this past week i saw a flurry of facebook posts about john piper’s latest words about  masculine christianity.  i am pretty out of the blog-reading circuit because there are only so many hours in the day and mine are jam packed with people & kids & more kids & more people.  at the same time, i love that challenging conversations are happening and social media is a powerful tool to raise awareness.

i did not listen to john piper’s presentation or link to the blog post.   i don’t have the stomach or time for it, but i got the cliff notes version from rachel’s blog.  i like her idea of helping people consider other views of God that aren’t specifically masculine.  i have no trouble with God being masculine.  the trouble i have is assuming God is primarily masculine because Jesus was a guy and chose 12 male disciples and then building entire systems upon that thought, utterly dismissing a whole other half of God’s image and essence.  along with that half, i am certain we’re missing a whole lot of other things about God that we have been afraid to explore because the systems & churches we have been part of have kept God so contained.

john piper makes caricatured roles for men and women, over-simplifying the image of God placed in each of us.  this denies not only women of their fullness, but men as well.

whether we want to admit it or not, piper’s theology is deeply embedded into most of standard evangelical christianity.  it just is. men do certain things and women do other certain things.  if each sex would just step into “God’s intention for them” (“appropriate” social roles), everything will work just fine and everyone will be “free.”

when God created humans, God made us in in the fullness of God’s image.  not half, not part.  yes, we are unique and different, and that’s why we need each other to more accurately reflect the fullness of God’s image.  the body of Christ is a reflection of God. if that’s the case, then why is half missing, devalued, and thought of as less somehow?

change in “the church” is coming.  a holy stirring is happening and many people are starting to call it for what it is–oppression, sexism, and a fear-based theology that perpetuates injustice.   however, it has become so innate that merely trying to shake it out of our system isn’t going to cut it.  we’re not a few awesome blog posts away from changing these deeply grooved systems of injustice.

when we start thinking about change, there are two natural reactions to it that we think of first:

1.  prune off what’s not working.  if we can prune some of these injustices out of “the church”, we’ll be okay.  this is the idea of changing systems by making some adjustments here and there that will shift things.  raise awareness, start to think differently about it, help leaders become more sensitive to issues of equality, influence change from within.

2. raze the ground completely.  knock it all down.  it’s flawed, it doesn’t work, it harms people.  the whole thing is so jacked up that we just need to walk away from it entirely.

i feel strongly that alone, #1  just won’t work. i’m not saying that some systems can’t be changed from within but i think it’s a pretty brutal road and will require leaders who are willing to shrink their churches & ministries, pay some serious emotional, spiritual, and financial costs, and lose all kinds of things they are used to gaining.  honestly, that’s just not super likely on a wide scale.  human nature & self protection will strongly work against such courage.  pruning also dismisses the magnitude of the problem.  we’re talking about deeply grooved systems of injustice that go back to the beginning.  the root system is strong;  a little tweaking isn’t going to bring full equality for anyone. 

i also believe that blowing the whole thing up isn’t really an option.  it works for some people.  they believe in certain scriptural interpretations & hold dearly to their tenents. i may disagree, but i don’t think that means there aren’t valuable things that happen for people through their churches and so scrapping the whole thing isn’t really fair or respectful.

i think there’s a much better option:

plant new trees. 

trees that have the roots of equality from the very beginning.

trees that gain nourishment from a free-er gospel and soil that is enriched with freedom and hope instead of fear and absolute certainty.

trees that have men and women and rich and poor and educated and undeducated and black and white and gay and straight all tangled up together from the beginning.

trees that are tended to gently and naturally instead of pumped with unnatural growth agents & pesticides that try to advance the progression of development to “catch up faster” to other churches that will always have the advantage of time and power on their side.

trees that get their strength from the beatitudes not their latest and greatest how-to-grow books and conferences.

trees that are well-watered by people who are tired of talk and are ready for action.

trees that over time will flourish and bring shade and fruit and all kinds of other goodness for generations to come in the communities & cultures where they are planted.

a diverse ecosystem of trees that more accurately reflect the fullness of God’s image. 

these trees can be all kinds of shapes and sizes–individual relationships, groups, churches, ministries, organizations–little pockets of love & freedom cropping up all over that influence people and model a better way, a free-er way, an equal way, a more “oh, that’s what Jesus looks like” way.

yeah, pruning won’t cut it.  razing isn’t an option.  let’s get planting. i have a feeling some of you are really good gardeners.

* * * * *

here are a few other links i wanted to highlight:

many of you have probably read it, but if you haven’t check out rachel held evans’ post this week: they were right (and wrong) about the slippery slope.  i slipped off the slope a long time ago and sometimes tell those that wonder, “yeah, i completely slipped off the slope and somehow found the most solid ground i’ve ever stood on.” 

our walking wounded online class starts monday february 6th.  registrations are possible until then, so if you or someone you know want to be part,  you can sign up at that link.  it’s going to be good! i also am not sure when we’re planning on running it again so now’s the right time if you’re on the fence.

i wrote a little post for provoketive magazine last month that i forgot to share called stories that matter.

lastly, i posted this on facebook & it made some pretty good rounds, but if you missed it, here’s the trailer from my awesome friend pam hogeweide’s new book, just released at the end of january–unladylike: resisting the injustice of inequality in the church:

- st. thomas aquinas

remember that book, “all i ever needed i learned in kindergarten”? sure, some of what we learned when we were five would be helpful to us as grownups.  but i’m also going to make a supposition that even by age five, weird friendship stuff may have already seeped in.  some boys stop playing so freely with girls. the power dynamics of who rules the playground kick into full swing.  cliques form.  the weak are often already culled out. it looks different for everyone, and there’s no question we are a lot purer when we are five than when we are 35, but the same fact remains–friendship is hard!

cultivating healthy, strengthening, encouraging, equal friendships is an art, not science.  and a very lost art at that.

in fact, i feel quite sure an honest poll would reveal that most people don’t have the kinds of friendships they long for.  that most don’t really know how to do them in a way that works long-term.  that some feel as inadequate now as we did when we were in junior high, even though they fake it better.  that many don’t even know what healthy friendship is supposed to look or feel like.  and that it seems there’s never enough time to develop them.  i am also going to take a leap and say that in the christian world, it’s even worse.  there are countless other weird dynamics at play in christian friendships that even further complicate what’s already complicated.

i know the feeling. i used to stink at real friendship.  i’ve always had a lot of friends.  i am a loyal person and have always hung on to friends–both male & female–through thick and thin.  but it wasn’t until i was in my late 20′s that i started to become comfortable enough in my own skin to actually be the kind of friend i wanted.  the kind that receives instead of just giving.  the kind that is honest & raw instead of holding back all the time.  the kind that makes a really concerted effort to nurture the relationship instead of expecting it to drop out of the sky.

18 years later, I’m still learning. it’s not the easiest thing for me to do.  at heart, i like independence, not interdependence.

and real friendship requires interdependence.

a give-and-take.  grace.  intention.  vulnerability.  risk.

in church, we are taught a lot about believing, knowing, and worshiping certain things and acting certain ways.  even now, with a lot of focus on missional living emerging in many churches, which i think is a good thing, a crucial ingredient is usually often missing– how to just be a friend.

an honest friend.

an equal friend.

a vulnerable friend.

a long-haul friend.

there are a lot of forces working deeply against friendship (not just cross-gender friendship but all forms–men with men, women with women, and across ages & differences, too.)

power.  we know how to be under people or above people but rarely do we know how to live beside them. it’s a natural force of our Genesis 3 human-ness.  often without thinking, we look for someone to control us or someone to control.  if we feel “less than” or “more than” others it messes with real freedom.  this is so unconscious for us that we don’t even know we’re doing it.

shame.  sometimes we are scared to be fully known because if people really knew us we’re quite sure they wouldn’t want to be friends anymore.  we give part of us but not all of us because full honesty is too risky. but honest sharing with a friend who can honor it brings one of the greatest rewards of friendship–the experience of grace. also, some people feel embarrassed that they never learned how to develop healthy friendships and it feels weird & awkward to be trying now. (it’s never too late, i know that for sure!)

independence.  many have learned through damaging past experiences that “the only person we can really trust is ourselves.”  and even if we don’t trust ourselves, we at least know what to expect.   a “trust God and God alone (by yourself)” mentality is especially pervasive in christian circles.

fear.  we don’t naturally like to make ourselves vulnerable . we don’t like to get hurt.  and somehow we know we will if we get too close to another person.   our natural tendency to avoid pain is always at play.   i’ve lost a few friends along the way, and it hurts. a lot. but it was still worth it in the end because of what i learned through them. in cross-gender friendships, fear is even higher because for the most part people say it isn’t possible without sexual weirdness.

yikes, those are some strong forces working against us!  when i look at this list, though, i have hope. i have seen it up-close-and-personal in my life & many others–healthy friendship is so possible!  but much deeper than only my experience, these four things–power, shame, independence, and fear–are what Jesus calls us to break down so we can get to the better thing–love.

humility, grace, trust, and peace are all part of love and antidotes to power, shame, independence, and fear.

that’s really what friendship is–loving another human being more freely, more purely, more honestly, more fully.  and being loved by another more freely, more purely, more honestly, more fully.   it’s about loving and being loved.

and that, my friends, is scary stuff!

we’d much rather talk about almost anything else.    and do most anything else.

and it’s probably why we need to focus on it the most. 

i think a task for the body of Christ is to begin actively showing people how to be friends in all kinds of shapes & sizes.  men with women, men with men, women with women. to break down systems of power and honor what it means to be equals, created in the image of God. to find ways to really heal from shame instead of just talk like we have and become more free & healthy human beings.  to learn what it means to be interdependent instead of independent or codependent.  to have courage to push through our inadequacies & fears and stumble & bumble into new ways of living together as friends.  friends with God, with others, with ourselves. they are all mixed up together. 

oh there are so many beautiful things to learn alongside each other!

what are you learning about friendship these days?

* * * * *

ps:  next post is part two and is a little more practical, but i wanted to get this out while it was swirling around in my head.

pss:  my friend dan brennan is an advocate and teacher for sacred friendships.  he continues to call people to break down the walls that divide us and bravely engage in deep, intimate friendship with one another.  in april the first sacred friendship gathering centered on cross-gender friendships is happening in chicago; i feel privileged to be sharing there and would love for you to come be part of this important conversation!  if you can’t attend but would like to help someone else have a chance to go, scholarships are greatly needed so that as many people as possible can be challenged to consider the practice of deeper friendship.  also, they are pulling this off as a labor of love on a shoestring budget, so let dan know if you can help!

yes, i recognize “the church” is a flawed system made up of imperfect human beings.

it also has an incredible ability to influence people.  it possesses a wild amount of power to sway us certain directions.  many often believe lock, stock & barrel what leaders say from the pulpit, TV screens, books, and most any other medium where someone is “teaching”.  we assume the ones talking must know what they are talking about and just go with it.

their charisma is intoxicating.  their clarity and certainty is comforting.

when it comes to issues of equality and inequality, this means a helluva lot of people are being influenced to believe in complementarian theology and practice.  so many sit in the pews and nod their head when they hear about biblical manhood & womanhood and how men just need to step up and be the head of their households and women just need to support them properly. book after book gets written about this topic; the truth is that on the whole–the ones that sell like hotcakes–are those that adapt this hierarchical theology to contemporary culture in a slick, inviting way.  don’t even get me started on mark driscoll’s new book & ed young’s new gimmick (i couldn’t bring myself to include the links).

but like it or not, people are listening. these guys are strong, clear, certain, charismatic communicators.  and thousands and thousands and thousands of men & women are following them.

they are influencing a helluva lot of people.

when i was on a megachurch staff years ago we pulled together a really challenging premarital workshop that was egalitarian & honest & real.  we tried not just to talk about budgets and the number of kids each person wanted.  we shared from ephesians 5:21 (submit to one another out of reverence for Christ), the part of the passage no one ever starts with. i remember all those sweet young couples in there going “huh, i’ve never heard this before.” there were a lot of other things we explored together, but the point is this–the message was new and liberating.  i am still proud that even for a short season we offered another angle.

a chunk of months after i left the staff i saw the premarital workshop being advertised again for the next round of soon-to-be-marrieds.  the wording, the content, and the leadership had completely changed and the new focus was on exploring “biblical manhood & womanhood” and “God’s given roles for marriage.”

we all know what that means.  yeah, it doesn’t go down too good for the women. or the men either, actually.

it broke my heart, but i wasn’t surprised. now, many years later, i feel sad when i think of the thousands of people being influenced by this usually subtle & sometimes direct teaching.  not only in premarital workshops but in the daily grind of church culture where men are in charge, women are serving their butts off, and the power differentials Jesus tried to knock down continue to get perpetuated.   mega-churches influence thousands of people.  add the smaller churches who espouse the same theology and all of the books & seminars & bible studies being written and sold by people with power, and it multiplies exponentially.

it’s a helluva lot of people being influenced.

i’m sad for all the awesome women who are sincere and want to do the right thing before God and will read all kinds of books & go to all kinds of groups to learn to be a good christian women and always come up short.  i know the feeling.

i’m also sad for all those men who will never be able to lead strong enough to be valid christian men and for all the ways they lose out on a strong and equal teammate.

mostly i’m just sad that many people don’t know that there are other options and ways to view the scriptures.  i do not know one mega-church that actually teaches egalitarian marriage. i am sure they exist, but i believe they are very rare.  many will say “we value women” and “we believe in equality.”  but the truth is that deeply embedded in the cultural norms, teaching, and ethos of their bodies is a particular way of interpreting biblical roles for men and women that continually keeps women underneath men instead of in equal, free relationship with each other.

our best hope is to continue to be the change we want to see.

we can create smaller missional communities that teach a better way.  we can play our part in restoring sexual brokenness and being people of change and hope.  we can encourage women to lead more freely. we can model the beauty of equal marriage.  we can blog our hearts out about equality and justice.  we can learn how to bravely practice cross-gender friendships and write challenging pot-stirring books.  all of these things are helping turn the tide, and that is beautiful.  i may be a bit more skeptical than some, but i do believe major shifts are happening, and that’s always how we get to a new place. i think it can happen faster if more brave leaders use their power, influence, and charisma to directly influence change.

there will always be those who hold deeply to their interpretation of the scriptures that support male headship.  i respect that.  but there is a far wider population who only believe it because that is what their pastors, leaders, books, radio & TV shows, and podcasts tell them to believe.  so many have never looked at it from another angle because no one in power has showed them another angle.

God, whether we influence a small amount of people or a lot of people, help us be brave and use our power & voices & lives to show another angle from which we can serve you and others better and actively participate in turning the tide.   

it is so appropriate in more ways than one, and now i see it first thing every morning when i get creamer for my coffee.

i need the reminder.

as a parent, as a leader, as a friend, as someone healing from woundedness, one of the greatest gifts we can learn is the art of “letting go”.  letting go doesn’t mean giving up.  it doesn’t mean not caring.  it doesn’t mean not being engaged or connected.  but it does mean taking our grip off of things so tightly.

it means learning how to be less codependent.

it means trusting God is at work in ways we can’t see.

it means respecting our limitations.

it means practicing becoming better human beings.

it means being very aware of how much power we give to things in the past or the present that we have absolutely no control of.

when i think of church woundedness, “let go or be dragged” comes to mind.  when i was hanging on so tightly to the past, i was the one suffering. i was the one pissed off. i was the one in misery.  the people & systems who hurt me were perfectly fine. they had moved on but i couldn’t seem to. i was being dragged around by them even though they weren’t even doing the dragging!

when i think of parenting teens, it is also oh-so-appropriate.  i personally think parenting is one of the trickiest spiritual & personal formation opportunities in our lives. it is butt-kicking sometimes, just how easy it is to get hooked in to unhealthy, nutty dynamics as a parent.  there are times when i am trying so hard not to get sucked in and next thing i know, boom, i’m being dragged all kinds of places i never intended to go.

when i think of leadership, in whatever shape or form some of us might find ourselves in, this thought is a helpful guide.  the struggle with people-pleasing is real for many of us, even if we don’t want to admit it.  we care when people criticize.  we take things more personally than we should.  we can’t stand it when people disapprove or disagree.  one of the biggest learnings of 2011 for me was practicing the art of letting go as a leader.  of realizing that there are so many things beyond my control and i have to trust God & people & the bigger story instead of operating out of a place of desperation or fear.

when i think of journeying with people in the midst of hard stuff, this is also critical.  learning what’s our responsibility and what’s another person’s is really difficult when a lot of pain & struggle is involved.  gaining greater understanding of our responsibilities & also limitations is a skill that requires God’s tangible help and active-spirit-at-work-showing-us-the-way.

so this year i am going to keep practicing what it means to let go.  to take my white-knuckled-grip off-of-all-kinds-of-things-that-i-can’t-really-control-anyway-even-though-i-think-i-can.  to stay engaged & present & “in” without getting yanked and dragged into all kinds of places i don’t need to go.

what about you? what do you need to let go of this year?

and at any moment something i say here can bug pretty much any of them for one reason or another.

this is a really familiar feeling for me.  all through  middle & high school & college & pretty much all of my adult life i have always been friends with a bunch of different people that rarely all come together in the same place.  i love it because i know such beautiful, diverse, amazing people.  but it can also feel unsettling & uncomfortable.  i miss some of what you get when you are deeply embedded in a particular tribe.    i think one of the things that i appreciated about being on a mega-church staff for those couple of years is that it’s so big that you don’t really need anyone else.  it’s its own island and a really clear tribe with no room, or apparent need, really, for much else.  now, out here floating around on a lifeboat for the past five years clinging for dear life i have had to learn something that i knew i needed to learn–how to be comfortable in my own skin.

my skin.

not someone else’s.

not what this group is doing or that group is doing.  not what this church is doing or that church is doing.  not what this ministry is doing or that ministry is doing.  not what this person is doing or that person is doing.

i’m learning to become more comfortable with what i believe.

not what this group believes or that group believes.  not what this friend believes or that friend believes.  not what this blogger believes or that blogger believes.

yikes, it’s hard to do!  the systems of the world are built upon people conforming to each other somehow. my friend & awesome refuge teammate karl always says that we mistake uniformity for unity.  true unity is diversity, bound together with a common thread.  to me, when it comes to issues around “church”,  that thread is God.  but we’ve built systems that call for uniformity, that we need to be like “them”, whatever the them is, in order to belong.

i do not think that any of the things i believe are really very heretical!  they’re just one expression of faith that i feel dearly and passionately about, and stem from how i view the gospels & the Bible & what God has stirred up in me through the years. my point in my last post, yep, i guess i’m a heretic, is that by believing & practicing these, somehow i’m “out” of certain circles because of their interpretation of theological truth.  that’s so bizarre to me.  and sad.

but alas, my responsibility is not to change that system or anyone’s minds.

my responsibility is to learn to be comfortable in my own skin. 

my skin, not someone else’s.

but the skin God made that’s me.

this is maturity.  this is healing.  this is transformation.

and this doesn’t have to have to be perceived as something that only has to do with faith or church or anything “spiritual”.  it has to do with becoming better human beings, stronger, more secure, more free men & women, who discover who we each are in deep places of our hearts & practices.

one of the things i love about the christmas story and this time of year is the reminder of Jesus’ humanness.  he had to learn to be in his skin just like us.  and obviously, many, many people didn’t really like his skin.  he had to have his feet on the ground & his head in the clouds in order to walk out the journey he was on here on earth. he had a huge advantage, being God and all, but i take great solace in knowing that Jesus understands humanness.

in all its mess & all its glory.  in all its struggle & all its joy.  in all its reality & all its beauty.

the wise & prophetic father richard rohr says that other “a” words for advent are:  alert, awake, alive, attentive, aware.  i’m not big on alliteration but i love these words!   this season i am trying to be awake, aware, attentive to my story, God’s story-in-me.

and i think it’s a story of growing up somehow, of learning to be comfortable in my own skin. learning to be be less codependent & independent and more interdependent. to be more free.  to be less afraid. to be more clear, even if its only about a few important things.  to be more brave.  to be more weak in some areas & stronger in others.  to care less about what people think & more about what God might think.

God knows our struggle to be comfortable in our own skin.  God is E/Immanuel, with us.  here, now.  down here in the muck and mire of our real lives, our real struggles with life & faith & relationships & all that it means to be human, created in the image of God, living in this broken weird wild world.

enthusiastically wanting to teach us to be comfortable in our own skin.

i’m trying to listen.

* * * * *

ps:  i stumbled upon this original advent song this weekend by matt staniz. i loved it & thought i’d pass it on to you today as we reflect on our skin, God’s skin.

my post up at rachel held evans’ blog last week–insecure christians–got some great comments, both positive ones & negative ones.  the negative ones tended to come from the perspective that by me saying there is something good in us (because we are originally created in the image of God) that it somehow devalues the work of Christ in our lives.  i’m personally so confused by this fear, that if we have even a little bit of good in us, it somehow untangles the whole rest of the story.  to me, it enhances the Story and the work of God in this beautiful, messed up world.  it doesn’t dismiss the power of sin and the reality of its presence in each of us from the moment we step into this Genesis 3 world.  but it isn’t our starting place.

and i guess sometimes these i-honestly-don’t-think-they’re-all-that-crazy-when-you-read-the-gospels ideas make me a heretic.

i’m called one now and then.

and for the most part i always take it as a compliment.

it’s part of the cost of being a dreamer, lover, and status-quo rocker.

honestly, if believing that there’s some shred of good in every human being because we were created in God’s image makes me a heretic, then yep, I guess i am.

if thinking that even though we are full of brokenness, we are also beautiful no matter what we believe makes me a heretic, then yep, I guess I am.

if holding that women should be fully equal with men and free to lead fully and completely in whatever way God is calling them to lead makes me a heretic, then yep, I guess I am.

if refusing to build entire oppressive & mean systems of belief about homosexuality based on a few passages in the Bible and loving my gay friends freely & fully makes me a heretic, then yep, I guess I am.

if valuing practicing the ways of Jesus over nitpicking about doctrine makes me a heretic, then yep,  i guess i am.

if being convinced that it’s possible that men and women can be true brothers & sisters & soul friends without all kinds of sexual weirdness and fear makes me a heretic, then yep, i guess i am.

if passionately believing that a lot of the modern church has been built on power, put-togetherness & serving itself instead of extending the tangible love of Jesus & restoring dignity to hurting people makes me a heretic, then yep, i guess i am.

if loving & valuing the Bible without making it more important than the wild-and-mysterious-Holy-Spirit-at-work-in-people’s-lives makes me a heretic, then yep, i guess i am.

i have a feeling a lot of you are heretics, too!

it can feel scary & lonely to be a heretic.  i experienced the weirdest feeling when i was reading some of those comments over at rachel’s blog–a feeling of being an outsider. of being someone who no longer is part of a system that many still ascribe to and i used to fully embrace.  it was mildly painful on a weird level but a huge relief on another.  i respect the beliefs of some of the commenters and our differences; the world needs all different shapes & sizes of christianity.  but it made it even more apparent how “out” of those particular traditional evangelical circles i really am.

i live in a different more grace & hope-filled world than ever before and i love it.

i have tasted “goodness in the land of the living” (psalm 27:13, i love that psalm) and there’s no turning back.

i do not want to raise my kids in the former system i was in & i don’t want them to believe that being a miserable wretch is their primary starting place.  they, like most human beings, will probably have the same basic reflex toward shame and somehow feeling like they are falling short despite all their efforts.  what i would like for them, for me, and for all-those-i-know-who-struggle-with-believing-they-are-worthy-of-anything-good to know is we are loved fully and completely by God just as we are–in all our mess & all our glory, in all our goodness & all our badness, in all our strength & all our weakness, all our beauty & all our ugliness–no matter what small or big faith we might have.

yep, i guess i’m a heretic.

* * * * *

I had an amazing conversation last week with a non-Christian counseling grad student who had a project in this class to “move toward something in their culture they were uncomfortable with.”  He chose Christianity.  His experience with it wasn’t a positive one so he was trying to bravely explore it.  We had a delightful conversation because he asked the best questions, the kind where trite Christian answers won’t quite do.  He wasn’t talking about atonement theories or biblical interpretation of certain passages (for the most part, I think only Christian insiders give a rip about that kind of stuff).

He asked–Why do Christians never seem to feel very good about themselves?

I laughed that he had hit the nail on the head.  The basic premise of Christianity is that there is nothing good in us.  That original sin has ruined us and we are miserable sinners, unworthy of anything good without the blood of Jesus.   That depravity is our essence.

With that as our starting place, my experience has been that despite all of the “God loves me” messages that get tossed around in church services and Bible studies, nothing completely fills in the cracks of that deep chasm.  That somehow, no matter what, we just aren’t good.  We aren’t worthy.  We aren’t secure.   We aren’t loveable.  We are fatally flawed as human beings.

I know this well in my own life. I come from a liberal, non-churchy family that believed in the basic goodness of people (we were those people who evangelical Christians worried about!).  When I opened my heart to following Christ, I needed a real, tangible God and was strangely and beautifully drawn to Jesus. I always say that if I had just stuck with that and never became involved in the kinds of churches I ended up attending, I would have been better off in the security-as-a-person department.  But alas, that is not my story, and the rigidity and rules sucked me in, and I learned about what a miserable person I was without the cross of Christ.   I ended up feeling worse about myself than when I started, and I brought a lot of shame and guilt to the table from the beginning!  Christianity seemed to cement in me my badness.  It reminded me constantly how much I fell short and how unworthy I was without God in my life.

About 17 years ago a wise and beautiful friend rocked my world with an important theological twist that some of you might say “duh!” at, but it was never taught to me in my hyper-conservative-evangelical circles.  We were made in the image of God.  That goodness is in us from the beginning.  Sure, sin and brokenness has infiltrated this Genesis 3 world, but we must remember it all started with Genesis 1.  Man and woman, created in the original image of God.   That is our essence even though brokenness buries it.

I think that the spiritual journey is to uncover God’s image that was originally placed there.  

I know from experience in my own life and journeying alongside many others that this is no easy task.  It makes it far worse when the starting place is “I am really a miserable wretch.”

The Apostle Paul in Romans 7 talks about the struggle of our humanity to lean into sin.  This passage is used all the time to hold up basic depravity, but we forget the twist that is there–”It’s not me, but the sin that lives in me” (vs. 7:12).

As a mother of five, the last thing in the world I want my kids to think is that they basically suck and are unworthy, unlovable.  I want them to know they are beautiful, created in the original image of God with his imprint built into every fiber of their being.  I want them to know they are worthy, secure, free.  With a great human capacity to sin, fall, fail and really mess things up, sure.  But I do not want a faith that forces me to build in them a basic insecurity from the start.  That feels cruel.  And completely counter to what I know about being a loving parent, and I’m only a human one.

My experience in working with people in pain in the church is that there’s an awful lot of insecurity going around in a system that is supposed to be built upon freedom, healing, and wholeness.  Far too much fear, depression, inadequacy, unworthiness exists in countless Christ-followers when they have a chance to be really honest. Something is gravely wrong with this!

But the systems we’ve created and the theologies we’ve clung to perpetuate it.

Ultimately it not only damages us personally and relationally, but keeps the real power of the church paralyzed and stuck.

And really insecure.

also, i haven’t forgotten the co-pastoring series, really.  i got a bit derailed and haven’t had time to edit the interviews i did but do hope to finish them by next week.

meanwhile, i thought i’d share a little piece i wrote for the voca femina share party in denver this past friday night centered on fear.  it was a spoken word so just reading it sort of misses the punch.  however, i know that many of you are trying to find courage to step into all kinds of things–leaving old things, starting new things, transforming relationships, and trying to practice and dream again–so i thought i’d share it here.  it was a lovely, inspiring evening as always; a free space to share beauty feels really holy to me.  you can check out the pictures here.  voca femina continues to just travel its own journey without a lot of tending to; the share parties seem to be where we feel the most energy & life.  there are things that somehow just don’t quite work the same way online!

so here you go, a few things i’m learning about fear right now, inspired by my recent acupuncture experiences.  that woman is a therapist-spiritual director-acupuncturist all rolled into one.

* * * * *

fear.

damn it, i hate fear.

i wish i didn’t know it so well.  that its tentacles hadn’t wrapped around my heart & my soul so deeply, sometimes sapping my courage like some kind of cruel sport.

fear kills.

fear destroys.

fear paralyzes.

fear maims.

but i’m learning something important right now about fear.  something deep inside the marrow of my bones, in the blood that flows through my veins into my heart and my head and my hands and my feet and my eyes and my ears.

fear can’t win.

it tries, oh it tries.

but i must–oh i must–refuse to let it.

refuse to let fear win.

refuse to let it silence me, stifle me, wither me, squelch me, punish me, abuse me, paralyze me.

life’s just too short.  too precious. too fragile.  too beautiful.  too sweet.  too rich. too deep. too wide.

to let fear blind us from beauty and hope and love and peace and peace and freedom and joy and peace. and peace. and peace.

so what’s the way out from under its grip?

how can i move when i feel so stuck?

i must find courage. i must find courage. i.must.find.courage.

i know it’s there.  it’s in me.  it’s in you.  it’s in all of us.  yours helps mine and mine helps yours. and yours helps yours.  it’s stronger than we think.  deeper than we know.

available right now.

not once i do this or do that or read this or read that or know this or know that or figure out this or figure out that or therapize this or therapize that.

it’s here.  right here.

courage.

lovely, strong, tender, mighty courage.

deep in the marrow of my bones and the blood in my veins and the ventricles of my heart.

courage, crying out–”use me. use me.  use me.  i may be small.  i may not be as loud as you wish.  but i’m here. i’m here.  i’m here.  to help you. to strengthen you.  to move you.  and just so you know, i may not look like it, but i’m way stronger than that ugly bastard named fear.  quit. letting him. win. quit standing there yelling and screaming at him.  instead, maybe reach out and make friends with him. “

you can have fear without courage, but you can’t have courage without fear.

you can have fear without courage, but you can’t have courage without fear.

that’s what courage is.  doing hard things scared.

i can. i must. i will. i am.

you can.

you must.

you will.

you are.

-  kathy escobar, from voca femina, august 2011

* * * * *

God, help us do hard things scared.

uh oh, i’m on my “men and women need to learn how to be friends” kick right now.  I think it’s appropriate in light of the shared leadership conversations, too, because it gets to the center of so much of what’s broken in our systems—both in and outside of “church.”  we know how to be over others or under others, but rarely do we learn how to be alongside each other.  yesterday a friend shared that when reading a blog post that someone had basically commented “well, i personally would never be alone with a woman because i can’t trust myself or her.”    when i read this i felt sad for a few reasons:  1. it’s so common. 2.  it’s so guided by fear, and 3.  it’s so limiting. 4. it doesn’t need to be this way.

staying separated greatly limits our ability to be deeply connected in the ways i think God intended.  we can’t learn some of the things we need to learn about life & love & people & friendship when we’re always living out of fear in relationship with one another.  also, by keeping ourselves separated, we are perpetuating deeply grooved systems of hierarchy.  in the end, we all lose.

the way to break down some of these divides is to learn how to be friends.

most of us haven’t learn this very well.  a lot of our family experiences didn’t teach it. work often doesn’t teach it.  many of our churches certainly haven’t taught it.  so we’re sort of left to fend for ourselves and learn it on our own somehow.

against a lot of resistance.  yeah, there are a lot of forces working against men & women learning how to be friends.  patriarchy, sexual weirdness, negative church-messages & our own default-toward-not-knowing-how-to-do-healthy-intimacy-with-other-people all get in the way. my friend dan brennan talks a lot about this in his work on cross-gender friendships.

one of the reasons I feel so deeply dedicated to healing & recovery & the beatitudes & the 12 steps & transformational opportunities is that as we keep growing individually as human beings we can learn to be better friends corporately.  it is true that when we have hidden addictions & are saddled with shame and insecurity & honestly just never learned how-to-be-a-friend-or-have-a-friend, we really can’t do these kinds of relationships safely, unless there is help & guidance.  there’s just too much baggage that gets in the way.  but, if we can find avenues for healing, we can start to break free from unhealthy patterns and learn how to do relationships differently.

in so many ways, i think that’s the big, beautiful idea of the spiritual journey—to become a better friend to ourselves, to others & with God.

the world needs people who know how to be good friends.   

i think that’s what we are trying to learn in the life of the refuge community together.  it is bumpy.  sometimes ugly.  and often scary.  men learning how to be friends with men, women learning how to be friends with women, and men & women learning how to be friends with each other.  to stop being “over” or “under” another but learn to be “beside”.   across ages, life experiences, faith experiences, socioeconomics & a host of other differences.  sometimes people say that they feel like they are in grade school, maybe even pre-school, stumbling and bumbling through learning how to be friends.

i love that idea because i think that’s what “church” is supposed to be—a place to learn.  Jesus school.  a container to be challenged.  a safe place to practice.

to me, in another weird paradox, even though it seems stumbly & bumbly like pre-school at times, it actually is graduate-level work.  and oh, so beautiful!  to learn to be friends, real friends,  is no small task.  walking persistently with humility & courage is grad school stuff.  real friendship, as Jesus reminded us, is “laying down our lives.”

over and over we will be humbled.  we will be challenged.  we will be afraid.  we will make mistakes.  we will need to give grace.  we will need to receive grace.

but hopefully we will also laugh at our pre-schoolness & celebrate our victories & keep listening, learning, and growing on the journey together.  i am so thankful for all i continue to learn through these deeper, healthier, scarier relationships with men & women, too.

i really don’t think living in fear was ever the idea.  i think Jesus sets us free from captivity; the question is whether we are brave enough to try to step into it.

God, help us be brave & teach us how to be friends. 

* * * * *

ps: my friend john martinez, one of the co-pastors of the distillery church in new york, is doing a summer teaching series on down we go.  i love their community & am so glad we’re friends across the miles.  here are some posts about it:

• making a diverse, paradoxical, interdependent, with chain
• the kingdom isn’t going to just drop out of the sky
• casey anthony, we are really just like her

because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.

he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in zion—

to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.

they will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor. “

- isaiah 61:1-3

* * * * *

this is one of my all-time favorite passages in the entire Bible.  when i first moved to colorado 14 years ago  i was in a crazy hard season of intentional healing from a lot of shame & these words entered into my heart more deeply and somehow helped set me free from shame.  it really was supernatural, and  i love that Jesus lead with them when his public ministry started in luke 4, essentially saying “here we go, i’m here to set you free, like really free.”

over 2,000 years later rules and religion still have people in bondage.

and freedom–real and deep freedom, the kind i think God meant for us–seems to remain very elusive for many of us no matter how long we’ve gone to church.

in fact, i’ve come to believe that the longer we’ve gone, the harder it is to be free.

i also believe that real freedom is scary.

i have fleeting moments where i feel it in my bones, in every fiber of my being.  where grace and peace and a security in who i am intersect in some wild way in my spirit and i truly feel free.

free of needing to please anyone.

free of systems that tell me what i can and cannot do, believe and cannot believe.

free of insecurity about my worth and value.

then what sometimes happens to me is i read too much on the internet.

or i look up and away from what’s right in front of me and begin to compare myself to others.

or i make a dumb mistake.

i see people who seem more spiritual than me.

more certain than me.

more gracious and humble than me.

more talented than me.

more all kinds of things than me.

and just like that, my freedom slips away and i’m back in egypt.

a slave.

i don’t want to be a slave.

and i don’t want my friends to be slaves, either.

so i keep fighting for my freedom.

and for the freedom of others, too.

toni morrison says, “the function of our freedom is to free someone else.”

years ago when my kids were little and i started making some significant shifts in my spiritual journey and becoming more honest, i remember saying to my friends “my kids are what keep my butt in the chair every week, trying to grow and change.  i don’t want them to be stuck or feel the way i feel about myself.  i want them to be free.”  and now, as they are getting older, this feels clear–they are indeed free-er than me.

and even though my freedom can feel elusive sometimes, something has indeed “tipped” over the past chunk of years and i feel more free, more of the time, than i’ve ever felt before.

free to be me, just me.

free to receive God’s love without having to work for it.

free to lead freely as a woman in my little wild faith community, the refuge, and i know that’s a gift in “the church.”

free to share my sin & shame & pain & struggles without fear of judgment or rejection.

free to be loved by all kinds of beautiful people in all kinds of beautiful ways.

free to offer love to others without trying to change them.

and free to call others to freedom, too, to use my freedom to help free someone else.

to make room for others to lead and find their voice, their creativity, their passion.

to be safe enough to hear another person’s sin & shame & pain & struggle and do what i can to offer unconditional love and acceptance.

to play whatever small part i can in passing on love to those who feel unlovable, to making the invisible visible.

to encourage others to be free to be themselves, too.

none of this is possible on our own.   oh, how we need God’s spirit to move in our hearts & lives to reveal to us what deep, real freedom really is!  to make sure we don’t mistake freedom for a bigger cage.

then we must accept it.  lean into it.  practice it.  trust it.  re-new it, again and again and again.

and use it–however we can, whenever we can–to free someone else, too.

* * * * *

ps: down we go’s been doing well & i always love hearing the stories on what it stirs up so keep ‘em coming! here are a few things swirling around out there about it:

• today there’s a video about downward mobility on recycle your faith.
• my friend & awesome blogger/artist/pastor david hayward paired down we go with this cool print for a giveaway. i wish i would have won the print!
• i’m really excited to be part of sheloves magazine with a monthly piece on downward mobility in the sheloves God column.  here’s the first post: down we go: practicing the wild ways of Jesus.
• and here’s an interview about the book with my friend jeremy myers