More on women's ministries:

The other day, I e-mailed our church office manager (who is also the preacher's wife) and asked about the whole women's ministries thing. Today I got an e-mail from her saying that she and a group of women had been wondering some of the same things had decided to organize a women's ministry and would I like to help.

God really does have a sense of humor.

Women's Ministries Ideas:

I'm doing what former English majors do best: research.

There are a ton of pages online concerning women's ministries -- unfortunately, nearly all of them try to sell me on Beth Moore video classes. I admit it's a better fare than women's classes tend to get, but it's still not good. I think we can do better. Much better.

There were some useful things out there, however. One church in particular listed some of the ministries it offers specifically for women which, if modified, could apply to my home church. The first is something they call "Heart-to-heart." It's a once/month evening for women. Our church has home groups that meet on the first Sunday evening of every month. Maybe a modified version of this -- homegroups for women in similar life stages and special groups for adolescent girls with an older mentor(s)/facilitator(s) -- that met on the third Sunday evening of each month or another convenient night.

I think it'd also be a neat idea to match up younger women with older female mentors who are already in the direction the younger women are headed: i.e. mothers/wives mentoring those who know that's their calling/gift/interest/whatever, college age women mentoring teens, older professionals mentoring younger, etc. Just similar intergenerational matching -- for encouragement and mutual learning. Also to develop friendships among the generations. Could also work for accountability.

They also have a women's retreat, which would be a nice way to unite the various groups set up by other aspects of the ministry. Even though a large focus of the ministry may be a mentoring model, it'd be a great thing for all the women to get together at least once a year (fall? spring?) and have a day or two to mingle -- and experience relevant speakers and topics. Other "group specific" retreats could be organized, too.

Bible studies that aren't Beth Moore, Kay Arthur or any of the others I've run into so far. Prayer groups.

Outreach. If women knew there were places for them in our churches, women would respond. Meeting needs opens doors. Women's shelters, high schools, etc. Volunteering.

Just thinking out loud...

If there's one thing I've learned...

... it's that if you have a question, ask it.

I've e-mailed the one person at our church who knows everything: the office manager. Maybe something more "formal" will begin to take shape...

Anyway, it can't hurt.

Can it?

Thoughts on Women's Ministries (redux)

Laying aside the issues of women's "roles" in the church, the issue of women's ministries is still embarrassingly un- or under-addressed.

Currently at my church, the closest thing to an active women's ministry is the Wednesday night Beth Moore class. I'll admit that the Beth Moore studies are perhaps a little more indepth than the normal Bible class fare -- but that doesn't make them good.

The state of Bible classes in general is frustrating. I don't mean that all Bible classes should be along the lines of those offered at the grad school -- I don't think it's necessary for every Christian to learn Hebrew, Greek, Aramaic, and the historical-critical methods of interpretation (though I think it also wouldn't hurt...). I just think that a Bible class ought to teach.

Beth Moore has arguably made a small dent in the lack of material for women's classes in particular. But it's not enough; it's not adequate. And it's not even that good.

I don't want just to complain. I want to do something. But I honestly have no idea where to start. In a church of roughly 1200+ in which the topic is rarely (if ever) addressed, I haven't got a clue how even to begin.

As far as structure, I've actually been looking at men's ministries rather than traditional women's ministries: women and men today face many of the same problems, temptations and situations in every day life. The needs a women's ministry must address are no longer exclusively learning better child care tactics and how to make a good casserole. Those are important parts of ministry -- developing strong mothers and feeding the hungry -- but they aren't all relevant for all women. Not all women can cook. Not all women are "naturally" good with children. And many women today don't intend to get married -- and those who do are waiting later and later in life to do so. So what ministries are relevant to those who don't have husbands or children, are young professionals earning their places in what was once believed to be a man's world?

There are temptations today that are common to age groups regardless of gender. In much the way Promise Keepers works, so ought there to be a corresponding women's ministry.

And whether a church believes women can serve in "official roles" or not, women need to be shown where opportunities to serve lie. By the time the young men are beginning to be trained to give lessons, lead prayers, serve communion, and to lead singing, the young women are being told (again) about dating and finding a good Christian mate. No wonder we lose so many girls around the age of 16: they're being taught that if they aren't interested in becoming wives and mothers, there's really no place in God's church for them -- any other talents they may have or may think they have are irrelevant. It's sad, but this is the message many young girls are getting.

I work with girls in their early to mid teens at Christian camps in the summer. I've volunteered with countless youth groups. There is a need there that is being unmet and, worse, largely ignored. They're disillusioned by the repeated implication that God only intends for men to serve and women to ... do what? They don't know. None of them could give an answer to that question.

So what are women to do? This is why we need at the very least a stronger women's ministry, a system of women to teach and to mentor other women.

Prayer

Prayer fascinates me. For however long I'm willing to pray, I have the ear of the God of everything. For as long as I talk, he listens -- not tapping his foot and checking his watch, but listening intently. And when I learn to listen, he talks, too.

I don't mean that I hear the audible voice of God. I mean that when I learn to be silent in prayer, to simply be instead of simply begging, I realize I'm in the presence of God. It's humbling and awe-inspiring. It's praiseworthy.

That presences strengthens me, builds my faith, convicts me and sometimes breaks my heart.

Sometimes I realize I'm standing before the God of All ... and I have nothing to say. Needs I can't express, sins I can't confess. No excuse. No words. But:

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.



Romans 8:26

And prayer isn't just the formal, stopping everything and deciding, "All right. I'm going to pray now." That's part of it, part of the discipline of prayer. But simple determinance and method aren't the sum total.

God is listening always.

I tend to think we're praying nearly always, that to "pray without ceasing" is a statement of fact, not simply a command. God is attending to our unspoken, unformed, maybe even unknown prayers. He hears the things we don't know how to say, the things we don't know how to ask -- or the things we're afraid to, just as a father observes the needs of his child when she may not know them herself.

What is man that you take thought of him? And the son of man that you care for him?



O LORD, our lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!



Psalm 8:4, 9

If prayer, then, is such a priviledge, why do so many men who are called upon to lead them in the assembly grumble as though they've just been given diaper pail duty?

Particularly from the standpoint of a woman in the c's of C, I can think of few things sadder in our worship services. Over the years, I've heard men turn down the opportunity or accept it grudgingly, leading a half-hearted prayer on behalf of us all.

I find myself praying for him, wondering if he is aware that he's not just addressing those of us seated in pews, but also the one who fills not only the auditorium, but all of creation.

If we all prayed with the awareness that God truly is listening -- even to the things we can't or don't say -- I have to think we'd hear fewer formulaic prayers, fewer bored tones. Maybe we'd hear his answers more clearly, too. Churches flounder at times for lack of direction.

God's listening. Are we?

The sound of silence.

Consider the silence of a living tree; it neither speaks nor hears.Out of the uncounted aeons, inexorable, ever-changing forces have erected it, to a purpose beyond our understanding.It needs no words, yet its presence is no less actual than ours.


Consider the value of silence in community.Our ability to listen should be our gift to those around us.Too much talk is a sign of self-centeredness and insecurity.


If you hear yourself talking excessively, take care.



from "The Rule of Saint Benedict"
interpreted by John McQuiston III in
Always We Begin Again

Sometimes you can't get a raincheck.

Tuesday after father's day is a little late, I suppose, to write this. But now is certainly better than never.

Sunday, the country observed a day honoring fathers. I've been blessed in my life not only to have a dad whom I love dearly, but also to have several surrogate "fathers" over the years. They've all be valuable to me and I'm better for the influences of all of them.

When I was young, my dad hung the moon. My mother says at the mention of "daddy," stars twinkled in my three year old eyes. He could do no wrong -- like Superman, only better. He was my hero, my safety net, my teacher, my friend and my guide -- and promised he would be forever.

He taught me how to ride a bike, throw a baseball, use a toilet plunger (hey -- dads have to be practical, too), and to memorize scripture. He taught me to think for myself -- and later I'm sure he wished he hadn't. But he supported me, even when he didn't agree.

Dads aren't perfect, but it's hard to see that as a little kid. Growing older, though, it's something we realize instinctively more than incidentally. I don't think that there was a day I simply decided, "Dad's not perfect anymore. He's ... human. Like me." It's something that changes gradually, like summer becomes fall and suddenly it's cool. Things are changing.

But I still thought he'd live forever.

For 24 years now, nearly 25, I've believed on some level in my dad's immortality, that since he had always been there, he would simply always be there. Just over a year ago, that belief began to crack.

My dad was diagnosed with advanced asbestosis and silicosis, lung diseases he'd acquired from his years in the Navy. Forty years later, they've advanced far enough to be diagnosed. Far enough to be fatal. When he told me, it felt like he'd already died. Even Superman fears kryptonite.

I found myself thinking of all the things we hadn't done, all the things I'd never said. All the regrets I'd collected, betting on rain checks and borrowed time came flooding into my mind at once. I thought of the times I hadn't called, of the days I didn't visit or the times I'd rescheduled, just knowing there would be a tomorrow. And now he's telling me there may not be.

There may not be a tomorrow. I didn't know how long we had. But had I ever? We're never guaranteed tomorrow -- and the depth of my regrets showed I'd forgotten that.

Just over a year later, I still have my dad. I still have the comfort of being able to call him, to see him, to hug him, to tell him I love him and to hear his voice. Every day I have him is a day I treasure -- and something I long to implement in the rest of my life: no one is guaranteed tomorrow. Don't live life in such a way that when the tomorrows run out, you regret the wasted yesterdays.

Just beyond the river...

This morning, while driving to work, I was thinking about the Mississippi. I work just east of the river, at a hospital near Riverside. Driving to work, I catch a glimpse of the river to the west.

The Mississippi River slices southward from Lake Superior down through the Delta and terminates into the Gulf. Today, I’m on the eastern edge of the river, making a home in Tennessee. Before, I called a small town in Arkansas home. I was born elsewhere, but Arkansas is where my family is. It’s where I spent much of my youth. It’s where I graduated from both high school and university. Many of the most significant events in my life and in the life of my family happened there. It became home.

The Mississippi reminds me of home – but one that’s not mine anymore. My home is here. In Memphis. In Tennessee. East of the river – and just beyond that body of water is the home of my parents, my brothers, aunts, uncles, grandmother – everyone. But I’m not so far away: any given weekend, a short trip – only an hour and a half – will take me back to my mother’s house. The river is a comfort. And I’m happy in my new home.

Israel remembered rivers, too.

By the rivers of Babylon— there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion. On the willows there we hung up our harps. For there our captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying, "Sing us one of the songs of Zion!" How could we sing the Lord's song in a foreign land?

Psalm 137: 1-4

For them, home was just the other side of the river, as well – but no weekend trip could take them back. Israel is now only a shadow of the People God meant for them to be: enslaved, in captivity and bound to this new land, compelled to make a home among hostility and wilderness, the river was not a comfort. On the other side were the ruins of home. The temple. God.

They mourned but they did not forget who they were and where was home.

We, too, despite our homes here, are strangers in a hostile land. They serve different gods here, sing different songs. Here we’re only a shadow of the people we’re meant to be. On the other side of a much larger river lies home. Our father. Our God.

Sometimes we forget who we are and where is home.

But our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory, by the power that also enables him to make all things subject to himself.

Philippians 3:20 – 21

Books (and authors) that have changed, challenged and shaped my faith.

Obviously the Bible is first on the list. Without it, the rest of these books would hardly have done any good. I tend to use several translations: the NIV Study Bible as my "comfort" or "devotional" Bible, the Oxford Annotated NRSV as my preferred translation, and the NASB -- mostly for double checking the NRSV. If it's serious study, I also use the Greek New Testament and the Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia.


Susan Niditch

--War in the Hebrew Bible: A Study in the Ethics of Violence
--Oral World and Written Word: Ancient Israelite Literature
--Chaos to Cosmos: Studies in Biblical Patters of Creation


Elaine Pagels

--Beyond Belief: The Secret Gospel of Thomas
--The Gnostic Gospels
--The Origin of Satan


Patrick D. Miller

--The Religion of Ancient Israel


Ian W. Provan

--A Biblical History of Israel


William G. Dever

--What Did the Biblical Writers Know and When Did They Know It?


Baruch Halpern

--The First Historians: The Hebrew Bible and History
--Law and Ideology in Monarchic Israel


Philip Yancey

--Rumors of Another World: What on Earth Are We Missing?
--What's So Amazing About Grace?
--Soul Survivor: How Thirteen Unlikely Mentros Helped My Faith Survive the Church
--Disappointment with God
--Reaching for the Invisible God


Carroll Osburn

--Women in the Church: Reclaiming the Ideal


Bonnidell Clouse and Robert G. Clouse

--Women in Ministry: Four Views

Walter Kaiser
Moses Silva
Richard Oster
Gordon Fee
Moishe Weinfeld
Chaim Potok

... and a ton of others. The ones listed are just a "first ones who came to mind" list. When I say they've changed, challenged and shaped my faith, I mean it. Reading these hasn't always been pleasant -- and sometimes infuriating -- but they've had an impact and for that I am grateful. Reading diverse materials helps me to better understand why I believe what I do, how I can present those beliefs to others, and, on occassion, they've changed the way I see things enough to modify, adjust and to tune my beliefs -- not in order to conform to a scholar's mold of the Christian life, but instead to be more instep with the Christ I follow.

The Safety of Jabez

I realize that talking about The Prayer of Jabez is somewhat passe. I think that there is, though, a valuable lesson in it -- and it's not exactly what Bruce Wilkinson had in mind.

Wilkinson derives his entire (though admittedly short) book from two verses in 1 Chronicles.

Jabez was honored more than his brothers; and his mother named him Jabez, saying, "Because I bore him in pain." Jabez called on the God of Israel, saying, "Oh that you would bless me and enlarge my border, and that your hand might be with me, and that you would keep me from hurt and harm!" And God granted what he asked.

1 Chronicles 9:9-10

From this, Mr. Wilkinson has extracted a theology promoting this passage as a positive, effective prayer. I'm not so sure it is, even though God answered it. What Jabez prayed was, "God, make me safe." And God did. And we never hear from Jabez again because in granting that prayer, Jabez was rendered unusable.

When I look at the Bible and see the people God used most, the people whose names are recorded as examples of faith, I don't see people whom God has kept "safe." Preserved them, yes. Brought them through trials, of course. Kept them safe? Hardly.

I don't think "safe" is exactly the word I'd use to describe the travels of Abraham and of Sarah, away from his father's home, his family's gods, through hostile territories, growing older by day, clinging to the promise of a son, a nation, and following the voice of a God previously unknown to him.

I can't think that Moses was particularly "safe" in going back to Egypt, a country he fled 40 years ago as a murderer. I can't think it was "safe" for him to confront Pharoah and to demand the release of Israel.

It wasn't "safe" for Mary to bear a child while unwed -- and less so for her to claim the child is the son of God. It wasn't the "safe" thing to do for Joseph to marry her. It wasn't "safe" for John to preach in the wilderness -- or, indeed, for Christ to come at all. The list goes on: Paul, Peter, Stephen, John. God doesn't call us to safety. He calls us to do his will in a world hostile to it. He calls us to die.

Ultimately we are saved, not "safe."

Through a glass, darkly...

I am attempting to explain the history of, the core beliefs of and the diversity among the branches and even congregations affiliated with the restoration movement -- to people for whom the idea of protestantism is even alien. Add to that the fact that I am not exactly a text book c of C'er and this presents quite a challenge: to be clear without being dogmatic, to be concise without ellipsing important information, to be honest in showing the good and the bad while attempting not to paint a tainted picture is possibly more than I am capable of.

I find myself in researching to be somewhat torn. I love my church family, both my current church home and the one of my hometown. I believe in the hermeneutic even while differing in the way it is sometimes applied. I know why I am a member of this body.

But in researching and viewing different items, I am also embarrassed often by our history. As a convert, I have to say that researching the movement, particularly in the earlier days of my Christian walk, I had to ask what I had gotten myself into and whether God had, in fact, led me here as it so seemed.

The congregation in which I worship is full of love, it's open, giving and caring seeking to minister to each other and the world at large. It's not perfect, but then neither is my physical family. But the larger picture of our movement can't convey that. It's filled with factions ripping and tearing at each other, quibbling over semantics, methods, forms and functions - to the point at which I, looking in, can no longer find our love for the gospel. We prefer rather to be "right" than to know grace and admit we haven't got it all sorted out yet. Historically, we have been pacifists in war, yet our appetite for conflict within our own brotherhood seemed (and, indeed, sometimes yet seems) insatiable.

We as members of the body of Christ are meant to represent Christ. We can't do that if we're busy dissecting ourselves in to a bunch of useless, amputated and dead limbs. Amputated limbs are no longer connected with the Head.

As it stands as of now:

My letter thus far:

To the elders:

My name is Quiara Hazlewood. I have been a member at Sycamore View for several months now and had been attending for several months prior to that. In that time, I’ve become very attached to this church, these people; it has truly become my home church.

I respect the decisions of the eldership as the spiritual leaders of the congregation, however a recent decision has troubled me and I’ve felt compelled to comment.

Recently a decision was made that in essence redefines the deaconate. I realize that biblically the “office” of a deacon is hard to establish, much less to define. The fact that it is a nebulous post (if a post at all) adds to the complexity of the issue. The hermeneutic applied in reaching this decision, however, is difficult to reconcile.

Traditionally, c’s of C have made a practice of going to the Bible to find the answers for everything from why we’re here to how we worship to church organization. In this move, I think we’ve stepped outside that paradigm.

It’s odd that this discussion centers around the book of 1st Timothy, in fact. Historically, c’s of C have limited or even negated the participation of women in the wider world of church ministries – based largely on the interpretation of 1st Timothy 2 and a few other “key” verses and/or passages. Whether I agree with that or not doesn’t matter. I do, however, agree with the principle: let the Bible be the determinant.

In the same book, in the very next chapter, Paul discusses the qualifications for deacons and for elders. In no text are we given to believe that deacons are “elders-in-training.” In the same way the church argues for specific roles for men and women based on the interpretation of 1st Timothy 2, we are now crossing that line and blending the “roles” (for lack of a better word) of elders and deacons. They are presented as two distinct ministries with distinct qualifications. I don’t find evidence to believe that they were ever considered overlapping in the sense that one is training for the other.

I agree that training for potential elders is a good idea. I just don’t think the deaconate is the place for it. I realize that some of this may seem like quibbling over semantics, but it’s really a plea for consistency in the methods we claim to apply. If an argument from silence can justify our lack of instrumental musical accompaniment, how can that same hermeneutic allow us to redefine and reassign something delineated?

Response and Responsibility

I've been thinking lately about this post. It occurs to me that if my elders' actions honestly bother me, then I have a responsibility. So I find myself writing a letter today, respectfully challenging the decision they've made.

I realize at this point, spinning the wheels backward probably won't happen. It's begun; likely it will continue onward, despite what I or anyone else says. But if no one writes and no one says anything, it certainly won't change.

So often, though at another congregation, I've been summarily silenced, 1 Timothy 2 serving as a gag order. Ironically, this entire discussion revolves around that small book.

In it, they presumably find reason to limit or negate women's participation in the larger church setting. I'll spare my hermeneutical differences for the sake of argument. They take what they feel is a biblical stance -- which, whether I agree or not, is admirable.

Within this same book, we read of elders and deacons and the qualifications for each. While the role of a deacon may be somewhat nebulous, there is no indication that they were ever meant to be "junior elders" -- quite the opposite, in fact! The two are presented as distinct roles.

Based on the same argument for proper "roles" they use for the separation of the services allowed to be rendered by men versus women, the elders are not right in having redefined the deaconate and, in essence, mixing the "roles." This is a larger problem than it at first appears. It's a problem of the convenient hermeneutic, the very kind they claim to stand against. It's double talk. Either what is said is what is meant or there is a lot more "wiggle room" than has been previously admitted or accepted.

Inconsistency, particulaly in something related to what I'm supposed to profess to believe, seriously bothers me. I realize that not everything is black and white, but there are plenty of grey areas already without our manufacturing our own.

So I'm praying a lot before the final draft of this letter. I'm hoping it will be received in the spirit in which it's intended and that it will, at the very least, cause them to pause and to think about what it is this action is honestly saying.

Forgiveness

I've been thinking a lot lately about forgiveness.

I've come to believe that despite what I've been taught, orgiveness is not simply a choice; it's a lot bigger than that. Forgiveness is an act of redemption and redemption requires sacrifice. It will inevitably cost something -- and sometimes it will cost a lot.

Jesus that those who are forgiven much love much, but those forgiven little love little. For those who have always been "good people," it is harder recognize the real cost of redemption. Those who've been to the bottom and had begun digging know very well what it took to buy them back, to make them free.

But the truth of it is that we are none of us that "good" and all redemption comes at a high price. We have no excuse, then, to "love little."

As Christians, we are called to forgive just as God, through Christ, forgives us. According to 1 John, this is a continual process, the blood continually cleanses us. And every day we are called to choose to forgive, and to do so to the same extent that Christ forgives us. We, too, are called to die -- to ourselves, to the world, to our own feelings of hurt and anger and our desire for revenge or "justice" as we see it. Having within us the mind of Christ and living as he would calls us to desire the redemption and ultimate salvation of even those who've hurt us most. We are expected to desire the eternal presence in heaven of even those whom we never want to see again on this earth. I know for me, that takes more than just a decision. It takes a full realization of the price of this sacrifice. We don't just redeem our friends; we pay the highest price to redeem our enemies.

It's hard, but God never exempted anyone from obligation just because it was hard.

Conviction and Vexation.

Our elders have decided to redefine the deaconate.

In effect, deacons are now explicity, rather than the historically implicit declaration, junior elders. From the pool of the deaconate, the next elders will be drawn. My problem with this is manifold.

There is no biblical evidence that the deaconate was a specific "office," though it could be argued to have become one at an early date. But whatever they did isn't well-spelled out in the text. But we do know that there were deacons, male and female. There is no reason to believe that whatever a male deacon was is different from whatever a female deacon was.

In creating the junior elders pool in the deaconate, we have officially gone outside the bounds of the biblical picture -- as well as closed off the area to women entirely. While many will accept the fact that women were deacons and some are even open to the idea of this becoming the practice again, many are uncomfortable with the idea of women as elders -- therefore, they could not be included in the pool of the deaconate.

Our elders are either saying one of two things: either women can be elders, which I doubt our eldership believes, or women cannot be elders and thus are excluded from being deacons, regardless of the biblical picture.

The ones who have abiblically defined what a deacon is and will do are the same ones who exclude women from participating in order to maintain what they believe is the biblical picture. It cannot be both ways. We cannot simply apply the Bible where it's comfortable to do so and change it when it's not.

This bothers me. A lot.