All posts by Jeff

Tonight (for class) I read and reflected for an hour on a chapter from Don Postema’s book Space for God.  I wouldn’t necessarily recommend the book, not that it’s not good, it’s just that there are so many others out there that I’d recommend first!  But this chapter was my favorite, and it was on the Justice & Compassion side of prayer. His connection comes from Matthew 5:23-24:

So when you are offering your gift on the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.

Postema rightly concludes that if we truly followed this, we’d never get back to the altar at all!  For who is completely free from others having something against them.  Even if total justice and compassion has been shown to their family, what about the poor, the suffering, those who our religion and country have oppressed?  Who can stand and say no one has anything against them? None of us.  So they are linked.  Prayer leads to an understanding, a hearing, if you will, the cry of the oppressed.  Prayer the leads us to “leave it” (in a sense) to take the cause of those who suffer, and in this we are continuing in prayer. 

Consider this version of Isaiah 58:6-11

Is not this what I require of you as a fast: to loose the fetters of injustice, to untie the knots of the yoke, to stop every yoke and set free thsoe who have been crushed?  Is it not sharing your food with the hungry, taking the homeless poor into your house, clothing the natked when you meet them and never evading a duty to your kinsfolk?  Then shall your light break forth like the dawn and soon you will grow healthy like a wound newly healed; your own righteousness shall be your vanguard and the glory of the Lord your rearguard.  Then, if you call, the Lord will answer; if you cry to him, the answer will be: “Here I am.”   If you cease to pervert justice, to point the accusing finger and lay false charges, if you feed the hungry from your own plenty and satisfy the needs of the wretched, then your light will rise like dawn out of darkness and your dusk be like noonday; the Lord will be your guide continually and will satisfy your needs in the shimmering heat; he will give you strength of limb; you will bel ike a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. 

Something in me just springs to life when I read this.  Yes!  That is it.  And I think what I’m sensing is that, miracle of all miracles, God is beginning to birth in my heart a genuine (albeit very small) love for people.  For those of you who read my New Year’s Resolutions (click there to see), my banner goal was simply to love people.  I am so stinking low on love.  How can I call myself a Christian if I don’t have love, real genuine love for people? 

I heard about the most convicting thing yesterday it made me want to throw up.  A question was asked of a pastor who speaks nationally about creating missional churches–churches whose goal and focus is truly to build the kingdom of God.  He was asked how to instigate change in churches that just don’t have this kingdom mindset, who don’t teach the Word, who don’t stimulate true growth, who don’t spread the gospel.  Well, first he answered, you need to ask yourself this question–Why am I here, at this church?  Am I here because it’s a career step–a place to get my foot in the door until I can do real stuff, “bigger and better” stuff?  Pow.  Then he said to ask yourself, “Do you love the people?  Really.  Do you love the people?”  Double pow.  Then he concluded:  “If you’re there because you genuinely love the people, and you want to see genuine life change and a church set on fire to be on mission with God … then what it takes is time.  Lots and lots and lots and lots of time.”

So, all of this fits together.  First, I am challenged to let my prayer life ignite in me a conviction that a Christian life that is not moving in this world as the hands and feet of Jesus is not a real Christian life.  Secondly, I am challenged as I realize that I might be all excited to go and talk to Jesse, the homeless guy in Portland, about the gospel and give him food and clothes, but am I willing to get on the same level as the people in my small town, to lay aside the perceived gaps and learn to speak their language?  Do I love them?  I think …. I think … that I’m starting to.  The little flicker of genuine love for people that is in my heart is pretty small, but I can feel it, flickering, struggling, lighting up the darkness of selfish ambition and vain conceit in my heart. 

Lord, give me love for people.  Turn my prayer to action.  Make me sick with compassion and uncomfortable with conviction, so that I’ll turn outward and love people for Your sake.  In Jesus’ name and for His sake. AMen. 

Nothing deep here … I just wanted to reflect on the joy of mommyhood.  Yesterday Dutch got a new toy–a green John Deere truck from my dear friend Crystal.  Dutch flipped!  He loved it. Usually snack time is the most exciting part of the day and when I pull out the special Dutch muffin and start breaking off pieces and putting them on his high chair tray, he just about goes crazy.  He loves muffins. But yesterday, he totally ignored the muffin as soon as he saw the tractor!  Then later, the boy who hardly ever plays on his own, took his tractor over to the stairs and played for 30 minutes, all by himself, making the engine sounds and loading and unloading special imaginary bucket-fulls of dirt on the stairs.

Dutch’s other favorite thing right now is to sneak into our bedroom and go through Jeff’s nighstand drawer.  He usually goes for the “No More Fungus” bottle (yeah, gross) and hides things in our bed.  So last night, about 2am, I woke up and couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t comfortable, the realized something hard was under my back.  I reached back and there was a deck of playing cards … from our special little boy.  Too tired to get up, I tossed them down to my feet and fell asleep smiling.  What a little boy.

Today at church, I was the proudest mommy ever because Dutch ran to Pastor Dale and jumped into his arms.  Then I said, “Dutch can you give Pastor Dale a kiss?”  ANd he leaned up and planted a huge kiss right on our pastor’s cheek.  Yeah, it was pretty sweet.  Of course he might be a terror at home for me, but at least he’s sweet at church. 🙂

That’s all. Just savoring mommyhood. 

“If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don’t fuss about what’s on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body.” Matthew 6:25 The Message

Well, I figure we might as well start with gusto. So, after talking to Jeff (I do know my Old Testament you know, and when a woman makes a vow, her husband can counter it if he thinks it was too rash 🙂 ) I’m taking the plunge. No buying clothes for myself for … gulp … yes ….breathe, Kari … a year. Yes, a year. Here are the stipulations because I want to really count the cost and make this clear.

1. I’ll start April 1st (that way if I think of anything that I truly need for the coming year I can get it this weekend–no it’s not like Mardi Gras, I’m not going to go on a shopping spree, I’m talking about if there’s something I actually need, which I can’t think of right now but just in case.)

2. I can receive gifts; but if I get gift cards then I’ll wait to use them until after the year is over. (And no I won’t make up holidays and insist that my husband buy me clothing gifts to celebrate every weekend!)

3. Goodwill is still allowable in a rare event, like if I get pregnant or something to cover my belly!

4. I’ll “audit” our finances and find out exactly what I spent on clothing in the past year, and then donate that amount on April 1, 2009 to a charity or missions organization.

Here’s where you come in: If any woman out there will join me in this challenge, I’ll donate that money to a charity of YOUR choice (provided it’s a good one!). OR, if any of you men want to show your support of this challenge, I ask that you match me dollar for dollar, and if I succeed and complete the year, you match my donation to that charity. This could be so awesome! Let’s just say we spent $500 on clothes in a year. If I did this and 5 guys supported me, that’s $3,000. If five of you girls did it as well and had just one guy support each of you, that’s $8,000 total! That’s enough for 1600 chickens for needy families in Asia! And I guarantee not one person will notice if I wear the same dress to every wedding this summer. Guaranteed.

So, if you’re in, post a comment, or if you’re shy–click “Contact” and send me an email. I’m off now to check the tread on my shoes …

The buzz has mostly died down now, but there for awhile everyone sported their rubber wrist-bands. LiveStrong was the most popular one, in bright yellow support of Lance Armstrong’s battle against cancer. Our church in Corvallis had white ones with LivePure as a stand for sexual purity.

So this morning I was lying in bed listening to Dutch cry, as he was not happy about being put down for his nap. I lay on my bed, staring at my open closet. My full open closet. A year or so ago I read Blue Like Jazz. I remember really liking it, but can’t remember a ton about it now. Except for one thing. I remember Donald Miller had a friend at Reed College who decided to go a whole year without buying clothes. And she did it. Isn’t that funny? That’s the only thing that was burned into my mind from the book. Why? Because I remember thinking, Wow, I couldn’t do that. But I was totally challenged and encouraged by her–what a radical thing to do. She decided that rather than just give her leftover money to God, she would actually go without something, so that her giving to the church and to the poor actually cost her something. David said this is 2 Samuel 24:24 (for those of you who want to make sure this is biblical!), he insisted that he pay for the threshing floor and the oxen for 50 shekels of silver because he said “nor will I offer burnt offerings to the LORD my God with that which costs me nothing.” So what does that mean for us?. I guess what I’m challenged by is that we have so much. Even those of us who aren’t rich (raising my hand here), we still have so much, and we could give so much more.

I thought back to this week. Jeff brought home a box of food from church this week because somebody had dropped it off for the resource center, but the resource center has recently closed, so they sent it home with Jeff. I looked at the box of food. Two deeply dented cans of Chef Boyardee forkable food-like substance and four cans of some kind of beef stew stuff and a random box of pumpkin seeds. What? I admit the thought flashed through my mind, Who gives stuff like this? But it’s not that I wasn’t grateful for the gift, but that box of obviously unwanted leftover givaway food was like holding a mirror up in front of my face. I give like that. I give my leftover, dented cans of gross Chef Boyardee, so to speak. I don’t give my favorite Brianna’s all-natural salad dressing or my Go Lean cereal which is like precious gold, but don’t you think that hungry people in need probably like those kind of delicious things just as much as I do? I’ll never forget a story one of my teachers in school of ministry shared. He said that he wanted to give some clothes to charity and so he went into his closet to pick out a few sweaters. Which ones did he pick? Of course, his oldest ones, the ones he didn’t really like, the ones he never wore, right? Right. But as he reached for those, he heard God say, Why not that one, Jason? He looked up at his favorite sweater–the J. Crew one on the top; the new one that he loved. Why not that one, Jason? He looked at it again. Reluctantly but obediently, he pulled it from the top shelf, resolving in his heart “nor will I offer to the Lord my God that which costs me nothing.” That was seven years ago, and I still remember that story. Hm. Which sweater am I holding back from God?

Now living sacrificially isn’t even just about giving more. It isn’t about money. It’s about a change of perspective. Again, I refer to the passage from The Hawk and the Dove about holy poverty. Remember the passage? (from Amazing Grace (my chains are gone —click there to read) Here it is again:

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His friend says, “Moderation! You ask too much! Your self-imposed penury is not holy poverty. It is like the poverty of the world. It is …”

“Too must like the real thing, you mean?” Abbot Peregrine interjects wryly.

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When we actually go without we are choosing to experience a teeny taste of what Christ experienced, what others experience. We choose to let our fat flesh starve for one moment so that we can hear the voice of God. I’m not talking about asceticism, I’m not talking about becoming obsessed with self-denial. I love pleasure. I love the things God gave us for pleasure. Marriage, cookies, flowers, sunshine, running, fresh air–ahh! Drink deep of these pleasures, but we settle for too little. We are up to our eyeballs in luxury which has sated our spiritual hunger and left us lethargic and ready for a nap spiritually. I’m saying this to myself. Even though this year has been a struggle not having our own home, and I do believe God has a home in store for us, in fact I even believe that part of our ministry will be having a large home where we can have people stay and extend hospitality, but that’s another story and I’ve gotten off track here. Even though this year has been a struggle, it’s been a wake-up call to a realization on how little we can really live on.

So as I lay on my bed, I thought about a fabulous quote by Benjamin Franklin from my friend Caila’s website. It says, “Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.” Do something worth writing. What are we doing? Is there anything interesting going on in my life? That’s when the words LiveDifferent came into my mind. LiveDifferent. What if, once a week, we joined together to do something that challenged our American life of luxury mindset? What if a group of us girls (I say girls because for guys this wouldn’t be a sacrifice of any kind) did decide to not buy clothes for a year? What if, just for a week, we didn’t buy any groceries and just tried to live off what we have in our pantries (I know, not much of a challenge–we have to start somewhere!)? What if we took every Monday and instead of eating our lunch we fasted and gave our sack lunch to Jesse, the homeless guy on the I-205 off ramp? What if we went one whole month without eating out, and gave the money we save to Compassion International so that a kid in Rwanda could have shoes? What if we only rented movies from the library instead of Blockbuster and used that money to buy two chickens from Gospel for Asia for a family in need? What if we lived with our parents for a year? (ha ha, only threw that one in there to see if you were paying attention — no one should really do that!) So, every Friday, I’ll post a LiveDifferent challenge. Now this is being really vulnerable because you guys will see what a serious American sissy I am–because my LiveDifferent challenges probably won’t be that revolutionary to you. But, we have to start somewhere right? Now again, I’m not condemning people (myself included) who buy clothes, eat out, drive SUVs, or have cable tv. I’m just drawing a circle around myself and praying, God start a revolution here. Change my heart so that I’m willing to alter my lifestyle every so slightly for the sake of the gospel. Help me not to just do things for the sake of doing them, but to gain a different perspective, to ruffle my feathers enough that I look up and take notice of the suffering world around me. Please lead these LiveDifferent challenges so that they’re not just my own little ideas, but they’re YOUR ideas. And keep us always ever from pride, thinking we are in any way better than others who live different from us. Changes us, God. Give us creativity to LiveDifferent. Amen.

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Right now I’m taking one of the most fascinating classes ever — Biblical Perspectives on Women in Ministry. Because I’m not done with the class I’ve been hesitant to post this–but I suppose as my view morphs I can just be honest about that and repost new thoughts.  This is my summary paper on the role of women in ministry based on the book Two Views of Women in Ministry (an excellent book!) which outlines the two views, Egalitarianism and Complementarianism, from four scholars.  You probably have to be somewhat familiar with the ongoing conversation in order to jump in, but hopefully if you at least read the sticky passages (1 Cor. 11:1-16; 1 Cor. 14: 34-37; 1 Tim. 2:9-15) you can get a picture of what all the fuss is about.  My thoughts (as you’ll see) are far from complete, but this is an attempt to connect the dots in my mind and land at a place where I can stand with conviction, at least for myself.  As you’ll see I haven’t even scratched the surface of the link between male/female roles and the roles within the members of the Trinity–that’s another whole topic I’m too timid to address.  I’d love to hear your thoughts …

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 I love to ballroom dance.  But as a woman, the hardest part of ballroom dancing is learning to follow, especially when you’re the more experienced or gifted dancer and the male lead is struggling to keep time or doesn’t necessarily display characteristics of wanting to lead.  I recently spoke with a seminary student who taught dance classes for years.  He said, “The hardest thing about teaching dance is getting the men to lead and the women to follow.”  Could this indicative of a greater malady?
This analogy is not biblical, but what does it tell us about our natural inability to function successfully within our God-given roles?  Or, perhaps the real questions is, are there God-given roles at all?  Here we are, two species, male and female, wholly distinct and completely equal, who are called to partner together in this grand dance for the Kingdom of God.  Does it matter who does what?  Can we switch places?  Is there more value in leading or following?  What does the Bible say?  In this brief essay we will examine two primary views with regard to this question: Egalitarianism and Complementarianism.  These two views are outlined by four biblical scholars (Linda L. Belleville, Craig L. Blomberg, Craig S. Keener, and Thomas R. Schreiner) in the book Two Views of Women in Ministry.  I will summarize and critique each of the four authors, then summarize my own view briefly at the end, concluding with unresolved issues with which I’m still wrestling. 
Linda L. Belleville:  Egalitarian
 Beginning in the beginning, Linda Belleville sees no hierarchical structure in the Genesis account, insisting that if the law of primogeniture were at work then the animals would have the prime role, not man.  She rightly points out that man alone was called “not good” but man + woman was called “very good” by God (30).  Belleville then goes on to highlight the gifts exercised and roles played by women throughout the Bible.  Miriam, Deborah, Huldah, Phoebe, and Priscilla stand out as significant.  She observes that women were patrons (or hosts) of house churches, prophets, teachers, deacons and overseers, although there is no clear instance of a woman overseer.  Belleville believes that Paul’s address to widows in 1 Tim. 5:9-10 was likely an address to female overseers or elders (62). 
 Belleville deals with 1 Corinthians 14:34-37 by looking to the cultural context and explaining that women, allowed to learn (which was revolutionary in that culture), were being disruptive in the corporate worship setting.  However, she argues that any group could be guilty of this, so the transferable principle has nothing to do with women per se, but has to do with being disruptive during church (75).  She sides with the Message’s reading of the passage which states: “Wives must not disrupt worship, talking when they should be listening, asking questions that could more appropriately be asked of their husbands at home.”  
 In 1 Timothy 2:9-15 Belleville stresses the word authentein, which is found nowhere else in the entire New Testament and only twice in the entire Greek Bible (82).  Her research has led her to believe it would translate “to dominate” rather than “ to exercise authority over” (86).  This would suggest that the error was not in women teaching or having authority, but in dominating or behaving in a domineering way (89). 
 With regard to the rigorous debate surrounding the meaning of head (kephale), Belleville follows the egalitarian viewpoint that defines this key word as “source” (100).  Because of this she sees that mutual submission is the order to be followed, with no restriction on the ministry roles of women (103). 
Craig L. Blomberg: Complementarian
 Craig Blomberg begins by admitting that a double standard has been shown toward women, allowing them to function as leaders on the mission field but not at home. He also asks the probing question about what is causing this new proposed change in our churches—a closer look at scripture or a desire to follow the trends of society (126)?
 Like Belleville, Blomberg begins his discussion in Genesis, highlighting the meaning of the word ezer.  It has been established by both sides that ezer means “helper” and does not signify an inferior person (129).  In fact, in the Hebrew Bible this term most frequently refers to God.  However, what Blomberg argues is that the common thread throughout all the contexts is that the ezer “comes to the aid of someone else who bears the primary responsibility for the activity in question” (130).  Therefore, he concludes that the term ezer certainly doesn’t suggest an inferior role, but rather one who aids the person who requires help.   
 Blomberg’s main point is the significant observation he makes of the entire Bible—women possess positions in every ministerial role except the one lead role of priest or elder.  In the Old Testament, women were prophets, judges, and helpers in the ministry. In the New Testament, women were hosts of house churches, intercessors, prophets, and deacons.  Women in both the New and Old Testament were gifted with a wide variety of gifts and abilities.  But Blomberg correctly observes that nowhere in the entire Bible are there examples of female priests or elders.  This, he would say, is telling.  In Blomberg’s opinion, it would have been easy for Jesus to change this if He had wanted to—He certainly had no trouble turning the social norm on its proverbial ear (145). 
  Blomberg sees the key issue of 1 Corinthians 11:1-16 as behaving in a way that is culturally appropriate, sending the right message to the unbelieving world.  His key distinction, with regard to women preaching is summed up on page 158: 
One could thus be completely faithful to 1 Corinthians 11:5 by allowing a woman to preach, while at the same time insisting that the elders of the local congregation all be men, and that her authority to preach is a delegated one, with the elder board as the ultimate body of human leaders to whom the entire church (preachers included) is accountable.

Blomberg admits that kephale can mean many different things, including head, source, and authority.  What he points out, however, is that there has never been a single instance where the singular form of the word kephale has ever not included some sense of authority (156).  So he would sum up that this passage confirms male headship while allowing women to exercise their spiritual gifts in an appropriate manner. 
 First Timothy 2:9-15 is in many ways the key passage to discuss.  Blomberg insists that Paul cannot mean for women to be completely silent because he’d be contradicting himself!  He understands this to mean that women should behave in a cooperative and caring manner.  With regard to teaching and having authority, Blomberg explains that this is not the forbidding of two separate actions, but that the two verbs work “together to define one specific function or role” (169).   He would call this role “authoritative teaching,” and goes on to observe that the overseer is the only ministry position who is called both to lead (oversee) and to be “able to teach” (3:2).  This is the immediate context of the passage, which makes good hermeneutical sense.  Blomberg therefore concludes, “the only thing Paul is prohibiting women from doing in that verse is occupying the office of overseer or elder” (170). 
Craig S. Keener: Egalitarian
 Keener begins with a broad overview of the various ministerial roles women have played throughout the scriptures.  Primarily as prophets, judges (we know of one), and “laborers in the Word”, we see the women have obviously served God and been used for His glory.  Keener highlights Junia, whose name is debatable but generally accepted as a female who is listed as notable “among the apostles” (Rom 16:7).  He concludes that she held the office of apostle, perhaps with her husband or brother Andronicus (214).  The most likely explanation, according to Keener, is that like Aquila and Priscilla, Junia and Andronicus were “ a husband-wife apostolic team” (216). 
 The 1 Corinthians 14:34-37 passage, according to Keener, is about learning in an appropriate manner.  He explains that while this might sounds repressive in our culture, the opposite was true in theirs.  Far from being restrictive, this passage simply provided guidelines for the newfound freedom to learn that women had in the Christian faith (228). 
 Keener insists that 1 Timothy 2:9-15 was a situation specific passage. He again mentions numerous verses where direct instructions are obviously situation specific, including the command to beware of Alexander the coppersmith (2 Tim 4) (234).  He acknowledges the significance of Paul’s reference to the Old Testament but points out the fact that this same technique is used in reference to head coverings in 1 Cor. 11:8-9.  He would conclude, therefore, that it is hermeneutically inconsistent to insist that this reference to creation can mean one thing in one context and another elsewhere (240).
 With regard to the issue of headship, Keener accepts the biblical text but explains that the correct emphases should be on mutual submission and servanthood.  He highlights the key reality: all are called to mutual submission but women are specified more explicitly; all are called to mutual love, but men are specified more explicitly (242).  This both and only sort of description seems appropriate to helping both genders understand how they are called simply to exhibit a Christlike characteristic, but Paul emphasizes different characteristics for the man and for the woman.  Further, Keener seems to be concluding that a form of male authority is the biblical model in the home, but not in the church (242). 
Thomas R. Schreiner: Complementarian
 Schreiner submits the most traditional viewpoint represented in this book.  He agrees with Blomberg on many points but remains more traditional.  He begins his discussion in a way unique to him, by addressing the historical and hermeneutical components of the argument before delving into the biblical evidence. He explains that the burden of proof rests on the shoulders of those who promote a new way of interpreting these difficult passages (i.e. Egalitarians).  Centuries of scholars, according to Schreiner, have read and understood a male-leadership model as biblical, therefore it is the role of the egalitarian to be able to prove, without doubt, that these interpretations have been wrong (267), especially since “the new interpretation follows on the heels of the feminist revolution in our society.” 
 A refreshing point from Schreiner is his argument that no single passages should be elevated beyond another, but that each should be read in its context and used appropriately within its setting.  For example, to elevate Galatians 3:28 or 1 Tim. 2:5-11 as the highest authority is erroneous.  They are from letters with completely different contexts, purposes, and recipients. Rather, each one should be weighed equally with regard to its context (269). 
 Schreiner also devotes time to discussing the importance of terms and understanding what we are truly arguing about.  For example, we may argue over women’s ordination, but in realty (as Belleville also pointed out) the true issue is whether women can fulfill the role of elder/overseer which we today would term “Pastor.”  Because of this, Schreiner narrows down his arguments to address this one key question:  “Are women called to function as pastors, elders, or overseers.”  His answer is no (271).
 Schreiner also gives a valuable overview of the way that God, in the Old Testament and through Jesus, displays the value and dignity of women.  A truly remarkable number of women are portrayed throughout the Bible.  Jesus often talked to, healed, ministered to, cared for, loved, and wept with women.  He loves them.  He was provided for (helped!) by women who supported him financially, and certainly didn’t find that below him or degrading.  He revealed Himself, in His resurrected body, first to women, and gave them the honor of declaring the good news.  So though He did not invite any to be in the inner twelve group of apostles, he certainly valued women (275).
 Schreiner takes issue with the egalitarian assertion that the gift of prophecy is the same as the New Testament role of teacher.  He sees prophecy as a “fresh revelation” whereas teaching is the communication of tradition and exposition from the Word of God.  He thinks the attempt to prove that women can teach just because they fulfill the role of prophet is to perform hermeneutical gymnastics and stretch the text (278). 
 As does Blomberg, Schreiner makes the distinction between gifts and offices in the church.  This seems to be a common thread throughout the complementarian arguments.  While Schreiner explains that naturally men and women will be gifted in the same manner with the spiritual gift of teaching, there is a distinction in the way that this gift should function.  He sees that nowhere in scripture is it said that women should fulfill the office of a pastor who regularly teaches the congregation (279).  Again, Schreiner draws the line, albeit a bit fuzzily, at a “regular teacher”, insisting that just because Priscilla instructed Apollos in a private matter on a single occasion certainly does not imply that she filled a pastoral teaching position (280). 
Kari Patterson: Complementary Egalitarianism (!)
 Each author presents a valuable perspective that helped shape and develop my position on this matter.  In my opinion, the Egalitarianisms drew some conclusions that seemed hermeneutically and logically erroneous and discredited their scholarship.  For example, in the Genesis discussion, Belleville discusses the 3:16 reference to a woman’s desire for her husband:  Belleville believes this refers to a physical desire in the context of intimacy (a common sense objection here would be Sarah Sumner’s interjection—“How realistic is that?!”).  She does not think that it can be compared to the use of the term in 4:7 because there sin was likened to a lion, which wants to eat, not rule, Cain (33).  However, this is a comparison.  Desire is like a lion, not a lion.  Her conclusion, therefore, is not valid because she’s dealt erroneously with the text. 
 I also found unconvincing her insistence that women were the leaders of the house churches just because they hosted the church in their homes.  It is a huge stretch, in my opinion, to think that just because a group meets at a person’s house that that person is necessarily the leader.  Many of the home groups in our church are hosted by people who don’t shepherd or oversee them. 
Finally, her use of 1 Tim. 5 to defend the view of women as elders was borderline fantastical.  The passage is clearly speaking of the age of eligible widows, and has nothing to do with church office in the context.  This strikes me as a clear example of hermeneutical eisogesis to the nth degree.
 Of the four authors, I would stand in the camp with Craig L. Blomberg who refers to himself a the most egalitarian of complementarians.  I prefer Complementary Egalitarian!  I agree wholeheartedly with his findings and conclusions.  He sees the distinction of office, not gifting, and would allow a woman to teach, as long as she is not fulfilling the office of overseer or teaching elder.  I understand this is a subtle distinction, but it seems the only way to reconcile the various passages with honesty and integrity.  The fact that throughout Scripture, the two primary leadership ministerial roles (priest and overseer in the OT and NT respectively) were reserved only for men is significant.  There is absolutely no biblical evidence given for women filling those roles.  I agree that many of the passages surrounding the restrictions put on women were given within a situation specific context.  However, when we consider the totality of scripture—woman as ezer, male priesthood, warnings toward women in authority, male headship in marriage, and the emphasis on wifely submission, it seems obvious that there is something going on with regard to God’s desire for order within the body of Christ.  No distinctions with regard to gifting or value, distinctions with regard to office—that seems the conclusion that is truest to the totality of God’s Word. 
 With that said, I would note that I see this in now way hindering women.  To the contrary, as John Eldredge has stated in Captivating: “Issues of headship and authority are intended for the benefit of women, not their suppression” (211).  In my marriage, I consider my husband the head and leader.  He uses this weighty responsibility to bless me, serve me, and promote me daily.  Yes, men throughout history have misused this authority.  Men have abused, perverted, and exploited this right.  They have used their strength for selfish gain.  But just because it has been misused does not make the model wrong.  Just because sex has been perverted and distorted through its misuse does not make it wrong!  Sex is still a glorious, God-glorifying, and marvelous act when used correctly. It is the same with gender roles within the church.  Yes, they have been misused, but that does not mean we throw them out.  We use our unique roles to bless each other, and most importantly to glorify God.  It is all about Him. It is not about our rights, not even about what we can and cannot do. 
 I’m still contemplating some of the issues raised, wondering how they bear weight in this issue.  For one, no one brought up the fact that we only have an example of Priscilla teaching alongside her husband.  What does that mean?  We don’t have a single biblical example of a woman teaching a mixed group by herself.  Is there a reason for this?  And is it possible that the two most prominent New Testament women ministered with their husbands (Junia and Priscilla)?  What about Phoebe?  If it is important for women to minister with the covering of their husbands, what does this mean for single women? 
The only other real question that lingers in my mind is the issue of whether a woman can be a regular teacher of the Scriptures in a church setting (as Sarah Sumner and Barbara Feil do in their churches).  And, if not, why is that different than an academic setting?  Is it possible to be a regular teacher without fulfilling the office of teaching elder?  I think it is, but why would I feel comfortable teaching a coed class at my church but not a sermon on Sunday morning?  Perhaps there is an important distinction, but I’m not sure what it is at this point.  I currently have no problem with a woman teaching in any setting (and I’m so thankful for my female seminary professors!), but would not support a woman fulfilling the role of lead pastor/elder. 
In closing, I would once more emphasize that I believe men and women have equal gifting and distinct roles.  Just because I cook dinner and Jeff does the dishes does not mean that one of us is more valuable than the other (we’d be in trouble if I let him cook!).  We are both made in the image of God, gifted, loved, valued beyond measure, and given distinct roles to play both in the home and in the body of Christ.  Some of these roles overlap, some do not.  Some are not clearly defined and are thus open for interpretation.  My husband would echo the sentiments of Blomberg who said, “ the principle of male headship [should] take every possible step to demonstrate to a watching world how loving and self-sacrificing it can be.”  May we, men and women, take every possible step to demonstrate how loving and self-sacrificing we can be to each other.  Let us, women, respect the men in our lives.  Let men value and love women.  We are broken, fallen people, but we can work together to perform this dance for the Kingdom of God, displaying His beauty and glory to a dying world.  This is my goal and aim as a Complementary Egalitarian. 
 

I am such a homebody.  It’s no wonder that Dutch is too.  He can only sleep well in his own bed.  When we’re traveling or out and about with a busy day, he just gets all out of whack.  But the moment we’re home, he’s happy, relaxed — he eats well, sleeps well.  He’s just a homebody like his mommy.

This week is Spring Break.  And amazingly, all our our activities are on break this week.  No seminary classes, no Foundations class at church, no Cornerstone classes in Corvallis, no TA papers to grade, and no tutoring for Jeff in Gervais.  It’s a break–a real break.  And mom and dad are leaving tomorrow morning for Salt Lake City to visit Kris and Nikki, so we have a five days home by ourselves with nowhere we have to go.  Ahhh…can it be true?!  This morning I woke early with a splitting headache (I think I’ve discovered that my head is a place of precarious balance.  And this is related to my being a homebody to the core.  When I am in a routine, getting good sleep, eating healthily, and relatively calm, I am headache free. But as soon as you toss in a plate of mashed potatoes, white bread, chocolate cake, and a fabulously fun family extravaganza (read: Easter), my body decides that the teetering balance if off and will therefore throw me a headache.)  At any rate, when I woke with a headache, I got up and realized I had a glorious option in front of me–taking tylenol and going back to bed!  No class, no needing to get my quiet time in before Dutch got up because of the busyness of the day ahead.  And so I did, sleeping in longer than I have since Dutch was born–8:20!  And because my son is such a homebody, when he’s in his own crib, he will sing or talk to himself contentedly in the morning until I go in and get him.  So we started our day off with a great night’s sleep.  Then we all had breakfast together.  Jeff and I cuddle on the couch watching Dutch play until 9am, relishing the fact that we could.  THen we all took a long walk together, going down to the river, talking, praying, talking some more.  After that it was bathtime–leisurely letting Dutch splash and play while we talked and watched.  Before we knew it it was lunch time, and a delicious zucchini, brown rice, and chicken meal tasted heavenly and nutritious.  Now Dutch is in his crib or a nap and Jeff and I are savoring the pleasure of reading and working on seminary homework, working side by side doing what we love.  I’ve vowed not to wear makeup all week, and not to leave the house if I can help it.  My headache is gone.  I’m caught up on laundry and somehow all things are in balance.  Ahhh…Spring Break.  Thank You, Lord, for the wisdom of taking seasons for rest.  You’re so smart. 

There is something about Corvallis.  This weekend Jeff and I spent a whirwind two-day weekend in Corvallis where he performed a wedding for a long-time friend.  Some things never change.  I just can’t help it–I think Corvallis will always be home to me. 

 Corvallis is where I really started walking with the Lord, 18-years-old and too skinny, rooming with my dear friend Janae.  Naive beyong belief, hanging out at frat parties, asking half-drunk frat guys, “Do you love Jesus?”  Oh how God protected me.  McNary dorm, 6th floor, where we started a little make-shift Bible study with the other girls down the hall, most of which weren’t believers, not because we “should” but because we were just so preciously clueless we didn’t know enough to attend a campus ministry but we wanted to love Jesus and wanted other people to too!  Campus Villa apartments, where we did a weekly Bible study with our brothers, Jeremy and Kris, and their friends, studying everything from the rapture to dating.    The ultra-ghetto house on 5th street where Janae and I took over my brother’s rent when he graduated, sharing a room the size of a closet, in a house with a bunch of older guys (what were we thinking?) who drank a lot but protected and looked out for us like burly older brothers.  Campus Crusade for Christ, where I first saw this frat guy emceeing and thought, “My mom would probably want me to marry a guy like that.”  His name was Jeff Patterson. I wasn’t interested. 

Corvallis is where I graduated from college, went on staff with my church’s college ministry, and discovered Jeff again for the first time.  This time he was funny and handsome and loved God so much it intrigued me.  Real Life, where we were trained and mentored and discipled.  Where we baptized and led people to Christ, saw lives changed, and gave every ounce of ourselves to the college students in the ministry. 

Corvallis is where Jeff and I fell in love, dated, got engaged.  Where we bought our first house, giddily taking the keys and painting walls the night before we moved, sipping sparkling cider and walking through the rooms dreaming of how we’d make it our own. 

I lived in Corvallis 6 years and Jeff 8, but what strikes me is that I feel most known there.  We step foot in the church office and instantly we see at least half a dozen people jump up to greet us, eyes lighting up, hugs all around.  Today I went to Red Horse, the little coffee shop that was my home away from home — where Darcy would meet me for discipleship times, where I spent innumerable hours meeting with college girls talking about God.  As I walked in this morning John, the owner, instantly ran over and gave me a huge hug and kiss on the top of my head.  He demanded I tell him all about life and Dutch and what was going on — even though I’d not been in there in over a year.   I couldn’t help but hum the Cheers song for the rest of the day, “You wanna be where everybody knows your name.”

I supposed Corvallis is so precious to me because of the rich history there.  I feel like I can just be.  I don’t have to prove myself, don’t have to peform, don’t have to try to fit in.  It’s just right. I guess in that way I can’t help but describe it as anything other than home.  I don’t know where we’ll end up — probably many places. I am content being wherever God leads us.  By choice home is wherever my boys are.  But they’ll always be a place inside that that finishes the song, Sweet Home Cor-vallis.  It’s just the way it is. 

Today we celebrate Good Friday.  In a free moment today between taking Dutch for his 15-month check-up, getting a tetanus shot (how did 12 years go by so fast?), ironing Jeff’s shirts, putting Dutch down for a nap, finishing the laundry, and packing our bags for a weekend in Corvallis, I sat down and asked God to help me contemplate Good Friday.  With a day this busy, I didn’t want to blink and realize the day was gone without remembering what the day is all about.  But why good Friday.  Germans call this day “mourning Friday” (in German of course), and some think perhaps Good Friday came from God’s Friday, the same way that goodbye came from God be with you.  But whatever the reason, Good Friday has stuck.  Of all Fridays each year, this one is designated as good.

But how can it be good?  What strikes me about its name is how paradoxical and perfect it is at the same time.  We call it good because we know about Sunday.  We know that the day after tomorrow is Sunday, and so we know that Jesus rises, we know that our sins are forgiven, we know that sin, death, and the grave have been conquered and we will live eternally with God in glory if we put our faith in Jesus’ finished work on the cross.  Hallelujah! 

But consider just for another moment what this means for us today, what this means for our perspective.  I can guarantee that Peter, John, Mary, those who watched Jesus, didn’t think it was good.  Jesus, disfigured from beatings, strips of open, oozing, flesh hanging from his tattered back, stumbling with exhaustion, pain, and dehydration.  Jesus, their hope, their only hope crucified like a crook right in front of their eyes.  Jesus was their only hope.  They’d given their lives to follow Him.  They’d left their livelihood, believed His words, trusted in His promises.  Jesus, God made man, perfect, holy, righteous, subjected to a torment fit for the worst of sinners.  They did not think it was good.

Good Friday is good because of we know the end of the story.  Why could Jesus subject Himself to the torture of the cross, bearing the full wrath of God poured out on Him for the sake of a world who had rejected Him?  Because He knew the end of the story.  It didn’t make the pain any less real.  The anguish was the same, but He endured because of the joy set before Him (Heb 12).  Fifteen months ago, when my water broke, I was excited to go to the hospital.  I was knowingly headed toward the worst pain I have ever experienced in my entire life, but I entered into it gladly because I knew the end of the story (or at least hoped–trusting I’d have a healthy baby).  I knew that the pain was worth it because of baby Dutch.  The pain accomplished a far more glorious end.  It didn’t make it any less painful, and I’m still not quite ready to have another baby (!), but as any mom can attest–it’s well worth it.

The example is weak because in giving birth the end result is so clear, so vivid.  But in life our pain is so much more confusing, and emotional pain is world’s worse than physical pain.  I am still haunted by the death of my friend Sara Stokes, who was taken to be with the Lord at just 25 years of age last June.  Just yesterday I ran into her dad, and after hugging him, my whole being ached in tasting just a drop of the unfathomable grief he must daily encounter.  Ron Hordichok’s family, with open and raw wounds still from his sudden death … I can’t even fathom the pain and loss.

So the question is the same. How can it be good?  In The Hawk and the Dove right now, Father Peregrine is going through unimaginable suffering.  At times I want to quit reading because it just seems too much.  Too horrid. Too unthinkable.   How can it be good?  It only scratches the surface of what Christ suffered, and yet somehow we call it good.  Because of what it accomplished.  Because we know the end of the story.

What is the end of our story?  We don’t know the short-term end. We don’t know if our sick parent will live, if our wayward child will return, if our sorrow will be relieved.  But we do know that Christ has said, “Behold, I make all things new.”  We know the end of our story.  We know that He wipes every tear from our eye, creates a new heaven and and a new earth, and that we will live for eternity with Him.  The end of our story was accomplished on that day so long ago that we can accurately call Good Friday. 

I always wonder when I go to a retreat and have some awesome spiritual experience, Is this the real thing or just some spiritual high?  It’s not uncommon to come back from a retreat levitating, hovering above the ground of common life, only to get in your car and get stuck in traffic, or arive home to whiny children, or open the mail and find an overdue cell phone bill, which somehow seems to crumble your little spiritual tower of peace into shambles. 

Well, I thought of this too, with regards to all that God did (See Amazing Grace (my chains are gone)).  Was it the real thing or just a retreat high?  Monday we hit the ground running, and after an insanely busy Sunday and a hectic Monday morning (including Dutch’s explosive save-it-up-for-days poop), we arrived at Multnomah for our 10-hour day of class.  Now school is probably the place where I feel the most free, interestingly enough.  I genuinely love being there and dont’ think I’ve ever not looked forward to going to class.  But looking back I still realize that there were a lot of ways I was bound by those chains.  Telling myself I shouldn’t speak up in class because what if people thought I was showing off or trying to get attention.  Being afraid of saying something dumb, or at least “unprofound” in my comment.  Trying to be meek and quiet by abaonding my own personality.  But this Monday was different. Yes, it was true.  Unwittingly I had a bounce in my step.  When our visiting professor asked for volunteers willing to look silly and do a funny communication game in the front of the class, I found my hand up in the air — why not?  It was so fun!  When I had a question or comment, I just said it, rather than overanalyzing it to death. Now that doesn’t obviously mean that I dominated discussions or just spouted off every thought–please don’t think that’s what I’m saying. But what I’m saying is that I didn’t filter my actions through the fear filter.  I just lived. 

But the real test is Tuesdays.  Some of you probably read my depths-of-despair blog from a few months back about “stupid Tuesdays” and how much stress I was feeling.  A lot of my fear/chains/anxiety was centered around feelings at church. NOT because of the church as if it was their fault in any way, but through a couple of situations I’d somehow felt that people thought we were just seeking some position or status, and so I let myself be chained by worrying about what other people thought, and obsessing over “doing it right”.  Besides that, I felt like we didn’t belong or fit in right, so I tried to figure out how to make it all fit.  It was like walking around in size 7 shoes–close, but not quite right. 

So tonight, without even knowing it, I got ready for Jeff’s class in anticipation–joyful expectation.  Instead of being worried about people thinking we’re too young or judging our motives, I was just excited to be with God’s people and be me.  I dressed like I wanted to dressed.  And I haven’t felt that kind of joy in church in SO LONG.  I realized, I was me!  I enjoyed people like never before because I was thinking about them, instead of somehow worrying about whether I was measuring up or not. During class, Jeff asked me to share about a sermon I’d recently shared in seminary, and I did, joyfully and enthusiastically and happily, without saying “You better act meek and only say two sentences or less because people will think you’re trying to get attention.”  What ridiculousness!  Instead, I let the words flow from a free and enthusiastic heart.  After class, I went around to find different people to talk to, enthusiastically greeting them, instead of cowering in a corner with Dutch, wanting to be quiet little Kari who shouldn’t draw too much attention.  Anyway, it may all sound like small things–but they were huge things in my heart.  And you know what–I felt like I belonged more tonight than ever before! I didn’t feel like an outsider, I felt right at home, with people I could simply love and with whom I could give my whole free self and not worry about what they thought. 

I know–most of you probably learned all these lessons in middle school, huh?  My dad said he learned this when he was 19.  Well, I’m a little slow in the maturity department.  Maybe I’m going through spiritual puberty–no, that sounds too weird.  More like a baby bird learning to fly.  Whatever it is, I think it’s the real thing.  And I’m glad. 

… When brethren dwell together … or families.  Tonight I just have to say that I’m so thankful for living with Mom and Dad.  Yes, I know — you think I’m schizophrenic.  I know I’ve devoted an inordinate amount of real estate on this blog to whining about the woes of multi-generational living, but the truth of the matter is, I’m thankful in a million genuine ways.  For example, the amazing, wonderful, life-changing prayer retreat that Jeff and I were so privileged to go to.  How do you think that was possible?  Because my parents were willing to give up their three days to take care of our son, including driving out twice to the remote retreat center where we stayed, once so that I could nurse Dutch and then at the end so that we could get Dutch and hurry over the mountain to Bend without backtracking.  Yes, they did this–exhausting themselves and their gas tank, so that we could do that prayer retreat. While we were worshipping and soaking up the presence of the Lord, they were wiping Dutch’s poopy bottom (although it is such a cute poopy bottom!), and sleeping next to the monitor so they coud hear every whimper at night.  Saints.  Yes, they are saints. 

Then, after a quick recovery over the weekend, Monday rolled around and it was once again their turn with the Dutcher.  This morning, just minutes before Jeff and I were racing out the door, Dutch pooped one of his I’ve-been-saving-this-up-for-days poops, which wound up everywhere from his armpits to his knees somehow.  We quickly wiped him down, turned on the bathwater, and handed our naked little sleepy-headed boy over to mom and dad to begin their 12-hour day of Dutch duty.  As we drove to class, I just had to marvel at how thankful I was.  If it were not for them, I could not get a seminary education.  There is no way we could make this all work.  Yes, their house, garage, and shop is absolutely teeming with all of our stuff.  Yes, there are a few too many of us living in close quarters. Yes, we’re all looking forward to the day when we have at least a few miles between us.  But for now, we are making some memories we will never forget.  The days of Dutch escaping from my dad during diaper changes and running around the house naked, then squatting in the corner of the wood floor and pooping (yes, he did that!).  The days of Dutch obsessed with playing outside, to the point that whenever a reference to “outside” was made, he’d grab his shoes and go stand by the door like a puppy.  The days of letting Dutch sit in the driver’s seat of the Jeep for 45 minutes at a time while he made motor noises, kicking his legs in sheer contentment.  The days of Dutch going for walks “by himself” pushing away Papa’s hand from helping him, exploring the grass and flowers and rocks and bugs.  Yes, it’s a crazy adventurous season, but I’m so thankful.

So, thanks Mom and Dad, for all your help.  How about taking next week off (spring break) — you can escape to Salt Lake City where Kris lives and actually get some rest! 🙂