i believe evangelical christianity has created a lot of divided women.

women who are cut off from their desires.  who are pulling it together on the outside but crumbling on the inside.  who are constantly feeling like losers, always missing the good-christian-woman-wife-or-mother-mark.  who are afraid to dream. or take care of ourselves. or want something more because it can be perceived as selfish. who love God but aren’t sure God really loves us just-as-we-are because we’ve been bombarded with teaching about our depravity & eve-nature & how we need to be more like proverbs 31.

i know these are generalizations, but in my experience a lot of “good-christian-women”:

• rarely engage in conflict
• are terrible at saying “no” because it feels selfish
• know how to say the right things, do the right things, to keep the peace
• continually strive–and i do mean strive–to be a better wife, better mother, better christian
• live with a feeling that God is disappointed with us somehow
• feel a lot of shame for who we are and who we aren’t (but rarely say it out loud)
• doubt our leadership, feelings, gifts, dreams
• dwell on the things we should be doing differently or better 
• view anger as sin
• always seek permission 

any of these sound familiar?

subtly or directly, they are embedded into the fabric of many of our faith & life experiences.

six+ years ago, when i took a stand against unhealthy church politics, i put the nail in my good-christian-woman-coffin for good (i had been on my way for a while).  i am still shocked, really, at that turn of events but when i look back, it makes me smile.  i said what needed to be said (not that anyone cared but it sure helped me), i discovered passion for justice & leadership & equality that i didn’t know i had.  and i kept meeting more & more women who somehow found themselves on the outs of good-christian-woman-ness, too.

not everyone can relate.  some were never “good” in the first place and wonder what all the fuss is about (that kind of freedom is a gift).  others are just fine with way things are and don’t need anything different at the moment.

but there are an awful lot of us who know what i’m talking about here.

over time, we have been sold a bill of goods on what it means to be a christian woman.  we’ve been domesticated, tamed, caged, and limited.  we haven’t been properly valued or empowered or nurtured.  we have been taught codependence and given the company kool-aid to drink.

but it’s changing.  slowly, surely.

thankfully more and more women are joining the ranks of  what i call “ex-good-christian-women.”  it’s lonely at first but in the end, so freeing.  many of the women in my life are ex’s. some played the good game for a long time (or the younger ones figured it out more quickly, yeah!) and gained the courage to step out of the box. others did something the system didn’t like and found themselves on the outs.  all my “xgcw’s” (that’s my little acronym) give me hope & courage & help me never look back, except to come alongside others who are trying to find their way toward greater freedom, too.

here are some characteristics of those of us with the “ex” added.  “ex-good-christian-women”:

• are learning to show up in relationship instead of hiding
• engage in conflict instead of avoid it
• say “no” with less-and-less guilt and say “yes” more freely, more honestly
• tell the truth
• respect anger
• are honest about shame
• live in the present 
• are beginning to believe we are “enough”–here, now
• open ourselves up to dreams & passions & living out what God is stirring up in us
• lead & love & live in all kinds of new ways, with or without permission
• are discovering that God is much bigger than we were ever taught & loves us more than we ever knew

Jesus wasn’t a “good christian” in the ways it has come to be defined.  he wasn’t well-behaved.  he didn’t play by the system’s rules. he didn’t pretend to be nice. he didn’t play it safe or try to conform.

he called us to God’s wild & brave & beautiful ways of Love, not to being “good.”

* * * * *

ps:  i know many men have been boxed, too, by false ideas of what it means to be a christian man.  i have some ideas of what they might be, but i obviously can’t speak into it.   i’d love if if some of you guys can share what your “good-christian-men” and “ex-good-christian-men” lists might have on them.  the circumstances may be different, but we share the collateral damage.

also, while i’m on this thought i found a couple of 5 year old posts that i wrote about ex-good-christian-women called do you identify? and disapproval.   they’re old & i’d probably write them differently today, but they kind of sum it up.  if you want to read even more, i’ve got a whole blog category called “ex good christian women”.

check out a few really good posts i recently read related to this:

• pam hogeweide – unladylike manifesto
• jo hilder - in defense of being an unladylike christian woman
• michelle krabill – the closest friends i’ve never met and the unladylike manifesto
• sophia saved by grace – excuse me, gentleman
• harriet congdon – on the eve of evangelical women

now, i’m off to the UK for a fun graduation trip with my daughter for a week.  very excited & thankful for an awesome husband who works for the airlines & rocks as a teammate and will keep everything moving around here while we are gone.  happy first week of summer!

* * * * *

“few of us ever live in the present. we are forever anticipating what is to come or remembering what has gone.”

- louis l’amour

this past season i have been trying to practice a simple spiritual discipline:  celebrating what is instead of focusing on what isn’t.  in all kinds of ways, it’s been helpful.  at the refuge, during our first few years, the only thing i seemed to center on was who wasn’t there, what wasn’t the way-i-thought-it-should-be, the things we lacked.  at home, it was the projects that weren’t done, the things i hadn’t taught my kids yet, the things-that-always-fell-short.  in my personal life it was the same way–always centering on all the things that weren’t instead of honoring the good that was.

this past saturday night at the refuge my friends craig & jenny facilitated a beautiful exercise on mindfulness & the art of noticing.  using contemplative photography, we set out to see things with new eyes.  i will post the refuge blog link of everyone’s work once they have the slideshow put together, but let me just say–it was beautiful!  amazing, the loveliness that we “saw” when we opened our eyes to it.

i was thinking afterward how the idea of focusing on what is instead of what isn’t has not been nurtured in my faith experience over the years. some might think it’s a stretch, but i believe it goes back to the core theology of depravity vs. being created in the image of God.  this distinction is important; when the focus is on what isn’t (all the ways we fall short and suck) instead of celebrating what is (image bearers, with all of God’s glory there to be uncovered), it creates an insecurity that robs many of us of life now.

we end up only focusing on what we aren’t instead of honoring what we are.

we end up spending all of our energy on how-we-fall-short instead of experiencing being fully loved by God, here, now, in spite of our character defects.

it creates an insidious and invisible bar-of-expectation that steals joy and peace in our daily lives.

we develop in-grown eyeballs where we are always failing personally, spiritually, practically.

“noticing what is” doesn’t mean we don’t care about transformation or change or that we are settling for less. it doesn’t mean we don’t desperately need God’s help & Spirit-at-work-in-our-lives to constantly transform us. it doesn’t mean we don’t want things to be different in our lives, our relationships. as someone dedicated to recovery & healing, there’s no question that there will always be an awful lot of inner-work to be done!

but i think we often miss a lot of what’s happening in the moment because we are so focused on the past or thinking we need to get to the future faster.

noticing what is, not what isn’t is noticing the good in today because today is all we have.  it is celebrating God’s work in our lives so far instead of being so mad about all the things that aren’t there yet.  it is having eyes to see beauty in the midst of the ugly–our own beauty & beauty in other human beings, too.   it’s practicing gratitude instead of disdain for our present circumstances.

noticing what is, not what isn’t is not all about our inner journey, either. it’s apparent in many other ways, too–in our ministries, our vocations, our relationships, our families, our present circumstances.  in each of these areas it’s easy for me to think of all the things that aren’t instead honoring the things that are.

something very interesting happened to me during the exercise on saturday night. on my walk to the place of quiet, i didn’t see much. i was focused on finding a spot, i was focused on getting where i needed to be.  if anything, i thought the walk was pretty ugly.

as a space opened up for quiet & contemplation, it was wild, really, the things i began to see.  God’s beauty poking up out of the hard ugly ground.  the crisp air & the blue sky.  the flowers in the midst of weeds.  rusty railroad spikes next to lovely colored broken glass.

on my walk back, i was much more aware.  the colors were more vivid, the beauty more apparent.

i began to have new eyes to see.

it was very simple, very profound.  a lesson i hope lingers.

God, it’s so easy to focus all of our energy on what isn’t.  help us cultivate eyes to see what is and celebrate it as a gift.

ps: this pic is one that i took on saturday night during the exercise. lots of pretty broken glass near the railroad tracks that i’ve never seen before!

but over time many of us have gone overboard.

some of us have bailed out, some of us were thrown over the deck.  once in the water, some of us have been clinging for dear life to any kind of buoy, floating around hoping we’ll see land soon.

for me, i have not been holding onto a life preserver all on my own.  instead, starting 6 years ago, i have been out in a raggedly old dinghy rowing toward something new, bailing out water along the way.  it’s been a choppy ride. our boat is full of holes.  we don’t have the rations we had hoped for.  the waves keep coming up over the sides and slosh us around.  but i’m not alone in it; i have some really awesome friends in this boat with me who are rowing & bailing just as hard.

sometimes it is rough out here, all this bobbing around.

the big ships carry on without giving us the time or the day.  beautiful sailboats pass us by all the time (to me, these are new church or ministry startups who are fully funded by someone with deep pockets and have lots of people with margin).  they give us a glance and carry on, sure that if we were more capable people we’d have a much better boat.

but i’m more clear than ever that this holey beaten-up dinghy is stronger than it looks.

we may be taking on water, but we’re learning how to work together.

we may not have the food we wish we were eating, but there’s always enough to go around.

we may not get relief from the sun like we long for, but somehow a cloud always comes & we are never harmed.

we may not have all of the gear we need, but we sure do have plenty of the one thing that’s free–love.

it’s oddly freeing out here in the wild beautiful ocean with my wild beautiful friends.

i think new forms of church will look a lot more like holey dinghies than cruise ships or pretty sail boats.

they will be rag-tag groups of misfits thrown overboard & dreamers who-couldn’t-stand-being-a-tourist-on-the-big-ship-anymore & pioneers who know there’s something better out there beyond the horizon.

the cruise ships & sail boats that see us out here wonder why we don’t just hop on and join their fun again.  it seems like such a relief from the vulnerabilities and difficulties of the open sea. they’re right. it would be a relief. it’s a lot more comfortable up there and not much is required except for hanging out & enjoying the ride.

but once you’re out here in the great expanse, nothing else will satisfy.

several years ago, i wrote a post called why sometimes i want to throw in the towel.  it was about how tiring life in the dinghy can be when the big ships and sail boats are cruising by while our needs far outweigh our resources and we’re trying to care for a bunch of hurting people, many of their castaways.  after reading that post, one of my dearest friends sent me a message that said, “i’m here to row.”  he hopped in the dinghy and started rowing.  right around that time, a few other amazing companions did, too.  they joined our little fledgling boat & helped carry the load.

in all kinds of ways, they have kept us afloat.

here’s my hope in the years to come in all of the shifts we’re seeing in “church”:  that more and more people who-long-for-something-different will bravely jump ship from comfy cruise ships & pretty sail boats and land in some kind of holey dinghy, either one that they inflate or one that’s already out here.  

that more and more start rowing in little weird wild & crazy missional ministries and pockets of love, whatever shape or form they take.

that more and more will come alongside others-dedicated-to-love & mercy & justice that desperately need help to sustain.

that more and more of those who feel so alone, clinging to a little life preserver by themselves, will somehow find community & hope in all kinds of these rag-tag rafts.

and that more and more of our dingheys will tie up together for some respite & sharing of supplies and to laugh & learn from each other.

if right now you can’t hop in and row, that’s so okay, too. i know it’s not for everyone.  but maybe just help us patch up some of our holes sometimes, or bring us food & water, or help bail water for a while.

my guess is that there are an awful lot of holey dinghies that could sure use a little help, a little love.

– pam hogeweide, at the unladylike: resisting the injustice of inequality in the church event at the refuge this past friday night.

* * * * *

in an effort to not be a divisive woman, i became a divided woman.

oh these words resonate.  so many of us (men and women) have struggled in the church with not wanting to be divisive.  there’s been a subtle and sometimes very direct message that any kind of conflict or dissonance equals being divisive and a challenge to unity.

really, it’s usually not about divisiveness; it’s about control. unhealthy systems will not tolerate any kind of pushback or challenge or questions.   healthy systems will.

i believe one of the most important parts of rebuilding after deconstructing is to become more integrated, less divided–in our faith, in our souls, in the way we interact with the world. learning to accept and work with conflict is part of that.

pushing parts of us down to stay part of the systems we are in is harmful.

hiding because our real selves, our real questions, will not be tolerated damages our soul.

splitting off and pretending will drain us of hope over time.

not everyone feels this way; plenty of men & women feel undivided in church. it’s working fine (this post is not for you!). there are a whole bunch of others who know what i’m talking about.   who feel that weird disconnect of desire & reality.  who have been settling for crumbs for a long time. who long to live out the ways of Jesus more freely but don’t see how the church they are in supports that.  who are called to lead but can’t.  who have a lot of questions & doubts but are afraid to voice them.

who feel divided.

i have been called divisive by people who think that those who publicly challenge the church are sinning.  any form of anger or discontent or challenge is perceived as negative.  in my good-girl-days, i used to try to smooth it over and make nice, but what i keep discovering over the years is that well-behaved women (and men) won’t change the church.

if we keep trying, out of fear, to not be perceived as divisive, over time we will become more & more divided.

our passions & gifts will continue to be squelched.  we will continue to give time & money to systems that don’t really care about us.   we will live with a subtle and sometimes overt shame that who we are is either too much or not enough.

we will never feel free.

because we will never be free.

we can’t be free in a place that tells us we are less than because of our gender.  we can’t be free in a place that won’t tolerate our questions or doubts or pain or struggles.  we can’t be free in a place that only loves us when we are towing the line and following the rules.  we can’t be free in an environment that won’t engage in healthy conflict.  we can’t be free when we are being controlled.

the thing that makes me happy right now is that many people i know are finding freedom and becoming less divided.  we’re breaking free.  we’re finding our way.  we’re loosening shame’s grip.  we’re stepping into who God made us to be.

it’s not an easy task when there’s a nagging voice in our heads that says “if i just did x or y maybe it will work…why can’t i let it go?….why can’t i just be content with what i have?…they’re fine why can’t i be?”

even though we are supposed to offer grace and accept that things will never be exactly the way we want them, when it comes to issues of oppression & unhealthy systems of power, we need to listen more to our gut.  we need to tune into our hearts and be more honest about what we are feeling.  we need to open our eyes to reality.  we need to ask God to show us the way to greater and greater freedom and give us courage to start walking toward becoming more whole, less divided.

i was struck by pam’s powerful words friday night & the subtle message that rumbles underneath so much of our hope–if we are afraid to be perceived as divisive, we will remain divided.

i was also reminded how Jesus was perceived.  um, pretty sure divisive was the word. any pushing on the status quo will be perceived as a threat.   he got killed for it.  i’m pretty sure we won’t get killed, but we may lose our churches & some relationships & reputations & a lot of things we once held dear.  but in the end i believe we will find life, real life–more abundantly.  as i become more & more integrated and less & less divided, i feel more alive than i’ve ever felt before.  i still have the nagging voice in my head sometimes, but it’s fading, losing it’s power over me.

that’s my hope for all of us, women & men alike.  that we’d become less divided, more whole.  less controlled, more free.  less confined, more empowered. less stuck, more hopeful.  less worried-about-what-others-think, more focused-on-what-God-is-stirring-up-in-us-in-deep-places-of-our-hearts.

God, help us let go of fear of being perceived as divisive and give us courage to move toward becoming less divided.

it’s all about power.

patriarchy in the church, in the world, isn’t just about male-centered leadership in our church system. it’s about who’s got the power because in our human-brains-who-are-bent-on-making-it-all-make-sense, it must be clear.

and making it clear means that we have to make it finite.

we think of it like a limited resource.

we think of it as being a certain size.

we think of it like a pie, with only so many pieces to slice up.

we think that when someone gets more power, that means someone else has to get less.

this is why when we think of men and women leading alongside each other, or any other underrepresented group stepping into greater leadership in some way, shape, or form, we default to needing to step aside to make room for others.  we default to leaving the table so that others can sit at it.  we default to silencing our voices so that others can use theirs.

some of that is true–when moving toward greater equality those with power will have to make some shifts to allow others to step into theirs.  but if we’re not careful, we will end up in the same place we were before, where power shifts to a new group of people and the others are silenced and feel resentment and hurt. 

in the kingdom of God, there’s another possibility.

power is not like pie at all. 

instead, it’s more like loaves & fishes.

there’s this wild and beautiful and miraculous thing that can happen when we share it together.  it multiplies.   and multiplies.

on our little wacky refuge team, i have seen this in action.  the more we are all more fully present, alive, engaged in who we are–male, female, in all our strengths in all our weaknesses–the more free we are, the more alive we are, the more the kingdom of God is reflected in community together. it’s been hard over the years because of a misperception of power as pie.  if we live with the idea that there are only so many slices, then someone’s going to go hungry.

it doesn’t have to be that way.    we need to re-think power.  and respect that power diffusion doesn’t limit power but increases it.

the ways of God are not the ways of this world.  that’s much of our problem.  we have limited God.  and we’ve shortchanged each other.  our default to only living under or over another instead of alongside  has jacked with our hope.  we have adopted models of leadership in our churches that don’t require faith or relationship.  we have adopted models of living together in community that are based on fear .  we have adopted a spirit of scarcity instead of abundance.

and our ways have caused us to become controlling.

underneath control is fear.

systems of patriarchy are built on deeply grooved systems of fear and a belief that power is like pie, with only so much to go around.

Jesus came to break down these systems of fear & control & self-protection and liberate us all.

i completely understand that the world needs organizations where power must be limited, defined, and protected. that’s how it goes when there is work to be done and money to be made.

but the church should be different. 

it should not reflect the power structures of the world.  it should not be built on a spirit of fear and control but on a spirit of love and relationship and equality. 

yes, we come with a bunch of different abilities and disabilities, and we are not all the same. it’s easy for us to say “it’s not possible”, that power issues are too complex and we’re in too deep to ever change it.  but i’m one of those nutty people who is crazy enough to believe it’s possible.

i am seeing what can happen when we stop seeing power as pie and start trusting God to multiply what we’ve got and feed us all. when we stop seeing only so many seats at the table and keep adding in leaves. when we create spaces for men & women, black & white, gay & straight, rich & poor, to live alongside each other with equal value. when we empower each other in any way we can, respecting that we can’t expect everyone to be “fully alive” at the same time but what we can do is fan whatever life we can into flame.

yeah, in the world, power is like pie.

but in the kingdom of God, it’s much more like loaves and fishes, where all may eat and no one has to go hungry.

* * * * *

“Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken” – Oscar Wilde

I first discovered what a “blog” was in 2006, when we planted The Refuge, the wild little faith community I am part of.  Honestly, I had never heard the word before; I had been immersed in a hectic ministry role that was very insulated from the wider church conversation and I just wasn’t online.  This transition from mega-church to small-church-plant was a messy one for me.  I was in a lot of pain from my experience, so I reached out online after stumbling across some blogs while searching for church website ideas.  I felt an instant and immediate sense of relief when I discovered I wasn’t crazy, and I wasn’t alone in some of my feelings.  I found others with similar stories & similar church dreams.

The men and women I read were honest, bold, raw, and pure.

They weren’t selling anything, trying to push their agenda, or attempting to make-people-come-over-to-their-way-of-thinking.

Rather, they just told their stories.  Shared their experiences. Responded to other people’s comments with simple kindness and respect. And above all, they remained honest about what they were wrestling with and learning along the way.

Reading their blogs gave me hope.

They inspired me.

They pointed me toward God (even when they were wrestling with God).

They challenged me to think.

January 1, 2008, I started my own blog and dedicated myself to two simple commitments:

1. Write as honestly and purely as I could without editing or trying to worry about what other people might think.

2. Write once a week for one year.

It’s been a wild ride, and I have learned so much through the process over the past 4 years.

Out of everything, I think blogging has helped me learn to become more comfortable in my own skin, with my own voice, with who I am.

I think that is a very holy and sacred experience on our spiritual journey–learning to find safety and security in who we really are.  

Not who someone else is.

Not who we think we should be.

But in who we are.

I am someone who has always struggled with the message that I wasn’t enough somehow–not spiritual enough, not quiet enough, not domestic enough, not skinny enough, not organized enough, not-whatever-enough.

Blogging definitely intersected with this message, initially making it even worse.

In the first few years of my blog, I had so much internal anxiety about not being good enough, funny enough, theological enough, wise enough, or concise enough.   Whatever “enough” it was, I wasn’t.

But something began to shift in the past several years as I continued to find my voice and become more comfortable in my own skin out here.

I began to realize that the world doesn’t need another _________ or __________ or __________ (Insert name of any bloggers you are jealous of, and my guess is they are wrestling with similar feelings and go a little psycho about the same insecurities).

What’s missing is me.

Not because without me the world would stop spinning or the blogosphere would come to a screeching halt.

But because everyone else is taken.  

I think God wants us to learn how to become comfortable in our own skin, to be who-we-are, and not try to become someone else.

Blogging is a great place to practice this.

Making peace with who-we-are requires the ongoing-work-of-the-Holy-Spirit.  I doubt and question it all of the time.  I obsess before I hit “publish” and freak out about not being more like ______ or _______ (insert name of other blogger also obsessing about the same thing).

I need God’s help to remind me:  “Um, Kathy, just so you know, in the big scheme of things, it’s just a blog post.  And one other thing:  it’s a great place to practice just being you–with all your strengths & all your weaknesses.  Just you.”

And then I hit “publish” and take a deep breath and am reminded yet again, this is what transformation looks and feels like.

This is how we get more comfortable in our own skin.    This is how we learn to offer ourselves grace.  This is how we become “us” and not someone else.

Yikes, it’s hard to learn!   But blogging is a great spiritual practice that can help integrate this important truth into deep places in our hearts.

Yeah, my spiritual guidance for all us bloggers is this:  Be ourselves.  Everyone else is taken.

“why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?” luke 6:41

“do to others as you would have them do to you.” luke 6:31

* * * * *

i have been reflecting a lot about these words from Jesus this week in light of our conversation about equality.

i think they are possibly the least-applied-passages-that-could-actually-change-the-church in the Bible.

honestly, it’s a little comical, how much time and energy has been spent picking apart passages about homosexuality, of which there are few, and women in leadership in church, of which they are even fewer.  book after book and blog after blog have been written about those ones, that’s for sure.

i wonder how come we prefer those to Jesus’ powerful words in the sermon on the mount? how we’d much rather talk about who’s right & who’s wrong than live out the beatitudes?  how we’d much rather spend time & energy defending what’s a sin and what’s not a sin than feeding the hungry or loving the lonely?

umm, i’m pretty sure of that answer (and i’m not certain of much):  it’s a helluva lot easier.

laying down stones, worrying about our own logs & treating others how we long to be treated is some seriously heavy lifting.  one of the things i love the most about the 12 steps & recovery is that people are focused on our own stuff, not someone else’s.  one of the most important rules of the process is to stick with our own struggles, our own hopes, our own work and do what we can to stay on our side of the street as best we can.

it’s really quite beautiful.  and freeing.

and really hard to do in human skin that loves to control.

control is a way to protect ourselves, to distract ourselves from the bigger work of looking at our own painful patterns that keep robbing us of life, of love.

but offering ourselves in humility is what Jesus told us we needed to do–to worry about our own logs instead of anyone else’s.  to worry about the inside of our cups not the outside.  to offer mercy instead of sacrifices to satisfy the law.  to love our neighbor instead of judge our neighbor.

my theory is we’d much rather talk theology and ministry theory than be spiritually transformed ourselves.    it’s a great distraction.

spiritual and personal transformation is painful.  loving our neighbor is easier said than done.  loving God & ourselves, sometimes even harder.  reading blogs & defending positions is a piece of cake.  looking at the logs in our own eyes–pride & control & ego & self-protection & a whole-bunch-of-other-character-defects–isn’t nearly as fun as defending a couple of Bible verses to the bitter end.

i also wonder for all who love using the Bible in every conversation, how come not much time is spent on passages that challenge us on greed?  or power and control?  or comfort and pride?   or sacrifical love?  or humility?

those ones aren’t nearly as fun to rattle on about because they are seriously convicting in our own lives, not just the lives of others.

i get the irony here of me being a hypocrite, of pointing the finger, of throwing stones in a blog post but that’s about not doing that.   and i guess in this moment i would say “yep, i often am”; but i’m being convicted, too.

i can’t help but think that the world is crying out for hope while we’re talking about theology.

people are starving while we’re feeding on blog debates.

women & children are being violated while we’re haggling over whether a woman should be called “director” or “pastor.”

refrigerators are empty & electricity is getting turned off for people while we’re giving money to pay for flat screen TV’s.

if we layed down our stones and worried about the sin in our own lives, i have a feeling we’d be having radically different conversations out here.

if we tended to the forest in our own eye and didn’t give the speck in our brother’s another glance, i have a feeling we’d be plenty busy.

i think Jesus told us these important words for a reason.  he knew we’d much rather throw stones & worry about others’ specks than be radically transformed.

the church has so much it can learn from the 12 steps and the incredible wisdom of the beatitudes.  they embody an attitude of humility & mercy & meekness & purity of heart instead of an attitude of pride & judgment & control & division & finger pointing.

they help us lay down our stones.
they help us focus on our own logs.
they help us let go of needing to be in control or be “right.”
they help us be set free.

free to follow Jesus instead of defend Jesus.
free to learn instead of have all the answers.
free to listen instead of talk.
free to love instead of hate.

God, help us lay down our stones & worry about our own big ol’ logs so we–your body here on earth–can be wonderfully transformed.

“13 – therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselveswith compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. 14 – bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. forgive as the Lord forgave you.  15 - and over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”

in the wild and crazy conversation last week about equality, the verse 15 song came to mind–“over all these virtues put on love, which binds them together in perfect unity.”

my friend & copastor at the refuge, karl wheeler (who just started a new blog–check it out because it’s going to rock, details below), often says that we mistake unity for uniformity.  this is so true!  we think that when we are all on the same page, we have unity. but that not true unity; instead, it’s homogeneity that was never the idea. the kingdom of God is about holding our differences in love.

real unity is honoring our differences and being bound together by love.  

it’s the virtue that binds us all together.

one of the things i most deeply respect about life in our little wild refuge community is that we do not agree on everything.  we don’t have a statement of faith that automatically discerns who believes what (you can read what we do have written down; it’s one of my most favorite things we’ve ever written) and weeds people out.  we don’t espouse a “here’s what we are sure God says about this or that” or a membership class that people need to sign in on before they can be part.   when it comes to some of these tough issues of our faith, we are all over the map, with far left & far right and everything in between all tangled up together.

it’s honestly one of the prettiest things i’ve ever seen.

rich & poor alongside, even though life is so different from each other.  educated & uneducated alongside, because people are people no matter how much schoolin’ we’ve had.  liberal & conservative alongside, because love supersedes political viewpoints.  gay & straight alongside, even with different views theologically.   married & single alongside, because we need each other desperately.  men & women alongside, because friendship is a way to practice & learn the ways of love.

we don’t see each other through any of those labels.  we see each other as human beings, created in God’s image, all with the most important thing in common–a desire to love & be loved.   

when it comes to last week’s conversation, i want to highlight an important point about our life together.  our gay friends aren’t here making sure everyone agrees with them & our straight friends with a more scriptural conservative bent aren’t trying to prove anything. the same is true about any of our other differences.  the reason this works is because love is the thread that binds us all together.  as a leader in this community, that’s what we work our asses off to try to cultivate: a culture of safety (not of comfort but of real safety in a loving, challenging christian community).

and in a true culture of safety, we can disagree.

in fact, disagreeing is good.  when we don’t allow room for seeing things differently then we are in danger of creating more pockets of conformity and not living humbly in the tension of being uncomfortable.  our discomfort & differences force us to rely on God’s spirit to help us let go & trust & learn & wait and love more freely.

the world doesn’t need more pockets of conformity.  there are plenty of those to go around.

what we need are more brave expressions of little pockets of love & freedom, where Christ’s restoration of human dignity and value is at the center despite our differences. where humility is practiced in a very active way. where submission, one to another and not just one-way-that-works-for-those-with-the-most-power, is embedded into the fabric of life together.

but even though i think the refuge is awfully pretty (it’s ugly to the un-Jesus-trained eye, though, i promise), it is also a very tricky space to hold.

some have left over time, frustrated that we hold the tension between differing views on the Bible & theology.  they want us to draw lines in the sand and make things clearer.  some get annoyed at having to make friends with people who aren’t like them.  others really want better music & teaching & comfier chairs & something a little more predictable.

we refuse.

because we think there’s much more to learn about the ways of Love through our differences and discomfort than through our we-all-think-and-believe-the-same-thing and church-is-about-being-comfortable default.

my hope for the movement in the body of Christ and community cultivation is not that we sway everyone over to a new side on any of these issues and then all camp out together.   that would be way too easy (and is what i fear these hot topics will tempt people to do).  my hope is that we find a way to be together in our differences.  to create a culture of true safety that bravely lets go of telling-others-what-to-believe-with-utter-certainty-on-one-biblical-interpretation and instead wrestling with these hard realities of life together.  to see God’s image in each other and have that be enough to keep us united even when we might see the scriptures or life or a whole host of things different from each other.

love’s the thread that binds us all together in perfect unity.

it’s stronger than we think.

* * * * *

ps: karl’s blog is called church dreamer.  check out the about page & his first blog post, Jesus hates flatscreens.  oh yeah, it’s going to be fun.

- martin luther king, jr.

most of you know i’m a nut case for equality.  you hear me talking a lot about gender equality but that’s just because it’s a critical starting place.  when half of the population of the world is thought of as “less than”, we’re in serious trouble.  in a church that is supposed to be the free-est, most liberating place in town, we’re in even deeper trouble.  christians should be leading the way on equality in absolutely every area, yet we all know that on the whole, we are lagging behind, stuck in white privilege & imbalanced power & segregation and all kinds of things that are not reflective of the kingdom of God Jesus called us to create.

equality isn’t just about gender. it crosses into race, sexual orientation, socioeconomics, and any other ways we are divided that strip people’s dignity.

it’s not a side issue or a pet project  equality is a core issue of an active faith and one that as Christ-followers we are called to participate in creating.  here, now.

the fight for equal rights has never been a simple one.  all over the world, there are wars & battles & movements calling for change.  people are sacrificing all kinds of things on behalf of change, even their lives.   i believe passionately that we re called to be dignity restorers and champions of equality in every way, shape and form.  toni morrison says “the function of our freedom is to free someone else.”

i am supposed to use any freedom i have to help free my brothers & sisters who aren’t free yet.

yeah, unless we’re all free, none of us are free.

this week was a historic week in our country in the movement toward marriage equality.  i always say it’s easy to be against equal rights when we have the ones we want. i love that our president stepped out in a big and bold way to advocate for change that’s been a long-time-coming in this country.

it was brave.

i hope it calls all of us to be brave, too.

the reason it’s so risky to stand on behalf of change in a public way is because we’re scared.  we’re scared of what other people might think.  we are scared we’ll lose our jobs.  we are scared we’ll lose our ministries.  we are scared we’ll lose others approval.  we are scared we’ll be bullied alongside the outcast.

and the truth is that we might.

but it’s worth it.

because unless we’re all free, none of us are free.

galatians 5:13-15 says: “for you have been called to live in freedom, my brothers and sisters. but don’t use your freedom to satisfy your sinful nature. instead, use your freedom to serve one another in love. for the whole law can be summed up in this one command: “love your neighbor as yourself.” but if you are always biting and devouring one another, watch out! beware of destroying one another.”

i am so tired of all the destruction, all the ways christians have used the Bible & power & control to separate, divide, and strip others’ dignity.

but i firmly believe the solution is not in looking at how jacked up the system is and spending energy there.  it’s fun to rant & rave about it, but the truth is that ranting and raving won’t change anything.

what will change things is when we begin to vote with our feet (and in ballot boxes) and refuse to be part of churches & systems & groups that oppress.  period.  they aren’t going to get our money or our time or absolutely-anything-anymore and i don’t care how good their music, teaching, or kids program is.

when we risk our reputations and speak out for equality and freedom.

when we actively participate in setting others free.  that means creating little pockets of love & freedom where equality is practiced & dignity is restored.

our freedom is all tangled up together.  our dignity is all tangled up together.  our hope is all tangled up together.

Jesus shows us what love looks like–laying down our life for our friends.  this means we will pay a cost on behalf of love.  i am reminded of what cornell west says: “justice is what love looks like in public”

it’s time for change.  so many are starting to rise up from below.  there’s a holy stirring.  a hunger and thirst for justice and righteousness.  we are done sitting passively in our fear & complacency while our brothers & sisters are marginalized, oppressed, and stripped of their dignity.

the cost to us will be great.

we’ll lose our reputations, jobs, respect, friends, appearances of theological credibility, and a whole-bunch-of-other-things-that-are-worth-losing-on-behalf-of-doing-what’s-right.

it’s the least we can do.

so that’s why i’m writing this today.  to say strongly and clearly that i stand on behalf of my brothers & sisters and their fight for freedom.

because unless we’re all free, none of us are.

* * * * *

Years ago, if you looked up the definition of “Christian Good Girl”, I swear my picture would be right next to it. I was so good at being good! I knew how to keep the peace. I knew how to give people what they want. I know how to put my needs last. I knew how to say all the right things at the right time to sound really spiritual. I knew how to be nice.

Although I was not raised in a Christian home, when I turned my life over to Christ and joined his team, I found that all of the people-pleasing, peace-making, good-girl skills I had learned as a child of an alcoholic raised in chaos worked perfectly in the spiritual realm as well.

I earned all kinds of praise in the churches I was in for my good-girl-ness. Kathy’s so nice. Kathy’s such a team player. Kathy’s so easy to get along with.

None of these things were hard for me to do. They were like reflexes, a natural and immediate instinct to assess the situation, and then adjust to keep the peace and maintain whatever status quo needed to be maintained.

Over the years, though, as I started to do some personal healing work and begin to look at the unhealthy patterns in my life, something profound began to shift. I started to tell the truth about my own story. I started to not worry so much about what people thought. I started to advocate for others who couldn’t use their voices yet. I started to disagree. I started to use my voice and stir the pot about change in the church.

I started to worry more about pleasing God than pleasing man.

And guess what happened? Leaders didn’t like it. They liked me a lot better when I was following the rules, playing the good-girl game. A weird and subversive shift occurred when I started showing up more honestly, more passionately as a leader. The best words I can use to describe it are: “painful silence.”

In my situation, the painful silence lead to me losing a pastoral ministry job that I loved. The reality was that I was just not “good” enough, submissive enough, to be part of that system anymore. Honestly, if I could have switched back to the Good-Girl fast enough, I might have been able to save my job. Temporarily.

But I was too far gone. My soul and passion had started to come alive and I couldn’t turn back.

As difficult as that season was for me personally, professionally, and spiritually, I am so grateful for it because I learned the most important lesson of my life as a leader:

Well-behaved women won’t change the church.

We just won’t.

Well-behaved women will keep the wheels spinning on systems that keep working, keep growing, keep moving. We will do good and honorable work that matters and helps people and makes a difference in their communities.

But we won’t change the church.

Some people think the church doesn’t need changing; they’re fine with the way things are because it works for them. But I think there a lot more of us out here than even we ourselves know–passionate women who believe the body of Christ needs much more than a face-lift to become all it’s meant to be.

Yeah, well-behaved women will not change the church.

Instead, change in the church will come from not-so-well-behaved women who are willing to risk their pride, reputations, and “being liked” to stand for what God is stirring up in their hearts.

Change in the church will come when women who are called to lead, lead, even when others don’t think they can or should.

Change in the church will come when women refuse to squelch their gifts and begin to unleash them without asking for permission first.

Change in the church will come when women passionately follow Jesus, not systems-made-in-his-name-that-do-not-reflect-his-image.

Change in the church will come when women bravely use their voices, power, and any influence they have to inspire others to be brave, too.

I admit, it’s still sometimes hard for me to not be the good-girl. I miss the safety. I miss the praise. I miss the security, even if it was false. Some days I wish I could make nice like I used to because it was so much easier then.

But the Kingdom of God was never about easy. It was never about comfort. It was never about maintaining the status-quo. It was never about playing nice.

The Kingdom of God Jesus called us to participate in creating–here, now–isn’t well-behaved.

That’s reason enough for us not to be, either.