war on women

Jesus, Juxtaposed

The stuff I was thinking yesterday got my daughter thinking, too:

Two weeks ago I was sitting in church watching an annual update video, the kind that lets you know what God has been doing through the community and whom He’s been reaching. I find that one of the beautiful things about a large church (there are plenty of beautiful things about small churches, too) is that so many people are out there serving the kingdom in so many ways that it’s impossible to even be aware of everything that’s going on until one of these videos comes along. I love these videos. This most recent one highlighted a new global partner, a group of people in Nepal who are rescuing girls from sex trafficking, loving them, and empowering them:

“Ramesh and his team rescue girls who have been trafficked into prostitution and slavery and turn them into church planters and community builders.”

I wish I could show you the original video announcing the partnership with Ramesh and his team, the one that’s more of a mini-documentary about what these people are doing over there instead of just a few lines, but my google search came up empty.

I will tell you this, what’s happening in Nepal has Jesus all over it.

When women are valued and allowed to take on positions of leadership to transform their communities and the kingdom, the Holy Spirit is present.

But all of this couldn’t help but make me think about another video, one I viewed years ago that stands in harsh juxtaposition to the one in the annual update. The video is called A Good Soldier, and it features former Mars Hill pastor Mark Driscoll talking about the requirements for a church planter.  For nine minutes, Mark uses the words “man” and “men” over and over and over again, speaking of women only to say that although 60% of Christians are women and that he’s glad that women are loving Jesus, we need men.

Mark doesn’t believe that women are called or qualified to plant churches, and that’s a shame. I watched the video again this morning to refresh my memory, and I honestly wish I hadn’t. It was hard to do so without vomiting. It felt like poison. The synopsis I gave spared you a lot of the macho, misogynistic details, but if you want to view it for yourself you can do so (at your own risk) here: https://youtu.be/JIrIKbCz3n4.

I’ll tell you this, the Jesus I know is nowhere to be found.

It absolutely breaks my heart knowing that many Christians would consider the second video to be more in line with God’s will than the first.

Something needs to change.

Amen, sister.

You can read more from my girl here:  I’ll Return to Biblical Womanhood

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life, Light

Wisdom to the Mighty, Succor to the Brave

My playlist was quiet this uneventful week.  Except for yesterday.  Yesterday my daughter and I went to the early matinee to see Selma.  Heart wrenching Selma.  I have something to say about it.  Tomorrow.

Then last night we went to her church and listened to three called and courageous individuals tell stories of their fights for freedom. Stories of the long, slow, committed, two-steps-forward-one-step-back fight to end sex trafficking as they rescue one precious, exploited child at a time.  Stories of relief brought to Syrian refugees and healing brought to Sudanese boys inducted, brutally, into brutal armies.

One speaker said something like this:

We look at all the suffering in the world and we ask, “Where are you God?”

And God says, “I’m in the Congo; I’m in the Philippines, on the streets with the children.  Where are you?

Another speaker said that the world is overwhelmingly ugly.  But it is also overwhelmingly beautiful.  God told her to fight for the beauty.

Isn’t that exactly what God told all of us to do when He first created us in the garden?

God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it.  Genesis 1:28

Subdue = kabash = “to bring into bondage, tread down”

Lots of people think Genesis 1:28 means that we are supposed to dominate other creatures, be kings of the forest.  But if everything God created was good up to that point, then the only thing lurking that needed to be bound and trampled was His enemy.

“Subdue evil,”  He said, “Fight for the beauty.”

The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to cultivate it and keep it.  Genesis 2:15

Cultivate = ‘abad = “to do work, to serve God”

Keep = shaman = “to guard, keep watch and ward, protect, save life”

“Keep watch over this world,” He said. “Protect it from the evil one.”

That is our purpose.  And this is our song:

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword:
His truth is marching on.

Glory, glory, hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps,
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence in the dim and flaring lamps:
His day is marching on.

Glory, glory, hallelujah!
His day is marching on.

I have read a fiery Gospel
writ in burnished rows of steel:
“As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal”;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Since God is marching on.

Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Since God is marching on.

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat:
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on

Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Our God is marching on.

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me.
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free
While God is marching on.

Glory, glory, hallelujah!
While God is marching on.

He is coming like the glory of the morning on the wave,
He is Wisdom to the mighty, He is Succour to the brave,
So the world shall be His footstool, and the soul of Time His slave,
Our God is marching on.

Glory, glory, hallelujah.
Our God is marching on.

© 2015, The Reluctant Baptist

http://www.love146.org

http://www.worldrelief.org

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Playlist of the Week.”

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church nonsense, life, Light, Stories from the Island, war on women

A Tale of Two Meetings

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I was going to start with something light – perhaps an exposé of our deaconess duties being merely busy work for church ladies.  But that will have to wait.  Something has transpired that forces me to jump right in to the deep end.

Two weeks ago I met with a middle-aged, non-denominational woman who heads up a ministry to street women.  I invited her and her team, along with several of the women to whom they minister, to a fabulous all-expense-paid retreat.  The meeting was a delight.

The other day I met with a young Baptist woman who also heads up an outreach to street women.  The purpose of the meeting was to invite her and her team of volunteers to the same all-expense-paid retreat.  The meeting, I am sorry to say, was a disaster.

I had not met either of the women prior to my coffee dates with them.  What made one a delight and the other a disaster?  Being Baptist.

The older, non-Baptist woman brought her granddaughter – a precocious and confident five-year-old – to our meeting.

The young Baptist brought the vice president of her board – a sour-faced gentleman probably in his sixties or seventies.

When I explained the purpose of the retreat and extended the invitation to the older woman she said, “I don’t know how to respond without crying.”  She then started to tell me about the women she would invite and ended by saying, once again, that the invitation was an answer to prayer.  She was eager for the women of her ministry to hear what God had laid on my heart to share with them.  I left that meeting with a jubilant spirit.  I had met a new friend and I could hardly wait to get to know her.

When I explained the purpose of the retreat to the young Baptist, she expressed gratitude over the invitation for a time of refreshment but said she would need to see a written copy of the teaching I planned to share before giving me a final answer.  She had to protect the grown women on her team from possible heresy after all.  Because Baptist women apparently have no discernment of their own. That’s when I became nauseous.  I was cordial to the young Baptist but I left that meeting offended and a little ticked.  I composed a snarly but amusing mental tweet under the hashtag #ihatemychurch.

Fortunately, after it was all said and done, the dates didn’t work for the young Baptist and her team.  They had a fundraising event planned for the weekend of the retreat.  Thank you Lord.

I invited them because I wanted to hear what they had to say;  I wanted to give them the opportunity to hear what women who had escaped life on the streets had to say; and I wanted to give them the opportunity to hear what God has to say.  God, however, knew better and He spared me a bundle of wasted money.

Here’s what He told me that night as I was doing the dinner dishes:

1. Young Baptist women do not have a voice.

2. The sour-faced henchman was there to make sure it stays that way.

I could expound a whole lot on #2.  In fact, I have.  I’ll let you know when the book comes out.

With the non-denominational woman there was freedom.  Freedom to let women speak their minds, share their experiences, learn from one another and hear a fresh word from God.  With the Baptist woman there was oppression.  Palpable oppression.  She couldn’t even meet with me without a man there to supervise.  And that is when I knew I had to start my blog with this post, and with this question:  Should Baptists be rescuing women from the sex industry?  From human trafficking?  Will those women escape one form of bondage only to find themselves in a bondage that is far more insidious.  One that disguises itself as holy?

Shudder to think.

We’ve got a lot to talk about.

 

 

 

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