church

Notable News: Week of June 8-14, 2013

Happy Friday! Here at our house, this is the last Friday of the school year (for the kids, anyway). They’re done as of next Wednesday. I’m glad, because I need a vacation. The nice thing about the school calendar is that just when I’m starting to feel burned out, we get another break. I’m going to be making the most of mine, that’s for sure.

Here are the cool (and not-so-cool) things I read this week:

1. The “question” of consent

Dianna Anderson has a fantastic post on dignity and not treating people as questions to be answered. She rightly points out the inherent problem of calling consent a question and where the Church must tread lightly in regard to ideas open to debate. Ironically, the same day I read this post, I read another one in which the writer cheerily talks about wanting to interact with “the gay community” in order to demonstrate how loving she is–all while simultaneously referring to “the gay lifestyle” as being outside God’s perfect design. Guess that writer didn’t read Dianna’s post first.

2. The “question” of breadwinning wives

I highly recommend you make time to read all of Danielle’s response to Mary Kassian’s post on breadwinning wives. I particularly liked the second part, My Marriage Is Not a Form of Prostitution. In parallel, I’ve seen couples treat marriage this way outside of the career/financial angle–a lot of people seem to think that it’s an acceptable transaction to trade sex for goods and services. I’m not convinced that’s a healthy view of marriage.

3. Questions for N. T. Wright

If you’re a fan of Wright’s work, you may be interested in his responses to readers’ questions on Rachel Held Evans’ blog.

4. The “question” of women teaching

This is a great read from Laura Ziesel about the illogical view of women as “more easily deceived.” I have long held that not only can we not determine exactly when a boy is too old to be taught by a woman (many churches arbitrarily use 18), we also have the stupid view that a 70-year-old life-long woman of faith cannot teach a young, inexperienced barely adult male of 18 or 21. Now there’s another one–that women, being weaker and more easily deceived, should probably not be teaching children, either. What a load of manure; thanks, Laura, for pointing that out.

5. Questions for a couple coping with chronic illness

This is an interesting interview with a couple in which the wife has endometriosis. I appreciate the wisdom in recommending that the Church develop healthier ways to talk about sex and relationships, especially given the fact that it’s never one-size-fits-all.

6. The “question” of PDA

Yeah, I admit I’m one of those people who prefers that couples not stick their tongues down each others’ throats in public or grope each other under their clothes on the beach. But a little kissin’? Heck no, that doesn’t bother me. It makes me just want to scream whenever I see someone on social media write,

I’m not homophobic, but I really don’t need to see two guys kissing.

I get it that some people don’t like PDA, but until everyone starts pointing it out when they see a het couple doing it, then those people really need to keep that thought to themselves. Anyway, go read this article about couples who were asked to leave for PDA and then try to tell me it’s not homophobia.

7. Love isn’t a question

My fellow writer Aaron Smith has written a beautiful guest post over on Registered Runaway’s blog. He says it all; I have nothing to add.

8. A question of point of view

Novelist Adrian Smith explains using second person. I do it all the freakin’ time, on this blog and in casual speech, but I’ve never written a story in second person. When done well, it’s good; when done poorly, it’s awful. See if you can make it work. (See what I did there?)

9. The “question” of modesty

Oh, dear Lord, here we go again. We women don’t know what we “do” to men. Apparently, they have to repeat the internal mantra, “Don’t think about boobs don’t think about boobs don’t think about boobs dammit I’m thinking about boobs.” This just seriously creeps me out, because I don’t think I know any men who really have these issues, but a few who do have managed to convince a whole generation of young men that they do, too. So gross.

10. A question for Cheerio-despising racists

At the end of this spoof of the Cheerios ad with the biracial couple, the question is: “What? Now this is a problem?” Go watch it and share the funny with your friends.

11. A story with a question

I’m not entirely sure what happens after the end of my story for Fiction Friday. I’ll let you decide.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

The Smokin’ Hot Wives Club

Marriage

I wonder where all these pastors are learning to use social media to tell the world about their sexy wives?

Note: If some of these people seem familiar, that’s because they are. We may see them again in the future.

Jeff was up, showered, dressed, and seated at the kitchen table with the newspaper when Moira entered the kitchen. He looked up and smiled at her.

“You’re up early,” he remarked.

“Mm. Didn’t you have that breakfast this morning? I figured I should be up in case the kids needed anything.” She flung herself into a chair and slouched over the table.

“Yeah. I need to leave in about ten minutes. You want me to make you some coffee first?”

“Nah, that’s okay. I can do it in a minute.” She yawned.

“All right. I’m going to go finish getting ready, then.” Jeff rose from the table and leaned over to give Moira a quick peck on the cheek. He felt her smile at his touch. “I’ll see you around ten-thirty.”

“Okay. I think the kids wanted to go see a movie today. If the rain doesn’t clear up, that’s probably a good idea.”

“Sure.”

Jeff returned to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He thought about the men’s breakfast he’d been invited to attend. It didn’t sound too bad—just a bunch of guys sitting around talking about stuff. He remembered Doug saying something about the topic being “communication,” whatever that meant. Doug hadn’t been specific; all he’d told Jeff was to meet him at his church at eight on Saturday morning. Jeff replaced his toothbrush, tidied up the bathroom, and was ready to be on his way.

Inside the double doors at the entrance of the church was a small sign with an arrow pointing down a short flight of stairs. It read, “Men’s Breakfast.” Jeff followed the sign into a large room with a tile floor and several round tables. He looked for Doug, but he didn’t see him anywhere. Jeff hung back a bit, unsure what to do with himself.

A tall, broad-shouldered man approached him. “Are you new here?” he asked.

“Sort of,” Jeff responded. “I don’t really go to this church. I was invited here by a friend.”

“Ah. Yeah, we’ve only been here a few weeks ourselves,” the man said. He extended his hand. “I’m Bill.”

Jeff accepted Bill’s hand. “Jeff.”

“I’ve never been to one of these,” Bill said. “We were at a different church, but it was a little—let’s just say it wasn’t for us.”

Jeff didn’t press the issue; he merely nodded. “It happens.”

At that moment, Doug appeared at Jeff’s side. “Hey! Glad you could make it. We’re about to start, so let’s grab seats.”

“Uh, sure.” Jeff turned to Bill. “Want to join us?”

“All right.”

They took seats at one of the tables close to the front. There were already several men at the table. Jeff had been hoping to sit further back, in case he decided to leave, but Doug seemed to have other plans. No sooner had they situated themselves than a muscular man with dark hair, slightly graying at the temples, stood up.

“Good morning!” the man began in a booming voice. He hardly needed the microphone he held in his hand. “I’m Richard, and we’re starting something new in our Breakfast with the Lord series. For the next few months, we’re going to be discussing how to communicate with and about our women!”

There was raucous applause and a few whistles. Jeff made a half-hearted attempt to clap and glanced at Doug and Bill. Doug looked enthusiastic, but Bill’s expression reminded Jeff a bit of exactly how he was feeling himself—wary and confused. Jeff shook his head and tried to concentrate. He decided to keep an open mind.

“All right. Now, the first rule we have here is that what we say stays in this room. We want to create healthy boundaries, am I right?”

Jeff leaned across the man to his right to whisper to Doug, “Is this a twelve-step program of some sort?”

Doug just scowled and murmured, “Sh.”

Richard continued, “This morning, we’re going to learn about the difference between flattering women and complimenting them. We’re going to have the chance to put some of this into practice, men, so don’t get too comfortable!” He paused and looked behind him to where a few men were setting food on a long table. “It looks like the food’s just about ready, so why don’t we pray. Then you can help yourselves and we’ll get this party started. Arnie, how about you say the blessing?”

A thin, balding man stood up and offered a brief invocation. After the “amen,” men began filing up to the table to pile food on their plates. When most people had returned to their tables, Richard took to the microphone again.

“All right. Now, the first thing we’re going to do is introduce ourselves. Go ahead and get acquainted with the men at your table. Be sure you tell everyone your name, and practice giving a compliment about your wife. As we go through the exercise, the leaders at your table will give you guidance about how you talk about the most important woman in your life.”

Jeff was confused. Why on Earth were they supposed to talk about their wives? And what about unmarried men? He looked around the table; everyone appeared to be wearing wedding bands, so he decided this must only be for married men. Besides himself, Doug, and Bill, there were four others. The man to Jeff’s right looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Doug set his fork aside and addressed them. “I’ll go first, since I’m our table leader. I’m Doug, and my wife is the most beautiful woman in the world. I still light up when I come home to her, even after almost twenty years.” He glanced at the silver-haired gentleman on his right. “Go ahead, you next.”

“I’m Callum, and your wife can’t be the most beautiful woman, because that honor belongs to mine.” There was a bit of nervous laughter. “She’s still the gorgeous girl I married.”

The next two were the same, and Jeff had the renewed sense that this was some kind of recovery program for men who felt guilty that they’d ever had a stray thought about another woman. He cringed at more than one reference to “girls.”

It was Bill’s turn. “Uh, I’m Bill, and my wife is one of the most intelligent and witty people I know.”

The other men just stared at Bill.

“Yes,” Doug finally probed, “but do you still find her attractive?”

Bill frowned. “Sure, I do. What does that have to do with anything?”

Doug shrugged. “How about you, Jeff?”

“Well, as Doug just said, I’m Jeff. My wife works really hard. She’s involved in some environmental—”

Doug cut him off. “I’m getting the impression that you guys don’t really know what the point of this exercise is.”

Jeff raised his eyebrows. “Well, no, I don’t, to be honest. What is the purpose?”

Doug looked like he was barely restraining an eye roll. “We’re practicing ways to talk about our wives so we can bring that home and they’ll feel appreciated.”

“I don’t understand,” Bill said. “Why wouldn’t Jeff’s wife appreciate that he notices what she’s interested in?”

“Because women in our society are admired for their bodies, and most compare themselves to the models and actresses they see. We need to undo all that damage by helping them see how sexy they are to us.”

Jeff frowned. “That doesn’t sound—”

Doug ignored him and turned to the last man at the table. “Well?”

The man flushed slightly, and Jeff felt bad for him. After he and Bill had apparently screwed up, the poor guy probably didn’t want to say something wrong.

“I, um, I’m Chad. And I don’t have a wife.”

Doug really did roll his eyes this time. “Yes, but you’re married. And basically, it amounts to the same thing.”

“It really doesn’t, and I’m not going to say some crap about how hot my husband is.” Chad pursed his lips together and furrowed his brow.

Doug looked like he might say something, but Richard had taken the microphone again, this time with a stack of papers in his hand. Jeff elbowed Chad, who looked over. Under the table, Jeff held out his fist for Chad to bump, which he did, albeit hesitantly. He looked relieved, and he offered Jeff a tentative smile.

“All right, men,” Richard said. “I hope you’ve all had a chance to practice and receive critique. I’m going to talk you through some strategies for how you can make sure your wives are feeling loved and appreciated, especially in this age of social media.” He handed the papers to one of the other men, who began distributing them around the room.

Jeff looked at his copy. By the time he had read through it, he was sure there was actual smoke pouring out of his ears. The majority of the suggestions were about using various phrases to communicate about his wife’s appearance. He didn’t see a single one that referenced intellect, sense of humor, industriousness, compassion, or virtue. The only things on there that weren’t appearance-based were related to cooking, housekeeping, and child-rearing.

He’d had enough. Jeff had no interest in staying for the rest. Before Richard could return to the microphone to introduce any more practice sessions, Jeff muttered, “I need to get out of here.” He pushed back his chair.

He barely noticed the motion on either side of him as he stood up. Without turning around, he stalked to the doors. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw men shifting in their seats to stare at him; he ignored them.

“Wait!”

Jeff turned around slowly, not wanting to have to explain himself. He was surprised to see both Bill and Chad.

“You’re not going to convince me to stay,” Jeff told them.

“I had enough of this kind of thing at the last church my wife and I tried,” Bill said, shrugging. “I don’t think Terrie would like this very much.”

“You’re leaving too, then?” Jeff asked, turning to Chad.

“I’m pretty sure you can guess why.” Chad offered a tight smile. “I mean, I think I should have known I wouldn’t factor into their plans, but I had this notion I might actually learn something about communication.”

“Yeah.”

By that time, Doug had caught up with the three of them. Jeff closed his eyes briefly. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say to his friend. I don’t think much of your church probably wasn’t quite the right thing to tell him.

“Doug—” he began.

“Don’t. Look, I probably should have told you ahead of time, but I didn’t know much myself. I just knew Richard said he was going to be using a program designed by one of those big churches out west. A lot of their affiliates use it, and they even have one designed for leadership seminars.”

Jeff just stared at him. “Don’t play stupid, Doug. You knew. You said it yourself when we were all at the table.”

“I honestly didn’t know anything except that this was based on a men’s Bible study book.” He sighed. “All right, fine. I read the book. But I didn’t know Richard was going to jump right into it at the first session!”

“What book was it?”

Doug looked nervous. “The Smokin’ Hot Wives Club.”

“Oh, hell. You knew about that and you still thought I’d want to show up? Good God, Doug.” Jeff eyed his friend for a moment. “You actually believe this nonsense, don’t you?”

“I—” Doug folded his arms across his chest. “Maybe I do, in fact. Have you seen the response to this? Women eat it up. There’s nothing wrong with reconnecting with your wife, praising her in ways she might not be used to, and letting the world know she’s the only one for you. Do you have any idea how many men this program has prevented from committing adultery?”

Jeff let his mouth hang open briefly before closing it with a snap. “That kind of talk belongs in the bedroom, not a public breakfast or, God forbid, the Internet. Listen, do us both a favor and don’t invite me to one of these again. Or maybe do, so I can have the pleasure of saying no next time.”

“C’mon, Jeff—”

Jeff ignored him and turned back to the exit. He felt something brush his arm, and when he looked to the side, he saw that Bill and Chad were flanking him. Together, they left the building.

When they reached the parking lot, Jeff glanced at his watch. “It’s only eight forty. I don’t have to be home for nearly two hours. You guys want to grab some coffee someplace else? Maybe that diner on the corner of Morton?”

“Sure, why not?” Chad said. He made a face. “Al’s spending the day landscaping with his dad and brother-in-law. Not exactly my thing.”

“I’m game. Terrie’s working this morning anyway.”

“Great. See you there,” Jeff said, sliding into his car.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, Jeff glanced back at the large, brick building. He wondered briefly if the other men were using their smartphones to send tweets about their wives at that very moment. Shaking his head, he realized that he felt sorry for anyone uncreative enough not to know how to give his spouse a genuine compliment. Putting that thought aside, he decided that he would pick up a blueberry muffin for Moira on his way out of the diner. They were her favorite because they used organic blueberries, and she always said they tasted better.

A Picture’s Worth a Thousand Sermons

Marriage, Sex

This story was inspired both by something a rather infamous Seattle-based pastor said about nagging wives and by these two cartoons by Naked Pastor. Please don’t blame NP; he’s a really nice guy, and it’s not his fault his artwork made my mind go there.

Terrie snagged the mail on her way into the house. She threw it on the table and grabbed herself a glass of water before returning to the dining room to sift through the pile of magazine offers and take-out menus. The postcard halfway into the pile caught her attention and she set it aside to show Bill when he came home from work.

At dinner, Terrie passed her husband the postcard. He examined it thoughtfully. “Well,” he said before pausing to take a bite of his chicken. “We haven’t found a church since we moved here. Maybe we should give this one a try.”

“Any church that doesn’t shy away from sensitive subjects can’t be all bad, right?” Terrie grinned at Bill.

“Definitely. We’ll keep it in mind. If we don’t find someplace else we’d prefer to try, this will probably give us the best impression of what they’re all about.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Terrie agreed.

O_o

The postcard had given Terrie the impression that there was no need to dress up, so, clad in their jeans and casual button-down shirts, she and Bill entered the angular brick building that Sunday. A well-coiffed man in khakis and an ocean blue polo greeted them at the door.

“Welcome! Glad you could join us today,” he said. When he smiled, Terrie half expected the light to glint charmingly off his very white teeth.

“Um, thanks,” Bill said, attempting a manly grin.

Terrie and Bill were swept into the sanctuary with the rest of the crowd. Apparently, a whole lot of people were just as curious as they were about love, sex, and marriage. Terrie took that as a good sign; at least they didn’t stick out as the creepy new people who just came for a lecture on keeping their private parts in check. They found seats and settled in for the service to begin.

There wasn’t anything particularly new or different about the church service. That didn’t bother Terrie—she figured that as long as the message was good, the rest didn’t matter all that much. She’d never had any special attachment to a style of music or a form of liturgy. She relaxed, enjoying the familiarity of singing contemporary praise songs along with the rest of the congregation.

When the pastor began to speak, Terrie concentrated on his words. He was explaining that although many women did not intend to expose too much of their bodies, most did so inadvertently anyway.

The pastor said, “Ladies, when you dress like that, it’s distracting. All we can see is your body!”

Terrie squirmed a little. She had never considered the possibility that her body might be a source of struggle for anyone else. After all, wasn’t it her body? She glanced over at Bill, wondering what he was thinking. She was surprised to see that he was looking at her, a puzzled expression on his face.

She leaned in and whispered, “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Uh…nothing.” He averted his gaze.

Terrie sat back in her seat. Something felt a little off to her. She shifted uncomfortably, and as she did so, she noticed that she had forgotten to fasten the top button of her shirt. That must have been what had thrown Bill off. Discreetly, she reached her hand up to slide the button back into place. It wouldn’t budge. She risked a glance downward and saw that it was because the fabric wouldn’t draw together. Since when had this shirt been too tight? It hadn’t felt that way when she’d put it on, had it? She frowned. The shirt was brand-new; it must have shrunk in the wash. She sighed. Obviously she would have to be more careful when she washed her clothes. She turned her attention back to the pastor, who was concluding with some advice for women that they should be careful about maintaining modesty.

After one last song, everyone was dismissed. Terrie stood up and looked around. Being in a new church was always a little awkward. She never felt quite comfortable enough to introduce herself, but she also didn’t care for the feeling of being stalked for recruitment, either. It was usually better to make the first move.

Just as Terrie was about to mingle, Bill grabbed her arm. “Let’s just go,” he said.

Confused, Terrie nodded. Strangely, it seemed like a fair number of other couples were feeling the same way. Terrie followed Bill out of the sanctuary. She remembered that she was a little exposed, due to her button mishap. She felt a tingle of embarrassment creep down her scalp.

She was momentarily distracted by the people walking past her. She realized she needn’t have worried; it looked like it was the official Sunday for wearing slightly-too-tight blouses. Terrie shrugged and let Bill lead her out to their car.

Once they were home, Terrie asked Bill what had him so riled up. He coughed.

“It’s just—that outfit you’re wearing. You look really good.”

Terrie laughed. “That’s all? Hm.” She leaned in. “Maybe I should take it off.”

“Maybe you should,” Bill agreed. “I don’t know what you did differently, but I just can’t take my eyes off you.”

Still laughing, Terrie grabbed Bill’s hand and led him upstairs.

O_o

The following week, they decided to give the church another try. Terrie hadn’t been sure, but Bill had suggested they give it a few weeks before making their decision.

“I don’t know,” Terrie said. “There’s just something a little…odd, I guess, about that church.”

“Come on. Let’s just wait and see.” He thought for a moment. “It’s probably just that we feel uncomfortable with the topic. It doesn’t come up in church that often, you know?”

“Maybe you’re right. Fine, I’ll give it another shot.”

Once again, Terrie and Bill were caught up in the crowd and funneled into the sanctuary. After the worship set concluded, the pastor took his place to preach. Apparently, having addressed the women the previous week, this time the pastor was giving the men their due. He was discussing the problem of lust and explaining how it could destroy a man and his marriage.

“Guys, you are letting your thoughts control you. You need to get a handle on your lust.” The pastor thumped his fist on the lectern.

Terrie smirked a little. Apparently, men were prone to thinking about sex all the time—including in church. She was just suppressing a snicker when she caught a look at Bill out of the corner of her eye. He was shifting in his seat and looking distinctly uncomfortable. Terrie raised her eyebrows, but she said nothing. As she turned her eyes back to the pastor, she noticed that quite a lot of the men were adjusting their bodies. She felt her cheeks heat up. It was one thing to know that her own husband was finding it hard to suppress his reactions; it was entirely different to feel like she’d suddenly been deposited in a room full of thirteen-year-old boys. She concentrated harder on listening to the rest of the sermon.

By the time the band started playing, Bill was begging Terrie to leave a little early. She took in his flushed face and, with a quick peek southward, she decided it was probably for the best. The good news was that they would probably barely be in the door before they would be all over each other. Regardless of whatever else the church had to offer, attendance certainly had its perks.

O_o

When the third week rolled around, Terrie was certain Bill wouldn’t want to return to that particular church. He proved her wrong, however, by suggesting that they stick it out until the end of the series. He thought the pastor had some “interesting points,” as he put it. Terrie shrugged. She didn’t really care. The pastor wasn’t actually saying anything she hadn’t heard before; he was just doing it in a way that made people significantly more embarrassed. Or turned on; whatever.

The message was different that week. The official sex talk over with, the pastor had turned to marriage. Terrie was a little bored; it wasn’t anything new. According to this week’s sermon, men were experiencing leadership failure in their homes. They were either lax, allowing their wives to pick up the slack, or they were obsessively controlling. Terrie made a face. She and Bill didn’t seem to have any difficulty with that. As far as she could recall, they’d never even discussed it.

“Men, you lead your homes like cavemen!” the pastor shouted.

Terrie snorted. That was a decidedly silly image. She wasn’t even sure what it meant. Her mind wandered to an image of Bill dragging her by her hair and thumping things with a giant club. She stifled a giggle.

After the previous two weeks, Terrie had hoped they might stay for a bit after church. Everyone (Terrie and Bill included) always seemed to be in such a rush to escape after the service ended. Terrie was beginning to wonder if they even bothered with coffee hour. At least this time everyone’s hormones seemed to be under wraps. Terrie blamed the previous weeks on the topic; frank discussions about sex were bound to lead to at least some frantic groping, right?

As they stood around making small talk, Terrie became aware that there was something subtly off about the men. The lighting was rather dim, so she couldn’t be sure, but they all appeared to be hunched over a bit. And their faces—they just looked, well, strange, for lack of a better word. She wasn’t having any trouble carrying on a conversation with the other women, but the men were just standing around. Every now and again, one of them would grunt something she didn’t quite catch. Oddly, none of the other women seemed bothered by this.

By the time they made their way out to the parking lot, Terrie was glad to be out of there. She waited for Bill to unlock the car, but he was just standing there, seemingly incapable of figuring out what to do. Terrie huffed.

“Bill, can you open the door? I’d like to go home.”

He turned toward her, and she saw that he, too, looked wrong somehow. He said, “Huh?”

“Never mind,” she replied. “Just give me the keys. I’ll drive.” She snatched the keys out of his hands and propelled him toward the passenger side. With a shake of her head, she opened his door and waved at him to get in. She hoped whatever was wrong with Bill would wear off by the time they got home.

O_o

Terrie and Bill had agreed to stick it out at church until the end of the series. Even so, she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to. She knew Bill was having second thoughts as well, but he thought they should give it one last chance. By that point, Terrie didn’t care one way or another.

They were halfway through the sermon on wives being submissive to their husbands before the realization hit Terrie. She inhaled sharply and looked over at Bill. The same thought must have occurred to him simultaneously.

The pastor had just said, “I was listening to a fellow pastor speaking this week. He was just saying how irritating it can be when a wife constantly nags her husband, a lot like a …”

Terrie and Bill looked at each other. “We need to leave now,” she said.

Bill didn’t even question it. Quietly, they stood from their seats and slipped out of the sanctuary. When the doors had closed on whatever it was the pastor had been about to say, they both sighed with relief. They took a moment to lean against a wall and collect themselves.

“You know, Bill,” Terrie said, closing her eyes briefly, “I don’t think this is the church for us after all.”

“I think you may be right. Next week, let’s try to find one that doesn’t take everything so literally.”

He laced his fingers with hers and, swinging their joined hands between them, they left the church building.

Spiritual Abuse Awareness Week: After-Image

Bullying, Religion, Social Justice

I wasn’t able to participate in the first day of Spiritual Abuse Awareness week due to other demands on my time. I wasn’t sure I was going to write anything today, either. My experiences are mild compared to the horrific things friends and fellow bloggers have shared, and I believe those people who have survived need safe space to heal. That sometimes includes people like me, who only feel it like the residual tremors of an earthquake, remaining quiet and letting others tell their stories. But I had an experience that reminded me that everything has consequences, even if we don’t realize it at the time. So here is my story about the aftermath of dealing with spiritually abusive people and how deep it can make us bleed.

Last Sunday, the pastor asked to speak to us about our son.

I was on my way in alone; I was playing my violin during the service and had arrived early to practice with the choir. My husband and children were driving separately. The pastor stopped me on my way up to the choir loft and said,

I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes in my office after church, about your son.

I must have looked surprised, because she added that it was about his baptism, which is scheduled for the Sunday after Easter. I nodded and told her that was no problem. But inside, I was panicking.

That’s not really a healthy response to a conversation with a pastor.

I need to say here that our pastor is a lovely woman. She is kind and gentle and delivers fantastic sermons. She has been nothing but loving and warm towards our family, our children in particular. My daughter warmed to her immediately, which is fairly miraculous–she has discriminating taste in people. So there are no circumstances under which I should feel threatened or intimidated by this pastor. Even if I had committed some grave error, I suspect she would handle it with grace.

And yet.

My immediate reaction to anyone in spiritual authority asking to speak to me has become one of fear. I have learned to expect rebukes rather than positive conversations. When I realized what had happened, that my response was out of proportion with reality, I was puzzled. Where in the world did such feelings come from?

I knew that it wasn’t really the result of my experiences as a teenager. I was a little afraid of the pastor of that church, but I don’t believe that I thought of him as genuinely in authority over me. I had no sense of church politics or hierarchy; I was in a bubble of Christian youth culture (as much as there actually was back in the late ’80s/early ’90s). And it certainly didn’t come from the ten years my husband and I spent at our first church as a married couple. That pastor and his family were like an extension of our own. We were close, and we remain in touch to this day despite the 3000 miles separating us.

I’m sure you can guess where this is going. I am not going to sit here and say that I was spiritually abused by our church or the leadership*. That would be lying, and it would be hurtful to those who are still involved. But I will tell you this: There were people in authority there who absolutely, unquestionably used intimidation tactics on me and on others. I was spoken to multiple occasions about my writing, particularly in regard to my feminism and my unwavering stance as an LGBT ally (and once or twice about my parenting). I was never told I shouldn’t blog or use social media, but I received subtle threats about it more than once. Additionally, there were a few adults who used my children for the purpose of coercion and “correction.” (Nothing makes me go all Mama Bear faster than church people using my kids as weapons.)

None of that may sound particularly bad; and perhaps it isn’t. But taken as a whole, it damaged my sense that pastors and leaders are safe people. They may not overtly threaten or shun or shout from the pulpit, but they hold power over the people–in large part because they (or the church structure) dictates that they do. When leaders wield their authority inappropriately, it undermines people’s faith that they can trust them.

This is exactly what happened to me. I believe that over time, I can–and will–regain my ability to trust, because it wasn’t damaged beyond repair. But there are others for whom the same cannot be said. This is unacceptable–not because it’s unacceptable to be non-religious or non-churchgoing, but because the reason for being non-religious or non-churchgoing should never, ever be because it was literally or figuratively beaten out of you.

By the way, the reason the pastor wanted to talk to us was so she could set a time to come to our house to speak to our son about what will happen when he’s baptized, physically and spiritually. We met last night, and it was good–exactly as I should have expected.

I hope you will read the other stories about spiritual abuse this week. There are some remarkable survivors out there. Take the time to get to know them through their words. And if you have been spiritually abused, please read this excellent post by Caleigh on self-care. Meanwhile, I’m going to spend some time praying for the strength to trust again.

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*That is not to say that I wasn’t exposed to abusive beliefs or teachings; I’m speaking specifically here about being directly abused, harassed, threatened, mistreated, intimidated, etc. by pastors, elders, and other leaders in the church.

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For more posts on spiritual abuse, visit these web sites:

Wine & Marble: Spiritual Abuse Day 1

Joy in this Journey: Spiritual Abuse Day 2

Holy Hand Sanitizer

Culture, Religion, Social Justice

Have you ever been somewhere and needed to clean your hands but were unable? Perhaps you were in a public restroom and the soap had run out. Maybe it was in church last week when you passed the peace and shook the hands of twelve strangers. You might have been in the park and picked up some stray trash. If you’re a parent, you’ve surely experienced the same thing with your kids–they tend to get their hands on a whole lot of disgusting stuff, and there’s not always a bathroom nearby.

For times like that, I keep a small bottle of hand sanitizer in my purse. It’s not ideal, even though it says on the label that it will kill the germs. I don’t know about you, but I never feel quite clean enough. It’s better than nothing, but I nearly always think, I can’t wait to get home and just use water and real soap.

The church can be a bit like that hand sanitizer in the way we treat people and the issues in their lives. This morning, I read this excellent piece by Jennifer Luitwieler on the ways in which our culture promises happiness is the reward for skinniness. Now, this was about the wider society, not the church, but a thought struck me: Inside the church, we do exactly the same thing, but we dress it up in Jesusism.

I read a blog post a couple of months ago in which the writer claimed that being fat wasn’t okay with God. It was my opinion then, and it remains so now, that the writer was projecting her own beliefs and insecurities on other Christians. The truth is, God is not sitting up in heaven policing our bodies and demanding that we be thin. There is absolutely no command in the Bible about being thin. We could have a conversation about gluttony, but we need to keep in mind that fat and gluttonous are not synonyms. What’s really going on here is that the cultural pressure to be skinny has seeped into our churches. Instead of being counter to society, we’ve appropriated societal norms and bent them to a Christian worldview.

Body image isn’t the only way the church has done this. We’ve done it with parenting, money, leadership, and even sex. We don’t look for our actions in the persistent call for justice that runs like a river throughout the whole of Scripture. Instead, we’ve merely taken what’s happening in the world at large and tried to write new rules that conform to our interpretation of the Bible:

Culture says skinny is good/fat is bad; the church says God wants you to be a “healthy weight” through “biblical principles.”
Culture provides fertile ground for arguments and attacks on parenting style; the church says there is a Biblical way to parent, which is different based on which interpretation of Scripture one uses and looks remarkably similar to secular styles.
Culture bombards us with investment opportunities and encourages spending; While the church may not encourage consumerism (though this is debatable), it does encourage investment, savings, and tithing (which may or may not actually help those in need, and a portion of which funds the church itself).
Culture has standards for “excellence” in leadership and one can find books and seminars almost everywhere; the church not only encourages the same principles used in business, but often looks to secular leaders for advice.
Culture provides sex without context; the church provides context without sex. Neither encourages having both.

You may be thinking one of two things. First, if you believe we once were a Christian nation, you may be thinking that I have it backwards–it’s the world that has corrupted these biblical principles and the church is merely trying to redeem them. Second, you may be thinking that there is nothing wrong with using the things that have value, so long as we don’t lose sight of God’s truth. Both lines of thinking are flawed.

First, there is no such thing as a Christian nation. Even if there was a time when most people at least nominally believed, by the very nature of who Jesus is there cannot be a Christian government. Jesus effectively silenced any notion of that in the way he ran counter to both the Roman authorities and the religious ones. We have no business linking God and human rule. We also have no business–for much the same reason–linking Jesus and culture.

Second, there isn’t anything wrong with making use of good sense. It is indeed wise, in our society, to save money for retirement. But that isn’t a biblical principle! That’s an entirely secular one. By biblical standards, we should be making sure that our poor and our elderly and our children and our infirm are cared for–without expecting that they’ve “planned” for it. There is nothing wrong with having healthy bodies, but we simply cannot get carried away to the point that we use junk science to support our theories and then call that “biblical.”

In other words, there is no problem with being part of our culture, as long as we don’t become confused and think that what culture says is biblical. We ought to take our cues first from the calls to love and justice in the Bible, rather than attempting to use the Bible to whitewash the culture. The problem is that the church has mostly been in the business of sanitizing worldly principles. Instead of making a commitment to this,

But let justice roll on like a river,
righteousness like a never-failing stream! [Amos 5:24]

we’ve tried to apply the Bible like a Band-Aid to what the wider culture says. We haven’t committed to helping people find healing and wholeness. We’ve rather criticized them for what we believe are “poor lifestyle choices,” which are remarkably similar to what secular culture calls “poor lifestyle choices.”

I would love to stop reading blog posts and listening to sermons on the Ten Ways We Can Improve Our Lives. I don’t need another podcast with five points all starting with the letter P. I don’t need a workshop on becoming an effective leader. I need opportunities to love my neighbor, feed the hungry, and care for the oppressed. Jesus doesn’t care which seminars I’ve attended, he cares which people I’ve served.

When are we going to stop turning church functionally into hand sanitizer? When will we reach for the cleansing soap and water and really wash ourselves clean?

Goodnight and not goodbye

Faith and Spirituality, Life, Religion

faith hope love — Adam Brooks [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Our family is entering a new stage in our journey, and I want to share a little about that. Many of you who know us in real life already know about what’s been happening, but for those who don’t, allow me to explain.

We have come to the decision that we need to find a new church.

This was not an easy decision, nor was it one we made quickly. It was not made in anger or over something anyone said or did. In fact, we have no hard feelings toward the church or any individuals. We love the church and the people in it. We have made wonderful friends, people we hope to have in our lives as long as they will have us.

The reason I have not written about it sooner is that we felt we should speak with the church staff and elders first, out of respect for them. That way, they would have heard the story first and anything anyone else had heard could be verified or denied. We met yesterday, therefore we are prepared to discuss what has been going on and how we are feeling.

Our church has a specific mission and purpose. We think that is wonderful, and we hope that the leadership and the people in the church continue to carry it out. We will continue to support all of you who are still part of the church. But we believe that God is calling us in a new direction. We feel God’s leading toward social justice ministry. Although it would be ideal if we could do this and continue to be part of our church, that is not possible. It would be like telling someone who wants to build houses in Africa that they should just donate money to an organization or go on short-term trips.

I’ve posted about this before, about how deeply I was affected by Bill Hybels’ message about what wrecks us. For about the last 2 years, we have both been looking more deeply at what wrecks us and what we can do about it. For a time, we both tried to do this within the context of ministry at our church. We even made some changes in parts of our lives outside of church. But it’s grown beyond that, and we’re ready for more. We’re ready to take the things we’re passionate about and make a difference for others in this world. That’s really what social justice ministry is all about, after all.

If you read this blog regularly, I’m sure that most of you can figure out what I’m most passionate about (and therefore why I can’t do that kind of ministry at our church). As this is my blog, and I believe that my husband is capable of speaking for himself, I won’t go into detail on his behalf. If any of you have any questions, including more information about why we left, what our plans are, or what we intend to do, please feel free to contact us. You can leave a comment here, use the contact form on this blog, message us on Facebook, or email one of us directly. Please respect our privacy by using email or messages to get in touch, rather than calling us.

Some of you may be wondering where we will be attending church now. That’s a fair question, but not one we are prepared to answer at this time. We need to protect our family, especially our children. Being judged for the church we have chosen or for any other part of this process is unfair to them. We know you wouldn’t mean to judge us, but unfortunately, any opinions or advice or discussion about what we have or have not decided comes across as judgmental. You are absolutely entitled to have an opinion. We’re just politely requesting that you keep it to yourself.

We don’t want any of you to believe that you caused any of this. Please believe me when I say that you didn’t. We love you all enough that if one of you had hurt us, we would have told you directly rather than leaving the church. This is entirely on us, based on what we hear God saying to us.

You may pass this along to anyone you feel may want to see it, as not all of our friends read this blog or have Facebook/Twitter accounts. There is nothing secret here, and we won’t consider it gossip for you to discuss this with each other, since you have our full permission to share.

We hope that we can still remain in touch with all of you. Your love and care have meant the world to us over the last 7 years. Thank you for everything and may we continue this journey of faith together, even though we do it in different ways. Blessings, and much love to you all.

The Smokin’ Hot Wives Club

A Picture’s Worth a Thousand Sermons

©May 3, 2013 by ABMitchell

Goodnight and not goodbye

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