In an Absence of Comic Relief

I remember watching this movie as a child, but I don't recall the name. I think it was one of those made-for-tv movies. In it was a somewhat classic image of the power-wielding, abusive husband. He was also religious. Christian. I think maybe a pastor. The story's focus was on this abusive family situation. A major component was this husband's spouting of Scripture verses and biblical themes. His beatings were peppered with calls to obedience and commands of submission. As expected (justly), this pastor husband was painted as beastly and even delusional. There was no humanizing of this monster. Not a moment of comic relief.

Without surprise, the tormented wife was not religious. And in some respects, if my recall of childhood movie watching serves me faithful, religion was positioned as responsible for the abuse. Clearly this man was misrepresenting the long cherished words of Scripture. He was perverting the words toward his own gain. Yet the movie welled up in me the feeling that the Bible's possession of pervertable commands demanded its partial responsibility. Verses with such dark clouds over them deserve some of the blame. Regardless of context, the verses still said what they said.

I have thought on this movie and similar stories throughout the years since. As a student of the Bible, what it has to say about the relationships between women and men have given me more than my fair share of trouble. And for some of these passages, I still wrestle with how exactly it all works out.

But for one of these passages, indeed the one that speaks the most to the marriage relationship, it would do us all some good to set our assumptions aside and actually look at what the text says. In his letter to the Ephesians, the apostle Paul takes a significant portion of space to explain what it looks like as the Spirit of God fills believers with "submitting to one another out of reverence to Christ" (5:21, ESV). He shows readers what this looks like in three types of relationships (commonly known as a "house code"), and the first of these is marital. So we're all on the same page, I have the entire text here:

Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife even as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit in everything to their husbands.

Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. In the same way husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the church, because we are members of his body. "Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh." This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church. However, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband. (Ephesians 5:22-33)

Now I could go on for quite a while in several different directions on the beauty and nuances of the apostle's words here. But what I simply want to demonstrate at this point is how our assumptions mislead us to misapply what is actually being said.

Certain key words and phrases often catch our eye. "Wives, submit." "The husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church." "Wives should submit in everything to their husbands." Let me here begin by pointing out that all of these commands are directed toward the wife-half of the teaching. In other words, the teaching is split in half, with the first directed toward what wives are supposed to do and second toward what husbands are supposed to do. All (as in every single occurrence) of the times Paul talks about wives submitting are in the wife-half of the teaching.

Now, it's true that the women are given a difficult task here, especially if we are careful to not inappropriately water down the words Paul uses. However, I keep in mind that according to 5:21, we are all to submit to one another in the community of faith. I also kind of feel that if God is calling wives to some particular focus in a relationship, that may be more between him and them, as opposed to my responsibility to monitor their following.

I think as husbands (for myself and any others) the need is much more pressing that we make sure we are fulfilling our half of Paul's teaching. But this is where I have seen far too many (maybe even all) expositions on this passage get terribly side-tracked. When we talk about the husband's "role" in marriage, we look at what the wife-half says about husbands rather than what the husband-half says about husbands.

Did you catch that? It seems most rational to me that if we want to see what husbands are supposed to do, we should concentrate on what it says husbands should do. The problem is that traditionally we look more at what the wives' calling says about husbands.

I am issuing a call that we look to what 5:25-33 says husbands should do. It is almost as if men need not even look to verses 22-24, since it is between God and the women anyway.

So what does it say men are to do? How are men to live our their biblical role as husbands? Lord over their wives? Ensure their "headship?" Call wives to submission? Demand obedience? No. No. No. No on every count. Men are never told to demand anything of their wives. They are never told to make sure they do anything. The husband-role is NOT to make sure their wives fulfill theirs. And they are certainly not called to be any sort of lord or master or boss or ruler.

"But they are called to be as Christ over the church," the objection cries out! See, this is where our self-made, culture-forming assumptions haze over the truth of Paul's words. It is true, the husband's role as "head" of his wife is explained as Christ's role as head of the church. However (this is where you lean forward and listen closely), Paul does not say, "Husbands, lead your wives, as Christ leads the church and reigns sovereignly over her on his throne." No this is not throneship imagery. As truly as Christ does reign in that way, it is not the imagery Paul uses to explain the husband's role.

Instead (you're still leaning forward) Paul uses imagery of complete self-sacrifice. Of the highest and truest form of self-denial. He writes, "Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her," i.e. on the cross. That's it. The rest of the verses explain this kind of sacrifice and how a man's self-denial serves as a picture of Jesus' love for humanity. The marriage relationship is designed to be a picture of the Gospel. Nothing about ruling or lording. No imagery of domination. No one saying, "I'm the king of this castle," or "It's my way or the highway." It would do us all good to repeat: Men are NEVER told to make sure their wives do anything!

When Jesus was on his way to the cross, he did not assert his authority. He did not straighten his pose and pronounce his headship. When they attacked him (verbally and physically) he did not retaliate. He stood silent. Silent. When they stole his dignity, he said nothing of roles and responsibilities. When they marched him to his own death, he went. He let them kill him. And this death spoke of his love more than any other act in all of history. This is Gospel.

And this is the imagery the apostle uses to describe how men are to relate to their wives. This is the husband's role. We have much to learn. Much indeed. What would it look like if husbands did not retaliate when attacked? What if they did not feel the need to reassert their headship when he felt their dignity torn away? What if, when husbands felt attacked (verbally or even physically) they simply stood silent? What would that look like? What if husbands, in an attempt to form biblically sound marriages, sacrificed their authority, power, respect, and even their decision-making "rights"? This is to say nothing of truly selfish desires, preferences, and comforts. What if all of these treasured and masculine attributes were laid on the alter of love? I'm not sure I've ever seen such a marriage, but I think it may communicate the love and sacrifice of Jesus Christ in the most powerful way. I think it may bring a message that speaks the Gospel.

So this is my calling. As husbands this is what we are called to embrace. It surely involves much more watching over ourselves than watching over our wives. And maybe, just maybe, wives would find it easier to fulfill whatever marital obligations Paul brings them, if they know and trust and feel that we are fulfilling ours. So I issue an invitation to all men, but especially those who profess a love for Jesus, to follow him in the most fundamental and critical way. To love our wives till it hurts. To love them like Jesus loves us. I issue a call to put our assumptions away and live as Paul has called us. To forget the throne. And to pick up a cross.

A Whirlwind Weekend, part three

More than Friday's meeting, more than Sunday's message, I have been dreading Monday morning's surgery for weeks. It's rather pathetic, I suppose. It's not like I had heart surgery or anything. It was really quite minimal. It was oral surgery. Yet, even the term "oral surgery" possibly makes it sound bigger than it is.

I had my four wisdom teeth extracted. It sounds like such a small thing. They're only teeth. As a child, your teeth just fall out. Others may be pulled for various reasons, but nonetheless... No one sweats over these.

Except me. I have never had a single surgery in my entire life. I've never had anesthesia or an IV shoved into my arm. These are all firsts. And I've been terrified over many a horror story about dry sockets, the condition that occurs by any number of actions that keep the blood clotting to take after the surgery. Dry sockets, I have heard, make you very ill for a up to a couple weeks. All this in addition to the typical dietary restrictions that follow the procedure.

I suppose it is the inconvenience of it all that has peaked the most anxiety in me. Though they say it takes a good four days to recover from the surgery (the second and third are supposed to be the worst in pain, stiffness, and swelling) and begin eating somewhat normally, I am planning on returning to work on Wednesday evening. I want and need to get back to work. On top of that, I have a ton of classwork that has been accumulating. If I got dry sockets and became ill for a couple weeks, this would be an even greater setback.

But now that I've covered all my fears leading up to the surgery, I can celebrate that it actually went very well. Though I could still lose my clotting and get dry sockets, the surgery itself was a breeze. Dr. Zak gestured to the bag of IV solution and said, "This is not the anaesthetic. It will only make you smile and feel good, but that's it for now." He walked away, and BOOM! I was out. The next thing I new, I was sitting on a couch in another room as my wife and daughters joined around me and I was apparently attempting to sign something to my wife.

Piece of cake. No nausea. My mouth didn't even hurt. By that afternoon, I really felt pretty good. And now on day two, I am amazed that this has gone as well as it has. I don't feel sick, yet I am forced to sit, reading and watching movies. These are pretty cool days.


I wonder why I am so prone to fear and worry. I mean, it's not like I am consumed with such things. But all of us: We get so needlessly worked up over things that are really pretty small. I wonder how my fear--be it of preaching on Sunday or of surgery on Monday--reflects my view of God. My perception of his power and his goodness. The problem with me isn't so much how I see his power. I believe he is all-mighty and sovereign and can accomplish anything he wills. My problem isn't even his goodness. I believe he is. At least generally speaking. I guess where I wrestle is in how his goodness manifests itself in my own life. How much his goodness is personal. How much it's for me.

So days like these are really good for my understanding of God's blessings. This weekend has had some pretty incredible and challenging events. And my nerves have peaked in a couple different ways. And yet on the other side of each of them, I have found myself quite thankful. I have found myself standing before a God who is full of both lively adventure and blessed calm.


At least until I get dry sockets.

A Whirlwind Weekend, part two

Okay, I really have to watch myself here. I just don't have much time to write on this, but I know that I have to say something about it. Everyone keeps asking us how Sunday went, so here it is.

Sunday morning Justina and I went to West Hills Community Church in Westmont. I have been in contact with their elders and am being considered as a possible pastoral candidate. So this Sunday I was invited to come out and preach.

The morning before, everything was looking really good. I had my message prepared several days in advance and was just trying to wait on God and go into this thing prayed up with an open mind. However Saturday night as I was looking over my sermon, I realized something just didn't fit. Logically it wasn't working. This is in addition to the fact that I realized it was about 20 minutes longer than my given timeframe. This threw me all in a frenzy. And though it would seem easily fixed, I labored all evening and kept running into roadblocks.

Now you must understand, this is very difficult for me. I like everything ready and prepared. Especially for something really important, like when near-candidating for a church I would really like to pastor. This adds extra pressure to not mess this thing up by not being prepared. Though 24 hours earlier, I was calm, collected, and confident, I had become a bit of a wreck. I don't really get nervous about teaching and preaching, but here, all of a sudden, I was completely terrified. I had visions of blowing this thing. Of getting up there and this thing just exploding in my face. And, of course, of losing a chance at this opportunity to pastor that I would really like to have.

But then the unexpected: As I looked over my notes one last time in the parking lot, it all just snapped back together right in place. I entered the building and felt right at home. I joined the community in some really heart-felt worship (which is often times difficult for me). And as I walked up to the podium, I felt calm. As I spoke, it all just flowed out. And it seemed to flow well. As I prayed and rejoined the congregation, I just felt this overwhelming and divine presence surround me. I felt God's blessing. I felt his peace.

Now I don't' know if this means I will be the new pastor at West Hills. There is much more to the story than what is listed here. This is a church that has nearly run out of people. There are little resources, and the budget-to-income comparison may be in danger. But the people that are left are a great group of individuals dedicated to rolling up their sleeves and making this thing work. Before showing up I wasn't sure what to expect on a number of different levels ... because nearly all ministries have ceased due to lack of resources. I was expecting worship with 80s choruses to a single piano. And we left our girls with friends since I was unsure about children's programming. But to our surprise the worship was really good. Something almost as well put together at Bethel's Powerhouse band. And they did indeed have something for children, so next time (?) we will bring our girls. Anyway, I'm running into the potential of getting off track and making this more than you and I have time for.

I'm not sure what will happen with West Hills. As I said there are many issues to work though. Many questions on both their end and mine. They aren't even sure they are going to take on a new pastor. They may surrender everything to the denomination for a church restart or enter some sort of "merger" with a larger church. But if things keep progressing, you'll doubtlessly hear more. Though I'm sure from what I've told you so far, you are wondering what on earth I would want to take a spot like this. But I see almost innumerable opportunities in this community. And I'm not going to lie: the risk really excites me.

I'm getting off track again. I was supposed to end this thing.

So let me just say this. Sunday was brilliant. I wasn't sure what to expect, and I was more than a little freaked out as it neared. But as I sat in God's presence, he blessed. I guess I just want to testify as to how great it is to be in his hand. And I pray that I will continually learn to yield myself to his care. I look forward to the ride ahead. This journey of faith can be really terrifying and discouraging at times. But it is also really refreshing. I love his freshness.

And then I had oral surgery the next day. Stay tuned for part three.

A Whirlwind Weekend, part one

Wow, what a week this has been! This week has been so eventful, I think I could easily check out the rest of the season and still call it an eventful one. Now for some these events are nothing of anxiety or excitement. But for me, call me a rookie, they most definitely were.

On Friday morning I met to discuss theology with two leaders of Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, otherwise known as Jehovah's Witnesses (Knock! Knock!). On Sunday morning I spoke at a church that I may soon pastor. And on yesterday, on Monday, I had my wisdom teeth extracted, which just happened to be the first surgery in all the history of Drew. Each of these three events appeared quite significant in my mind. And in an ideal world, I would blog on each of them.

Then again, in an ideal world, I would also love to write (1) on Pennsylvania's long awaited primary today (I'm the kind of guy that would love to write on politics, but it wouldn't contribute much), (2) on a couple mind-altering, philosophy-of-ministry-assaulting articles I read yesterday out of the new Leadership journal, and (3) on my virtually unbearable case of "senioritis" as I finish my MDiv. But this is not an ideal world, so I will not write on any of these latter items and only briefly on former.

Friday's meeting was actually part of a project for a class I'm taking. I had to choose a non-mainstream religious group to study and interview. It was to focus on theological points of soteriology, drawing comparisons between an Evangelical understanding and theirs. The primary point of the meeting was to serve as an opportunity to share the Gospel with leaders of the group. This is a different context than what most of us are used to. I'm not Ronald Paul Danatus. I am not much of an apologist or evangelist. But this was a good exercise. I met with an elder (basically their pastor) of the Kingdom Hall (like a local church) where two of my co-workers attend. And, though I wasn't expecting it, I should have: This elder invited his regional higher up to come and "lend assistance." So it was two on one. And while I just had my Bible, they had a library of books that they were constantly flipping back and forth through. Yet I think I held my own. And I challenged them on a few things, which they said they would research, that I am almost certain they will not.

My purpose here is not to give a detailed account of our time together. But what struck me most is their conviction that they know the truth. Their absolute resilience to their beliefs. I have no doubt that they are sincere in their presentations. I see no reason to believe that they are purposefully conniving or manipulative. They really believe this stuff. That this is from God. That it is what the Bible teaches.

And yet they are not allowed to consult any religious or biblical material that is not approved by Watchtower. So when I challenge them to look at some resources for their Bible study, I know they won't ... unless they are willing to "sin" by consulting works blazed in rebellion. They are not allowed to think on their own. And this is evident in the limitations placed on their reasoning.

I admit that sometimes the messiness of church structure turns me off. Part of me longs for one united Church where every congregation agrees on one set of doctrine. It would indeed make it seem more "straight from God." More undeniable and absolute. But after meeting with these two Jehovah's Witnesses, I realize that the cost of such stability is the surrender of free thinking. And Watchtower isn't the first "Christian" movement to seek such stability at all costs. Come to think of it, I think free thinking is more the exception than the norm.

The apostle Paul was definitely one who demanded unity in doctrine. Just one example is seen in the way he writes First Timothy: "Teach and urge these things. If anyone teaches a different doctrine and does not agree with the sound words ... he is puffed up with conceit and understands nothing" (6:2-4). Indeed he even writes, "By rejecting this, some have made shipwreck of their faith, among whom are Hymenaeus and Alexander, whom I have handed over to Satan that they may learn not to blaspheme" (1:19-20). Yet at the same time, even Peter acknowledges the difficulty of understanding some of the teaching in Paul's writings (2Pe 3:15-16). And on top of Peter's vulnerable observation, today we have almost 2000 years of cultural, historical, and grammatical fog to make things a little more difficult, not just with Paul but also with Peter, as well as the rest of the Bible. We may all agree that there is need for correct doctrine, it's just not always obvious what that correct way of understanding the Bible is.

Thus the need for free thinking. Thus the need for each individual leader and group and follower to be able to examine the evidence and the Scriptures for themselves. And for this reason, any movement that forbids its congregants of reading anything un-official is indeed a dangerous one. In so doing they make their "official" interpretive materials on par with the Bible itself. They pronounce their minds (any less flawed than the rest of ours?) inspired by God.

So three and a half hours after our meeting began, I walked away grieving a little. Saddened by the thought that these two men are not allowed to think outside the fence. And there they will remain unless the Spirit of God should motivate them to dare think outside of it.

Yet as I walked back to my van, I was also thankful. Thankful for our sometimes messy faith, which allows me to wrestle with it and therefore take all that much more assurance of it. Believe me, I have had my wrestling match with faith. Nearly two years of wrestling with the existence of God and the validity of the Bible. All while in seminary. I have had my battles, but it is within these battles and their aftermath that my faith has come out all that much more sure and strong. Will these two men ever know that confidence? I pray so.

In case you haven't yet guessed it, I rambled way too long and am forced to write about the rest of my whirlwind weekend later.

A Legendary Experience

Tonight I made good on an adventure I've been planning for some time now. There are a good deal of those whom I associate with that would not be nearly so daring. I accepted an invitation to venture out to the suburb of Arlington Heights for a special event.

A hymn sing. A real hymn sing. Not just an old Gospel favorite or two placed in the midst of a worship service, but a full 100+ minutes of singing the classics and near classics handed down through the annals of time. Or at least over the last hundred years or so. I have heard of such events. The stories of such momentous occasions have fluttered upon my eardrums more times than my memory can account for.

Over the course of three years spent overseeing our senior adults ministry, I have heard many glowing reports on the hymn sings found in past decades and even today ... in other churches. However at our church, we have chosen to use our Sunday evenings (officially the most appropriate time for such activities) for other things. For something we call an Encounter Gathering. Indeed even on Sunday mornings when we hold our primary services, they resemble nothing close to a hymn sing. Now I will readily admit that those of the matured generation have been very supportive of our more "youthful" approach to community worship. But on occasion, our seniors hear of other larger and more "traditional" congregations putting on such singing extravaganzas, and, in such cases, follow their preferences to the host of their worshiping ideals. It is not my intention to ever present this as a bad thing. I'm sure I would do the same if I found myself in a church culture where my music-and-singing-choice and all-that-I-had-known-for-most-of-my-life had become increasingly obsolete. I would readily join them in an evening oasis of heartfelt worship. On top of all this, our senior adults are, as I said, very supportive of everything our church does and the decisions our leadership has made.

But at the same time, their hearts are for the hymns. And so it seemed that the very week I began pastoring this group of roughly a hundred grey haired saints, that the reports began streaming in concerning the rather glorious nature of such gatherings. And as each report came in, I picked up somewhat of an almost legendary status that was attributed to each hymn sing. Eyes opened wide. Smiles so shining they overcame the entire face. Eagerly, the storyteller would recite the name of the guest soloist, the time period reserved for piano prelude, the overwhelming number of hymns that were sang. Stories of ensembles and choirs. Of respect and reverence. Of tradition and that which is familiar. Of lyrics supplied by a book rather than a powerpoint. And of a setting where every line of every song is known by heart. These reports note the absence of the ominous "7-11 choruses" popularized in the '80s. And they almost inevitably lament the days when every church service knew only hymns.

So I finally went. I've been planning on it for three years now, looking for a free Sunday evening in which to go and taste the glory. I love my seniors, and despite the vast cultural differences between myself and them, I have genuinely looked forward to finding the opportunity and taking it. I have even found myself excited. Excited by the thought of going and spending nearly two hours in song. And also excited to learn. To experience the legend first hand.

I found a maximized auditorium that I would guess sat around five to seven hundred people. And despite all expectations, when I walked in I was taken aback by the endless sea of grey and white hair. Somehow I expected that at least ... maybe ten percent of the congregants would be under 60. But this was definitely not the case. When I arrived (ten minutes early) only the back corner was still available for seating, and there were about five families that eventually slid in after me. The parents were in their 40s, and the children were young. But as I walked around and studied the rest of the auditorium, the remainder was all on Social Security.

The hymns and "special music" numbers were all about what I expected. Though I did think that the reported time-frame was one of the legendary and exaggerated elements: of 1 1/2 to 2 hours of nothing but singing and listening to others sing. I was surprised to find it not the case. The sing really did go for 105 minutes. And I must admit that closing on about 85 minutes, I was sick of singing. Yes, even though I was singing to God. I began checking my watch every two or three minutes. But that said, I was glad I went and am thankful for the experience.

I left with two primary impressions. To begin, I feel like I had experienced a prized component of this generation's spirituality. As a pastor I feel like this is valuable experience that will inform how I understand their needs as I lead them in following Jesus. I feel like it is my responsibility as a pastor of a generationally diverse group to create a venue for them to fully express their hearts in worship. According to their natural and heartfelt culture.

Secondly, I see more than ever the difficulty of worship in a setting that is not your own. As I sat there, I felt more and more frustrated with this style of celebration. I longed more and more for that which is natural to me. And I realize that this is the case for seniors as they are forced to sit in worship gatherings that are fully oriented toward younger people. Maybe to an even greater degree. I see all over again, in a whole new light, the difficulty this generation faces in trying to worship alongside those that consider them irrelevant.

I am trying to wrestle anew with how I as a pastor am held responsible to create venues for all elements of the congregation, where each person has a place to turn to express the fullness of their hearts in worship. I've thought on this in the past, and I'm thinking about this more again now. I don't claim to have any answers. I'm not bold or enlightened enough for that. But I do have ambition enough to try. And I certainly feel at least a little responsibility.

I would love to hear back from any who have a thought or two along this line. I heartily welcome your comments. Would love for you to post your feedback.

What does worship look like in the local church where a diverse group of people meet together? How do old and young, black and white, rich and poor come together and worship with their hearts and in a way that is culturally relevant? What does this look like? Is it a blend of ancient hymns and '80s choruses? Of Gaither and Crowder? Of urban Gospel and Reformation marches? In Spanish and English and Korean languages? I've kind of looked to such a blend as the ideal.

I'm just not sure that ideal is realistic.