Sunday, November 27, 2011

Belle battles complementarianism: Reason the third


from here
The final reason (for now, at least) I don’t think the debate between complementarians and egalitarians can be over in Sydney yet is that as much as I love Piper and Grudem, they’re not Jesus. It’s more than a little sad that the Reformers and translators in the past fought so hard and in some cases died so that we could read the Bible in our own language and our own home only to have us run to the Council of Biblical Manhood and Womanhood instead for all things gender-related. We have the same Holy Spirit and the same Word as Grudem, Piper, Jensen, indeed any Christian minister who teaches us (including the egalitarian ones). I’d dearly love to see far more laypeople trying to work out this issue (all issues!) for themselves – them, the Word and the Spirit - rather than lazily agreeing with whatever the big guys say.

Here endeth the rant. I'm off on holidays.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Attack the Block


It's been a crazy couple of days. First I discover I'm a year older than I thought I was, and then I see an alien movie and flipping love it.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

I did not know that

from here

N: How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?

Me: Not at all! I'm 27, turning 28 in March.

Husband: No, you're 28, turning 29 in March!

Me: [Long pause during which extremely difficult mathematics (2011 minus 1983) takes place in head] Oh.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Belle battles complementarianism: Reason the second


from here
Another reason this debate can’t be declared over is the fact that it seems even complementarians can’t give consistent answers to all of the questions their argument raises. In The Conversation Stopper (the article mentioned in my previous post on this topic, from Issue 332 of the Briefing), Claire Smith mentions that the whole congregation would learn from the prophecy of women, despite the fact that she, like many, believes “women ought not to assume an ongoing, authoritative teaching role within mixed congregations” (footnote 1).

Since starting to look into gender roles I’ve grown more and more frustrated by the complementarian qualifiers that muddy an already-cloudy issue. How do you define “ongoing” in this case? If a woman in the congregation has the gift of prophecy, should she only be allowed to offer one per fortnight? Per month? At what stage does it become “ongoing”? And how do you define “authoritative” here? Surely all prophecy is as authoritative as you can get, if it is indeed “God’s truth declared” to his people as Smith says in her article (the emphasis is mine)!

Again, I’m not sure that these are questions the Bible wants us to spend our limited time asking or debating the answers for. And so Grudem has to write up a ‘do/don’t’ list for women to make up for the Bible’s silence, and each church muddles its way along, usually inconsistently, trying to work out how “equal but different” can possibly be logical and practicable. I still don’t understand what the difference is between leading a church service and leading the singing, yet in the Anglican churches I’ve been part of in Sydney, women are only allowed to do the latter. Not only that, at the very least, how many churches have taken the advice Smith gives in her article and taken steps to work out how to encourage those with the gift of prophecy – of course, I’m thinking of the women in particular – to use their gift for the edification of their congregations? I’ve no idea either, but I’ll have a guess: Not enough.

Also, do complementarian men skip over articles by Smith in The Briefing in case they learn something, or is she allowed to teach in writing, just not in speech? If so, is it because writing’s not “church”? Is that the difference? Or is it because The Briefing is edited by a man and she’s therefore under his authority? I don’t know. Are there any complementarians who can answer all of these questions? Perhaps they’re happy not knowing for sure. A few churches and many years ago, a beloved minister emailed me a chapter from Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood (by John Piper and Wayne Grudem) in response to some questions I had about a sermon he’d preached on 1 Corinthians 11.

When I confessed later that it didn’t clear everything up for me, we ended up agreeing that our questions (his and mine) were fundamentally about creation and we weren’t sure we’d ever find answers for them. I respected (and still do!) his honesty in those conversations, though I wonder now if he ever searched for answers outside of complementarianism. He never mentioned to me that there were evangelical Christians who offered other explanations that did make sense of the first chapters in Genesis (and, flowing on from there, the passages in 1 Corinthians and 1 Timothy).

Basically, in reading the complementarian side of the debate, I can’t help but keep returning to the full list of questions I had when I started this process. I agree with this thought (at least) from a recent CBE blog post:
...there are more radical groups that require their women to not cut their hair, to wear head coverings, to not wear jewellery, men’s pants, etc. I’ve got to give them this: Their exegesis is more consistent than the less radical. This simply makes their errors greater, but they are more logical and more consistent...

I draw encouragement from the fact that mainline complementarian thought has reached the current, less logical stance. It’s a movement in the right direction.
I see complementarianism played out in so many different ways that I’m now fairly convinced there’s not too much agreement between those who hold the view outside of believing that a man should always be the leader. Perhaps the reason there are no satisfying answers to be found in complementarian arguments has a lot to do with the fact that the Bible doesn’t give answers to the questions their arguments force us to pose. If it did, we’d have no need for this.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Worst. Morning. Ever

from here

Yesterday morning I packed a bag ready to head to a park as a fun way to spend the morning. Carrying my son, I found my phone in one room and a jumper for him in another, picked up my handbag, patted my pocket to check I had the keys, and then walked out the front door. It was as I heard the lock click shut behind me that I realised I’d grabbed the wrong bag and what I thought were keys in my pocket were actually cashews. I had no keys. No wallet. No snacks, no nappies, no tissues. The only other person who could now get into our apartment was my husband, who was only a third of the way through his 3-hour Greek exam, not to mention a very long walk away. I suddenly needed to wee.

My mum was patient during my hysterical call, as usual, and assured me she’d come for us as soon as she could. My son wasn’t too concerned with the wait; playing downstairs is one of our regular pastimes, although usually he’s accompanied by a mother who points out birds and jumps from behind the letterboxes to make him laugh, rather than one who repeatedly bursts into tears while cursing her stupidity. 

I found after being rescued that the handbag I’d grabbed wasn’t completely empty: it contained a receipt and the stub of a green oil pastel. It was nice to know I’d have had the stationery to leave some last words if it had come to that, although at the time I wasn’t feeling at all creative beyond turning my pashmina into the world’s biggest hankie for my snotty son.

My very wise little brother helpfully told me, “You need to remember your keys!”

NOTED.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Belle battles complementarianism: Reason the First


from here
I recently came across an old post on The Sola Panel in which Mark Baddeley states that the complementarian versus egalitarian “debate is, by and large, over”. These words disappointed me coming from him. I hope he’s not right, mostly because if this issue is seen as settled in Sydney, I sincerely believe it’s settled on the wrong side. I have it on good authority that at Synod a few years ago, the minister who wanted to talk about women in leadership was dismissed with something along the lines of: “We looked at this five years ago, and the Bible hasn’t changed since then.” I won’t go into how ridiculous this argument is (but seriously, if I employed the same logic to my personal study of the Bible, to name just one example, I would never have to reread any of it after having soaked it up from Genesis to Revelation in 2005), but I mention it here to suggest that perhaps there hasn’t been much fresh thinking on this topic by those held in high esteem in the Anglican church (at least) in this city.

Plus, I found out just last night that the female residential students (I’m not sure about the guys) at one particular Sydney Bible college regularly receive copies of the complementarian magazine Equal but Different in their pigeon holes! It worries me that the next generation of leaders are being brainwashed don’t seem to be given much space to come to their own conclusions on this issue. (Okay, the brainwashing thing was harsh but surely Bible colleges should be places where students are taught to love the Bible and to know how to study it for themselves and to be free – no, encouraged - to explore issues and controversies and difficult passages as bias-free as possible, right? Also I recently read Men and Women in the Church by Sarah Sumner, after which I had a clear and disturbing picture come to my mind of thousands of women, gagged and bound, in churches in this city, this country, the world, and since then it’s been much harder to stay emotionally distant when this topic comes up.)

So the next few posts will give just three reasons that I don’t think this debate should be declared over yet, at least not in this city.

Reason the first:
I was surprised by this quote from John Stott in Issues Facing Christians Today (from page 254):
If God endows women with spiritual gifts (which he does), and thereby calls them to exercise their gifts for the common good (which he does), then the Church must recognize God’s gifts and calling, must make appropriate spheres of service available to women, and should ‘ordain’ (that is, commission and authorize) them to exercise their God-given ministry, at least in team situations. Our Christian doctrines of Creation and Redemption tell us that God wants his gifted people to be fulfilled not frustrated, and his church to be enriched by their service.
I was also surprised by The Conversation Stopper, an article written by Claire Smith in The Briefing from May 2006 (I discovered it at a holiday house!), in which she wonders (on page 10)
...if we ought to reinstate ‘prophecy’ as a means for women and men who are not overseers to contribute verbally to the up-building, rebuking, strengthening and comforting of all of the congregation, so that we might all learn and be encouraged and so that the secrets of unbelievers’ hearts may be laid bare.
I can’t help but think that if even the complementarians are questioning whether maybe women should be allowed to do more in our churches, something must be really wrong.

Friday, November 4, 2011

West

from here

My husband and I have been thinking about and heading in the direction of mission for a long time now. We first talked about it after a challenge from a CMS missionary at MYC in 2005, a couple of months after we started dating. But then we broke up. Then a month later we got back together, and then a couple of years after that we got married. And mission has stayed on the cards for us throughout it all. We’ve never agreed on where to go, though. I have romantic dreams of Africa or the Northern Territory; my husband was super keen on the Middle East for a while before randomly starting to get excited about one day heading to South America.

We don’t agree on what a too-comfortable, easy-way-out life looks like, either: I love the idea of heading overseas and am horrified by the thought of spending the rest of my life doing ministry in the country or the ‘burbs, living an ordinary, Aussie life; for me, overseas is the easy option. My husband, on the other hand, thinks heading overseas would be hard and settling down somewhere like Wee Waa is the choice he’d definitely make if he didn’t think he’d be eaten up by guilt every day for choosing it. He’s also an optimist, a recipe-follower and someone who whole-heartedly believes that baths are an acceptable place for a person to read a book or snooze - sometimes I wonder why God thought we’d make a good couple. It seems He has a quirky sense of humour.

This sense of humour (along with a dash of my pessimism) is exactly why I’m not at all surprised that my husband has been offered a student minister position for next year in Penrith – PENRITH!! – which we have accepted. My husband loved working with the church on mission earlier this year, and it was the first time since he started at college that he’s felt God pushing him in any specific direction. I’m excited for us, though it means that we’re moving to Penrith (PENRITH!!), or somewhere nearby. Last night as I searched for houses online, my husband explained that you can tell if the area is good or not by driving around the surrounding streets: If the grass is mown, he said, it’s good. They never cut the grass in the bad areas. Not long after this lesson, we were talking with some friends about our son’s almost-mullet and one of them (who grew up out west and therefore must know what he’s talking about) joked that our son would fit right in out west with a hairdo like that.

I’m trying not to freak out about mullet-haired people who don’t mow their lawns mugging me each time I leave my house (I know absolutely nothing about Sydney’s west; this may very well be a valid concern) and focusing instead on the positives, like the fact that we’ll get to live in a house! With a backyard! And maybe even air-conditioning! And we’ll be where we know God wants us, and the church is GREAT, and we get to make a stack of new friends and pay less rent and be closer to the mountains and slightly warmer in winter.

I've also been studying maps to get acquainted with the area, so that it doesn't feel quite so foreign to me (my husband grew up in those parts, he's all too relaxed about this move). I’m not sure if places like Kingswood or Glenmore Park are suburbs of Penrith, which is itself a suburb of Sydney, but I've decided I do rather like the idea of living in a subsuburb*. Plus, it’ll only be for a few years and then we’ll set off for an exotic location, like Africa or the Northern Territory. Right, God?


[Crickets chirping]


God? 


* Yes I'm grasping at straws here, but did I mention that we were moving to Penrith?! PENRITH, people!!

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Slowing down

from here
A few weeks ago we looked at Mark 1:29-35 at church. Our minister pointed out that Jesus, after a long day of teaching and healing, could have reasonably turned away “the whole town” who gathered at his door - “You’ll still be sick tomorrow! Let me have my dinner and a sleep!” He didn’t, of course. He gives up his time to heal them and cast out demons. It struck me during that sermon how ridiculous it is to think of Jesus crying out, “But what about me? When do I get some me time?!” Instead, the Gospels reveal a man who seems to have endless pools of love and patience and energy and TIME from which to give and to give and to give. The following verse (35) probably has something to do with the source of this never-ending selflessness:
Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.
Lately I’ve felt as if time’s moving faster than I am and that it’s a constant struggle to keep up, or at least to not fall further behind. The days, weeks, months fly by in a relentless onslaught of active verbs: go, work, do, make, choose, come, provide, cook, help. I've been craving slowness, quiet, TIME. My breaks, whenever they arrive, feel deserved; they belong to me, earned by the hard work I’ve done. I want to read a book, watch a movie, check my emails, Get Things Done, and to be alone. I don’t want to have to share my free moments with anyone, including God. Praying and reading the Bible are just two more things on my to-do list that feel like effort. Too many days, when I get to them, I rush through just to tick them off.

That sermon a few Sundays ago was what initially sparked my realisation that neglecting God-time was one of the main reasons I’m feeling more and more out of my depth as time rushes by. Not too long after that spark, we read the story of Mary and Martha to our son from The Beginner’s Bible:
Mary, Martha and Lazarus were friends with Jesus. One day Jesus came over to visit. Mary sat at his feet and listened to him for a long time. Meanwhile, Martha was busy cooking and cleaning. There was so much to do! The longer Mary listened to Jesus, the angrier Martha became. She said, “I am busy in the kitchen while Mary is doing nothing!”

“Jesus, please tell my sister to help me,” Martha complained.

“Martha, Martha,” said Jesus. “You should not be upset. Mary has chosen what is better. She is listening to me.”
Our pre-bed Bible time slots into our son’s routine right after his bath and just before we sing and pray, not very long before he falls asleep and we slow down and enjoy some time to ourselves. It’s a time when my mind is wondering what I’ll do with my evening while my arms keep our sleepy-though-surprisingly-energetic son from diving off the couch or opening the curtains and discovering how light it actually is outside. I’m usually too distracted to think through the fact that the words we read are for me, too. On ‘Mary and Martha’ night I was unexpectedly rebuked by Jesus’ teaching. 

For far too long now I've justified the time I waste, the bazillion distractions from God, the hurried moments I've spent with Him, the way I've prioritised being entertained over nurturing my relationship with Him, the increasing shallowness of my Christian life. I don’t want to become a microwave Christian: throw together some Bible and a pinch of prayer, chuck it in, then PING! Done. And it only took 7 minutes - such a time-saver! I saw a microwave dinner the other night. It wasn’t pretty. It looked small and grey and dull; completely unappealing. I don’t want my Christian life to be like a microwave dinner. I want my Christian life to look and to smell like a hearty, slow-cooked meal: Meaty, rich, tender, flavoursome. I want the aromas to draw people in and make them beg me for the recipe. I want them to crave that same meal.

I have an inkling that being generous with my God-time allowance won’t leave me feeling like I’ve being robbed of precious free moments but will instead help me to feel more free, more like the rest of my world’s slowed down a little bit, that life’s not so overwhelming, that God’s the One who’s in control and that I’m not facing these pressures alone. Today these words from Matthew 11:28-30 jumped out at me:
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.
I’m going to try, God. Please help me.