life in the middle of nowhere

Does life have you doing circles in the desert?

If so, you're not alone. And God hasn't given up on you.

Last week, the summer edition of the Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary Alumni Magazine, Contact, was released. It includes the devotional I gave at the Gordon-Conwell Alumni Breakfast at SBL last November, as well as a write-up of Anne Doll's phone interview with me, where we talked about how to make it in grad school as a family of five.

For those of you who are "in between," waiting to step into a season of fulfillment, this devotional is my gift to you, the fruit of my own desert wanderings. Here's a snippet:

In those "in-between" places, we are faced with many questions. We are no longer certain about who we are. We are not sure how God is leading, or even if he's leading. In our desperation to restore a sense of order to our lives, we're always in danger of adopting the wrong narrative. But God has us right where He wants us. He has lessons to teach us that can only be learned in a state of dislocation. Lessons about who we are. About who He is. And how He's calling us to be in the world. 

Read the rest here. You can find my contribution on pages 30–33.

waiting for the glory

I received a precious gift earlier this week made by one of my students. Its stunning beauty spoke in parables to me about the glory that comes through suffering -- so appropriate for this holy week.

The rim of the bowl is blood red. This vessel has been filled to overflowing with suffering. And yet, forged in the fire of adversity, the glaze is transformed to striking purple, the color of kingship, with hints of radiant sapphire.

Deep in the center a surprise awaits -- a vibrant green -- proof of life after suffering, even in and through it.

Peter was convinced that the sufferings of Christ provide a paradigm for our own suffering as believers. The fires of adversity work out a glorious finish in us.

"Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps. 'He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth.' When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly. 'He himself bore our sins' in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; 'by his wounds you have been healed.'" (1 Peter 2:21-24)

"Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice inasmuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed." (1 Peter 4:12-13)

 Today we stand midway between Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday. Though the piercing pain and raw wounds are behind us, we have yet to see the full glory that is promised. May this parable remind us of the beauty wrought through suffering, forged in the fire, and stamped by the Great Designer whose purposes are being worked out in ways we cannot yet see.

Pottery: Rebecca Ito / Photos: Carmen Imes

seeing both sides of holiness

Thanks to the recommendation of a dear friend, I've been reading A Blossom in the Desert: Reflections of Faith in the Art and Writings of Lilias Trotter. Lilias was a British missionary in the late 1800's in Algeria, North Africa, and the founder of what eventually became part of Arab World Ministries. Her explorations of faith amidst suffering are profound. I'll share a few vignettes in days to come. Today, in light of my most recent post on Christian maturity, I thought I'd share a snippet of what she says about sanctification. It's much more than the absence of sin ...

"Holiness, not safety, is the end of our calling. Separation from all known sin is the starting-point for sanctification, not the goal: it is only the negative side of holiness; it is only reaching the place where God can develop His ideal in us unhindered. It is when the death of winter has done its work that the sun can draw out in each plant its own individuality, and make its existence full and fragrant. Holiness means something more than the sweeping away of the old leaves of sin: it means the life of Jesus developed in us." (125, emphasis mine)

Watercolor by Lilias Trotter from A Blossom in the Desert, page 219.

how to grow in Christian maturity

Over at the Wheaton blog I've just published a review of Gordon T. Smith's Called to Be Saints: An Invitation to Christian Maturity. It's a book to be savored and re-read. I'm grateful to be able to add it to my personal library.

Smith explores the essence of being a Christian (union with Christ) and how to grow in Christian maturity. He highlights four areas in particular—wisdom, work, love, and joy—that are transformed by our participation with Christ. My favorite chapters were the one on work, where he describes how to discern your vocation, and the one on joy, where he makes the radical claim that joy is the "emotional center" of mature Christians. Two appendices explore the implications of his vision of Christian maturity for churches and Christian colleges.

This would be a great book to read as a small group, a church staff, or in a discipleship relationship. It is well-written, wise, and insightful. I found it personally helpful in discerning our next steps as a family. I highly recommend it! You can order it here from Amazon.

naming the gifts

God has gifts to give us that can only come wrapped in suffering.

We would rather not receive them. We’d rather mark them “return to sender” and move on with things as they are. But we don’t get to choose our gifts. The Wise Gift Giver chooses for us. At first it looks like a mistake, or at least a white elephant. This? For me? Never! It must be some kind of joke. This doesn’t belong in my life! But in fact God sees far ahead, and he knows just what we’ll need to make it through the seasons to come. So he starts working well ahead of time to get us ready.

I don’t mean to say that God is the author of suffering. He’s not. But he treasures the opportunity that suffering affords to meet us in a special way and to refine us.

As I look back over my life these ugly gifts are some of the most vivid, and (in time) most precious.

The gift wrapped in rejection was confidence in who I am in Christ.

The gift wrapped in the blackness of sin was a profound appreciation for God’s holiness.

The gifts wrapped in poverty were dependence on God and resourcefulness.

The gifts wrapped in illness were dependence on others and sensitivity.

The gift wrapped in the ache of homesickness and culture shock was a thirst for more of God.

2013 has been a year rich in gifts—

The gift wrapped in pressure is productivity.

The gift wrapped in spiritual conflict is heightened discernment.

The gift wrapped in mismanagement is wisdom (for next time).

The gifts wrapped in waiting are perseverance and trust.

The gift wrapped in failure is grace for others and myself.

The gift wrapped in confrontation is humility and grace.

The gift wrapped in injustice is identification with Christ.

The gift wrapped in isolation is the sweetness of His presence.

The gift wrapped in correction is growth.

The gift wrapped in suffering is empathy.

The gift wrapped in layer after layer of disappointment is a well-worn path of prayer to the throne (a path that gets easier and easier to find).

These are gifts I wouldn’t wish on anybody. They are miserable to receive. On the other hand, once we receive them with thanks we become stronger, richer, deeper, and softer. At some point we see ourselves in the mirror and realize that we are not who we once were. These gifts we didn’t want have transformed us. Most importantly, we are profoundly aware that we cannot do life on our own. We need Him. Desperately. And that’s the best place to be.

What gifts has God given you this year?

[note: If you clicked on any of the links in this post, you probably noticed that God started preparing me for 2013 a long time ago. As hard as it was, 2004 cleared out the underbrush so that I could find a path to God through suffering—a path I have trod repeatedly this year. He is a good God, and His gifts are unmatched.]

Clayton Keenon: the gospel according to Leviticus

Clayton Keenon delivered the third message in Wheaton's grad chapel series, "The Gospel according to Moses," offering an up-close look at one of our least favorite books of the Bible: Leviticus. If you have been bored, baffled, or grossed out by Leviticus, this message is for you! Clayton explained the big idea of Leviticus this way: Here's what needs to happen when God moves into the neighborhood.

I can just about guarantee this will be the most enlightening and refreshing 25 minutes of your week!

So far the series has included messages by Dr. John Walton on Genesis and Dr. Philip Ryken on Exodus. Next week I'll post my own chapel message on Numbers, followed by Dr. Daniel Block on Deuteronomy.

gifts at low tide (redivivus)

I've been thinking a lot lately about a very difficult season Danny and I went through almost 10 years ago. We were in the Philippines, desperate for resolution to our questions and longings. Thankfully, the lessons we learned in that spiritual desert prepared us to face similar seasons since then. Perhaps you, too, are at low tide. If so I hope this story (taken from my old blog) will encourage you. Our heavenly Father doesn't waste a thing.

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Photo from the Whatcom County Website

We had been driving along the coast for miles, in search of the perfect view. Washington State has a lot of beautiful coastline, but so far we had seen mostly mud littered with boats. The tide must have been at an all time low. Just when we had gone about as far as you can go without crossing the border into Canada, we stumbled upon a huge viewing deck overlooking a bay behind an exclusive resort. There were no fences or fees, so we stopped and climbed out to survey the scene. Little did we know that the treasures awaiting us would be below, not beyond the deck.

A floating dock skirted the deck, it's steep ramp nearly pitching us forward into the bay. We found the shadows below the viewing deck pungent and fishy. It took only a moment to figure out why. Rows of solid wood columns had been anchored into the ocean floor, supporting the deck above. Clinging to each log above the waterline were dozens and dozens of sea creatures - brown sea anemone, folded closed for lack of moisture; bright purple and pink starfish, each stretching a foot in diameter; mussels, clamped shut. Just under the surface hairy anemones floated and swayed in the current. Nearly transparent jellyfish pulsed past, freeform. I can't say that it was beautiful, but for someone who grew up in a landlocked state, this quick stop was proving to be quite an education! Because of the unusually low tide, we were getting a rare glimpse of the ocean's hidden life.

Photo Courtesy of This Website

Why do I bother retelling this odd experience? As we explored that day, I was reminded of my own inner searching these past months. Being at low tide emotionally and spiritually has not been fun. The odors of selfishness and impatience have often been dominant; "dying to self" does not smell (or feel!) nice. Parts of my personality that used to be vibrant have folded in upon themselves for lack of water. Gifts and skills once fully functional have clamped shut, ill-suited for life on land. But despite these 'losses', I've received blessings that rarely come at 'high tide'. Unexplored areas of my soul have been exposed. I am less self-confident, but freer. Rather than fearing what lies hidden within myself or others, I have found a new contentment, knowing that whatever is discovered there is not beyond His ability to transform into something beautiful.

I do not understand my own soul fully. I cannot pretend to have seen everything that lies beneath the surface. But I know He is there, healing and loving me. And that is making all the difference.

Tuesday Tidbit: a "proud humility"

I'm reading H. Richard Niebuhr's Christ and Culture for a class by that name with Dr. Daniel Treier that begins this morning. Niebuhr's description of Christ's humility is striking:

"The humility of Jesus is humility before God, and can only be understood as the humility of the Son. He neither exhibited nor commended and communicated the humility of inferiority-feeling before other men. Before Pharisees, high priests, Pilate, and 'that fox' Herod he showed a confidence that had no trace of self-abnegation. Whatever my be true of his Messianic self-consciousness, he spoke with authority and acted with confidence of power. When he repudiated the title of 'Good Master' he did not defer to other rabbis better than himself, but said, 'No one is good but God alone.' There is no condescension in his life toward the sinners, such as might mark an insecure or apologetic man. His humility is of the sort that raises to a new sense of dignity and worth those who have been humiliated by the defensive pretentions of the 'good' and the 'righteous.' It is a kind of proud humility and humble pride, which can be called paradoxical only if the relation to God as the fundamental relation in his life is left out of the account. It is wholly different from all the modesties and diffidences that mark men's efforts to accommodate themselves to their own and each others' superiority-feelings, it is also wholly different from that wise Greek virtue of remaining within one's limits lest the jealous gods destroy their potential rivals. The humility of Christ is not the moderation of keeping one's exact place in the scale of being, but rather that of absolute dependence on God and absolute trust in Him, with the consequent ability to remove mountains. The secret of the meekness and the gentleness of Christ lies in his relation to God." (26–27 in the edition pictured, emphasis mine)

We often think of humility as self-abasement. But as Niebuhr points out here, true humility has nothing to do with self. True humility is rooted in "absolute dependence on God and absolute trust in Him."

Tuesday Tidbit: identifying spiritual handicaps

"We have replaced
repentance with blessing,
discipleship with joy,
servanthood with power,
vulnerability with predictability,
and seeking with success.
Our spiritual handicap is that we are empty
when we think we are full."

-Charles Ringma, Dare to Journey with Henri Nouwen, reflection 94

Spiritual Life of Missionaries: Lessons Learned from the Field

If you're new to my blog, then you might not know that Danny and I have been missionaries with SIM for the past 10 years. I was recently asked to share with undergraduate students at Wheaton on the topic of spiritual formation for missionaries. I thought that perhaps some of you would appreciate hearing our story as well. Living in the Philippines was very difficult for us spiritually, not so much because of Filipino language, culture, or climate, though learning to live there had its challenges. The biggest challenges for us were internal, related to our expectations and identity, and missional, related to our roles and opportunities for service. I hope that our story is helpful to you in some way!
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Danny and I were model candidates for missions. We were both Bible college graduates with supportive families and a strong sending church. We had experience in short-term missions and in church ministry. We were considered “strong Christians” by all who knew us. We passed our psychological and other evaluations with flying colors. We set a new record in SIM: In less than 12 months we had completed all of SIM’s pre-field training requirements, sold or stored all of our worldly goods, raised all of our support, and were on a plane bound for the Philippines. Our vision was crystal clear: we were going to see a reproducing church planted among a minority ethnic group in the Philippines.  Danny would serve our SIM team by handling the administrative tasks that bogged them down. I would engage in outreach and eventually Bible teaching and discipleship. We planned to stay a really long time.

But then we landed in Manila and reality hit. Learning Tagalog would not be easy. Sweating all the time was not fun. Our team was spread out across a sprawling metropolis with some of the worst traffic jams in the world. We were isolated, lonely, and discouraged. But worst of all, after a grueling year of language study, it was no longer clear to us how we could even help. Danny’s administrative tasks only took him a few hours per month. Our team was too small to need a full-time administrator, and SIM was actively considering whether any more westerners should even be sent to the Philippines. I tried no less than 7 different ministries inside the local neighborhood where our target people group lived. Every one of them was a flop.

We thought we were going to the Philippines use our gifts to build God’s kingdom. But we were frustrated at every turn. Danny is most fully alive when he is in some kind of helping role -- working behind the scenes to make things happen (which is why I’m here speaking while he is shuttling our kids between school and after-school activities) -- but Filipinos wouldn’t let him set up chairs or clean up after an event. Such tasks are too menial for a white man. And our western teammates didn’t actually need his help. It was very debilitating for him. I, on the other hand, had gone to teach, but for the first time in my life I sensed very strongly that God was asking me to keep my mouth shut. It was time to learn. As time dragged on my confidence gradually drained away. I began to doubt if I had anything worth saying.

I remember very distinctly one day walking in the tropical heat down a crowded street to the open market to do my shopping. I looked at the street vendors lining the sidewalk … watched them arranging their goods. I knew they would be lucky to make 50 pesos of profit in a day, and that they had left their babies home in the care of older siblings, some only 5 or 6 years old. At any moment the police could show up and clear the place out. Sidewalk vending was illegal. But it was the only way they could find to survive. Suddenly I felt very empty. What did I have to offer that these people actually needed? My sophisticated methods of Bible study were useless to them. Their modes of thinking and learning were almost entirely oral. Their focus was on survival. What’s more, they were already cheerful, generous, selfless. When I looked deep inside myself, I saw no great reserves of those qualities, or any others that would give evidence of a spirit-empowered life -- joy, faith, peace, gentleness, self-control. Spiritually-speaking I was just about bankrupt.

About a year after we arrived in the Philippines, I wrote this poem in my journal and later posted it on my (old) blog. It will give you a window on my heart in that very dry and difficult season.

empty

before I journeyed here
my heart was full
  ideas
    skills
      techniques
        strategies
now I sojourn
far from home
emptied of all I once knew
        nameless
      voiceless
    useless?
afraid that before I find
my voice in this culture
I will have nothing left to say
what was profound and meaningful before
now seems
        out-of-touch
      foreign
    irrelevant
  unneeded
so, Lord, I sit here
empty
like the jars at Cana lacking wine
thirsty for You to fill me again
with your living water
so I can pour
into the lives You've gathered
around me

Come, Lord Jesus,
do your miracle in me.

God’s answer to my prayer was not what I expected. There was no instant miracle. I hoped for overflowing joy or successful ministry opportunities or at least peace that we were on the right track. He gave us none of these. But he did give us a gift that we learned to treasure – his gift was longing. Danny and I became desperate for God. We were constantly and painfully aware of our own weaknesses, our inabilities, our absolute need for Him. We lived every day for months on end with an ache in our souls that would not go away. A craving for God to do something. A thirst for his presence. And we waited. We waited beyond what we thought we could bear and then waited some more.

During that lonely season, authors—dead ones, even—became some of my most trusted spiritual guides. Henri Nouwen, Larry Crabb, Lettie Cowman.

Henri Nouwen taught me (in his books Wounded Healer and Reaching Out) that ministers of the gospel must be unafraid to venture into the depths of their own soul so that they can lead others to wholeness in a fragmented world. Being broken is not the end of ministry, it is the surest beginning. I was certainly broken, and I did not like what I saw in my own soul. But Nouwen said this was as it should be.

Larry Crabb’s book Shattered Dreams also ministered to me deeply. In it he wrestles with the same questions we were asking. He wonders out loud why God allows suffering: "He could do something. Yet He does nothing, at least not what we ask Him to do. Why? To deepen our desire for His Presence, to strengthen our passion to pursue Him, to help us see how preoccupied we are with filling our God-shaped souls with something less than God." (121)

Crabb says, "When God seems most absent from us, He is doing His most important work in us." (157) I clung to the hope that somehow God was using our isolation and struggle to do something deep in us.

Lettie Cowman’s Streams in the Desert was also a source of hope. I learned that some of God’s most precious gifts can only come to us wrapped in suffering. There is simply no other way to receive them. God does not delight in our pain, but he delights in the deep work that he is able to do in us in the midst of that pain. "There are blessings we can never have unless we are ready to pay the price of pain. There is no way to reach them save through suffering." (Sept 19, quoting Dr. Miller)

My season of silence did not end until we came home from the Philippines. It was the longest two and a half years of our lives. Eventually SIM recommended that we change fields and serve where Danny’s skills were more critically needed. We returned to the states and moved to Charlotte, NC where Danny began working for a new ministry of SIM based out of the International office. The six years we spent there were some of our richest and happiest years. Everything seemed to go our way. Our kids had great schools, we found a great church, lived in a great house in a great neighborhood with great neighbors. I got to go to seminary, which I absolutely loved. Danny’s job with SIM was a perfect fit for his personality and gifting. After six years in Charlotte God opened the door for me to continue my education here at Wheaton. I’m working on a PhD in Old Testament under Dr. Block. Once again our situation is totally ideal – house, schools, jobs, everything. Danny has been able to continue serving in his role with SIM remotely, and this year we’re approaching our 10-year anniversary of service with SIM.

We are of course relieved to have moved out of a dry and difficult season of life and ministry. But happiness has its drawbacks. I have carried with me a deep sense of appreciation for the spiritual desert that we lived in for 2 years in the Philippines. I met God in a powerful way, ironically, through his “absence.” I discovered new things about myself, my own limitations, and my desperate need for the Savior. That gift never comes through success and victory and ease. It only comes wrapped in suffering. And it has changed me, I hope, forever.

Halloween: should Christians participate?

This is a controversial issue. My husband, Danny, posted a question about Halloween on Facebook, and within a day or two there were several dozen comments. Here's the way I see it:

I can discern at least four approaches Christians might take to the Halloween question.

1. Full Participation. Those who take this approach typically argue that dressing up and eating candy are "good, clean fun." If there is a dark history to this "holiday," it is no longer relevant today because people don't think of Halloween in those terms. Both Danny and I grew up with this mindset. My family dressed up and went trick-or-treating until I was 11 or 12. I was even a witch one year! When I was in junior high we started to become aware of the reality of Satan and his work in the world, and the idea of pretending to be witches or ghosts very quickly lost its appeal.

2. Alternative Events. In the Pacific Northwest, it's very common for churches to offer an alternative event where kids can come and have fun without the danger of trick-or-treating through dark neighborhoods or encountering scary costumes. When Danny and I moved to Charlotte we were surprised to find that no churches in our area offered alternative "harvest" events. This forced us to rethink our own stance towards Halloween. We could either hide in the back room or participate.

3. Missional Participation. We decided then that Halloween was an opportunity to build memories with our neighbors, deepen our roots in the neighborhood, and minimize the "weirdness" of Christianity. The first year, we gave out mini water bottles to trick-or-treaters with a printed labels that read,

"Thirsty from all that candy?

'Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again,

but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst.

Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water

welling up to eternal life.'" 

- Jesus (John 4:13-14)

Another year we gave out little flashlights that said "Jesus is the light." After 3 or 4 years of participation, though, we began to wonder if it was really making any difference. We'd rather our kids not be out where they can be exposed to hideous costumes. Even though it's just "pretend" it can be traumatic for kids to be confronted with gruesome, evil masks.

4. No Participation. And that's why we're toying with the idea of having a simple family night on Halloween. Why participate at all in a "holiday" that celebrates what is dark and gruesome and scary? Our Jehovah's Witness friends seem to have happy, well-adjusted children, even without letting them trick-or-treat. Will our children really be worse off if we abstain?

I don't think there is one right answer for Christians. As one friend pointed out on Facebook, it's possible to participate in Halloween yet have a well-developed understanding of the reality and danger of evil. He argued that Halloween has largely lost its connection to its pagan roots. A comic from the latest Christianity Today magazine depicts pagans who are disgruntled over the commercialization of their sacred day. Just as we insist on recognizing the real meaning of the Christmas holiday, so I think we ought to take seriously the historical significance of Halloween.

I'd like to suggest a couple of questions that Christians could be asking as they wrestle with this issue.

What does Halloween mean in our context?
What will our level of participation communicate to our neighbors?
How does our level of participation affect children (ours or those we come in contact with)?
Would Jesus be comfortable joining our family on Oct 31?
Most importantly, how can we represent him well this season?

There is not one right answer to these questions. It will depend on your situation and the specific sphere of ministry to which you are called. As you discuss these issues, you might find the following Scriptures helpful: Deuteronomy 18:9-13; Romans 14; Philippians 4:8; 1 Peter 4:14-16.

"And whatever you do, whether in word or deed,

do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus,

giving thanks to God the Father through him."

Colossians 3:17

find and replace

I have officially finished my Masters thesis [insert huge sigh of relief]. It has been an exciting project to work on in many ways, but the past few days have been swallowed up by the most tedious of tasks: editing. Each of the 81 pages, 201 footnotes, and 35,000 words had to be carefully checked for errors.

Yesterday I was counting my blessings as I used "find and replace" to locate every instance where I had two spaces and needed only one, every time I capitalized the word gentiles or scripture (and shouldn't have), and every place where I wrote out a whole word like "Exodus" when I should have abbreviated. I would still be sitting here editing were it not for the terrific programmer who invented "find and replace." God bless him or her!

It made me think.  Wouldn't it be nice to have a "find and replace" function for life?  I would love to "find" all the messes in my house and replace them with "order."
..."find" exhaustion and "replace" it with energy.
..."find" impatience and "replace" it with gentleness.
..."find" stress and "replace" it with peace.
..."find" greed and "replace" it with contentment.
..."find" grumpiness and "replace" it with joy.
..."find" conflict and "replace" it with unity.
..."find" pride and "replace" it with humility.
..."find" unforgiveness and "replace" it with grace.

Then it hit me. We do have a "find and replace" function for life. His name is the Holy Spirit. And He delights to search our hard drive to help us become who we were meant to be, if we will submit to the sometimes painful and often tedious process of "finding" and "replacing" what is there.

"Search me, God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting."
Psalm 139:23-24

"Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions.
Wash away all my iniquity
and cleanse me from my sin."
Psalm 51:1-2

Come, Holy Spirit, and edit my life.

a divine appointment

Last year at ETS I experienced a rapid succession of divine appointments for 3 days straight.  This year felt different because I did a lot of leg work ahead of time to set up appointments with 10 different scholars.  That pretty much filled my schedule, but I prayed that God would orchestrate any other run-ins that I ought to have while I was there.  One of my most treasured divine appointments was with Edsar.

My roommates and I had headed to the mall next door to grab a quick lunch between conference papers.  The food court was packed, and there was simply no way to find 3 seats together that were not directly beside other people eating.  So the 3 of us sat side-by-side across the table from a young man who was eating Chick-fil-A for lunch.  He smiled and noticed our name tags.

"Are you all here for the theology thing going on at the Hilton?"

"Yes, we are."

"Can you tell me what it is?  I mean, like who comes to it?  Is it something for Christians?"

This started a lengthy conversation about theology.  Edsar had a few questions about the Bible that he had been saving up for just such an occasion.  He wanted to know how we got the books in the Bible that we have, and if anything might have been left out.  He was curious how the decisions were made.  Brittany, my conference roommate from Wheaton, did a great job explaining the process of canonization.  Then, under the direct inspiration of the Holy Spirit, she asked Edsar a question:

"May I ask what prompted you to start thinking about these issues?"

It was the perfect question.  We had both assumed that his questions stemmed from bestselling books like The DaVinci Code or some prime time fixation with the "Lost Gospels."  They had not.  Edsar opened up to us, sharing that he had grown up in the church but had recently come to terms with the fact that he is gay.  He knows what the Bible says about homosexual behavior, and he still believes it should be our authority, but he is wrestling deeply with the questions about God.

"How could a loving God create me like this, and then condemn me for it?"

It was a moment drenched in grace.  We all felt it.  Brittany and I affirmed him as a man created in God's image, and that his question is both deeply personal and very important.  We expressed that all of us are affected by our "fallenness" in different ways.  Some are tempted in areas of anger, some by heterosexual lust, some by gluttony. Homosexual behavior is no worse than other areas of sin.  People feel strong desires to do many things that are contrary to God's will.  Desire is not an indication of the rightness of a behavior. 

I told him that we had wrestled in similar ways as women who loved the Bible and felt a strong pull to teach it.  The Bible clearly states that women should not teach, and I have often asked, "God, why would you give me such a strong desire to teach the Bible if I'm not allowed to do it?"  It's a question that cuts to the core of our gender, our identity, and our search to find our place in the grand scheme of things.

Because he was an intelligent guy who would not be put off by an academic book, I recommended one that has been helpful to me: Slaves, Women and Homosexuals by William Webb.  Webb looks at all three issues (slavery, women's roles, and homosexuality) as they are presented in Scripture and concludes that we must follow the trajectory of Scripture beyond what the Bible actually says.  Because the Bible was written to particular people in a particular cultural setting, we cannot assume that the specific prohibitions are timeless or that behavior found in the Bible should always be emulated. This could be a problematic approach in other areas, but with these three issues Webb's conclusions are sound. 

• The Bible does not condemn slavery outright, but it was right for us to outlaw it. 
• The Bible says explicitly that women shouldn't teach, but we are right to affirm women as teachers, even of men.  (If you want to know why you'll have to read the book.  This is a post about homosexuality, not slavery or women!)
• Homosexuality, though, is unilaterally condemned in Scripture.  There is no 'movement' or 'trajectory' that would allow for a change in position on this issue.  About the time that Paul wrote the books of Romans, homosexuality was being exalted as the epitome of love,  yet he is clear that it is contrary to God's will (see Romans 1).

I hope that we communicated this in as loving and gentle way as possible.  We encouraged him that this is his own journey, and that he would have to wrestle with the issues for himself.  Each of us is on a journey to become more like Jesus, and the process of becoming more like him can be painful.  Brittany urged him to bring his questions right to God and seek out his answers.  We told him we'd be praying for him.  And we did, on our way back to the hotel.  We just couldn't go another step without praying for that dear brother who was willing to give us a glimpse into his soul.  It was a great reminder that the study of theology has a huge bearing on everyday life.  May each of us have many more divine appointments such as this one.