypes and tokenism. I and other women have occasionally donned protective gear and written on it.

Frankly, we are a little weary of men encouraging us, “You should write more on that.” No doubt, we will. But we could use their help.

The U.S Department of Homeland Security, able wordsmiths that they are, crafted a phrase to help identify potential threats to domestic safety: “If you see something, say something.” Brothers in ministry, please consider adopting this posture with regard to how women are treated in your churches. I get it, maybe you haven’t seen anything. I would urge you to look more closely, to ask more questions, and to do so in a way that invites dialogue from the women in your church. Many women do not feel safe telling their weird and sad stories, even when asked gently. You may need to gather them in groups in which you are the only man present. You may need a mechanism for gathering anonymous feedback. You may need to let your guard down a bit – most women who carry church wounds acknowledge that no one set out to wound them intentionally. But their stories still instruct.

Brothers, seek out their stories. And then, with all the courage of a college senior, tell their stories.

Bestow them with validity, take them to heart, and speak them as your own. Stand up and break the silence. In staff meetings, in sermons, in blog posts, shout down the practices and thinking patterns that confine women in the church to less-than status. Your message may not break the interwebs on an unremarkable Monday in October, but it just might break the back of gender nonsense in your church. It might draw a much-needed line between complementarian gender distinctions and commonplace gender bias. And that would be plenty remarkable, indeed.

more pressing than women preachers

Once again the internet has been abuzz with discussions of whether women should preach in the local church gathering. Whenever the issue is raised, those who oppose it are quick to explain that the role is not withheld from women because they are less valuable than men. And that “equal value” assertion always shifts my eyes from the pulpit to a more pressing concern. As some continue to debate the presence of women in the pulpit, we must not miss this immediate problem: the marked absence of women in areas of church leadership that are open to them.

The women e-mailing me regularly are not worried about winning the pulpit. They're still facing opposition over teaching the Bible to other women. They are fighting to be seen as necessary beyond children’s ministry and women’s ministry. They are fighting to contribute more than hospitality or a soft voice on the praise team. They are looking for leadership trajectories for women in the local church and finding virtually nothing. They watch their brothers receive advocacy and wonder who will invite them and equip them to lead well. If the contributions of women are equally valued in the church, shouldn’t we see some indication in the way we staff? In who we groom for leadership, both lay and vocational?

Because we don’t see that. Not even close. And we must not ignore this problem. 

This concern over women in the pulpit draws our attention because we regard the role of pastor highly, as we should (1 Tim. 3:1). But we must be careful that our high regard doesn’t morph into idolatry. The blogosphere overflows with articles addressed specifically to pastors: how to study more effectively, how to counsel, how to mentor, how to balance work and rest, how to lead. More often than not I wonder why the author limited his audience to pastors. Why not speak to the priesthood of all believers? Much of this counsel applies equally to the roles of teacher, counselor, minister, lay leader—roles that can be filled by both men and women. Roles that, if we focused on equipping, could make lighter work for the role of pastor in a way that is, well, biblical (Eph. 4:12). It’s no wonder serious, thoughtful Christians—men as well as women—think they need to be pastors when we represent that role as “the one for people with spiritual gifts” and devote comparatively little attention to other places of service. If we're worried about women in the pulpit, maybe the best thing we could do is to equip the entire congregation to do the work of ministry, to speak of everyone’s contributions as indispensible. Better yet, we could just do that out of obedience to God’s Word (1 Cor. 12).

I have no desire to minimize the role of pastor. It’s vitally important. But I don’t think it’s good for Christians to fixate on it at the expense of other roles. We need some hands and feet to go with all these heads, and many of them are female. The sisters among us are wondering when we’ll be able to tangibly demonstrate equal value in the local church, not just affirm this value with our words. Think of the problem this way: If a young man of obvious ministry ability and gifting showed up on the doorstep of your church, who would you put him in contact with? How would you help him find his place in ministry? What opportunities would you seek out for him to cultivate his gifts and gain ministry experience? What hopes would you have for him as a leader? Now, ask yourself the same questions for a woman. If the fact that she will never fill the pulpit means you cannot imagine a ministry trajectory for her, something is wrong. What ministry might she build and run? What place on your executive staff might she fill? What committee needs her leadership? What role in the Sunday gathering needs her voice and example? Where can her teaching gift be leveraged? What blind spot or planning dilemma can she speak into? What mission effort can she spearhead?

I am not interested in the pulpit. But I cherish the hope it will one day yield up a sermon on the priesthood of all believers: “Brothers, We Are Not All Brothers.” Treasure the brotherhood of the pastorate, but for the love of the church, invite your sisters to take a seat at the ministry table, a seat you may reflexively want to fill with a man. Debate the question of women preaching until Jesus returns if you must. But when he does, may he be greeted by a church whose practice affirms its belief that the equal value of men and women was never open to debate.

fight like a girl

Women's History Month is drawing to a close. Each year I think about posting about it, but March always seems to be such a busy time that I never get one written. If you've followed my writing, you know that I care a great deal about the messages the church sends to our daughters, so I didn't want this month to pass without taking the opportunity to help my readers think along those lines. Since I haven't had time to write, I thought I'd point you toward a teaching I gave recently in which we spent some time looking at women's history as recorded in the book of Exodus.

A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to address a group of college women on the topic of how they should view their importance to the church. My main point was this: 

Women, you are not an afterthought. What you contribute to the mission of the church is not of secondary importance.

I talked about the female empowerment message of the "Like a Girl" ad that ran during the Super Bowl, noting that female empowerment messages transcend Super Bowl ad campaigns. The Bible, in fact, paints a compelling picture of what it means to fight like a girl.

This is a message given by a female to a female audience, so it covers some ground you might never hear preached from a pulpit. But that's exactly why women teaching women is such a needed layer of discipleship. If you're a guy, don't let that scare you from listening along. If the church is to embrace a strong vision of womanhood, both men and women will need to value it.

You can watch or listen to the 35-minute message here:

{ Fight Like a Girl }

three female ghosts that haunt the church

I will never forget the first time I met my pastor. Our family had been at the church for two years before a meeting with another staff member threw me into his path. The first words out of his mouth were, “Jen Wilkin. You’ve been hiding from me!” A giant grin on his face, he draped me in a friendly hug, and then proceeded to ask me about the people and things I cared about. He kept eye contact. He reflected back what I was saying. I was completely thrown off. I don’t remember what books were on his desk or what artwork hung on the walls, but I left his office that day with a critical piece of insight: this room is not haunted.

He was right—I had been hiding. Coming off several years of “part-time” ministry at our previous church, my husband, Jeff, and I were weary and in no hurry to know and be known by the staff at our new church. But as a woman with leadership background, I had other hesitations as well. Any woman in ministry can tell you that you never know when you’re walking into a haunted house.

If you’re a male staff member at a church, I ask you to consider a ghost story of sorts. I don’t think for a minute that you hate women. I know there are valid reasons to take a measured approach to how you interact with us in ministry settings. I absolutely want you to be wise, but I don’t want you to be haunted. Three female ghosts haunt most churches, and I want you to recognize them so you can banish them from yours.

These three ghosts glide into staff meetings where key decisions are made. They hover in classrooms where theology is taught. They linger in prayer rooms where the weakest among us give voice to hurt. They strike fear into the hearts of both men and women, and worse, they breathe fear into the interactions between them. Their every intent is to cripple the ability of men and women to minister to and with one another.

Though you may not always be aware these ghosts are hovering, the women you interact with in ministry frequently are. I hear ghost stories almost on a weekly basis in the e-mails I receive from blog readers.

The three female ghosts that haunt us are the Usurper, the Temptress, and the Child.

1. The Usurper

This ghost gains permission to haunt when women are seen as authority thieves. Men who have been taught that women are looking for a way to take what has been given to them are particularly susceptible to the fear this ghost can instill. If this is your ghost, you may behave in the following ways when you interact with a woman, particularly a strong one:

• You find her thoughts or opinions vaguely threatening, even when she chooses soft words to express them.
• You speculate that her husband is probably a weak man (or that her singleness is due to her strong personality).
• You feel low-level concern that if you give an inch she will take a mile.
• You avoid including her in meetings where you think a strong female perspective might rock the boat or ruin the masculine vibe.
• You perceive her education level, hair length, or career path as potential red flags that she might want to control you in some way.
• Your conversations with her feel like sparring matches rather than mutually respectful dialogue. You hesitate to ask questions, and you tend to hear her questions as veiled challenges rather than honest inquiry.
• You silently question if her comfort in conversing with men may be a sign of disregard for gender roles.

2. The Temptress

This ghost gains permission to haunt when a concern for avoiding temptation or being above reproach morphs into a fear of women as sexual predators. Sometimes this ghost takes up residence because of a public leader’s moral failure, either within the church or within the broader Christian subculture. If this is your ghost, you may behave in the following ways when you interact with a woman, particularly an attractive one:

• You go out of your way to ensure your behavior communicates nothing too emotionally approachable or empathetic for fear you’ll be misunderstood to be flirting.
• You avoid prolonged eye contact.
• You silently question whether her outfit was chosen to draw your attention to her figure.
• You listen with heightened attention for innuendo in her words or gestures.
• You bring your colleague or assistant to every meeting with her, even if the meeting setting leaves no room to be misconstrued.
• You hesitate to offer physical contact of any kind, even (especially?) if she is in crisis.
• You consciously limit the length of your interactions with her for fear she might think you overly familiar.
• You feel compelled to include “safe” or formal phrasing in all your written and verbal interactions with her (“Tell your husband I said hello!” or “Many blessings on your ministry and family”).
• You Cc a colleague (or her spouse) on all correspondence.
• You silently question if her comfort in conversing with men may be a sign of sexual availability.

3. The Child

This ghost gains permission to haunt when women are seen as emotionally or intellectually weaker than men. If this is your ghost, you may behave in the following ways when you interact with a woman, particularly a younger one:

• You speak to her in simpler terms than you might use with a man of the same age.
• Your vocal tone modulates into “pastor voice” when you address her.
• In your responses to her, you tend to address her emotions rather than her thoughts.
• You view meetings with her as times where you have much insight to offer her but little insight to gain from her. You take few notes, or none at all.
• You dismiss her when she disagrees, because she “probably doesn’t see the big picture.”
• You feel constrained to smile beatifically and wear a “listening face” during your interactions with her.
• You direct her to resources less scholarly than those you might recommend to a man.

These three ghosts don’t just haunt men; they haunt women as well, shaping our choice of words, tone, dress, and demeanor. When fear governs our interactions, both genders drift into role-playing that subverts our ability to interact as equals. In the un-haunted church where love trumps fear, women are viewed (and view themselves) as allies rather than antagonists, sisters rather than seductresses, co-laborers rather than children.

Surely Jesus models this church for us in how he relates to the role-challenging boldness of Mary of Bethany, the fragrant alabaster offering of a repentant seductress, the childlike faith of a woman with an issue of blood. We might have advised him to err on the side of caution with these women. Yet even when women appeared to fit a clear stereotype, he responded without fear. If we consistently err on the side of caution, it’s worth noting that we consistently err.

Do some women usurp authority? Yes. Do some seduce? Yes. Do some lack emotional or intellectual maturity? Yes. And so do some men. But we must move from a paradigm of wariness to one of trust, trading the labels of usurper, temptress, child for those of ally, sister, co-laborer. Only then will men and women share the burden and privilege of ministry as they were intended.

My most recent meeting with my pastor stands out in my memory as well. He’s often taken the time to speak affirming words about my ministry or gifting. On this occasion, he spoke words I needed to hear more than I realized: “Jen, I’m not afraid of you.” Offered not as a challenge or a reprimand, but as a firm and empathetic assurance. Those are the words that invite women in the church to flourish. Those are the words that put ghosts to flight. 

when dad doesn’t disciple the kids

Three kinds of “single moms” exist in the church: the literal single mom who is raising children on her own, the mom whose husband is an unbeliever, and the mom whose husband professes belief but does not partner in the spiritual nurture of the family. For the true single mom and the mom married to an unbeliever, the task is clear: train your children in the Lord because no one else will. For the wife of the believing father guilty of spiritual absenteeism, the lines are blurry. She lives in the tension between wanting to honor her spouse and wanting to spiritually equip her children. All three “single moms” desperately need the support of the church, but in this post I want to focus specifically on the third mom, a woman trapped in a dilemma.

To Wait or to Act?

This mom walks in a great deal of anxiety, particularly in more conservative environments where emphasis is placed on fathers leading spiritually in the home. She sees her children going to bed each night with no family time spent in the scriptures or in prayer, with no conversations broached on the critical subjects that help kids transition to adulthood with the wisdom they need.  She has gently raised the suggestion that dad initiate these teaching moments, to be met with apathy or with short-lived token attempts. And because she has been taught that God wants men to be the ones to lead such conversations in the home, she begins to believe that the only course of action open to her is to sit silently, not wanting to usurp authority, confused about what her role should be as mother and wife, praying that the Lord would change her husband’s heart.

Not that prayer is a give-up position. It is a far better use of mom’s words than berating or begging dad to be more involved. Prayer for dad’s heart and for the hearts of the children should always be the first action mom pursues, both in homes where dad is spiritually present and in homes where he is not. But in homes where dad is spiritually absent, I believe mom is called both to pray and to act.

Step into the Street

When my children were in early elementary school I would walk them to the corner where the crossing guard would help them across a busy intersection to the school. She wore an orange vest and carried a stop sign. She had a whistle. She knew the traffic patterns. It was her job to make sure the cars stopped and the children crossed safely. As a parent, I did not have authority to tell my kids to cross the street when the intersection looked clear to me. That was the crossing guard’s job.

But let’s say for a minute that the crossing guard doesn’t do her job one morning. Let’s say she sees me coming with my little ones but decides to stay in her lawn chair scrolling through Instagram.  Let’s say that I ask her to help them across the intersection, but she ignores my valid request. What should I do? I don’t have an orange vest or a stop sign. I don’t know the traffic patterns like she does. Should I turn to my children and say, “Well, good luck – I’ll pray you make it safely to the other side!” 

Of course not. I should do what she has chosen not to do. I should watch for an opening in the traffic and walk my children safely across the street. I should submit to a higher authority than the crossing guard in the interest of doing what is safe and right.

Moms dealing with spiritually absent dads rightly feel anxiety for their children. In the busy intersection of life, it is neither safe nor right to leave children untrained in spiritual matters. In fact, it would be reprehensible to do so. But don’t worry - it’s possible to honor your sacred responsibility to your children and their Heavenly Father while still showing honor to their earthly father.

Make Disciples

The Great Commission calls followers of Christ to make disciples, teaching them to obey all He has commanded. Parents are charged with this very call within the home. A mom who can’t count on her husband to partner in fulfilling it will need courage and humility to move ahead in obedience to Christ. As His disciple, she can and must spend her efforts to make disciples of her children, teaching them to obey His commands. Moms, not only do you have permission to take this on, you have a mandate.

In the absence of dad’s help, move forward to fill the gap. Without vilifying dad, simply begin having the conversations necessary to guide your children safely to adulthood. Continue to pray for dad. Continue to invite him periodically to join the conversation. Continue to honor him by committing to speak well of him to your children. As you ask the Lord to help you in your efforts and to soften your husband’s heart, keep confessing any resentment or self-righteousness you might harbor. Lean on your Christian community for support. But don’t let fear of usurping an authority dad does not exercise keep you from equipping your kids with the fear of the Lord. The Lord delights in those who do His will. Train those kids. Remind yourself that God is their perfect Heavenly Father, and trust Him to care for them and shape them to be like His Son.

my 10 minutes at the dg national conference

When I saw the first video introducing the "Look at the Book" campaign, I was beside myself with excitement that the topic of Bible literacy was about to get a broader audience. When I was given the priceless gift of ten minutes to address the attendees of the Desiring God National Conference on my favorite topic, I was speechless.

Thankfully, the Lord provided ten minutes worth of speech when I took the platform. You can watch it via the link below.

And for those of you who thought or suggested that it was humanly impossible for me to speak for only ten minutes, I'm accepting your written apologies via email at your convenience...:)

LINK: What Women Need Most for Better Bible Study

on daughters and dating: how to intimidate suitors

I have two teen-aged daughters, so it was with some interest that I read a recent post entitled “Application to Date My Daughter”. It was pretty funny, playing on the idea of the stereotypical shotgun-toting father and the mortified daughter as they negotiate the tricky terrain of a first date.  Then Christian bloggers grabbed the concept, and for the most part, these versions were funny, too. There were some common themes: slouchy-panted unemployed suitors, dads breathing out Chuck Norris-inspired threats. I didn’t lose my well-developed sense of humor until I made the tactical error of glancing at some of the comments. And then I was just flat-out sad.

Here is the comment that made me the saddest, posted by a well-meaning young Christian father:

“Bro, this is awesome. My daughter’s only 2, but I am printing this for my fridge. Thanks for your godly example.”

Oh dear.

Okay, joke’s over. Bro. Let’s talk strategy for a second. Is that all you’ve got? You need a better plan than these low-level intimidation techniques. After all, she’s your DAUGHTER, for Pete’s sake. So let’s talk frankly about what you need to do to guard her interests when it comes to dating. Instead of brandishing a shotgun or breaking out an application, you need to build a wall.

That’s right, you heard me – build a wall. Go all “Rapunzel”. Build it so high that only the strongest of suitors can scale it. But don’t wait until your baby girl is a teenager, Bro  – start now. Start yesterday. There’s no time to waste.

build a wall

In Song of Solomon 8:8-9 we hear a family’s hope that their young sister will grow into a woman of strength and dignity. Can you guess what metaphor they use to describe that kind of woman? A wall. Their sister assures them in verse 10 that she is indeed a wall, complete with towers. Her statement indicates an assurance that she is not only strong, but able to defend herself against any unworthy suitors. That’s what you want, Bro – you want a wall.

Here’s the problem with shotgun jokes and applications posted on the fridge: to anyone paying attention, they announce that you fully expect your daughter to have poor judgment. Be assured that your daughter is paying attention.  And don’t be shocked if she meets your expectation. You might want to worry less about terrorizing or retro-fitting prospective suitors and worry more about preparing your daughter to choose wisely. And that means building a wall.

Instead of intimidating all your daughter’s potential suitors, raise a daughter who intimidates them just fine on her own. Because, you know what’s intimidating? Strength and dignity. Deep faith. Self-assuredness. Wisdom. Kindness. Humility. Industriousness. Those are the bricks that build the wall that withstands the advances of old Slouchy-Pants, whether you ever show up with your Winchester locked and loaded or not. The unsuitable suitor finds nothing more terrifying than a woman who knows her worth to God and to her family.

too strong?

But here’s a hard reality: if you raise that daughter, she’ll likely intimidate her fair share of “nice Christian boys” as well. Because a decent number of those guys have some nutty ideas about what it means to be in charge. I’m amazed and saddened at how often I hear young single guys say of bright, gifted single women, “Wow, she’s so strong I don’t think I could lead her.” At which point, too many bright, gifted single women begin to consider ways to “tone themselves down” or “soften themselves a bit”.

Raise a strong daughter, even if – no, especially if it means potential suitors question whether they can “lead her”, whatever that means to them. You’ve just identified those suitors as ineligible, without so much as an application process. Leadership is not about the strong looking for weaker people to lead. It’s about the humble looking for those whose strengths offset their weaknesses and complement their strengths. Strong leaders surround themselves with strong people, not with weak ones. Rather than finding the strengths of others threatening, they celebrate them and leverage them. This is Management 101, but I fear young Christian men and well-intentioned Christian parents of daughters have gotten a little fuzzy on the concept.

put down your shotgun

I often think that if we scrutinized our parenting with the same intensity we plan to turn on our daughters’ prospective suitors, we’d stop speculating about shotguns and applications and start building that wall. So, my well-meaning father of a two-year-old, please don’t hit “print” on that application just yet. Instead of cross-examining the man your daughter brings home, cross-examine the man who brought your daughter home from the hospital. She does not need the belated braggadocio of your intentions to protect her from slouchy-pants fools when she’s a teen. She needs you to hitch up your own and invest in her character - now.

So put down your shotgun. Pick up your Indian Princess guide book, or your coach’s clipboard. Take a seat at a tea party. Teach how to change a flat and start the mower. Discuss politics and economics and theology. Compliment a new outfit or an A in math. Tell her you think she is absolutely beautiful. Kneel at a pink chenille bedside and pray your guts out. Raise a daughter with a fully loaded heart and mind so that a fully loaded shotgun isn’t necessary. She shouldn’t need you to scare off weak suitors. Let her strength and dignity do the job.  Resolve to settle for nothing less than the best protection for your daughter. Resolve to be the kind of man you want her to bring home. Resolve to build a wall.

“What shall we do for our sister in the day when she shall be spoken for? If she be a wall, we will build upon her a palace of silver…” Song of Solomon 8:8-9

the assumption we cannot afford

We ended another year of women’s Bible study last Tuesday: eleven weeks in the epistles of John and eleven weeks in James. Fifty-four different churches were represented in our enrollment this year. A couple thousand more women podcast from around the country. At the conclusion I was deluged with cards and emails from participants expressing their gratitude, reflecting on what they had learned, and, almost uniformly, uttering a confession I have heard so often that it no longer surprises. I still waver between joy and discouragement as I read that confession on card after beautiful thank you card. I still vacillate between celebration and grief each time it turns up in my inbox. I still hesitate between thankfulness and frustration every time it is spoken to me over coffee. Their confession is this:

I’ve been in church for years, but no one has taught me to study my Bible until now.

                        

I remember confessing the same thing myself almost twenty years ago. It is gratifying to know that our efforts at FMWBS to help women know the Bible are changing the way they understand their God and their faith. But it is terrifying to me that so many log years in the church and remain unlearned in the Scriptures. This is not their fault, and it is not acceptable.

Church leaders, I fear we have made a costly and erroneous assumption about those we lead. I fear that in our enthusiasm to teach about finances, gender roles, healthy relationships, purity, culture wars, and even theology we have neglected to build foundational understanding of the Scriptures among our people. We have assumed that the time they spend in personal interaction with their Bible is accumulating for them a basic firsthand knowledge of what it says, what it means and how it should change them. Or perhaps we have assumed that kind of knowledge isn’t really that important.

So we continue to tell people this is what you should believe about marriage and this is what you need to know about doctrine and this is what your idolatry looks like, but because we never train them in the Scriptures, they have no framework to attach these exhortations to beyond their church membership or their pastor’s personality or their group leader’s opinion. More importantly, they have no plumb line to measure these exhortations against. It never occurs to them to disagree with what they are being taught because they cannot distinguish between our interpretation of Scripture and Scripture itself, having little to no firsthand knowledge of what it says.

And they’ve been in church for years.

When we offer topical help – even if the topic is doctrine – without first offering Bible literacy, we attempt to furnish a house we have neglected to construct. As a friend and seminarian said to me this week, “There is a reason that seminaries offer hermeneutics before systematic theology.” He is right. But it would seem many who have enjoyed the rare privilege of seminary have forgotten to pass on this basic principle to the churches they now lead.

We must teach the Bible. Please hear me. We must teach the Bible, and we must do so in such a way that those sitting under our teaching learn to feed themselves rather than rely solely on us to feed them. We cannot assume that our people know the first thing about where to start or how to proceed. It is not sufficient to send them a link to a reading plan or a study method. It is our job to give them good tools and to model how to use them. There is a reason many love “Jesus Calling” more than they love the Gospel of John. If we equip them with the greater thing, they will lose their desire for the lesser thing.

I wish you could see how the women in our studies come alive like well-watered plants after a drought. I wish you could hear their excitement over finally, finally being given some tools to build Bible literacy.

"I can’t believe how much I’ve grown since I started studying. ..I had only done topical studies… I didn’t know you could study like this… I was so tired of navel-gazing... I’ve never been asked to love God with my mind… My husband teases me about how excited I am to tell him what we’re learning… I’ve never studied a book of the Bible from start to finish…"

They are so humble in admitting what they don’t know. We must be humble in admitting what we have left undone.

As I read their notes joy always trumps discouragement. Celebration overturns grief. Thankfulness overrides frustration. And because the need is great, I commit myself to wade through another stack of commentaries, to write another curriculum on another book of the Bible, to give another year to building the house of Bible literacy in which the furnishings of doctrine and other worthy topics can take their rightful places. We owe our people more than assertions of what is biblical and what is not. We owe them the Bible, and the tools necessary to soberly and reverently "take up and read". The task requires resolve, but the reward is great. Will you join me? 

don't you know what causes that?

The Fam 2002

Today, a friend passed on to me a blog post entitled “Top 10 Ridiculous Responses Regarding My Third Pregnancy.” As a mother who has four children, all of the responses on the list were familiar to me. As a mother who had four children in four years, I could think of a few more that didn’t make this girl’s list.

She left off “Were you born in a barn?” and “You need some hobbies.” And another favorite, almost always asked in the grocery store: “Are they ALL yours?”

My kids are all teenagers now, so I remember these comments with a smile. They don’t offend me – I understand that most people don’t have a file folder for people with “larger families”, although a family of six is not extraordinarily large. It doesn’t bother me to be mentally filed under “Hillbilly”, “Catholic” or even “Mormon” – people are just doing their best to process reality. I remember flying to Cincinnati one Christmas with two lap children and two in car seats. A sweet young Mormon couple on the next row carried on a knowing conversation with us for most of the flight before realizing we were actually just Southern Baptists with no sense of moderation. We deplaned leaving them as baffled by our family planning as our Southern Baptist friends were.

Over the years I’ve developed some responses to these repeated awkward questions. For example:

“Don’t you know what causes that?” – “Clearly. We’re so good at it we should patent the process.”

“Are they ALL yours?” – “No, I just think WalMart is so fun that I go pick up extra toddlers to bring along with me.”

“Is your husband getting snipped?” – “Already has. It was a non-event, really – nothing a bag of frozen vegetables couldn’t mend. Can I serve you some more peas?”

The trickiest one to answer, in my case, is, “Did you mean to do that?” If I say, “Yes, who doesn’t want four kids in four years?” I’m basically insane. If I say “No”, I’m an idiot. The truth is, I’m not sure what my answer is. The question itself implies far more control over conception than even I can claim to have.

And that’s the real reason we should be careful about these kinds of questions. Yes, they’re funny, and yes, I’m a big fan of self-deprecating humor, but it’s not me that these questions can hurt. It’s my friends and family who know with great clarity that conception is a miracle because it is one they have not experienced. It’s the people I love who ache for fertility to be their scandal.

During the Four Years of Much Pregnancy, my dearest friend was infertile. She came to my baby showers and listened to the jokes. She came to my hospital bed four years in a row to hold the latest Wilkin. She cried tears of joy for me, but I know she carried her sorrow with every casserole she brought to my home. I would have.

So I suggest that we stop saying these things to the woman whose arms are full of children for the sake of the woman whose arms are not. Because the answer to “Don’t you know what causes that?” is not a what, but a Who. I don’t know why God gave me children effortlessly and withholds them from others who would make fantastic parents, but I know this: Fertility is not a curse, it is a gift. It is a scandalous miracle.

So the next time you see a mother with a herd of small progeny, just say “What a blessing!" And maybe offer to help her get those groceries to the car. Or offer to put her kids through college. Any or all of these responses would be just fine.

authentic worship, hands down

A few years ago I was in a worship service with a Tambourine Lady. No one else in the service had brought a tambourine, much less decided to play it during the singing. No one else had moved to an open space to find room to sway and to jingle. Like the lone apple in a bowl of oranges, Tambourine Lady took her place among us. I am thinking of her now.

I’m standing at the front of the room, just to the left of the podium I will shortly stand behind to speak, and my body language is completely wrong. It’s a fairly small room, so the fact that my hands are at my sides is particularly evident, even though everyone else is on their feet as well. From behind the keyboard you repeat your plea that we be free in our worship, that we let go and throw our hands in the air, let go of worry about what others might think. Come on, ladies, let’s raise every hand in this place to the glory of the Lord. Be free.

The music swells, the singing grows louder. My arms stay conspicuously at my sides.

It’s a beautiful song, a God-exalting, glory-laden chorus, suitable for the throne room itself. I am deeply moved.

No one will judge you here. Raise your hands to your Father! Every hand!

Oh, man. I try to focus my thoughts away from the possibility that eyes are watching me through that sea of upraised arms, wondering why their retreat speaker is so uptight. I half expect to glance up and see my hands, like two traitors, mutinously occupying the space above my head. But no, they seem to be still in their usual place. Think about the God of the song. Think about the God of the song. Don’t worry about it - just worship.

The chorus, one more time. Okay, sure, three more times. I hear a faint jingling sound in the back of my consciousness.

Sweet, earnest worship leader, I hope I haven't let you down. Your job, like mine, is hard: we ask people to step outside what is comfortable. I gather that you may have recently flung off the fetters of conservative worship, and that’s tremendous. I say that without irony. But there's something I need you to understand.

Authentic worship means to me exactly what it means to you: the freedom to worship as the Lord leads. I have traveled the length of the denominational spectrum. I have been instructed to kneel, shout, laugh, fall over, chant, throw my hands up, take off my shoes, sway with my neighbor, and dance like David danced. It was a long trip through myriad worship styles, and participation was not always optional. My hands are at my sides for the same reason yours are thrown in the air: because I am free - free from the expectations of any of my fellow worshippers, free to worship in whatever posture the Spirit leads.  The truth is, I do occasionally raise my hands, but never when told to by a worship leader or a lyric. Because of my history, nothing could be more inauthentic, nothing less free.

So for me, and I suspect for a few others, authentic worship looks a little different than it might for many – a little less demonstrative. Let’s just say you’re never going to sustain a tambourine-related injury standing next to me. It would grieve me to know that you felt dishonored by my failure to participate in the manner you encouraged.  But it would grieve me more to know I had traded authentic worship for the comfort of conformity.

Tambourine Lady understood that. And taught me that. I am her, in my own way.

You are dead right – we must be free in our worship. Sometimes freedom raises its hands, and sometimes it sways and jingles. And sometimes freedom stands quietly and trembles. Believe me, it is entirely possible to have your heart in your mouth and your hands at your sides.  What you see is not fear or hardness. It is worship unbound.

five lies about your body

As we head into the New Year and take inventory of what we would like to change, many women will place making changes to our bodies at the top of the list. How we view our bodies will determine whether our plans to change them are God-honoring or self-elevating. Do we see our bodies the way our Maker does?

With that in mind, here are five lies our culture tells us about how we should perceive our bodies – and five truths from Scripture to help us shift our perspective.

• Lie #1: Your body is decorative. It should be used to attract the attention of men and the envy of women. What matters most is how it looks.
• Truth: Your body is useful. It should be used to accomplish the good works that God ordained for you to do. What matters most is what it does.

• Lie #2: Your body’s appearance is flawed but fixable. You are not the right size, shape or color. But you can (and should) go to enormous effort and expense to change that.
• Truth: Your body’s appearance is designed by God. You are fearfully and wonderfully made, according to a plan. Because God is a God of infinite creativity, people come in many different sizes, shapes and colors.

• Lie #3: Your body is a source of power. It can and should be trained, toned and preserved from all signs of age. Its level of attractiveness or strength can and should be leveraged to give you dominance over and independence from others.
• Truth: Your body has a set of limits. It succumbs to hunger, fatigue, exposure, injury, illness and age. Its fragility and fleeting vigor should point you toward submission to and dependence on a strong and eternal God.

• Lie #4: Your body is yours. You are its owner. You may neglect it, obsess over it, indulge it, punish it, pamper it or alter it as you wish.
• Truth: Your body is not yours. You are its steward. Because you were bought with a price, all decisions about and behaviors toward your body must be run through the filter of, “Does this glorify God in my body?”

• Lie #5: Transforming the outside will fix the inside. By making changes to your body, you can change the condition of your heart. You can have more self-confidence, better self-esteem and greater happiness.
• Truth: Transforming the inside will make peace with the outside. A mind being progressively transformed by the gospel rejects the worship of self and the futile pursuit of happiness. By pursuing holiness, your attitude toward your body will change, as you learn to love it as a good gift from God.

It is true that our bodies bear the impact of the fall: disability, disfigurement, infertility, chronic illness, terminal illness and even advanced age make these temporary dwellings difficult to love. People who face challenges like these think of their bodies differently than people who don’t. They tend to enjoy a heightened ability to value wellness over attractiveness. They readily understand that a beautiful body is a body that simply functions as it should.

Has someone close to you known a great health challenge? Honor their suffering by adopting their perspective, whether you ever share their experience. Trade cultural lies for the truth. May 2014 be a year in which we steward well the gifts of our bodies to bring about the will of God wherever they carry us. May it be a year in which we see our bodies as God sees them, in which we serve Him with eager hands, swift feet, and a joyful countenance. What could be more beautiful than that?


related posts:
New Year, New Self-Control
To Your Daughter Speak the Truth

to your daughter, speak the truth

“Happy girls are the prettiest” – Audrey Hepburn

I grew up with a dad who told me I was beautiful - a lot - thereby defying the conventional wisdom that daughters who are told this will define their worth by their appearance. I don’t. That’s probably because he also told me I was smart and capable and fun to be around. I somehow believed him about those things, but not about the beautiful part. Not even a little bit.

I would roll my eyes as he’d say it, reaching out to hug me, thinking to myself, “He just thinks that because he’s my dad.” My subscription to Seventeen Magazine reminded me faithfully every month that I was not, in fact, beautiful at all. My hair was stick-straight (a debilitating handicap for 80’s hair). I had a bad complexion. I had the shoulder span of a linebacker in an era when giant shoulder pads were routinely added to women’s shirts, seemingly for the sole purpose of enhancing my freakishness. I was no curvier than the thirteen year old boys I desperately hoped would ask me to dance, even as I loomed over them with my gargantuan height. Clearly, my dad was delusional.

But he was the best kind of delusional. He was the kind of delusional every daughter needs. He saw something in me that the mirror didn’t, and he routinely and faithfully pronounced me beautiful regardless of all objective external measures.

Without a doubt, we should tell our daughters that they are strong and capable, that their minds are gifts to be utilized, that their imaginations are tools to be implemented, that their bodies are vehicles for accomplishing good. But I also contend that we should tell them they are beautiful. All the time.  Whether they buy it or not. Trust me on this:

When she tells you she’s fat, tell her she’s beautiful.

When she tells you she’s plain, tell her she’s beautiful.

When she tells you she’s too X or not Y enough, tell her she’s beautiful.

When she tells you no one will ever want to date her, tell her she’s beautiful.

When she says nothing at all, tell her she’s beautiful.

She won’t believe you, any more than we believed our own fathers and mothers. But she will hear it from someone who genuinely means it, with no ulterior motive. She will hear it from you first. And that matters.

Because you don’t want her to hear it from someone else first. If we leave the soil of our daughters’ self-worth unwatered by our unconditional admiration, we send them into a world happy to satisfy that parched ground with conditional praise. What if the first person who tells her she’s beautiful is a shady guy she meets in class? Let her blossom well-watered by your compliments, offered for no other reason than the sheer joy of knowing her.

Your daughter knows when you tell her “You’re beautiful” that what you mean is “You’re beautiful to me.” And though initially she may perceive this to be the most well-meaning lie ever told to her, in time she will grow to recognize it as the most basic truth she can ever hear you speak: No matter what anyone else sees when they look at you, I see you when I look at you, and I say that what I see is beautiful. The end.

I see you. I love you. I know you. You are beautiful. To me.

We become more beautiful in the knowing. Which of us has not met someone who we at first thought to be plain, but upon longer acquaintance we grew to find beautiful? Your daughter will perceive this truth as she sees how your belief in her beauty intertwines with your love for her person. Because you know her better than any other human, your opinion counts more than anyone else’s. Only her Heavenly Father knows her better than you do, and his fearful and wonderful verdict has already been spoken.  When earthly parents model the love of a Heavenly Father who “sees not as man sees”, we give our daughters permission to measure beauty differently than their peers: by focusing not merely on the outward appearance, but on the heart.

Tell your daughter she is beautiful. Tell her, not because she needs to know she’s beautiful, but because she needs to know she is beautiful to you. In our image-driven culture, she will already perceive her physical “flaws” to the point that the face value of your words will ring untrue. But she will learn to trust their deeper significance because of who speaks them. She will learn, God willing, that “face value” is fleeting and deceptive. When every billboard and magazine cover and pop-up is telling her she is not beautiful, the knowledge that you absolutely, irrationally, vehemently disagree may just be the thing that keeps her heart whole. Don’t let the shouting match be one-sided. Tell her she is beautiful. Because, by the only measures that matter, she is.