Deconstructing Faith

 

For over fifteen years

I wholeheartedly and unapologetically

Devoted my life to empowering women, 

Especially young women, 

On their faith journeys.

I worked with an organization whose primary focus is women

And how women can use their lives to serve others on mission.

I lived, breathed, and dreamed my work with the organization 

And I believed in it so much that I chose to ignore a blaring truth:

The organization’s primary ministry partner 

Ultimately does not support women. 

 

I believed that the good outweighed the bad. 

I believed that women needed a challenging yet encouraging voice of support from within. 

I believed that I could stand in the middle between conservative and liberal beliefs. 

I believed that I could make a difference. 

And I did.

I know that. 

 

But I have come to realize that the biggest difference that was made

Was not me on the system,

But the system on me.

 

After years and years and years

Of overtly and covertly hearing and seeing

That women are inferior to men,

That women can serve in churches but not be the pastor,

That women must be submissive to their husbands no matter the cost,

That Christians should hate the sin but love the sinner,

That other religions are bad and wrong,

That Christianity is a conquest, 

That we will one day be held accountable for the souls we saved, 

That humankind is wretched and depraved and that we are nothing save for the blood of Jesus Christ,

I realized that there had to be more to the narrative. 

 

I realized that the extremely damning and negative view I had of myself 

Was suffocating and causing me to live in fear and shame and resentment.

And that’s not how I believed God wanted 

me to live.

 

Deconstructing faith is hard. 

Naming the beliefs that have influenced us, and realizing that they no longer jive with who we have become is challenging. 

This is the questioning stage of faith, 

When faith becomes our own, 

And when we no longer simply associate with the groups that have formed us. 

 

For all those years,

I did my best with the information and experience that I had.

But when the system is trying to control you and hold power over you

Through micro aggressions masked as morals and absolute truth

It’s hard to know that you need to break free.

 

May we all break free from the chains that bind 

And the deep rooted systems that try to tell us that we are less than because of 

Gender, race, sexual orientation, nationality, socioeconomic status, education level, or anything else that does not fit the 1950’s American dream. 

 

God is so much bigger than we make God

And God‘s love is so much deeper than we can comprehend.

May we learn to empower others with that love and 

May we be exactly who God made us to be—

Without a glass ceiling of limits.

 

Amen.

May It Be So

 

I had a coupon for $1 off two bags of cat food, 

So I naturally bought two. 

Only one bag fits in our airtight cat food container, though,

So I put the other bag in the garage. 

Mistake. 

A happy cat found it, ate through the bag, and had a feast!

Unlimited cat food is not meant to be left within reach of an endlessly hungry cat.

 

…

 

I recently saw a little puddle of water on the floor at the bottom of the refrigerator. 

Just a few months ago, 

The water hose in the back of the refrigerator cracked and saturated the floor boards,

So I was afraid it had happened again.

I pulled out the fridge. 

Nothing. 

A day later, I opened the fridge and saw water standing on the bottom shelf.

I wiped it up.

Just a few moments later, I opened the fridge again and saw more water standing on the bottom shelf.

This time I decided to investigate.

I pulled out the bottom drawer and

Found a huge sheet of ice,

Half an inch thick,

Sitting there.

Half inch thick ice is not meant to be in the refrigerator.

 

…

 

When I came back to work after Spring Break,

There was a pair of socks on the floor.

Evidently, a kid had taken off his socks during music class

On the Friday before break.

Socks are not meant to be taken off and left on the floor of the music room.

 

…

 

When Mary realized that Jesus was not in the tomb,

She went to tell the other disciples.

They did not believe her and thought her full of nonsense.

Mary had seen with her eyes and felt it in her body

That Jesus was risen.

Yet the men did not trust her experience

And had to see for themselves.

Women are not meant to be doubted and questioned when we speak from experience.

 

…

 

Cat food should be put away.

Ice should be in the freezer.

Socks should stay on feet while at school.

And women should be respected and trusted just as much as men.

 

May it be so.

 

The end.

Womanist Theology

 

Religion 101. 

That’s where we became friends. 

We didn’t abandon our individual friend groups 

To become best friends 

Yet she is one of the best friends I’ve got

In regards to my faith journey and 

The deeper things of life. 

 

For years, 

When we lived closer,

We had dinner once a month.

We may not have talked much in between those dinners

But every time we were together,

It was like no time had passed.

We could just pick up the conversation with where we were in life

And go forward from there.

 

Now that we live farther apart,

We send the occasional text and keep up via Facebook. 

Our in person visits are few and far between

Yet we still have the ability to pick up the conversation with where we are in life

And go forward from there.

No pretense. 

No surface conversation.

Just deep, honest conversation about

Family, life, and faith. 

 

We had the privilege of meeting for coffee last week. 

She was in town for a couple of days 

So we actually got to see each other and squeeze each other’s necks. 

 

I won’t go into all that we talked about because that is private, 

But I will share this. 

She said, 

“I’ve had a break up with scripture…

But what’s getting me back into that relationship is 

Womanist theology.”

 

Womanist theology critically examines religious texts and traditions through the lens of race, gender, and class, and reinterprets them to reflect the unique realities of Black women's lives. 

 

So much of the way we have traditionally read and interpreted scripture

Has been through the lens of 

White men in power. 

Unfortunately, this reading has come to be 

Hurtful and traumatizing for so many people—

Including women, children, people of color, and members of the LGBTQ community. 

 

If it weren’t so, then we wouldn’t have to pray these words 

That were prayed in many Lutheran churches yesterday:

 

Protect those who face hostility or oppression for their faith. 

Humble those who would use faith to dominate others and reinforce their own power. 

 

If the gospel is for everyone,

Then we must make it accessible to everyone, 

Not through changing it 

But through seeing it through different lenses. 

 

Now, before you get mad and say that 

Scripture is scripture and

Should be read and taken literally, 

Let me gently remind you that 

Scripture is the living, breathing word of God 

And should be read under the guidance of the Holy Spirit for 

Today’s time, culture, and context. 

Whether we admit it or not,

We all interpret scripture and pick and choose what resonates with us. 

 

We justify what we want justified

And we double down on what we see as absolute. 

But nothing, really, is absolute 

Except for the love of God 

And the humanity of humankind. 

But even that humanity is in question 

Because some believe in the total depravity and sin of man 

While others believe in the belovedness and goodness of God’s creation. 

 

I say if womanist theology is helping my friend reengage scripture and

Dialogue with God again, 

Then hooray! 

I must admit that I have been listening to a womanist podcast in my car 

Ever since our conversation, 

And it is very enlightening and engaging. 

 

God is God, friends. 

God is so much bigger than we can comprehend 

And so much more love than we give credit. 

 

I am thankful for friends who help bring this truth to light. 

From Religion 101 to afternoon coffee and beyond. 

 

Amen. 

Despite It All

I am a preacher’s kid, so my dad was my pastor growing up.

He has supported women in ministry for my whole life,

So it didn’t occur to me until I was much older that there were people who didn’t support me,

A woman in ministry.

 

One time many years ago,

I had a pastor exasperated that I spoke from the pulpit.

He wanted me to say nothing.

The next time we led worship together,

I did as he requested,

And he was thrilled.

He even patted me on the head,

Grinning,

And told me what a great job I had done leading worship.

I hadn’t led worship.

I had been a puppet, announcing hymn numbers, and waving my arms.

To this day,

I have a visceral reaction when I hear that pastor’s voice and think about the condescending nature of his actions.

I feel sick.

And the pain from those few experiences comes right back to the surface.

 

Clearly, in his mind,

And in the minds of many others’,

Maybe even you,

I am less than because I am a woman.

 

I know the scriptural arguments against women in ministry.

I know the scriptural arguments in support of women in ministry.

I know denominational beliefs and

I know that we don’t all have to feel the same way.

 

I also know that damning or demeaning someone’s understanding and experience of God and God’s call on their life creates religious trauma that lingers for years and years and leaves many people wondering why they stick with the church at all.

 

Why stick with a Church that puts you down, tries to silence you, and does everything it can to tell you you’re less than?

 

I know many people who haven’t.

I know many people who have given up going to church because they are never good enough,

Even with the Christ they profess but who they hear is constantly upset with them for falling short.

 

After awhile,

After being told that you are bad, and wrong, and a depraved sinner,

And in the case of women,

Less than man because you ate the fruit of the apple,

It gets kind of hard to want to keep going.

It gets kind of hard to want to follow the Jesus who opened his table to all,

When the table is closed to you because of who you are.

 

Religious trauma is no joke.

It is real.

It runs deep.

And it pushes people away from a God who deemed Godself Love,

And who inspired the scriptures to say that, “There is neither Jew or Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ.”

 

Oh God: Help the Church, Your Body, to stop the self-harm and to do better. And God? Help us to heal. Despite it all, I love you so much. So very, very much. Amen.

Women Who Made Automotive History and A Worship Litany

I have a terrible habit of letting junk mail and magazines pile up on the counter. I know that I should deal with mail on the day it arrives, yet I still allow it to pile up until it takes over the kitchen counter. When it reaches that point, I dump it all in a bag. If I’m lucky, I go through the bag in a timely-ish fashion. If I’m not so lucky, then I go through the bag months later. Yesterday, I went through a bag that was both timely and not-so-timely…because I dumped new mail into an old bag yesterday morning. Please tell me I’m not the only one who does things like this!

 

Anyway. As I was going through the bag, I came across a few interesting magazine articles. One (The NC Zoo Magazine) article shared that the NC Zoo is restarting behind-the-scenes tours. One (AAA) shared what the various noises of your car mean. One (Viking Cruise Lines) shared how cruise-lines are adjusting to life with Covid-19. One (SAI Music Sorority) shared about black female Opera singers. One (International Justice Mission) shared the story of a boy who was rescued from labor exploitation. One (Cooperative Baptist Fellowship) shared a beautiful liturgy for worship. And one (AAA Coastal) shared about five women who made automotive history. The latter are what I want to share with you today.

 

Did you know that:

Bertha Benz is credited with devising the world’s first brake pads?

Mary Anderson designed the predecessor of today’s windshield wipers?

Florence Lawrence created the predecessor of today’s turn signals? And

June McCarrol came up with the idea to have painted lines on roads to distinguish separate lanes?

 

Brake pads, windshield wipers, turn signals, and traffic lines: All safety features indispensable to driving today…and all created by women 😊.

 

And…there is no smooth transition between my thoughts today, so I hope you don’t get reader’s whiplash, but I end this note with a worship litany that I hope you will pray with me. I don’t know who wrote it, but it’s a really beautiful call to be present to the needs of this world.

 

“God of all nations, you created a world that is connected.

By climate, by trade and now by disease.

Your world is being threatened by a pandemic that affects us all.

Every religion, every class, every race, and every language.

 

God, we want to be your people.

A people who share your concern for the world.

 

God of all peoples, you created us with a deep desire for connection.

You gave us a capacity to learn from each other.

To talk to each other and to relate.

To hear each other’s voices and to know each other’s stories.

To understand each other when we really try.

You created us to thrive together rather than alone.

 

God, we yearn to be your people.

A people who listen to the cries of the world.

 

God of all creation, you sent your Son and you sent your Spirit.

You have given us the love and hope of Christ.

You have given us the creativity of your Spirit.

You call us and you equip us.

To be present to the people who cross our path.

To use our skills and to share the gifts you have given.

 

God, we long to be your people.

A people who minister to the needs of the world.”

 

And God? Thank you.

Thank you for that Spirit of creativity,

For the love and hope of Christ,

For calling us and equipping us,

And maybe even for laughing with us

When we dump mail into bags and

Sort it months later

Only to find things that we can celebrate

And share with one another.

 

Amen.

And Amen.

A Very, Very Good Thing

Until Jack the Nephew came along, the Harry Potter series intimidated me. Not because of subject matter, character, or plot line. But because the books are so thick!

But when Jack started reading and liking the series, I decided that it was time for me to tackle it as well. With my ears, of course. But still: thick printed books make for long audio books.

Considering that I’ve now read the entire series twice (which is hundreds of hours of reading—with my ears, of course), watched each of the movies at least three times, and made Harry Potter references a regular part of conversation, I think it’s safe to say that I’m glad that Jack unintentionally nudged me toward overcoming my book-intimidation.

On Friday night, my sister and her family held their annual Halloween party. This year’s theme? Zombies vs. Harry Potter. Being the terrible Halloween-er that I am, I dressed as a muggle who sort of felt like a zombie after finishing the week’s work, but I enjoyed identifying other people’s costumes nonetheless. My sister dressed as Moaning Myrtle and wore a toilet seat around her neck. My brother-in-law dressed as Oliver Wood. Griffin the Nephew dressed as Harry Potter. Amelia the Niece dressed as Jenny Weasley—complete with red hair. And Dumbledore, Valdemort, Professor Umbridge, Rita Skeeter, Hedwig, MadEye Moody, Bellatrix Lestrange, Harry’s petronas, a nitch, and a dementor were some of the other characters who attended the party.

In the spirit of the weekend, my sister asked if I’d like to join the family at the North Carolina Symphony on Saturday. They were playing music from…Harry Potter! I said yes. And I wore my brother-in-law’s Gryffindor robe so that I’d more fully belong :-).

After we waded through the sea of families dressed in all sorts of costumes, and climbed all the way to the top of the auditorium—literally—our seats were on the back row—and after I climbed all the way back down to the foyer because we forgot to get programs—I noticed something interesting: The guest symphony conductor was a woman.

As my sister and I discussed how unusually neat it was to have a woman conductor, Amelia looked at me and said, “Is it not normal to have a female conductor?”

I said, “No, sweetpea. Most of the time, when you go to a symphony concert, the conductor is a man. It’s actually very unusual to see a female conductor. We get to see something special today.”

She said, “Oh. It’s not unusual for me. I don’t go to very many symphony concerts.”

Shortly after this conversation, we noticed that the guest illusionist (think stage magician) was also a woman. As a result, the same conversation ensued. Neither my sister nor I had seen many—if any—female illusionists—so we both realized the significance of the concert. Amelia, though—Amelia thought absolutely nothing about the fact that women were leading the day’s events. For Amelia, strong, female leadership is just normal.

This, to me, friends, is not a result of magic or a reality only of fictional literature.
This, to me, friends, seems the result of many slow years of change—years that are still changing.
And this, to me, is a very, very good thing.

Butterfly Meditation Gone Awry

Every once in awhile, I attend a meeting, workshop, or worship service that teaches me something I cannot forget. Most recently, I had this experience at a young women’s meeting in my association. The leader, Jen, taught us about Lent and presented the concept of rending our hearts instead of rending our clothes—of tearing away all that is not needed in our lives—of freeing the heart from all that binds. I find this to be a beautiful image.

Another such meeting occurred during college. My friend Sally led our Bible study group through a meditation during which we reflected upon our lives and colored a butterfly. Afterward, she asked us to share our stories with a partner and then had us crumple our partner’s creation. When she asked us to do this, there was a collective gasp. But we did it. And Sally used it as an illustration of what we do to people when we don’t properly listen to them and/or when we break people’s trust.

That butterfly meditation was so powerful to me that I have used it numerous times since Sally introduced it. Each time I’ve used it, it has made a profound impact on the group with whom I’m working. In fact, I believe in its impact so much that I keep around 40 individual packs of crayons and a stash of blank butterflies with my retreat supplies in case I ever need to lead a group activity.

I had something odd happen over the weekend, though.

From the very first activity of the retreat, when retreat participants seriously considered their answers to some very “silly” questions, I knew the group was unique! They liked to laugh. They liked to talk. They liked to think and they thought deeply. So I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me when they absolutely refused to crumple their butterflies. Like Sally, I’m usually met with a gasp and often have one or two people who are hesitant to do as I’ve asked. Eventually, though, everyone has always ended up following my lead.

Not this group!

They stared at me in stubborn refusal for around two minutes. I did everything I could to convince them that I was being serious. I even did a countdown to see if they’d all crumple their butterflies at the same time. Finally, one of the women looked at me and emphatically said, “No. I’m not going to do it. She has entrusted me with her story and I’m not going to damage it.”

At that point, there was nothing left for me to say except, “Exactly. That is my point. You just got it in a different way than I expected! So I hope that you truly do get it—that you truly will refuse to damage someone’s story after she has shared it with you and that you’ll refuse to damage your own story by belittling it in any way.”

That is my hope for you, too, reader, as is it my hope for me. I’ve hoped it since college and I hope it tonight and I hope that you will use this season of Lent to render your hearts and make an effort to honor the persons in your life whose words and actions made a difference.

That being said…Thank you, Jen and Sally. Your lives and words have made a difference in mine.