Immanuel

God in our mess.
In our carrying on nevertheless.
In our working out plan B.
In our "is this the way it has to be?"
In the sinking of our heart.
In our ideals falling apart.
In our wishing for togetherness.
In our very real brokenness.

God become baby.
Born into circumstances hazy.
Born into territory occupied.
Born into nation's hopes unsatisfied.
Born into complicated family.
Born into baggage and a history.
Born into love and deep affection.
Born into heart-wrenching rejection.

God living our humanity.
Stepping into our calamity.
Joining us in suffering.
Adding his tears to the offering.
Healing us from our distress.
Covering our nakedness.
Sticking around, never to leave us.
Immanuel, our God is with us.

Heart ache heals.

I found an old poem in a notebook, barely remember writing it.

There’s an ache that turns to anger,

The ache of a child ignored.

Fresh bitterness of rejection

Strikes an old resounding chord.

The indignance at the suggestion

That she isn’t worth the time

Awakens  dull notes of abandonment

Which in her heart still chime.

The question ‘Am I special?’

And a silent answer returned

Remind her of a teenager

Who painful lessons learned.

But these days, she’s found a Someone

Who takes her anger and her pain,

Who knows her wounds already

And how to heal her heart again.

Who heard each lie that she believed

And saw each lonely night,

Who steps up to battle beside her

So she’s not alone to fight.

Her father's love burns fiercely,
Angry that her heart has been attacked.

But against her pain he wins the victory,

And claims his daughter back. 

There is a judgement to come - Why are we waiting? #4

After the tragic shootings in Newtown last week, there's been much  written in the way of response, not least from Christians. Some have attempted to defend God's justice, others to declare his judgement, many simply expressing grief and honest incomprehension. Nearly a week on, I didn't want to try to add anything, or to critique other people's responses. Plenty has been said. But after my last advent post on trusting Jesus' promise to return, I've been reflecting on why it's a good thing that he will return. I've become convinced that Christ's second coming that we look forward to during advent is not just a wacky doctrine for end-of-the-world fanatics, not just a neat solution to tie up the loose ends of the Jesus story, but a truth that speaks to the heart of our suffering and affirms our indignance.

2012 X Factor judges

The New Testament claims that when Jesus returns, it will be as Saviour and Judge. Jesus claims for himself all of God's authority in heaven and on earth, the authority given by the Ancient of Days to the one like a son of man in Daniel 7. I'd always imagined these two roles as separate, as opposites. The 'saviour' part is obviously a good thing, but 'judge' doesn't always have such positive connotations. Judge makes us think of judgementalism, of intolerance and fault-finding, of superiority and criticism. It could make us think of corrupt judges, taking bribes for protecting the powerful. Or perhaps our minds jump to the X Factor judges, commercially minded and equally comfortable  with dishing out both cruelty and flattery.


But recently I read about a judge who changed all those images for me. Joaquim Barbosa, the first black member of Brazil's supreme court, presided over the massive trial responsible for convicting 25 powerful people for offences around money-laundering, bribery and fraud. Barbosa has become something of a national hero for bringing to justice many corrupt politicians and working to end a culture of manipulation, greed and impunity in Brazil's power structures. By his courage in bringing justice to corrupt leaders, Barbosa represents freedom and truth for Brazil's people.

To a world held in the grip of human selfishness, of greed, of addiction, of oppression, and of sheer cruelty, Jesus' promise of judgement speaks that same freedom to all of us.

That Jesus is coming to judge evil once and for all and to free us from its grasp tells us that heinous crimes like that which the world witnessed last Friday matter to God. I hope it's too obvious to have to say, but it means that God hates the suffering caused by such evil. Whatever we might want to argue philosophically about divine impassibility, I'm convinced that the heart of God was broken on Friday, and that it is every day for the suffering that we inflict on one another. It means also then that how I treat other people matters to God, that the way I use my power to love others to love them or to hurt them, matters. From the cutting remark I might make to put another down, through bullying, abuse, rape, murder and genocide, we can be sure that it matters to God, and that we matter to God.

Jesus' coming to judge assures us too that evil does not have the final word. Though we may suffer now for our years on earth, it won't be like this in the eternity that God invites us to share with him. This isn't what we were made for, and our deep sense that 'this is not right' when we witness evil and suffering is entirely justified. We're right. It isn't meant to be like this. It won't be forever. God will have the final say.

When I've thought of Jesus as Saviour and Judge in the past, I've thought of myself as being the "saved" category, saved from the evil 'out there' in the world. I've thought of 'bad people' judged, and 'good people' saved. Yet I know, I know because the cross shows me, that I'm drawing a false dichotomy. I know that on the cross, the evil being judged was the evil in me. See, both salvation and judgement are things which have in some sense already happened and some sense are still to come. On the cross, my sin was judged and justice was done. By faith in Jesus, I've been saved from the penalty of my sin. By faith in Jesus, I'm being set free from the power of my sin. So when Jesus comes again, both salvation and judgement will be complete - I'll be rescued not just from the evil and suffering in the rest of the world, out there, but also set free from the presence of evil, the sin in me. Evil will be finally judged, and I'll be free.

Jesus' return as saviour and judge is good news. It means that evil matters to God. It means that even the smallest pain I feel matters to God. It means the way I treat others matters to God. It means that evil will not have the final word. God does. It won't always be like this. For all who know that they contribute to the suffering in the world, we already have a way to be free from the penalty of sin - by faith in Jesus' death. We have ongoing power to be free from the grip of sin in our lives - by faith in Jesus' resurrection. And we can have certainty that we will be free from the presence of sin and suffering forever - by faith in the promise that Jesus will return as Saviour and Judge.

One more thing though. Jesus' promise to return to end all evil and suffering tells us not to expect that now. We hardly need to be told that God has not yet finally ended our suffering on earth. The fact that we know there is a final judgement to come means that we can ignore those who announce that such tragedies as the Newtown shooting are in some way God's act of judgement. Jesus' himself was asked a similar question in the face of a tragedy - was it judgement for those who suffered? No, he said. But he warned of a judgement to come.

So what of how I live now, while we wait? Well, it means I'll try to remember how much God cares about my actions, my relationships, and my responsibility to show love rather than to cause suffering. It means I'll want to work to free people from their suffering now, to "act justly and show mercy", while knowing that it is God who will ultimately act to right injustice. I'll want to be bold in the face of the evil that does exist, knowing it is God rather than any evil who will have the final say. And I'll want to share with many, many people - all those who want to know - the good news that the penalty for our own sin can be dealt with at the cross, that we can have power over sin through his resurrection, so that when Jesus returns as Saviour and as Judge, we can finally we freed from all evil, both internal and external, for an eternity in God's new creation. Just as it's meant to be.

An open apology to inspiring women - and a very belated thank you.

My home church never had women preaching, and I grew up as a teenager believing that women shouldn't preach or lead churches. I understood there were difficulties with that view: at what age does a boy become a man whom I shouldn't teach? Did it apply to say, home groups, or only church services? What if I was sharing a testimony that had some explanation of the Bible in it? What about those women who feel called by God to lead and preach, can they all be mistaken? All the same though, I was convinced that was the right way to interpret the Bible. Men and women were made with different roles, and the challenge for was to work out how to maintain that they were equal while having such defined leader and follower roles.

This was all reinforced to me on the couple of occasions I’d heard women preaching. It seemed that they didn’t pay much attention to the Bible passage they were meant to be speaking from, and instead talked about their personal feelings and journeys, occasionally seemed close to tears and rarely preached the gospel. It all seemed a bit pathetic. Clearly God was right to leave preaching and Church leading to men, they could do it without crying and they knew that the gospel was more important than their own life story. Of course, I found excuses  for the one or two amazing women speakers I heard at events like Soul Survivor. They must have had special training, and the Church couldn’t afford to train everyone to that standard. They were only speaking to teenagers, and that was allowed.

Some things haven’t changed – I do still think men and women are different somehow. For all my musings and puzzling over gender, which I still don’t have many answers to, I think that I think that gender exists in some way which is not purely a social construct. I think “male and female he created them” does mean something, even though it doesn’t mean most of what we’ve taken it to mean. If you follow. Also, I do still think preaching from the Bible and explaining the gospel message clearly are hugely important. When I go to Church on a Sunday, the best thing for me to hear is a part of God’s word, explained and opened up, in a way that helps me hear God through it and think about how he might want to apply it to my life. 

Here’s what did change though – over a couple of years , in sixth form and on my gap year, I started to read for myself some books about those verses, the silencer verses. When dad went to theological college, the hypothetical women who felt called to lead were no longer hypothetical, they were my dad’s friends. One of them (to whom is owed a greatly overdue thanks) gave me a book and lent me another, which started to open my eyes to the possibility that there were people who took the Bible as seriously as, if not far more seriously than, me and yet still believed women could and should be leaders in today’s church. As I started to read about contexts, about language, about big theological concepts and good methods of interpretation and exegesis, my mind was blown. I wasn’t instantly convinced, and I read enough conservative material to keep me on the fence for a while, but by the time January 2010 came around, I was ready to try preaching out myself. Once I stopped reading the entire Bible in the light of one interpretation of a couple of verses (never a good way round to work out what the Bible means!) I discovered that equal really does mean equal to God, without ifs, buts or qualification. It set me free to see what God really thinks of women. 

Ever since I started that first bit of reading in sixth form and allowed myself to see how God can and does use women in amazing ways, I’ve been inspired by so many amazing women, especially in the last few months. So I want to say a huge thank you: to the women I know and those I don’t know, those whose sermons I’ve learned so much from, those whose blogs I read and books I’ve started, to those I get to have breakfast dates and coffee dates with, those who minister to me and teach me every day, those who listen to me think aloud and are patient when I need to work out the same thoughts all over again – thank you, and I’m so sorry I doubted you.

I’ve learned that being a man in no way guarantees you'll be good at teaching the Bible - I've heard as many vague, 'here are my thoughts with little connection to the passage' sermons from men as from women. But far more importantly, I've learned that women absolutely can teach the Bible and explain the gospel, and I’m sorry I ever thought I needed to ‘preach like a man’ if I were to be any good. People like Danielle Strickland, Ali Martin, Becky Manley Pippert and MJ Axelson have left me in no doubt about that. I'm so grateful to role models closer to home who've modelled to me various kinds of teaching and pastoral ministry like Michelle Tepper, Laura Gallacher and Sharon Mac. 

I’ve learned that women’s experiences, their feelings, and their journeys are in no way pathetic but incredibly valuable, that vulnerability isn’t weakness but strength, and it strengthens everyone who has the honour of sharing it. I’ve learnt that it’s not just about women needing to cry all the time, but that men and women all need to share themselves in community, to journey together – and that those words aren’t touchy feely rubbish but a hugely important part of what it means to be gospel-believing followers of Jesus. To see this lived out has validated my own experiences, feelings and journey, and reassured me I'm not pathetic too. 

I’ve learnt that being a woman doesn’t mean being judgemental or closed or bitchy, but it can mean sharing life together in a way I’d never really done before. Friends who’ve stuck around, who’ve dealt with my crap, who’ve shared theirs with me, who’ve talked honestly, who’ve reassured me, who’ve prayed for me, who’d questioned with me, have become the most inspiring people in my life.

I’ve learnt that I want to be like my mum when I grow up. The more of myself I’ve shared honestly with her in the last couple of years, the more she’s taught me about strength, compassion, resilience and grace. I want to share her determination and her humility and her sense of humour, if not her wardrobe. My little sister (who is not little any more but a beautiful and opinionated woman) constantly inspires me too with her stories of how she challenges the misconceptions and ignorance she sometimes hears at school and questions whatever she hears, so as to know her own mind. She even manages to do it without losing friends, which I think is admirable in itself! I hope she keeps challenging me like that for years to come.

I’ve learnt that women really can be funny – since mum bought me “How to be a woman”, and my college mum (if I remember rightly, Rosie?!) sat me down to watch Miranda, I’ve discovered that the experiences and ups and downs that many women seem to share are put into this hilarious kind of perspective when reflected back to you by someone like Caitlin Moran or Miranda Hart. And it makes life that little bit better.

I’ve learnt that women who stand up against misogyny in all its forms are not pointlessly angry, making a fuss over nothing, bra burning man haters. I’ve learnt that feminism is necessary and good, despite the few who give it a bad name. I’ve learnt that it’s definitely not all men who cat-call and grope, objectify and dehumanise women  - but that the ones who do need to be challenged, and there are plenty of women and men doing just that. The Everyday Sexism Project, the Misogyny Overheard at Oxford group, and the No More Page 3 Campaign have all inspired me to join in.

I could go on. There are so many blogs and stories and books I want to keep reading, so many women I want to meet and pick the brains of and listen to and learn from. But even to those I won’t get around to reading the thoughts of or won’t get to meet and have a conversation with, I still owe my thanks. Just knowing that they’re all over the place, getting on with life with grace and compassion and strength and humour is pretty inspiring, and it makes me want to do the same. It’s because of everyone of these people and groups I’ve mentioned that I feel free now to explore my own call to ministry, whatever that might look like, and free to do it as I am, as a woman, whatever difference that might make. So thank you too for that.

I can’t say for sure that there is a causal link between my change of theological position on women in leadership and speaking roles in the church, and my learning so much from these inspiring women. But while I held the difference between men and women to be the most important thing, and struggled to fit some idea of a kind of equality around that, I don’t think I’d ever have listened as closely or been so open to what God could teach me through the words of women.

Final apology – if you see me sending this post to a lot of people on Twitter or Facebook, please excuse the repetition. It’s only that I want to make sure the apology and the thank you reaches those it’s most intended for.

Love, Claire xxx

Taking his word for it - Why are we waiting? #3

I think you have trust issues. 

Don't take it personally. I'm not singling you out, I'm pretty sure most people have trust issues of some sort or another. For some people, it's that they don't trust, at least not easily. Perhaps they've been hurt in the past, and develop a hardened, 'me against the world' attitude. Relationships become full of insecurity and suspicion (you only have to watch Jeremy Kyle's lie detector tests to see countless examples of this). Other people find they trust too easily, quick to believe each new acquaintance is the hero they've been waiting for, and  every new philosophy, self help book or diet is the one that will definitely work, and find themselves disappointed and hurt over and over. Most of us are probably more complex than those two extremes. I, if you're interested, have a tendency to trust people quickly - happily sharing my life story with anyone who seems nice enough - but am equally quick to doubt people, if my experiences, feelings or insecurities in any way suggest that they might not be as genuine as I thought or might not stay true to their word. 

It's no secret that Christianity is all about trust. Numerous conversations with a friend of mine about the reasonableness of Christian faith all boiled down to his conclusion that he couldn't believe in something "just because someone said so", the something in this case being the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, and the someone being the gospel writers. Different Christian traditions might prioritise different reasons for having faith, but it usually seems to come down to "because someone said so" - whether that someone is Biblical authors, early church theologians, Christians we know, or a voice inside ourselves - Christian faith comes down to trusting someone that their message is true. When we talk about having reasonable faith then, a large part of what we mean is that we have good reason for trusting those people. So my conversations with that friend turned to when it might be reasonable to believe something just because someone said so. 

The season of advent, as well as looking forward to Christmas and the birth of Christ, is a time to look forward to his coming again one day. That he would return as judge of the whole world, to finally put an end to evil and to fully bring in God's kingdom on a renewed earth with no more pain and suffering, is a huge promise. If I really believe it, it should have a dramatic effect on the way I live my life now. I want to think more about the effects of that promise on life in the waiting room, but I'll leave those thoughts for another post, because for now, I need to go  back to those reasons for trusting what someone says. If I'm going to let this particular promise change every aspect of my life, I need to be sure that I can take Jesus at his word on this one. So, here are my top five reasons for taking someone at their word:

5. What they say is reasonable and realistic. 
The first thing I'd do is assess whether what someone is saying makes sense, not "pie in the sky" as my mother calls it. Are they promising me money that I know they don't have? Are they promising to make the impossible happen? Or are they telling me something which actually, I find remotely credible? In the case of Jesus promising that he'll return as judge and king, I'd say it would make little sense for anyone else to have said - but if Jesus really is the Son of God, which on the basis of the evidence I've looked at I believe he is, then it makes some sense that he is not done with this world but will return to finish his work and set it right. 

4. The testimony of others agrees. 
When an offer seems to good to be true, or I sense a scam on the internet, the first thing I usually do is Google it. There are forums all over the place where bargain hunters either bear witness to a money off voucher that really did work, or report scams so that others don't fall into the same trap. Of course, herd mentality is exactly what leads whole groups of people to fall victim to hoaxes, all believing because people around them did, but considering the thought out opinions of other people we trust can still be used as a helpful guide. For me, the number of highly intelligent people who have thought about, written about, questioned and yet firmly believed in the promise that Jesus will return over the last 2000 years is reassuring. I know a fair few less intelligent, gullible types have believed it too, but that doesn't invalidate the rational thinking of the others! As I look around me now, the faith of my family and friends who I respect and trust gives me reason to think there must be at least some grounds for believing this promise. 

3. There is evidence of previous promise-keeping form.
It's hard to keep believing the same promise over and over, when you've been let down. The words which used to gain your trust become meaningless when prefaced with "This time, I really promise..." We rely on past form to help us know whether to trust a promise again. On the flip side then, if a promise has been kept in the past, it's much easier to trust that it will be kept again. When it comes to promises and predictions about himself, Jesus has good form. He told his disciples that he would be rejected and killed - less of a promise than a preparatory warning - which turned out to be absolutely true, down to every detail. More than that, he promised that he'd be raised from the dead and again, according to the evidence we have, and the failure of any other theory to explain the evidence satisfactorily, I'm convinced that Jesus also kept this promise. In my personal experience, I've found that every promise Jesus made to his followers has been true in my life - so it makes sense to trust in this big promise too. 

2. The trustworthy character of the promise maker.
C.S. Lewis in his famous trilemma made the case that Jesus was no good moral teacher. Given the claims he made about himself, he had to be 'mad, bad, or God.' The problem for those who dismiss Jesus' claims as absurd is not only that he showed no signs at all of being mentally ill, but also that he displayed a perfect moral character - to the extent that those looking to kill him couldn't even invent stories of his wrongdoing, and instead could only having him arrested for blasphemy: claiming to be God. Which might well be wrong, unless of  course you are God. Having examined him, Pilate could find no wrong in him, and tried to wash his hands of the blood of a man he knew to be totally innocent. As I read the gospels and see the astonishing compassion, humility, love and grace shown by this man, I find myself prepared to trust his promises like I'd trust no other.  

1. Relationship with the promise maker. 
It seems most obvious of all, but it makes all the difference. When someone makes a promise, my relationship with that person plays a huge part in whether I trust them. A promise made in the context of real relationship means something special, there's something at stake. Our friendship acts as the deposit, the guarantee. In the context of relationship, we can constantly probe, test, build up trust through the little things, and find ourselves trusting friends with big things. Jesus promised his followers that in the time between his bodily leaving earth and his return again, he'd send them the Holy Spirit. The New Testament calls the Holy Spirit both the spirit of God and the spirit of Christ, through whom we can have relationship with the Father and the Son now. Paul calls him a "deposit, guaranteeing what is to come". It is the day by day experience of relationship with God in Christ, trusting him with the little things and experiencing his faithfulness, seeing him at work in me and in other Christians, that convinces me that such a huge promise for the future really can be trusted. 

So, if you have trust issues, you're not alone. If you think Jesus' return is a pretty serious promise not to be believed lightly, same here. But it seems to me that according to the tests I usually use to work out if I can trust someone, and if I can take them at their word, this promise of Jesus passes every time. What criteria do you use to decide whether to believe something? What did I miss? Are there instances where you believe, even little things, just because someone says so? Do you think the promise of Jesus' return really does fulfil these criteria or is it just too good to be true? Is it even good at all...? More on that next time.  

"Surely not, Lord!" - Why are we waiting? #2

I've got a lot of sympathy for Jesus' disciples. I find myself using their words, their reactions. I'm reassured by Peter in particular, every time he puts his foot in it. 

Sometimes I read their stories and think ‘what idiots, why don’t they get it?’ Why do they ask such silly questions, why don't they trust Jesus properly? Then I remember. I've got the benefit of hindsight, of two thousand years of Christian thought and tradition, and I don’t get it most of the time. They experienced a whole lot of surprises as they followed Jesus round and as they continued his ministry in the subsequent months; there was a lot of new stuff to get their heads around. It’s not surprising they didn't get it sometimes.

I read yesterday Acts 10, where Peter has a vision of a sheet filled with food previously called unclean, and he’s told to kill and eat. His response is “surely not, Lord!” It makes sense. Surely not, Lord, you can’t be telling me to eat the food I've avoided my whole life. Surely not, Lord, it makes no sense. Surely not, Lord, this wasn't what I expected. The vision Acts 10 isn't the first time Peter had expressed such sentiments. At the memorable incident at Caesarea Philippi recorded in the gospels, when Peter had declared Jesus to be the Christ, Jesus started to death about his necessary suffering and death. Peter’s response was the same “Never, Lord! This shall never happen to you!” (Matt 16:22) There’s the same surprise, shock, repulsion even. Surely not, Lord! This wasn't the plan. Surely not, Lord, I thought you were the Messiah. Surely not.

There’s so much about the gospel story that might be surprising, not least the death and resurrection of the Son of God, and the welcome of  people of all races and backgrounds into God’s family. But perhaps the biggest surprise of all is right at the start, at the moment God becomes man. If we were to take a first look at the baby in the manger, the child of an unmarried mother wriggling in a feeding trough, if we were to forget our hindsight and the millennia of thinking and understanding we've done since, wouldn't that be our reaction too? Surely not, Lord. Surely this isn't how you’re coming to invade human history? Surely this isn't the plan to save the world? Really? This baby?

Advent gives us time to reflect on the wholly surprising and unexpected nature of the incarnation. It’s a time to think of the messianic expectations of the nation into which Christ came, to try to put ourselves in the shoes of those who were longing for God to come and rescue them. To imagine the hopes, the possibilities, the dreams. To feel the shock, the surprise, the awe.... surely not, Lord... really? It’s a time to remember how God, in coming as this poor baby, turned the values and expectations of the world upside down; how the King became a servant, how he who was rich became poor, how he emptied himself. It’s a time to be in awe at the surprising, shocking, perfect plan of God, who did it all that we might become everything he made us to be.

Perhaps it’s a time also to examine my own expectations of what God has planned, for my life, my family, his Church. As I allow myself to hope, to dream of all God might have in store for me, what kind of ministry I might have, the family I might have... perhaps I need to remember how surprising God’s plans have always been. This advent, one challenge I feel is to surrender my plans to him, to be prepared for his ideas to turn mine upside down. As much as I imagine all I’d love to be doing and how I think my gifts could be best used, and all the things I want God to do in me and through me in the coming years, I want to try imagining the unexpected too. What if God has completely different plans? Will I still trust that they’re good and perfect plans? Will I believe that, just as the baby in the manger makes no sense at first glance, or even fourth or fifth glance, when things happen in my life that seem to make no sense, God is still just as in control as he was at the birth of Jesus?

The more I'm convinced that God’s surprising plans are also God’s perfect plans, the more confident I can be that when those surprises come, I won’t need to echo Peter’s “surely not, Lord!” but I’ll be able to say with Mary, when confronted with the biggest surprise of all, “may it be to me as you have said.”

Why are we waiting? #1

Living life at such a fast pace in Oxford doesn’t often leave time for waiting. Waiting for the kettle to boil in the morning feels like a wasted couple of minutes in which I should be unloading the dishwasher or proofreading my essay (both things I only rarely do). Waiting for the end of term is hectic because there’s so much to fit in. Waiting for finals is nerve-wracking and unwelcome and I  sincerely wish they never come. Waiting is a pretty alien concept in the crammed 8 weeks of term.

But Advent this year seems full of waiting. For me personally, starting to explore vocation and ordination is a process which I know will involve years of waiting. In my family, Dad is waiting to get married in less than 5 months. Mum is waiting for doctors to work out what went wrong with her kidney. My sister is waiting for school to end so she can get off to university. There’s a great sense of waiting in the Church too, waiting for the right legislation for women to be allowed to become bishops. Waiting to feel the full consequences of the No vote, waiting to see how we can move forward. Sometimes waiting is an exciting time, but more often than not it feels frustrating, demoralising, and like a waste of time. When we know what we’re heading towards and what we want the outcomes to be, we’re ready to get on and get there. Sometimes we’re held back by circumstances, sometimes by other people, sometimes by paperwork, but rarely by choice. Why are we waiting?

I’m sure there’s more to Advent than this. 

I’m sure there’s more to waiting than impatience and frustration. I’m sure patience really is a virtue, even though I’m not yet sure why. I’m sure there are reasons why we spend December looking forward to Christmas, beyond the need for Christmas lists to be made and turkeys ordered in advance. I’m setting myself the task of reflecting on Advent over the next couple of weeks, to see what light it can shed on these seasons of waiting and to be reminded of all we’re really waiting for. Expect a few short posts under this title as I come across helpful insights from others, and do a bit of reflecting myself. In the mean time, I’d love to hear your thoughts (I’ll probably turn them into a post). Do also point me in the direction of blogs/articles/anything else you’ve seen that has helped you think about Advent. Perhaps by Christmas, I’ll have more of an idea of what this waiting lark is all about. 

CUs and women - thoughts on the BUCU fiasco

There are bound to be mixed feelings when conflict apparently arises between two sets of values, people or groups that you care a lot about. This seems to happen particularly for me when Christian groups and Christian principles end up at odds with the values of gender equality that I want to hold to so firmly. There's an instinct for many of us who are committed to groups like university CUs and their mission, to keep the peace, to stop "secondary issues" such as gender distracting from the focus on Jesus and sharing the gospel. But there's got to be a time and a place to stop and think about these issues properly, however secondary they might be - and I think many would say gender equality is an issue which relates to the gospel, both in terms of what difference the gospel makes to Christians, and also in terms of how the gospel is received by others, the reputation it has in society. Both are important things for any evangelistic organisation to have thought about.

The story has been reported by the Huffington Post, the Guardian and the Telegraph as well as student press, and has attracted a fair amount of Facebook and Twitter discussion. There's been a bit of mis-representing, so here's the situation as best as I can make out:

• Bristol University CU, like many other CUs, had a policy against women speaking in its main meetings. Whether this policy was constitutional or not, spoken or unspoken, I'm not sure; in practice though, women hadn't been speakers at CU meetings and events for at least 7 years. 
• There had been a recent discussion and decision made that because the Christian Union is not a church, any perceived prohibitions on women teaching in churches (a view presumably held by some of the exec) did not need to apply in a CU context, and so women were going to be allowed to speak. 
• This decision was opposed by some, including the International Secretary, who could not accept a woman teaching in a CU context. In response, the decision was changed so that women could not speak in the main meetings, and could only be joint speakers with their husbands at weekends away and mission week events. 
• This was still a step too far for some, and the International Secretary stepped down from his position.

What was actually a small move towards women having more active speaking roles at BUCU led to a written clarification, in an email from the president, of what women are and are not allowed to do in this particular CU. It's attracted media attention because it looks like a backwards moving ban, but actually reflects the unspoken situation in many CUs across the country. OICCU for instance, Oxford's CU, has nothing in its constitution about the gender of speakers, and similarly nothing about the gender of the President - but the conservative evangelical culture of many CUs means that women are simply not invited to teach at main meetings and events, with perhaps only a couple of rare exceptions in recent years in Oxford.

When Christians disagree, we're meant to do something unnatural and uncomfortable - show grace and love to one another. We're meant to resist the urge to insult, slander or rage against one another, because we're family. So before I say anything more about how the attitude of a lot of CUs towards gender and division needs to be rethought, here's some positives about the Bristol University CU and what I think they should be commended for in this situation:

• Being prepared to be unpopular and counter cultural, for the sake of their Christian conviction. Whether or not we agree with that particular conviction, it's always hard to go against the grain of popular feeling and opinion, but Jesus tells us we'll have to. "If the world hates you," he says in John 15:18, "keep in mind that it hated me first."
• Seeking God's wisdom on the issue.The President's email stated that they understood it was a difficult issue, and the exec have therefore been looking to God for wisdom on it. 
• Recognising that CU is not a church. This seems to be a key issue in the debate over women's roles in CUs and yet is completely ignored by many - CUs seem to unanimously agree that their meetings should not replace churches, and members are encouraged to be part of local church communities as well as the CU, and yet most people who hold that women shouldn't teach in a CU context do so because of verses specifically about women in churches. 
• Seeking to maintain unity around the gospel. Christian unity is a very difficult thing to maintain where there is disagreement  and it takes courage to keep this as a priority rather than risk infighting, splinter groups and factions. Although the phrase "secondary issue" can be used to brush important discussions under the carpet, BUCU are right to keep stressing that the gospel is the most important thing which Christians hold in common and should stay our top priority. 

All good things which I think a lot of CUs share. Focus on the gospel, whatever other people think. Focus on God's wisdom over people's. Recognition of what a CU is and what it's not. But there are a few questions which to me, suggest that the thinking of BUCU and others on this issue needs an overhaul. Here are a few questions/thoughts:

• If a CU is not a church, why are we still debating this as if it were? Why don't we call on those who oppose women teaching in CU because of verses from Paul's letters which they interpret as prohibiting women speaking in church, to explain why they feel that their interpretation of those verses also extends a prohibition to CUs? 
• Why is it only those who do want women teaching who are seen as divisive on this issue? It seems obvious that opinion is divided, and that anyone who has any opinion on it is part of that split of opinion - we need to avoid the labelling of one group as divisive.
• Why is the offence taken by one group of people more important than the offence taken by another group? The email sent round to BUCU members said that despite a recognition that CU isn't a church and therefore women should definitely be allowed to speak in all CU contexts, "However, we understand that this is a difficult issue for some and so decided that women would not teach on their own at our weekly CU:Equip meetings..." Why is it that those who have "difficulty" with the decision previously reached are important enough to have it completely turned around, when there are loads of women and men who also have great difficulty with the fact that they don't get to benefit from women teaching at their CU meetings? Perhaps it is time for those who feel equally hurt and offended at the lack of women speaking to be a little more vocal so that their concerns are heard within CUs too? 
• If women speaking is a "secondary" issue, not a "gospel" issue, shouldn't we use gospel principles to solve it? Paul's take on secondary issues was that they should always be used to promote the gospel. He had Timothy circumcised (Acts 16:3) so that the Jews in the area would listen to the message. The priority was the gospel - even though circumcision was a contentious issue, it was unnecessary for salvation, it wasn't the point of the gospel, Paul was happy to adapt on secondary issues so that they gospel could be shared with the most people, and so that  it could be received in the best possible way. Surely all this media attention shows that the gospel will not be received by a world which sees Christians as sexist. If we're to have any hope of sharing the gospel effectively in universities, students need to hear it equally from the mouths of women and men. 

Most of all, CUs need to stop silencing those who want to talk about women's speaking roles in CU. We do need to talk about it! We do need to ask why those with a particular opinion on women teaching in church are also being allowed to apply that to CUs, which are definitely not churches. We need to ask why we're allowing a "secondary issue" to cause such damage to the gospel's reputation and alienate so many people. We need to use this opportunity to get talking about the questions, and get listening to women in every setting - for the sake of the gospel.

One Body - CEYC poem

[I spent this weekend at the Church of England Youth Council meeting, which was great - I'll probably have something more to write about it later. As part of the worship for this morning, I wrote this poem - it's based on 1 Corinthians 12:12-26, and I hope it reflects something of the strong desire that the whole council felt for unity despite, and perhaps because of, diversity.]

We are many people, we are many parts,
But we are one body, with one beating heart.
We have different passions, each with our own gifts,
But our unity runs deeper than superficial rifts.
Baptised in to Christ, whoever we are,
His love has drawn close strangers who were far.
Not one unimportant, not one valued less,
So the strong work together, the weaker to bless.
God's brought us together, not left on our own.
When one part is hurting, it can't suffer alone.
But the body is to comfort and commit to each other,
Bearing the burdens of our sisters and brothers.
As our voices join and one song we sing,
We proclaim to the world that Jesus is king.

Gut reaction

[My gut reaction to the vote against the women bishops motion at General Synod last night. I might have something more intelligible to say at some point...]

Tired, God.
Eyes, red raw.
Head fuzzy.
Too many questions.

How could you let this and what do you want and when will it ever and is it even right?
And why so divided and what is the answer and why does your Church have to cause pain and fight?

Exhausted, Father.
Pounding drum inside.
Doubts bubble.
Is it worth it?

Why so many churches and is there just one and how do you speak and do we know how to hear?
And do we trust our leaders and and do we know we're right and when it's all hopeless, God will you be near?

Feel small, Lord.
Nothing smart to say.
They talk so loud.
I'm just one.

You've made us a body and we are connected, do we love one another and do we feel each other's pain?
And can we still commit and will we live out humble service and will you strengthen your Church to come together again?

Commitment.
You challenge and call us.
Deny self, follow you.
Any cost, any pain.
Restless hearts need peace.
Need you.
Help please.

Feet in high heeled shoes

As a kid my parents told me “you can be whatever you choose,”

So I dreamt of being a singer and learning to walk in high heeled shoes.

And I started a fashion company, and I designed football kits for dogs

(Yeah, really I did, it combined all of my passions in one ideal job).

Then I looked around me and saw a planet that needed saving,

So in my infants school, I "saved the daisies" by making everyone walk on the paving.

I gave assemblies on human trafficking because I thought my school needed to be told

That even in this day and age, there are people being bought and sold.

I wanted to change the world, and more than anything I still do,

But as I grew up I realised that I didn’t just love the sound of my own voice,

I love God’s people too.

As I met a God who knows me and loves me and stuck with me through a whole load of mess,

I could see no better reason to live than to give myself to bless

The broken and the hurting and those who don’t know him still,

And to encourage those who do, as together we seek his will,

And as we build each other up and as we gather round his word,

I want to sing the loudest, to make sure his praises will be heard.

I want to be part of it, at the heart of it, and though its a massive learning curve,

If God will use me despite my weakness, it’s his church I want to serve.

So as a woman I’m frustrated that it's still now being debated

As to whether my field of service will stay ring fenced and gated.

See, I’m not trying to argue that Jesus had a modern feminist agenda,

But that he radically liberated women from societal expectations of our gender.

I get that those who oppose it are trying to stay true to God’s word

But if you’re questioning my motives, above all let this be heard:

"Whoever wants to be an overseer, he desires a noble task"

So why is it career-driven, selfish ambition when its she who dares to ask?

No, I love the Bible too, and everything it’s got to say,

I don’t want to ignore Paul, or just to run the church my way,

But when I’ve looked at the cultural context of what Paul said on women leading

I think his prohibitions were context specific, and that's my most sincere reading.

Today I think he’d want to see all hands set to the gospel’s task

Served by an army of faithful bishops whose gender no one thinks to ask.

So let’s get on with being Christ’s body, in trainers, deck shoes or high heels,

Let’s be the feet who take good news to a world he longs to heal.

And when it comes to where and how I’ll serve, it’ll be God who gets to choose

But I long to do it in a church where women bishops are old news.

Uncertain... whether to love my "self".

"No one comes to the father except through me." (John 14:6)
"Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels." (Matt 25:41)
"If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters - yes, even his own life - he cannot be my disciples." (Luke:1426)
"I did not come to bring peace but a sword." (Matt 10:34)

There are plenty of candidates for the most unpopular, most offensive, most  awkward or embarrassing sayings of Jesus. There are plenty that we sometimes wish were not in the Bible, or at least wish other people wouldn't notice. But as for the things that Christians wish he'd never said for our own sake, well the verses we read at Church on Sunday are right up there on the list:

"If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me." (Luke 9:23)

As Vaughan, our rector, pointed out, comfortable middle class Christians have a tendency to water this statement down. Self-denial means giving up chocolate for lent. Carrying our cross means putting up with a bad back. Trivial things, but perhaps enough to make us feel that we're suffering for the gospel, box ticked. Unfortunately, Jesus was never the comfortable middle class Messiah we'd make him out to be, and just saying no to that extra piece of cake doesn't come close to the radical life of discipleship that Jesus called his followers to. Being himself radical in every way, in love for enemies, in welcome of prostitutes and lepers, in holiness of life, in intimacy with God, we shouldn't be surprised that the lifestyle Jesus expects from his disciples is just as radical. When Jesus talked about self-denial and taking up our cross, he was talking about crucifixion. Following him as far as the cross if it comes to it. He means crucifying every part of us that isn't following him: the selfishness that holds us back from being loving and generous, the proud ambition that stops us being humble, the lust and the greed that stops us being pure. To use the words of John the Baptist, it means daily deciding that we will decrease so that he can increase. (John 3:30)

So far so good. Challenging, yes, terrifying sometimes, but simple enough to understand.

But Vaughan also pointed out how counter-cultural the call to self-denial is, and he's right. The buzz words which used to be confined to a few self-help books - self-worth, self-actualization, self-confidence, self-fulfilment, self-esteem - these words are now the language we speak. Their message permeates everything, from careers advice to glossy magazines, teenage PSHE classes and counselling courses. That's when I realised. To me, these words aren't just the titles of women's magazine articles on how to survive without a man or get your dream job. When I had therapy last year, this self-speak all got very personal.

Of all the useful things I learnt in therapy and of all the "a-ha" moments, it was one of the first things my therapist told me near the end of my first proper session, that made the biggest impact and set the tone for everything else we did. She said to me,  "it doesn't sound like you're always very kind to some parts of yourself. What would it be like to show yourself a little bit more compassion?" From there on, I learnt what it meant to be a bit more compassionate and loving towards the parts of myself I didn't like and just wanted to get rid of before. It didn't mean making excuses or indulging everything that any part of me wanted to do, but showing some understanding for my own motives and feelings, treating myself kindly rather than harshly when I felt something I didn't like feeling. Being a good friend to myself. Learning to do that has been one of the most helpful parts of therapy, it's really changed things for me.

So sat in Church, I was left with this conflict: Jesus tells me to deny myself, to take up my cross, to crucify the bits of me that are not following him fully, to be that radical about loving him first not myself. Christians are meant to denounce this culture of self-centredness that says I'm most important and focuses on my happiness, making sure I'm fulfilled. Yet one of the things that has helped me most in becoming the person God says I can be is a principle that seems to come right from that culture, treating myself kindly. Loving each part of myself, if you like.

Here was the biggest surprise of the week. St Augustine, the fourth century Latin Church father who had such a massive guilt complex and some deep-seated mother issues, helped me work out something like a resolution. I was writing an essay this week on the relationship between love and happiness in Augustine, and part of it was on the paradox of self love. For Augustine, happiness is the deepest and most natural human desire, it's an unquestionable given that every human being seeks happiness. True happiness is the fulfilment of desire for the good; loving and attaining a true, permanent, stable good. Essentially, it is love of God that leads to happiness. So we have this situation where self-love, the desire to make ourselves happy at the deepest level, is the most natural thing for us. It's part of what it means to be human. It seems like unavoidable selfishness, and yet for Augustine, this is how God created us. He made us with this natural self-love because it's the desire for happiness that drives us to love him. Because God is the only ultimate, permanent good, the self who searches for happiness should realise that it can't be found in anything or anyone but the God who satisfies.

That's what I found too when I started to put this lesson from therapy into practice. When I was feeling something I didn't want to feel, when a part of me that I didn't like started to have a tantrum and make demands, I tried to show understanding and love and compassion to myself. At those times I found that I pointed myself to God. Like in the Psalms, I spoke to my soul and took myself to the God who satisfies every desire. True self-love is fulfilled in loving relationship with God.

So, back to those difficult words of Jesus:
"If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me."

The relationship that I was learning to have with myself was a bit like that of parent and child. To be a good, loving parent doesn't always mean to give your child what they want and indulge them. Sometimes it means denying their demands and doing what is best for them, really best for them, even if they don't like it at the time. That's what I'm learning to do with myself, not to give in to every whim or desire, but lovingly to know and to do what is really best for myself - to deny myself and trust what Jesus says is best. Sometimes that means doing things that feel painful, getting rid of parts of things that stop me following Jesus, being prepared to go even to the cross if it came to it.

This doesn't mean that we only follow Christ for the sake of our own happiness. It doesn't mean Christianity is essentially a selfish exercise. It seems to me that God is so good, so loving and so gracious that he's designed us so that worshipping him and honouring him and living in obedience to him, which is everything we ought to do because of who he is, also produce the happiness and satisfaction that we deeply want, because of who we are. So denying myself, taking up my cross and following him is a call to trust the character of God. It's an exercise in trusting God with my very self, knowing the he knows how to look after me better than I do. It's being a good parent and friend to myself to sometimes deny that troubled, troubling part of myself what it wants and instead ask it to trust God and follow Christ, whatever the cost.

Uncertain that... sexuality is simple.

Over the summer, I spent a lot of time thinking about gender issues. I wrote the post below “Gender in crisis?” on my Facebook and invited a whole range of people to comment. Some did, others sent me their thoughts privately, and it was a privilege to hear so many takes on the whole set of issues. It gave me a whole load more to think about, and I’m not sure I’m much closer to many answers.

At the same time, something which I’ve been thinking a lot about and is in various ways related to gender issues is sexuality. There are SO many questions to ask, I could try to list them but I'd be here all day. Here’s a few fairly universal questions: what do we mean by sexuality, and attraction? What are the differences between romantic attraction, sexual attraction, desire for friendship, admiration? How do we know that when I use one of those terms, I mean the same thing that you understand by it? Have those categories always been separated in the same way as they are now, or have people used different terms for different things at different times? Can we predict who we will feel those different things towards, does it depend on the people we meet, or is it set for each person? Do these aspects of our sexuality change or are they generally consistent? How much do societal expectations of sexuality and the boundaries of our definitions of relationships affect what we experience towards different people? What would the spectrum for sexuality look like if those expectations were different?

I’ve got so much to ask.

There’s a whole other set of questions as a Christian too. I’ve been fortunate really in that having a gay mum and a gay friend who are both Christians has meant I’ve had a great excuse to bring up some of these questions in Christian contexts, to challenge the status quo and the sometimes very ignorant assumptions of some of the Christians I’ve spent time with. I’ve think perhaps I’ve gained myself a bit reputation for being “difficult” on this subject, especially among some of the more conservative evangelicals I’ve met, because I’m never really comfortable with the certainty I’ve found. What I mean is this: in evangelical churches, this thing exists which is “The Homosexuality Issue”. It’s a little bit troubling for many because it’s this Big Issue which people outside the church sometimes use to force Christians to say something very unpopular. Conversations can go something like: “Why does God hate gay people? Is my mate going to hell because he’s gay? Christians are so homophobic.”

So inside the churches, they’ve come up with this defence strategy. The response is meant to be “God doesn’t hate gay people, he loves everyone. Homosexual acts are sinful because God designed sex to be for a man and a woman inside marriage. But we’re not homophobic because we still think God loves you, so please come to church anyway and we’ll do our best not to stare at you.” Maybe that’s not quite the response we’re meant to actually give, but it’s the spirit of what I’ve heard sometimes. I understand why conservative evangelical Christians want to be able to give this certain, clear cut answer, I really do. It’s so much safer to know what we think, to have the set piece, and to avoid the pitfalls of sounding blatantly homophobic or the condemning stares of other Christians if we don’t say something clear enough about it being Wrong when questioned. It’s safe to have an answer to stick to, even if other people disagree.

But... there’s so much more to say, so much more to ask. The idea that there’s just one “Homosexuality Issue” for the church to respond to is ridiculous. For a start, it’s not like there’s just this one group of “gay people” over there that we need to respond to, and the questions can’t be as narrow as who sleeps with whom. If we take the widely held view that human sexuality constitutes a spectrum along which most people lie (others being asexual and not considering themselves on that spectrum at all) and many people move, then there are surely far more questions going on for far more people than just that group of “gay people” who we’ve handily put in a box over in the corner while we discuss them. Surely those universal questions I asked above are questions for everyone?

For those of us asking them from a Christian perspective, they take on another dimension which in my mind only increases the questions we can ask: what does the God who created us have to say about all those universal questions? Are these categories of friendship, romantic attraction, intimacy, sexual attraction and so on, categories defined by society or by God? What parameters, if any, has he set around them, and what if our experiences don’t seem to fit in to those parameters, if they exist? Are those boundaries about who we are, what we do, or what our relationships look like? Can we even separate those categories?

For some people, I think these questions are completely alien. I know that because of the completely confused/blank/bewildered looks I’ve got when I start asking them at church or with certain Christians. To some Christians, these questions seem to be totally irrelevant. They are totally clear on their own gender identity and are attracted exclusively to people of the opposite gender. They experience a very clear division between feelings of friendship towards people of their own gender and attraction to people of the opposite, although they may occasionally get these muddled when it comes to friends of the opposite gender, but this is not too much of a problem.  They get happily married, and have a good group of same gender friends around them for accountability and support. Gay people, to them, are just doing it all the other way around. They must experience that same clear cut distinction between sexual attraction and friendship (the only two categories) but their sexual attraction goes the wrong way. That makes them either sinful (if they act on it by having gay sex) or to be pitied (if they don’t act on it, by not having gay sex.) For some people, there’s not a lot else to say.

That might be most people, I don't know. I might be alone in thinking that there are a zillion other questions like those I’ve raised. I might be the only one who things human relationships are more complex than sex or not-sex. I might be the one person who missed the memo about a universally accepted and understood set of definitions about relationships and intimacy and sexuality. But I’m pretty sure that’s not the case. There’s this whole huge interesting conversation about gender and sexuality and relationships and all sorts going on outside the church. And as the church, we’re shutting our eyes, putting our fingers in our ears, and repeating our set piece on "The Homosexuality Issue" until people go away and stop asking us difficult questions. We’re missing out! Surely we’ve got loads to learn? Surely we have questions to ask too? Perhaps we might even have something to contribute too? I’d suggest we start by listening though, because we’ve got a bit of catching up to do.

On a personal note, you might be wondering where all these questions have left me. Somewhat predictably, I don’t know. I mentioned earlier that having a gay mum and a gay friend has been helpful in being able to explore these questions for reasons that are not too personal. But naturally, they’re questions I’ve spent a lot of time wondering about myself. How do I personally want to understand and label and classify my whole range of experiences with friendship, intimacy, and attraction? The best conclusion I’ve come to at the moment is that I don’t. Not for now. See, I’m not sure I like the idea that everyone is straight until they come out otherwise. If we are complicated creatures, and these questions are real and valid, isn’t it silly to start with any assumption at all? Doesn’t it discourage questioning, and exploration, and ultimately understanding of ourselves? The way I see it, labels are for people who know. Or are at least people who know they want to use that label. So if the majority of people in the world want to define themselves as straight, that’s totally fine. I just hope they are using that word themselves, having thought through their own experiences of their sexuality as a whole. I hope it’s something deliberate. Same for people who define themselves in other ways – that’s totally cool for them. I’m glad they are sure enough to be able to pick a label that expresses them. As for me, I’m not sure of much yet. I don’t think I’m clear enough on what we mean by these various words and categories, what everyone else means by them and what I mean by them. I’m not sure enough yet how they define different types of relationships, and who I want those types of relationships with. I’m not sure of my answers now, so I’m certainly not sure what my answers will look like in 5, 10, 50 years time. Maybe I will have clear cut answers then, maybe I’ll have a label. Maybe not. So I don’t think any of the labels are right for me yet, because labels are for people who know.

So to clarify, I’m not saying I’m bisexual, I’m not saying I’m gay, I’m not saying I’m straight. Or anything in between. I’m not even defining myself as “questioning”. I’m just rejecting the idea that we should be labelled as something until proven otherwise, I’m starting from a clean sheet if you like.

In the mean time, I just want to join in the conversation. I wish the rest of the church would too. I’m sure there are plenty of Christians in fact who already are, so I’m off to find them and I hope at some point I can take a few others with me. 

Gender in Crisis?

[[This was originally posted on my Facebook page on August 31st 2012, and there were some interesting replies which sparked many more questions for me.]]

I've been thinking a lot about gender over the last few months. The issues seem to pop up everywhere. Supermarkets are finally getting rid of the gender divisions on their magazine racks (so it'll now be acceptable for women to take an interest in politics, science, technology...) and Oxford's academic dress rules  no longer include gender distinctions. When Bic brought out biro pens "for her" in pink and purple, the product was mocked and targetted for sarcastic reviews on Amazon. It all seems really positive.

At the same time, I've been questioning with other Christians what gender is meant to mean to us. A few seem to hold the view that housework really is a woman's job, and should a woman find herself too busy to do it, it is her responsibility to organise a cleaner, rather than expect that her husband might do it even if he has more time. It's been suggested that I should aspire to be a vicar's wife rather than a vicar, and that even before I'm married I can practice submitting to my husband by stepping back to allow men to take more leadership roles. I've also seen Christian men and women stand on a stage and explain very clearly that God has given women and men equal authority to lead, equal gifts and equal roles, that Christian leadership should in no way be limited by gender. 

I've spoken to people fed up with being told to get a sense of humour when they challenge a sexist remark, read endless stories of sexism so normalised it almost goes unnoticed, and I can understand when  some people begin to say that distinguishing between people by gender at all only seems to do harm.

So I've got some questions that I'd love to hear your thoughts on: (if I've tagged you, it's only because I thought you might have a thought to share,if I haven't tagged you, please do contribute anyway!) 

- What kind of an understanding of gender do you think our society is or should be moving towards, as we try to eliminate more and more discrimination on the basis of gender? Are we trying to eliminate any concept of gender altogether, to reduce it to something as arbitrary as hair colour or taste in music? Do we still want to understand it as a key part of identity or is it less important than that?

- Is there a difference between what we can say descriptively about gender ("Generally speaking, women are likely to own more shoes than men") and prescriptively ("You're a woman, you have to enjoy buying shoes") - or does one flow from the other so much that we should not make any descriptive comment? Is it possible to talk about gender descriptively without offending, discriminating or excluding some? 

- Is it more acceptable to hold on to an idea of gender identity, gender differences, and some kinds of generalisations based on gender, as long as we are happy for everyone to choose which gender if any they want to identify with? How do we stop that from being artifically created categories for everyone to slot themselves into? Is there anything we can say about gender that isn't purely a social construct, or is it okay that it is? 

- Given that gender is used so negatively, to shame and manipulate ("man up!", "you throw like a girl", "she trains like a man"), is it possible for gender to become a postive way to identify ourselves, or is it beyond redemption as a concept?

Bonus question - for those who are interested from a Christian point of view:

- Some Christians seem very clear on gender roles, that men and women are 'equal but different', equally in the image of God, equal in dignity and value, but given different roles. Not only do Christians coming from this view find it easier to define what men and women should do, in terms of leadership, marriage and so on, but also seem to be far clearer on what men and women are (as well as should be) like - try "Wild at heart" and "Captivating" for books that are confident they can describe and explain the differences between men's and women's hearts.

For those Christians who don't agree on the different roles of men and women in terms of leadership and marriage, for those who think leadership and authority are given to men and women equally, do we have much left to say about a biblical view of gender? What does it mean to be a Christian man if not that you can preach a sermon, what am I as a Christian woman if not designed to be a mother, wife, Sunday school teacher, and cake-baker? What do we mean when we say "male and female God created them?" 

So, thoughts if you have any? If anyone does want to post a few, could you keep them to your own thoughts rather than replying to anyone elses? And feel free not to post an essay (unless you're super keen). Thanks, I'd really like to hear what you think.

Claire 

A personal reflection on Psalm 1

[[This is a first draft of an attempt at a reflection on Psalm 1. I use daily Bible notes which are meant to help the reader apply a passage of the Bible to their lives, but I think it's a hard task to write something meaningful and helpful in only a couple of brief paragraphs, and to make the application points so general that they'll suit everybody. I wanted to experiment with something a bit more personal, a sort of  guide through my own reflections on a few Psalms, without trying to create a one-size-fits-all style devotional guide. I wanted to see if reading one persons reflection was helpful for other people in thinking through the specific relevance to their own lives. I want to make a little booklet of a few of them, and get friends to try them out and report back. So this is attempt number one.]]

At 22, in my final year of university, and faced with a seemingly infinite number of choices about the life panning out before me, a good bit of wisdom never goes amiss. Psalm 1 is known as a wisdom psalm, sharing its literary style and themes with other wisdom literature like Proverbs and Ecclesiastes. This kind of writing in the Bible often has a sense of passing down advice through the generations, sharing the accumulated wisdom of many years experience. I imagine this Psalm as a poem sent from a grandparent on an important birthday, making sure I know how to make the most of my years to come.

It asks us a big question, the answer to which will shape our lives – whose advice are you going to take? We’re given two options, a group described as “wicked”, “sinners” and “mockers” (v1) or the law of the Lord. When I consider my usual sources of advice, I’m not at all sure they fit into either category. I haven’t been to the local prison to ask if or when I should get married, nor turned to Leviticus to see if I should apply for a graduate scheme next year. It’s common in wisdom literature, and in Hebrew thought in general, to use polar opposites to make a clear point, and sometimes that feels uncomfortable to our post-modern, tolerant, accommodating way of thinking. But sometimes we need to be jolted out of our ambiguous, shades-of-grey thinking. Jesus uses such contrasts – “whoever is not with me is against me.”[1] It’s difficult to swallow, but however lovely and genuinely helpful our friends and family are, ultimately they fall on one of two sides. Either they’re following God, and living for him, or they’ve rejected God and are living for themselves.

It’s worth noting the second alternative, the law of the Lord. If we think of law in its narrowest sense, the rules which told the Israelites not to each shellfish and to make sure they had a fence around their roofs, it feels pretty hard to “delight” in (v2). It feels more like a burden to bear. But when God gave his law to the people of Israel, it was never intended as a burden. When God gave the law at Sinai, it was all about relationship; it was about God choosing Israel as his treasured possession.[2] He gave them a blueprint, a gift which would show them how to live as his special people. They were to be “a kingdom of priests”[3], in other words a nation who would stand in the gap between the rest of the world and God, pointing other nations towards Him. It was a real privilege, and the law was a gift from God which would tell them how to do it. We still need God’s blueprint for life now, as His special people. We need to know how to live in relationship with Him, and how to live in a way which shows Him off to other people who don’t yet know Him. While some of the laws which helped Israel to do that wouldn’t help us in the same way now (for instance, a fence around the roof of my house wouldn’t do much good, as I don’t tend to have parties on it like the Israelites could have), the concept of God’s law is still the same – his gift of a guidebook for us, to show us how to live “life to the full”.[4]

The Psalmist wants to help us to decide then whose advice we will take, by giving us a plant-based analogy of the consequences of each option. On the one hand is the person who is like a tree (v3). This person refuses to get too comfortable with the advice of those who are against God. If I want to be this person, it doesn’t mean that I never ask my non-Christian friends for their opinions and help on my specific situations in life, of course I’m still to share my life with my friends. But I need to be aware that the priorities and assumptions, for instance of the glossy magazine I might pick up, will be very different from God’s. So I shouldn’t get too comfortable with taking my advice on sex and relationships advice from there. The problem is that its worldly advice we’re consuming all the time, without wanting to or even realising. Through various forms of media and people, we’re constantly being told what to spend our time and money on, what our priorities and career plans should be, how to dress and how to attract people. If we choose to not get comfortable with that advice and instead to listen to God’s blueprint, the law of the Lord, we’re going to need to do some serious countering. An hour a week in church, especially if I spend it doodling or turning the service sheet into an origami rabbit, will never drown out the saturation of worldly advice. I need to meditate on God’s blueprint for my life day and night (v2). This isn’t a meditation in the ‘clear your mind and think of nothing’ way, but a call to a serious focus, filling our minds with the words which God speaks about our lives instead. For me, this means trying to read a bit of the Bible when I wake up, and walking through the coming day in my head, imagining what different the message I’ve read will make to the things I say and do. Sometimes it’s meant writing a particular verse on a card in my purse, or setting it as a reminder on my phone, it’s meant putting posters on my wall and texting verses to friends. It’s trying to get my heart and mind as saturated with God’s word as it is by other messages and advice, and choosing to listen to Him instead.

The results are where the plant analogy comes into force. The person who chooses to listen to God’s law is like the tree – satisfied and strong, productive and prosperous (v3). It makes sense that following the Designer’s plans would produced a life like this. This tree has roots, it is connected to food and drink, it never goes thirsty. It reminds me of what Jesus said about himself as the one who could fully satisfy. In relationship with God, our deepest desires are met, and living His way ensures that. The tree produces fruit too, it has a purpose and it’s useful. It brings about good things. People who are productive, creative, bringing about a better world in the places they are and the things they do, those people are satisfied people. God’s blueprint tells us how to really live out our purpose.

The alternative is not such a nice image, listening to the world instead makes a person like “chaff” – dry and parched, easily swayed, not anchored or rooted in anything much. In fact, by listening to the advice of the wicked, those who are against God not for him, this person becomes “wicked” themselves (v4). The chaff is ultimately pretty useless, being discarded in favour of the wheat it came from, the useful part of the plant. But a sense of dissatisfaction and purposelessness are not the worst consequences of this way of life: v5 puts this whole decision about advice and lifestyle into a much bigger context. At the judgement, the day when we stand before God to give an account of our lives, those who have rejected God as the Designer of their lives will not stand. They’ll be judged guilty.

It’s a sobering note to end on. The difference between these two groups is crucial though – it’s not simply that one is obedient and one disobedient, that one tried harder than the other to be good. No, God’s law was never what made people right with Him. No-one will stand innocent at the judgement because they were good enough, because they obeyed the law enough, or even because they tried hard enough.[5] The law was given for people who were in relationship with God. He’d brought them out of Egypt where they had been slaves and made them into His own special nation. It wasn’t because they were good enough or tried hard enough. It certainly wasn’t because they obeyed God’s law: He hadn’t even given it to them yet! It was because God showed grace, kindness and love to them. The blessed person in the Psalm wants to live according to God’s blueprint because they have experienced the love and kindness of God, bringing them into relationship with Him. The wicked person rejects God’s law and listens to the world’s advice instead, because they reject God and His offer of relationship.

So as I finish university and stand at this crossroads of my life, the decision I make here is crucial. Will I accept God’s offer of relationship, accept Him as the true Designer of my life, and fill my heart and my mind with His blueprint? Or will I reject Him and turn to the media, pressure from others, and my own inner desires to guide my life? If I want to be like the strong and satisfied tree, I’ll plan to live as one who longs to listen to my Creator, free to live life to the full, and free from fear of judgement.

                                                                      

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[1] Matthew 12:30

[2] Exodus 19:5

[3] Exodus 19:6

[4] John 10:10

[5] See Romans 3:20