curiosity and color

The funny thing about calling into question the accepted understanding of a tertiary issue (as I have done over the last year or so, regarding the status of women in Christian spaces) is that you find out how many people actually hold it as a secondary doctrine—or even almost primary. Not because they really believe that what I think about the “role” of women in churches and marriages has any bearing on my standing before God (I don’t think?), but because our whole culture currently runs on extremes, and we generally don’t know how to handle the idea that gray area or other interpretations exist. Especially as it regards things of God and the Bible.

Of all things, surely these, at least, must be black-and-white.

Right?

I certainly used to think so. But the more time I’ve spent poring over the pages of the Bible and listening to the Spirit that brings them to life, the less I’ve been able to retain that monochrome worldview. Do we really think that the nature of God and His glorious design for Creation and humanity and the kingdom of heaven can be described without a full scope of color and light? Ezekiel tried to tell us what it was like to witness just one brief vision of God’s glory, and the passage is bursting with color:

Something like a throne with the appearance of lapis lazuli was above the expanse over their heads. On the throne, high above, was someone who looked like a human. From what seemed to be his waist up, I saw a gleam like amber, with what looked like fire enclosing it all around. From what seemed to be his waist down, I also saw what looked like fire. There was a brilliant light all around him. The appearance of the brilliant light all around was like that of a rainbow in a cloud on a rainy day. This was the appearance of the likeness of the Lord’s glory. When I saw it, I fell facedown and heard a voice speaking.

Ezekiel 1:26-28

It gives me pause to recall how much of my life I’ve spent limiting how God is “allowed” to act in my life, in the church, or in the world. We build our tidy sets of theological walls, made from little rows of black words on a white page, to contain our gods—proof-texting and cherry-picking and forgetting altogether that the true God operates in another dimension, where our comfortable boundaries are meaningless.

In that realm, color and creativity and living water flood out from every crevice. Curiosity is rewarded with wonder. Ask, and receive—seek, and find. The Father God reveals His heart. The Savior Jesus wins our access. The Holy Spirit beckons us in.

It’s a new and better Eden, lush with the Creator’s life-giving presence and heart-changing glory. He is abundant, and abundantly generous, giving us Himself.

God forbid we wait around to die instead of taking hold of the victory and living like citizens of that kingdom now! Abiding in the nurture of God’s heart is for today. Abiding in the triumph of Christ’s defeat of sin and death is for today. Abiding in the tranquility of the Spirit’s voice is for today.

We’ve met the true God. Can we stop trying to shrink Him down into the form of a golden calf?

We’ve been set free, made new by grace. Can we actually shake off our chains and stop fearing what it means to live without the tutelage of the law?

We’ve been adopted as daughters and sons into the Royal Family! Can we please stop acting like we’re still banished and cursed?

I know that we haven’t entered the full reality of Christ’s victory yet. But that seems like a poor excuse to actively choose a life characterized by defeat or narrow-mindedness. The Spirit of God—who raised Jesus from the dead!—lives in us. Hallelujah!

Let’s wonder at these truths, and fear not our wondering, because if God is good and holy, He will reveal His goodness and holiness in response to our honest curiosity. And then, even here on earth, we might get to see hints of heaven’s glorious color.

the God of Genesis

I’ve been reading through the Bible in 180 days almost every year since I got married 10 years ago. It’s been so good—flying high over the surface of God’s Word from January to the end of June, sometimes with a large group of fellow readers and sometimes with a small one. Some years it’s been lots of audio Bible; some years it’s been pages of personal notetaking; some years it’s been writing out insights daily or weekly for those reading along with me. I’ve learned so much about the structure of the Bible, the character of God, and the story of Jesus as the Savior of Creation.

With that big-picture foundation in place, I knew it was finally time to dive deep again. And what better place to start than the prologue of the story?

Every day in January, I read through Genesis 1-11, discovering questions and curiosities, noticing truths about who God is, learning new things about who God made me to be, and realizing what a different world we could all live in if we knew the God of Genesis.

He’s a God of order.

The Creation story doesn’t tell us how He made a material universe out of a blank void, but rather how His Spirit formed an orderly world out of a chaotic wasteland. He carefully separated out the different components of the world—light from darkness, sky from waters, land from seas, day from night—and grouped together the different life forms into their kinds: vegetation, sea creatures, birds, and animals. The pinnacle of it all, human beings who were made in His likeness, He created as one and yet also in two: male and female.

He wants to collaborate with humans.

Instead of creating the earth to be a space for Him to practice dictatorial tyranny, He commissioned His image bearers to rule over it together and to participate in the ongoing activities of life-making and ground-working.

He is a gentle parent.

When His image bearers were deceived and betrayed Him, He didn’t get angry. He didn’t make harsh threats. He didn’t leave them alone to think about what they’d done, He didn’t strike them dead on the spot, He didn’t shame them for their stupidity or their nakedness. Instead, God sought them out, heard them, cared for them, and covered their shame.

He models both grace and boundaries.

There were clear consequences for Adam and Eve’s sin, and they were upheld graciously as protective boundaries, not punitively as wrathful punishment. The same gracious boundaries led to the catastrophic Flood—not because God hated or wanted to destroy what He had made, but because the earth was so corrupted that it must be cleansed.

He is clear and direct.

We don’t have to guess or infer or hope to figure out what He wants. When He called humankind to rule over Creation, He said it directly and repeated it several times. When He received Cain’s subpar offering, He clearly communicated how Cain could do what was right. When He made a covenant with Noah, He spelled out the exact terms.

There is so much more, an endless wealth of truth to be mined from these first eleven chapters of the Bible. This month, I’m zeroing in on Genesis 1, and already overwhelmed by the beauty of how God created our world and how the Spirit inspired the Biblical authors to record it.

If you want to join me in any of this, here’s the plan I made (and here’s the notetaking journal I’m using):

  • January: Read Genesis 1-11 daily

  • February: Read Genesis 1 daily, and Genesis 1-11 weekly

  • March: Read Genesis 2 daily, and Genesis 1-11 weekly

  • April: Read Genesis 3 daily, and Genesis 1-11 weekly

  • May: Read Genesis 4 daily, and Genesis 1-11 weekly

  • June: Read Genesis 5 daily, and Genesis 1-11 weekly

  • July: Read Genesis 6 daily, and Genesis 1-11 weekly

  • August: Read Genesis 7 daily, and Genesis 1-11 weekly

  • September: Read Genesis 8 daily, and Genesis 1-11 weekly

  • October: Read Genesis 9 daily, and Genesis 1-11 weekly

  • November: Read Genesis 10 daily, and Genesis 1-11 weekly

  • December: Read Genesis 11 daily, and Genesis 1-11 weekly

one God and one mediator

My very favorite childhood movie is the original Pirates of the Caribbean. Toward the climax of that iconic film, when Captain Jack Sparrow is attempting to double-cross both Commodore Norrington and Captain Barbossa so that he can secure his freedom, his ship, and his revenge in one fell swoop, the Royal Navy soldier Murtogg asks, “Why aren’t we doin’ what—what Mr. Sparrow said? With the cannons and all?”

Commodore Norrington responds, “Because it was Mr. Sparrow who said it.”

Since I started writing out and publicly sharing my thought process for how and why I’ve shifted away from my long-held belief in strict complementarianism, I’ve had the privilege of participating in some fascinating conversations with both men and women on this topic—some of them in agreement (or at least open to agreement) with me, and some of them strongly disagreeing.

But one common, and unfortunately unsurprising, theme has emerged from these conversations which I think illustrates the insidiousness of the complementarian doctrine: Wise and God-fearing women are becoming suspicious of their own communication with God through the Holy Spirit solely “because it was a woman who said it,” as if the Holy Spirit can only speak and act in their lives through the umbrella authority of a man.

And that’s dangerous territory.

“For there is one God and one mediator between God and humanity, Christ Jesus, Himself human.”

1 Timothy 2:5 HCSB

For example, I’ve noticed that when Christian women talk about their role as wives or women of the church, they will invariably think of some instance where they weren’t “submissive enough” to male authority, and things didn’t go well for them. Even women I’ve spoken with who knew they were being called by God and equipped with His wisdom would see something go awry and think, “This is because I’m trying to lead, and I shouldn’t be, because I’m a woman.”

Or wives who have had serious reservations about their husband’s choices for their family would simply go along with it, things would turn out okay, and they’d think, “God blessed me because I obeyed my husband, even when he was being foolish.”

Thus, submission is no longer a beautiful opportunity for each of us to voluntarily imitate Christ toward one another (as Paul teaches in Philippians 2 and Ephesians 5), but rather a weapon that anyone can whip out to slash holes in a woman’s trust in the voice of the Spirit who dwells within her. It’s the serpent in the Garden all over again: “Did God really say…?” And to question the questioning just comes across as even greater defiance. So we are silenced.

But I’m done being silent, so I’ll ask anyway: What if some of the things that went wrong under the woman’s leadership happened not because she shouldn’t have been leading but because, unlike Barak when he followed Deborah, the men “under” her lacked the humility to follow her? Or because things simply go wrong sometimes, no matter who is in charge?

And what if God has called a wife to protect her home and family even when it means putting her foot down on her husband’s foolishness, like Abigail when she defied Nabal? What if wifely submission is actually not another facet of prosperity theology, directly proportional to the measure of your blessing?

When we teach that the primary role of women is subjection to men (at minimum, to their own husbands), we inevitably end up with men who feel very little need to actively seek the guidance of God (because it’s implied that they have God’s blessing on their decisions simply by being male) and with women who feel they need not only the guidance of God, but must also take the extra step of getting approval from their husbands or other relevant male authority figures. The ultimate result across the board is that the voice of God Himself is diminished or even dismissed.

Hear me when I say: A wife’s submission to her husband is good. A husband’s submission to his wife is good. Christians’ submission to fellow Christians, to Christ, and to worldly governments and authorities is good. Submissiveness, humility, and peacemaking are key characteristics of Christ and outworkings of the Spirit that Paul encouraged the early churches to strive for.

Pigeonholing all women into a place of perpetual, one-sided, mandated submission to their husbands and/or other men merely because they are women is not good. At best, it leads to an unhealthy hierarchical dynamic that makes it difficult, if not impossible, to reflect the full image of God. And at worst, it sets human men in the place of Christ as mediators between women and God, leading to deception, disobedience, abuse, and even idolatry.

Let us tread carefully.