Full Circle: My Denver Story

Who knows what will become of us?

As children, we dream our dreams -- astronaut, famous singer, missionary, scientist. Our parents are wise enough to let us imagine the future without the wet blanket of reality. They may have ideas of their own, but no one can be sure how things will turn out. They watch and wait with us.

Denver, Colorado, was the cradle of my childhood, the fertile ground for growing up and dreaming dreams. I spent the first 18 years of my life in the same zip code, longing to travel to the ends of the earth. I remember the children's sermon one Sunday morning. Rev. Kok asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up. I don't remember what I wanted to be at that age. I just remember how his offhand comment hit me. "Of course, none of you want to have my job when you grow up." I was floored. Was he serious? Who wouldn't want his job?! I knew no female pastors then, and I don't think I even dared to imagine myself in his shoes, but I couldn't think of a better job in the whole wide world than to preach the Word of God.

I probably said I wanted to be a missionary. In fact, I imagined I could be a missionary-astronaut-famous singer all at once, with space missions and singing tours during furlough. What I didn't want to be was a teacher, which seemed way too boring. Where I didn't want to live was America, because people already had plenty of opportunities to hear the gospel in English.

In the decades since my childhood I've changed zip codes so often I would be hard pressed to come up with a list of them all. West Coast, Southeast Asia, East Coast, Midwest, West Coast, and now the True North. In November, I boarded a plane in Calgary bound for Denver. Usually, going home means stepping away from my work, embracing rest with family. This time my parents picked me up from the airport in my suit jacket with a conference name badge ready to wear. I was home to work.

View of the Mountains from Downtown Denver, 2018
(Photo: C Imes)

It was my 10th year of academic meetings, but the first to be held in my home town. First item on the agenda? Family time. We headed to the retirement home in my old neighborhood to visit my grandparents. On our way to grandma's room, we bumped into Rev. Kok. He's long retired now and driving a motorized wheelchair, but there is nothing wrong "upstairs." We found him in the library studying for his Sunday School class on the Psalms. (A kindred spirit!)

His face lit up when he saw us, incredulous to see me after nearly 30 years -- elementary school student turned college professor. I lost no time in reminding him of his children's sermon and how I had aspired to be like him.

"Do you ever preach?" he asked, eyebrows raised in expectation. Time stood still as I considered the irony of his question and what might be at stake in my reply. Women didn't preach in our church growing up. It wasn't allowed. For most of my childhood, they couldn't even collect the offering. I realized in that moment that church practices are complicated, and that I probably didn't know Rev. Kok as well as I thought, or that he might have changed while I was changing, too.

"Yes!" I replied, the clock ticking again. "A few times a year in local churches or in chapel."

His response was immediate, affirming, "Good for you!"

It's a mystery how old aches can heal or unfinished chapters can be written in a moment's time. That conversation was balm to my soul. There he was, my childhood pastor, looking at the grown up me and saying, "well done!" All these years I had imagined his displeasure at the ways I'd come to disagree with him on theology or on church polity -- especially on the topic of women in ministry. And here we were, colleagues. He made sure I knew that.

Map of Palestine in Jesus' Day
from the NIV Study Bible
Photo: C Imes

I reminded Rev. Kok of another conversation we had some 33 years ago. At the time, it may have seemed insignificant. But in retrospect, it likely shaped who I've become. It was a Sunday morning. The sermon failed to capture my interest, so I was studying the maps in the back of the pew Bible. I might have been 8 or 9 years old. I was looking at the map labeled "New Testament in the Time of Jesus." But something was wrong with that map! Jericho should not have been there. The Old Testament said the walls fell down! I was puzzled (and, if I'm honest, probably felt a bit smug about finding a typo in the Bible).

I brought the Bible with me to the back of the sanctuary afterward, where Rev. Kok was shaking hands with everyone as they filed out. When he was finished, he turned to hear my question. I remember his giant frame bending down to look at the map. He didn't know the answer, but said he would investigate. (I had stumped the pastor!) One week later I could hardly wait for the sermon to finish. I was nervous that he had forgotten my question, but also eager to know if he'd found an answer. He asked me to wait until he was done shaking hands. Then he bent down beside me to explain.

His answer matters less than the fact that he had an answer. He had taken my question seriously, researched it, and brought me a response. A whole book on Jericho?! A reason for its re-appearance on the NT map?! I came away with a healthy respect for scholarship and an appreciation for libraries and the confidence to keep asking questions. Is it any wonder I ended up as an Old Testament professor?

The next day I headed downtown for six days of professional development, networking, academic papers, board meetings, and conversations with publishers. But the most significant work had already been accomplished at the retirement home. I'd come full circle.

And so I went home. Home to my roots. Home to the people who shaped my future. Home as the grown-up me, so grateful for the grace of God that takes our dreams and makes them something better than we knew to wish for. A missionary? Yes, but not in the way I'd imagined. A teacher, which was a much better fit for my personality than an astronaut. A ministry that includes preaching as well as writing the sorts of books that address Bible questions shared by children and adults.

It truly is the #bestjobintheworld, because it's what I was born (in Denver) to do. Who knew?

prostitutes, polygamy, and other gnarly things in the Old Testament

The Old Testament is full of fodder for questions. Gnarly questions about violence and sexual deviancy and deception and war. Every year new books are released that try to wrestle with these questions from a Christian point of view. Here are a few examples from recent years, most of them focused on violence in the Old Testament:

• The God I Don't Understand: Reflections on Tough Questions of Faith by Christopher J. H. Wright (Zondervan, 2008)
• Is God a Moral Monster? Making Sense of the Old Testament God by Paul Copan (Baker, 2011)
• God Behaving Badly: Is the God of the Old Testament Angry, Sexist and Racist? by David T. Lamb (IVP, 2011)
• The Violence of Scripture: Overcoming the Old Testament's Troubling Legacy by Eric A. Seibert (Fortress, 2012)
• The Morality of God in the Old Testament: Christian Answers to Hard Questions by Gregory K. Beale (P&R Publishing, 2013)
• Did God Really Command Genocide? Coming to Terms with the Justic of God by Paul Copan & Matt Flannagan (Baker, 2014)
• The Skeletons in God's Closet: The Mercy of Hell, the Surprise of Judgment, the Hope of Holy War by Joshua Ryan Butler (Thomas Nelson, 2014)
• Tough Questions about God and His Actions in the Old Testament by Walter Kaiser Jr. (Kregel, 2015)
• Wrestling with the Violence of God: Soundings in the Old Testament by J. Blair Wilgus & M. Daniel Carroll R. (Eisenbrauns, 2015)

Last year David Lamb added a second book of his own to this collection: Prostitutes and Polygamists: A Look at Love, Old Testament Style (Zondervan, 2015). I was asked to review it for Themelios, the digital journal of The Gospel Coalition. My review went live yesterday.

I hesitated to accept. The book struck me as edgy and irreverently playful on a subject matter that deserves steady and non-sensational reflection. Frankly, I didn't seem to fit the target audience. But the editor had reasons to ask me (my gender, my cross-cultural experience, and my background in Old Testament ethics), so in the end I agreed to write a review. You can read it here. You might find it to be just the thing for the college group at your church, but I hope my review will help guide your group discussions in order to avoid some of the potential pitfalls of Lamb's approach.

While I have your attention, I'll put in a plug for two books I like better. Wright's book, listed first above, is an outstanding yet accessible introduction to tough issues involving suffering and evil, the Canaanites, the cross, and the end of the world. (His more scholarly tome, Old Testament Ethics for the People of God, is also well worth reading, if your attention span can last nearly 500 pages.) Paul Copan's book, listed second above, comes highly recommended as well. I haven't read the whole thing yet, but I find his approach much more satisfying than Lamb's.


If you're wrestling with some of these tough questions, please know that there are answers. From our vantage point we may never be fully satisfied with the ways that the Old Testament narrates the story of Israel's faith. It's too foreign and too far in the distant past to make perfect sense to us. But if we apply ourselves diligently to the text of Scripture and broaden our understanding of its ancient context, we can come a long way toward making sense of the Old Testament. It's a journey worth making!

on the lighter side

Eliana (standing by my dresser, holding a bottle quizzically): What is this, Mom? Some sort of hairspray?
Me: No, it's wrinkle cream.
Eliana (a bit startled): Wrinkle cream?! But it's too late!

So true. :) May I age with grace ...

"You who are young, be happy while you are young,
and let your heart give you joy in the days of your youth."
Ecclesiastes 11:9

"Even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me,
until I proclaim your might to all the generations to come."
Psalm 71:18 

did your Sunday School teacher get it right?

Emerging adults have a special talent for critique. At 35, I'm probably not a "young adult" any more, but I well remember those heady days in college where I measured everything against my new-found knowledge of the Bible. Pity the chapel speaker who dared to use Scripture in a less-than-exegetically-sound manner! I even wrote a paper once cataloging the misuses of Scripture I had heard in our very own chapel.

I was not alone in my negative attitude. It seems such moods are contagious. (This is why the use of words like "boring" and "pathetic" incur maximum penalties at our house.) It got so bad that my best friend and I had to make a pact not to sit together in chapel because we simply couldn't control our negativity when we were together.

Wheaton is apparently not exempt from this deadly disease. One professor notes that it's all too easy to elicit a critique from students, but much more difficult to coax them to come up with a constructive alternative to the ideas they've so quickly dismantled. He calls for a return to childlike faith, suggesting that the title of this post is the wrong question to be asking. His online article is well-worth the read.

Sunday school teachers may be more savvy than we remember, and (I might add) the penetrating messages of chapel speakers are all too easily deflected from transforming us when we insist on a certain (narrow) mode of delivery or method of interpretation. As I enter into my 11th year of higher education, the day draws ever closer when I'll stand on the other side of the podium. It's daunting to think about facing a room full of precocious young adults, many of whom will be able to see a loophole in everything I say. (Why was it again I wanted to do this with my life?) On the other hand, the privilege of walking beside them as they discover new ways of thinking outweighs the risk of being thought wrong or — worse still — "boring." I've seen with my own two eyes that excitement about Scripture is also contagious. Hopefully I can model not just careful critique but also humility and a deep love of the Word.

Because in the end, our Sunday School teachers gave freely of their time and themselves. They did their very best to take the profound riches of Scripture and make them understandable to kids who need things to be concrete and fun, and who have a very hard time sitting still. That, my friends, is no small task. And until we're willing to try it ourselves, we have no right to criticize.

making sense of Easter

We're all at various stages of trying to make sense of Easter.

Last night was pretty rough on Easton, poor kid. We attended a Good Friday service, and warned Easton (age 3) ahead of time that we were going to church to help us remember when Jesus died for us on the cross. Before he even got to his class he was crying, so we let him sit with us in the service. But the somber tone of the service was too much for him. He just curled up in my lap and sobbed. "I don't like Jesus dying on the cross," he kept saying. "I don't want Jesus to die." He and I spent much of the service in the lobby. Between his bouts with tears I explained more about Jesus' death and why it was sad but good for all of us. He listened intently to Pastor Ray's message through the speakers and picked out words that he could understand (blood, death, shepherd, etc). He told me, "The Lord is my shepherd." But he refused to accept the idea that God planned Jesus' death. He simply likes Jesus too much to be okay with his death. And of all the hundreds of people who were at the service, I'm guessing no one had a clearer picture than he did of the most sorrowful and mysterious day in human history.

Emma and I went on a picnic date to her school playground this morning. We had imagined that it would be cool and quiet, sunny and breezy. What we didn't imagine was a city "Easter" event in the park next door, complete with costumed characters, loud music, and crowds pushing strollers. Emma (age 6) was disappointed not to be able to hear the birds singing, and she confessed to me that she did not like the music because it wasn't worship music (I was inclined to agree ... Madonna's 'Material Girl' was not my idea of Easter music). Later this evening on our way to church (where an Easter Egg hunt was planned for the kids) Emma was still trying to make sense of the way our culture celebrates Easter. Her musings went something like this: "Easter has nothing to do with bunnies or eggs, but eggs are a little like Jesus, because he went off by himself in the garden to pray. Not many people knew about it. He hid away just like the eggs." A valiant effort, I'd say! I'm afraid I can't think of a better way to connect the two, unless we want to talk about eggs as a sign of fertility . . . and God's promises of a lush new creation (?!).

And what does Easter look like from an 11-year-old's vantage point? The kids visited Awana (a kids Bible club) on Wednesday evening, and Eliana came back jazzed about the message the leader gave about the atonement. "It was so deep," she told us. "I mean, I didn't agree with everything he said, but he really made me think." She's so ready for a challenge, and has great theological questions.

Don't we all? Wherever we are in our spiritual journeys, each of us is trying to make sense of Jesus at some level. How can he be both man and God? If he's God, then why does he still need to pray? Was his death inevitable? Did he really rise from the dead? Pastor Ray's message this evening went straight to the heart of the matter. "All of us have doubts at some level," he said. "But salvation doesn't come to us when we finally understand it all. Salvation comes when we grab hold of him." You may doubt whether he can hold you, but you won't know if he can until you throw yourself into his arms.

Christianity doesn't claim to resolve all mysteries on this side of eternity. To some extent, we all need to embrace the mystery, not because Christianity lacks historical reality or absolute truth, but because our ability to assimilate that truth will never be complete in this life.

Faith and mystery—together—drive my study of Scripture. To use the age-old dictum, its a journey of "faith seeking understanding." Following Jesus requires our whole selves, including our minds. God is glorified through the time we spend thinking, pondering, and studying his revealed Word, pressing in for more understanding. But we need not suspend our faith until understanding comes. I believe that God has revealed himself to us in his Word. I believe there is no greater good than knowing Him. I believe He is worthy of my trust and my praise. I believe that Jesus was sent from the Father, lived, died, and rose again. Do I understand how it all works? Not yet. Maybe never in this life. But I keep pressing on to know this great Love. I hope you'll experience his Love for you this Easter and press on to know him more. Embrace the mystery. Throw yourself in his arms.

text and canon for 4-year-olds

I've spent nearly a year teaching the young four-year-old Sunday School class at our church.  They are a precious group of kids.  It's such a privilege to help lay a biblical foundation in these little ones.  I love to tell Bible stories in such a way that they are alive and interesting to the kids.  One idea has gone over particularly well.  It wasn't premeditated, I just realized when I saw blank looks that they needed more info!

Whenever I tell the story I have a Bible in front of me, even though I'm telling the story without reading it.  I like to tell them where in the Bible the story comes from.  Here's an example of the kind of thing I've been telling them throughout the year:

"Today I'm going to tell you a true story from the Bible.  It's found in the book of the Bible called John.  Why do you think it's called John? (this is a rhetorical question, by the way, and I don't wait for an answer!)  Because a man named John wrote it!  John was one of Jesus' disciples.  He followed Jesus around and watched what he did.  John listened to what Jesus said.  And it was really amazing stuff!  After Jesus died and rose again and went to heaven John thought to himself, 'People really need to hear about Jesus!'  So God helped him remember all those things that he heard Jesus say and saw Jesus do so that we could read about it and know Jesus, too!"

The kids seem to really get it.  And I hope it's sinking in for the long haul.  Because even more than the specific lesson I have to teach in a given week, I want them to know that the Bible is living and true, and the only reliable way to find out who God is!

glue or nails?

Emma (age 4-3/4) is strapped in her car seat pondering the best way to put on a roof.  "They could have used glue instead of nails!" Most roofs in our neighborhood are in the process of being replaced thanks to a recent hailstorm.  Just about every day another house on our street gets a makeover.

"Glue?" I asked her.  "Why?"

"It would be quieter, and it wouldn't waste so many nails," Emma explained.

"I would be worried that the hot sun would dry up the glue and crack it so that the shingles don't stick anymore."

"Good point," she conceded, but went on thinking. "What if they glued Jesus to the cross?"

I had to fight to hold back laughter.  It just hit my funny bone!  "Well, that certainly wouldn't have hurt as much, but they were trying to hurt him."

"Do you think he cried?" She shuddered, "I sure wouldn't want to be Jesus!"

"Well, the good news is that he did it so you wouldn't have to!"  I love happy endings, and so does Emma.

kids ask the best questions!

A couple of friends at church have asked me to help them answer their kids' most profound theological questions.  Canaan asked a great one last week about the 10 plagues in Egypt.  Here's her question and my answer:

"Why do we not have those big miracles around here anymore?"

When God was delivering his people from Egypt he had to reveal himself powerfully so that they would know who he was, and that his power was greater than the Egyptian ‘gods’. It was an important time where God was setting Israel apart as his people, and the great signs he performed were something that they would always be able to look back to so that they would never forget that he had chosen them in a special way. (You could read the first several chapters of Deuteronomy together as an example of how important the exodus was in setting Israel apart as God’s people.) Some of the prophets performed mighty signs later (like Elijah and Elisha) to remind Israel that Yahweh was still their God. And when Jesus came he did signs to show us that he was Yahweh himself. He was in a way leading God’s people out of slavery a second time. This time, instead of bondage to Pharaoh, it was bondage to sin. Now we look back at his miracles as the signs that show us who he is and how he chose us to be his special people.
So, while there are sometimes miracles today, they don’t tend to be as huge as those told in Exodus and in the Gospels because God has already revealed himself as the deliverer and savior of the whole world. We have his Word to remind us of that, and he promises that there will once again be great signs when he returns to set up his kingdom on earth. But since he’s not revealing himself in a new way, signs are not necessary.

If your child is asking you questions and you're not sure how to answer, feel free to email me and I'll do my best!