toward God's heart, part 1

I’ve been asked a few times recently what, exactly, has led to the changes in my understanding of God’s design for the sexes. I appreciate this question; too many people quickly assume that when a woman starts “waffling” on the doctrine of complementarianism, it’s because she doesn’t want to follow it, or because she wants power, or because she thinks God isn’t fair. There’s a strong tendency for stalwart conservative Christians to catastrophize, wondering where her obvious disregard for Scripture will take her next.

I’m sure that a subsequent rejection of orthodox Christian beliefs does happen sometimes—the inability to see shades between black and white is not limited to any one “side”—but ecclesiastical dismissiveness toward those who are conscientiously rethinking tertiary doctrines serves only to shut down what I think is a very important conversation we should all be having, if we care about knowing and imitating God’s heart for women, men, and the Church in light of the Good News. I reject the idea that any change in how we understand Scripture can be waved away as “deconstruction,” or that deconstruction is, itself, a dirty word. I don’t serve a particular denomination or statement of faith or political ideology; I serve God, and as soon as I insist that God fits into any human thought structure that exists on earth, I have become an idolator.

So this series is meant to be a small part of that conversation. I hope to keep having it, and learning from it, for some time to come.

A little backstory

I have been walking with God for 30 years. For those who want a specific point in time when my trajectory changed from hell-bound sinner to citizen of God’s kingdom, I first “asked Jesus into my heart” at about age 3, in the year 1997, with the help of my older brother Stephen. But thanks to the faithfulness of my parents, I was in practice living under the authority of Christ and in the reality of His resurrection from birth. As is typical for children, the real choice to follow Jesus out of personal conviction rather than family pattern didn’t happen until my early teens, and then it was more of a natural transition than a particularly memorable experience.

The home I grew up in was strong in “traditional” conservative evangelical values. (I put “traditional” in quotes because many of these traditions are, by comparison, quite young and not well-rooted in actual church tradition. This is not a criticism, just a clarification.) My dad is naturally a strong leader, protector, and provider. My mom is naturally a strong nurturer and guardian of the home. I am a child of the “ideal” complementarian environment, through and through. And yet, my journey toward equality and mutuality in marriage and in the church did not begin from reflecting on my own family of origin.

I share these pieces of backstory for context; I think it’s important for you to know that I have always been, and still am, an unwavering believer in the Scriptures and follower of Jesus Christ; and that I have concerns about complementarian theology that, while impossible to fully sever from my upbringing, do not arise from those experiences exclusively or even primarily.

A few caveats

Here’s what this series won’t be: It won’t be a verse-by-verse, chapter-by-chapter dissection of all the relevant texts in their original languages. Plenty of people have already done that, people with far greater qualifications to do so than I possess; Dr. Carmen Imes, Cynthia Long Westfall, Julie Zine Coleman, and Marg Mowczko are just a few. And it won’t be a proof-texting of egalitarianism—I do my best not to subscribe to “-isms.”

I should also acknowledge, even though it seems superfluous, that I’m writing from my own lifelong experience with Jesus, the Bible, complementarian spaces, and complementarian literature. Inevitably, there are limitations to my experience. There will be times that my experience doesn’t represent yours. There may be times I even sound dismissive of the good intentions I believe most complementarians have.

So I will say at the outset: I do not believe most complementarian Christians have any malice toward women or are consciously trying to marginalize us; in fact, I trust that many of them wholeheartedly believe they are doing what God wants, for the good of everyone. This gives me grace and compassion toward my complementarian brothers and sisters, but it does not excuse or invalidate the lived reality of all too many women in these spaces, myself included.

If you’re male and you strongly believe complementarian theology is a positive good, or you simply don’t see it as a big deal, that’s fine. Your experience of it is without question completely different from mine, simply by virtue of being male. Perhaps this series can give you a small taste of a different perspective.

If you’re female and you strongly believe complementarian theology is a positive good, or you simply don’t see it as a big deal, that’s also fine. I spent two-thirds of my life there with you. But your positive or neutral experience of Christian patriarchy does not make the negative experiences of many, many others less real.

In short, you may not understand where I’m coming from or why this matters to me. I’m okay with that. I just challenge you to keep front of mind that how we love and honor one another as the Imago Dei matters a lot to God.

With all that said: I’ll be exploring some of the contradictions I’ve noticed in complementarian doctrine, along with its incongruities with how God created humans and designed His good world to work according to the Scriptures, in the next several posts.

Genesis 1:1 (a meditation)

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.

- Genesis 1:1

SUGGESTED READINGS: Psalm 33, John 1:1-3, Colossians 1:16-17, Revelation 4:11

The story starts with One who is, for now, simply called “Elohim.”

It’s the plural of a very ordinary Hebrew noun for an ordinary god, a divine ruler or judge. But the writer makes an extraordinary statement about this “ordinary” supernatural being: In the beginning, Elohim created the skies and the land.

Of course, such a claim would be far less extraordinary to its contemporaries than it is to us. Every ancient culture had an explanation for the origins of the world they inhabited, and all of them were linked to the activities of the supernatural. But unlike the stories told by the ancient Egyptians, Elohim didn’t Himself evolve from the preexisting chaos state of the uncreated space, nor did He achieve creation by reproducing Himself into an order of multiple other gods. And in contrast with the cosmology of the ancient Babylonians, who believed the world had come into form as the byproduct of cosmic wars between supernatural rivals, the Biblical creation narrative begins simple, peaceful, and authoritative.

There is no rival to Elohim.

There is no origin of Elohim.

From the first words of the Scriptures, He is set apart and supreme, eternal and ever-present. And He creates.

Heavens, or skies: The space belonging to the divine.

Earth, or land: The space governed by His human representatives, the ones He makes in His likeness.

In the beginning of human history, Elohim formed divine space and human space, and married them into one indivisible unit of sky and land, atmosphere and earth. From the outset of time, He intended to dwell within His creation and among His creatures, sharing all His goodness, His glory, and, yes, even His power with His image-bearers.

The God who has neither origin nor rival has no cause to be stingy with His abundance.

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.