Uncat­e­go­rized Ink

My blog has been quiet for weeks. Work. Art. The hol­i­days. Life. Blog­ging kept get­ting pushed fur­ther back on my to-​​​​do list. In the absence of blog­ging I have redis­cov­ered the art of jour­nal­ing. I have jour­naled vol­umes from the time I was a teenager. Since the onset of the dig­i­tal rev­o­lu­tion, I have jour­naled lit­tle. Instead, I have blogged, which has given me a won­der­ful out­let for writ­ing as well as con­nect­ing with oth­ers, some­thing my jour­nal has never been able to pro­vide. Writ­ing is a soli­tary expe­ri­ence. Blog­ging helps take the edge off the iso­la­tion. And yet the pub­lic … Keep read­ing …

1000 Unla­dy­like Books

I know I’ve been offline a while– Christ­mas, art fever and Life– but I just has to get the word out you about Unla­dy­like. 40% OFF THIS MONTH ONLY! The print copy is now avail­able for only $8.99! We’ve been want­ing to offer the Kin­dle ver­sion for 50% off, but for some mys­te­ri­ous rea­son, we can­not get Ama­zon to reset the price. I will keep you posted about that. As an indy writer, I work hard spread­ing the word about Unla­dy­like, my first book whose mes­sage is to chal­lenge the unequal treat­ment of women in the world of church. I have enjoyed … Keep read­ing …

Where Have I Been? Art­ing it Up!

I have neglected my blog the past 10 days and not just because of our Amer­i­can Thanks­giv­ing hol­i­day  —  I have been hav­ing hot flashes of cre­ativ­ity. My writ­ing cave has become an art stu­dio lately with me in the grip of col­lage fever. Some­times peo­ple ask if my art is for sale. I have sold a few pieces over the years, but it’s usu­ally by hap­pen­stance. Like many cre­ative peo­ple, I am more inter­ested in the cre­ative process than in attempts at mar­ket­ing. I started doing col­lage art about 5 years ago. Slowly but surely my own style and pre­ferred tech­niques and … Keep read­ing …

Are Chris­t­ian Women Like Me Whiners?

I am not a non-​​essential doc­trine. Nei­ther are you. We are breath­ing, liv­ing rep­re­sen­ta­tives of the Cre­ator whom I call God.

Why not just leave and find a church that does prac­tice equal­ity and let go of all this hol­ler­ing?” some have asked. “Why focus your energy on this?”

Keep read­ing …

You are the Universe

I made this col­lage last night with paper from an old hym­nal and other paper sources. I dis­tressed with Tim Holz dis­tress ink and with glazing.

I love to do col­lage art. Espe­cially lately. In my writ­ing cave I have an assort­ment of art sup­plies, of old mag­a­zines and scrap­book­ing paper bun­dles, of dis­tress inks and paints and glaze and ephemera galore. Last night I had a spot of time, and with my renewed rigor to take care of my soul, I gave that time to myself to create.

I never know which direc­tion a col­lage will take me. I don’t know how it will look when it’s done and if you asked me, “What are you mak­ing?” I’d answer, “I don’t know ’til I’m done.”

This is the process of artistry. The artist  has to show up and start doing the deal to dis­cover what the deal is. The art emerges as the artist sur­ren­ders to the cre­ative process. It’s kind of like truth telling. You don’t know what the chain reac­tion is going to look like until to reveal the truth.

In her bril­liant book, The Artist’s Way, writer Julia Cameron says this:

The act of mak­ing art exposes a soci­ety to itself. Art brings things to  light. It illu­mi­nates us. It sheds light on our lin­ger­ing dark­ness. It casts a beam into the heart of our dark­ness and says, “See?” 

I  love that. Art casts light on our dark­ness. This reminds me of the descrip­tion of the cre­ative process described in the first pages of the Bible:

In the begin­ning God cre­ated the heav­ens and the earth.  Now the earth was form­less and empty, darkness was over the sur­face of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hov­er­ing over the waters.And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.  God saw that the light was good,and he sep­a­rated the light from the dark­ness.  God called the light “day,” and the dark­ness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morn­ing — the first day.

We are cre­ative beings, no doubt. When we cre­ate, whether it be art, poetry, a new inven­tion or a home­cooked meal, we are par­tic­i­pat­ing in the cre­ative process of cre­ation itself. Kind of like what Carl Sagan said, “You are the uni­verse expe­ri­enc­ing itself.” 

Cre­ativ­ity is … see­ing some­thing that doesn’t exist already. You need to find out how you can bring it into being and that way be a play­mate with God. — Michele Shea

Women are incred­i­bly cre­ative beings. We pro­cre­ate, we makes nests of our homes and sew quilts. We paint the kitchen and ago­nize over which wall­pa­per is just right for the din­ing room. We learn to sten­cil and cro­chet. We cre­ate scrap­books as mem­ory hold­ers for the fam­ily. We play music and sing lul­la­bies. Women cre­ate ways to make com­mu­nity and explore the bound­aries of friend­ship and heal­ing. Women are ever shift­ing with our art­ful expres­sions. Have you been to Etsy lately? Women have unlim­ited depths of cre­ative power.
For cre­ative power to flow, the artist must be unin­hib­ited, free from the harsh cen­sors within and with­out who tell her, “You have no busi­ness play­ing with paint.”  What is really being said here is, “You have noth­ing worth express­ing.” To shut down the artist is to shut down a part of the uni­verse, of God’s glo­ri­ous cre­ation, from emerg­ing from dark­ness to light. It is to quiet the voice of God with a scold.

There are many forces at work in a woman’s life to quench her artistry. She will face these drag­ons of doubt from the crib to the grave.  This is why we need one another. We need to enter the arena of self-​​doubt and help our sis­ters slay the mon­sters.  When fear keeps a woman uncre­ative it is like a poet who has lost her voice or  a blog­ger her blog.   But here’s the rub : when drag­ons come upon us to block our way, we must then not set­tle for defend­ing our space, but find new ways of cre­at­ing as we stare into those red glow­ing eyes that would kill us. Make the dragon a friend to the art. Slay the dragon with courage and dis­cover that under the roar is fear want­ing to be free. A slayed dragon is courage born.

There is a vital­ity, a life force, an energy, a quick­en­ing  that is trans­lated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expres­sion is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and will be lost. — Martha Graham


Do not under­es­ti­mate the power of your cre­ativ­ity. What you make, what you cre­ate, is only pos­si­ble by You. No one else can make it like you. I can’t sew like Ari­anna, or paint like Deb­o­rah. I col­lage much dif­fer­ent than Kelli Rae and I sure as hell can’t cook like Paula, or dec­o­rate like Martha. But with the drag­ons befriended I can col­lage like Pam, I can write and blog in the unique voice that is mine alone, I can sto­ry­tell like no other. Art helps me recover my lost cre­ative soul. Art helps me recover my buried self. The artis­tic process is then an act of spir­i­tual heal­ing that rejoins the frac­tured soul with the uni­verse.  We are meant to Cre­ate the Uni­verse with God. 

So what about you? How are you express­ing the uni­verse through cre­ativ­ity? Feel free to add links to pho­tos, blog posts, etc… that show your cre­ativ­ity in action. Let’s inspire one another!

You Might be an Oppressed Chris­t­ian Woman If …

You Might Be an Oppressed Chris­t­ian Woman If …

You might be an oppressed Chris­t­ian woman if women are blocked from pas­toral roles in your church.

You might be an oppressed Chris­t­ian woman if you only see men in preach­ing from the pulpit.

You might be an oppressed Chris­t­ian woman if when you want to talk to your pas­tor about a con­cern you have, he asks to see your hus­band instead.

You might be an oppressed Chris­t­ian woman if your church teaches you that God cre­ated you to sub­mit to male leadership.

You might be an oppressed Chris­t­ian woman if you think it’s ok that women sub­mit and that God cre­ated you to serve men’s lead­er­ship. Read All…

Keep read­ing …

My Sis­ter, My Self {guest post from Char­ity Jill Erickson}

Blog­ging can be a rather iso­lat­ing expe­ri­ence as you write your post and then for­mat it. Typ­i­cally I do this all alone from the soli­tary con­fines of my writ­ing cave. When my friend and fel­low blog­ger Kathy Esco­bar, men­tioned col­lab­o­ra­tion to me, I real­ized it was time to  invite other blog­gers and writ­ers to guest post on this blog. It is another way of build­ing up my vir­tual com­mu­nity as well as intro­duc­ing my read­ers to other voices.

If you are inter­ested in writ­ing a blog post, EMAIL ME with a request for guide­lines. I’d love to hear from you!

****

When Char­ity pitched her story idea to me, I loved it right away. She writes about how our per­cep­tions of one another are not always kind or even accu­rate. That res­onates with me. I have to admit that I’ve mis­judged folks many times and failed to see our com­mon­al­ity.  Read on  and dis­cover how Char­ity found out how appear­ances are not always what they seem. 

It was my first bach­e­lorette affair, and it was the whole sto­ried deal: party bus, cham­pagne toasts, and a cou­ple of girls who went whoo-​​hoo! at a pitch fre­quency that made me want to lobot­o­mize myself with the penis straw in my drink.

The bride-​​to-​​be was my friend Angel­ica. She befriended all sorts. Dur­ing col­lege we had bonded over our rejected fun­da­men­tal­ist her­itage, shar­ing a dis­il­lu­sion­ment that even­tu­ally gave way to a more ten­able  hope. Angel­ica was my kind of Christian. But Angelica’s old­est friend from her evan­gel­i­cal days, fellow-​​bachelorette-​​partier-​​Sarah, was not. She was a tall, thin, worship-​​leading god­dess with lively Rapun­zel locks.

Sarah liked Mark Driscoll and cited Fox News. Her  hus­band was a model. (Really!) Like many women with noth­ing in com­mon, we treated each other with passive-​​aggressive judgment.

At the bach­e­lorette party there was lin­gerie, there was wine, and there were male gen­i­talia party favors. My gift to Angel­ica was a book: The Joy of Sex by Dr. Alex Com­fort. I had come across it while doing research for my own upcom­ing nup­tials (which included anx­ious Googling of, “What does a nor­mal vagina look like?”)  I told you — I  grew up evangelical.

Oohh,” said Sarah, when she saw the book cover, “Is the author related to Ray Comfort?”

(Ray Com­fort is  the Thelma to  Kirk Cameron’s Louise on the evan­gel­i­cal cir­cuit. He prob­a­bly had some part in train­ing the street evan­ge­list who last harassed you.)

Ray Com­fort. I laughed. It came out loud, and a lit­tle more mean than I intended. Sarah’s half-​​smile faded. Oh no, I thought. God let her miss that obvi­ous bit of deri­sion. And for­give me for being deri­sive. It’s just she’s such a skinny con­ser­v­a­tive bitch.

I didn’t see her again until Angelica’s wed­ding recep­tion, where we exchanged thin smiles and sat back-​​to-​​back at dif­fer­ent tables. As I held hands with my soon-​​to-​​be hus­band, Sarah and her hus­band were hav­ing a tense exchange. I watched him leave the ball­room while  she went after him.  In her haste, her skirt rum­pled and rode up her legs expos­ing the garter belt atop her thigh-​​high fishnets.

I’d heard that Sarah had mar­ried young, and that they had been hav­ing a hard time.I looked down at my fiancé’s hand.God knows what they might be deal­ing with, I thought as I con­sid­ered my own upcom­ing wed­ding.  My heart soft­ened a bit for a bit for Sarah.

I rec­og­nized myself in Sarah.

I felt some­thing unex­pected as I watched her walk away,  as her mar­riage and her garter belt became exposed  at the recep­tion: Identification.

We were both raised evan­gel­i­cal. We both were purity-​​raised girls try­ing to nav­i­gate our fem­i­nin­ity in a porno­graphic world. Des­per­ate to do right by God and man, we looked to author­i­ties to tem­per our vulnerability.

I rec­og­nized myself in Sarah. We were  two Christ-​​following  women fum­bling our way through love, sex and faith.  She was doing the best she could  just as I was.

We were  dif­fer­ent in many ways, but in the deep­est parts of our iden­ti­ties and  hopes, we were, after all still sis­ters in Christ. Evan­gel­i­cal or not.

****

Char­ity (Jill) Erick­son works from home run­ning an online busi­ness along­side her hus­band Lance and her schnau­zers Zeke and Boaz (they are very good accoun­tants.) Find her blog HERE where she uses gen­tle cul­tural cri­tique  through the lens of fem­i­nism and  through the lens of Christ. Her tag line is, “I’ve been a bad evan­gel­i­cal.

Big THANK YOU to Char­ity for being my guest blog­ger today. Remem­ber, you can too. Just email me!

Does Charity’s story res­onate with you as it has for me? She found some­thing to iden­tify with “the other” and in doing so her per­spec­tive changed. What are some other ways that help us let go of judg­ing one another? Would love to hear your thoughts!!

HERetic of the Week : The Grimke Sisters

IN the 19th cen­tury lived the Grimke sis­ters, two women activist writ­ers who opposed slav­ery despite their south­ern upbring­ing. Angelina and Sarah Grimke became fiery abo­li­tion­ists in a time when there existed Chris­t­ian churches that defended the prac­tice of Amer­i­can slavery.

Keep read­ing …

What If … Women Were in the Pulpit?

In this week’s What If… series I write about the issue of women and the pul­pit. In the world of Chris­t­ian cul­ture, most churches are male-​​​​centered in lead­er­ship and preach­ing. What if that changed? What if women were in the pul­pit, too, lead­ing and teach­ing in con­gre­ga­tions the world over? Let’s talk about that! ***** The first time I heard a woman give a mes­sage from behind a pul­pit I had been a Chris­t­ian for about three years. Up to that time, I had only heard men preach and had only seen men pas­tor. Of course I had seen women min­is­ter … Keep read­ing …

I Will Show Up to Your Fight (but not to my own)

Pam, will you help me?” asked a ter­ri­fied look­ing ninth-​​​​grader.  “There’s a bunch of girls who say they’re going to kick my ass after school.  No one will go with me. Will you come?” I was 14-​​​​years old. I was a pim­ply faced intro­vert who could count her friends on one hand. When she told me who she was up against, anx­i­ety flooded my gut like a undammed river. I was scared of those girls. They were the mean­est, tough­est hard­est girls in the school. And she had some­how pissed them off. I couldn’t say no. There was some­thing in me, some … Keep read­ing …

HERetic of the Week : Jo Hilder {A Sassy Aussie Sister}

Before I intro­duce you to our HERetic of the Week, I want to announce the win­ners for our book give­away from Monday’s post. In case you missed it, I blogged a review and inter­view about Rachel Held Evans’ new book, A Year of Bib­li­cal Wom­an­hood: How a Lib­er­ated Woman Found Her­self On the Roof, Cov­er­ing Her Head and Call­ing Her Hus­band Mas­ter. Rachel’s pub­lisher offered to gift three copies to three lucky read­ers.  My blog read­er­ship came out in droves with an enthu­si­as­tic response to Rachel’s book and message!

I enlisted my son Jeremy to draw names out of a hat for us. And the win­ners are :

Al Doyle

J. Stahl

Estelle

Yay!!  Please email me your mail­ing address.  I’ll for­ward it to the pub­lisher who will be the one to mail you your copy of A Year of Bib­li­cal Wom­an­hood. (includ­ing inter­na­tional addresses, J. Stahl!)

I enjoyed hav­ing my first-​​ever give­away on this blog that I intend to do this again. Stay tuned for future oppor­tu­ni­ties, and thanks again every­one who participated!

Ok, now for our HERetic of the Week

Blog­ger and author, Jo Hilder first got on my radar when I noticed her con­tribut­ing posts for Burn­side Writ­ers Col­lec­tive, an online mag­a­zine that I have also con­tributed to. Before long, we were fol­low­ing each other on Twit­ter and Face­book as well as Insta­gram. (Do you Insta­gram? Find us!)

Jo is ded­i­cated to the equal­ity of women and leaves no room for diplo­matic maneu­ver­ing with the oppres­sive sys­tems towards women in church and cul­ture. I am inspired by her pas­sion for jus­tice for women. I am excited to intro­duce her to my read­er­ship.  Here’s our email interview:


Jo Hilder is an author, blog­ger, can­cer sur­vivor and pro­gram facil­i­ta­tor liv­ing in New­cas­tle, Aus­tralia. She is mar­ried with four chil­dren, three grown and one about to enter high school.

Tell us about your faith back­ground. Were you raised in a Chris­t­ian home?

Nobody in my imme­di­ate fam­ily is a Chris­t­ian — in fact, my par­ents and broth­ers are athe­ists! My ear­li­est mem­ory is talk­ing to God from my bed­room win­dow at night, and in my heart believ­ing He talked right back — I would have been maybe four. My the­ory is some­one close to our fam­ily was pray­ing for me.

At around this time, I started going to church on Sun­days with my best friend and her fam­ily, but not being Catholic, I was never included in any­thing. It didn’t ring true to me God was that much of a snob. When I was invited to a bible study in high school, I heard about Jesus for the first time. At last, every­thing fit. I went along to the youth group at the Pentecostal/​charismatic church the older girl who invited me to Bible study belonged to, and bam — I found my tribe. I even­tu­ally mar­ried a young guy from church and became a wor­ship leader, min­is­ter­ing and lead­ing wor­ship teams in sev­eral churches. How­ever, after sev­eral major life events includ­ing a men­tal ill­ness diag­no­sis, can­cer, and alco­holism, we observed an obvi­ous dis­par­ity in the way the church han­dled those events, and some unan­swered ques­tions about what the church says and thinks about those out­side the church struc­ture, the mar­gin­alised, the sick and infirm, the men­tally ill and even sim­ply those born women. Our fam­ily decided to take a break from struc­tured church meet­ings. We still meet with other Chris­tians, but not in a church for­mat, and we are seek­ing ways to work out and express our Chris­t­ian faith in less cor­po­rate, more per­sonal and more prac­ti­cal ways.

  It was hope­less — me try­ing to can­cel out all my cre­ativ­ity, intel­li­gence, energy and pas­sion through sub­mis­sive behaviours…

How has the church affected and shaped your iden­tity as a woman?

I came to the church as a teenage girl wounded and dam­aged, and they offered me heal­ing and accep­tance. How­ever, I learned early the church only uses and val­ues “good girls”, and as much as I wanted to be for­given, I des­per­ately wanted to be used and val­ued by my Father. I mar­ried young, want­ing to prove my worth and erase my shame­ful sex­ual his­tory. I fully under­stood it was both my “call­ing” and my respon­si­bil­ity as a Chris­t­ian wife and woman to adhere to the cul­tural norms mapped out for me by my church, norms I was told were Bib­li­cal, and which would lead to peace and pros­per­ity for my fam­ily. I under­stood if I tried to lead, either my fam­ily, or any­one else, chaos and destruc­tion would result. I truly held in my heart the premise that my phys­i­cal, spir­i­tual, intel­lec­tual and behav­ioural sub­mis­sion and def­er­ence both to my hus­bands “lead­er­ship”, and to church lead­er­ship and what they taught about what the Bible “really” said, were essen­tial for God’s will to be worked out in my home. I tried with all my heart to sub­mit to every­thing and every­one, at one stage resort­ing to wear­ing mod­est, almost Amish style cloth­ing and head cov­er­ings, and drop­ping out of all activ­i­ties which were not church or fam­ily cen­tred. I wanted in my heart to be a “good” Chris­t­ian woman. My hus­band how­ever never had the slight­est moti­va­tion to be the kind of “leader” the church wanted him to be, and he thought my sub­mis­sive head cov­er­ings were silly. It was hope­less — me try­ing to can­cel out all my cre­ativ­ity, intel­li­gence, energy and pas­sion through “sub­mis­sive behav­iours”, try­ing to make it look like my quiet, peace­ful and non-​​ambitous hus­band was the “true” leader of our fam­ily. In the end, I had to give it up, because it was absurd to try and and change our­selves into some­thing we sim­ply were not.

 

When did you begin to see that you were at odds with the patri­ar­chal tinted mes­sag­ing of the churches you have known?

A wise woman builds her house,” said the church, and I learned early that wise women do not seek their own way by try­ing to be lead­ers or pas­tors. All my female peers, regard­less of how bril­liant they were, or how pas­sion­ate and ambi­tious they had been to serve the Lord as teenagers, seemed to get some kind of spir­i­tual lobot­omy in their early twen­ties. All their energy seemed to grav­i­tate to sooth­ing their itchy ring fin­gers. Once mar­ried, babies soon fol­lowed, and from then on a Chris­t­ian woman’s  job seemed to entail meet­ing up for morn­ing tea and craft, par­tic­i­pat­ing in the crèche ros­ter, and tak­ing hot meals around when some­one was sick. I always seemed dif­fer­ent — these things never sat­is­fied me. I wanted to read hard books and write essays. I wanted to teach and learn. I had thou­sands of ques­tions about the Bible and why we did things the way we did. I wanted to lead the con­gre­ga­tion in wor­ship, stand in front of five hun­dred peo­ple and take them through to the throne room in praise, and thank God, they let me do that. I thank God for Dar­lene Zchech (Wor­ship pas­tor at Hill­song, in fact, Brian Hous­ton was the first pas­tor I ever had, the church was at that time 30 peo­ple in a com­mu­nity hall) — if Dar­lene hadn’t come along and made it okay for women to lead wor­ship pas­sion­ately in church in this coun­try, I’d never have found my place at all. I loved lead­ing wor­ship, but I also longed to learn how to really pas­tor peo­ple prop­erly in their own lives, car­ing for them, not just singing at them on Sun­days. How­ever, I learned that pur­su­ing or try­ing to cre­ate posi­tion, projects or pro­grams, seek­ing advance­ment of any kind in the church or try­ing to teach or reach out to oth­ers was pride­ful and ambi­tious, unwom­anly, sin­ful and I should instead wait on God to release me into ministry.

So I waited. And waited.

I watched my male coun­ter­parts, all of whom became Chris­tians at the same time as me, all of whom had jour­neyed sim­i­larly to me, grad­u­ate through church into posi­tions of lead­er­ship and influ­ence, while I stayed capped and trapped in the music team. In time, those men left to start their own churches, sup­ported by our lead­er­ship, whilst I stayed put. I didn’t dare say any­thing. Clearly, there was some­thing wrong with me — I was still too pride­ful and ambi­tious. I watched as other women I respected waited their way into min­istry posi­tions, only to be stood down if they dis­played chal­leng­ing, strong behav­iours, or if they showed ini­tia­tive in any way. The ones who sur­vived in min­istry had hus­bands to stand beside them also in min­istry, who could absorb and deflect any crit­i­cism. My own sweet hus­band had no desire for min­istry. For many, many years, I sim­ply accepted that despite my sus­pi­cions I was called to do a work by God, the church would always treat me with sus­pi­cion, dis­trust my motives, and use shame to con­trol my desires and my passions.

 

Have you ever spo­ken up or addressed gen­der inequity in per­son or on your blog?

It’s only been in the last few years I’ve iden­ti­fied what went on for me for all those years, and I’ve writ­ten and pub­lished many essays and posts address­ing spe­cific issues I see. In fact, it wasn’t until we had stepped out­side of the church struc­ture and no longer had a stake in it emo­tion­ally, socially and finan­cially we were even able to see the sys­temic and cul­tural inequity of the church, because whilst we were in it, while we knew it wasn’t right, we had always believed the prob­lem was us — if only we could get our heart right, if only we could work out our submission/​leadership issues.

On leav­ing the church as such, we were able to see objec­tively how the church prac­tices and defends inequity across the board, inside and out­side of itself, and also per­pet­u­ates a view that the imbal­ances are God’s will and His way. I think many folks who leave the organ­ised church come to recog­nise with regret how eas­ily they once accepted inequal­ity and social injus­tice, and seek to change this. In fact, it was my hav­ing can­cer and my hus­bands alco­holism — all whilst we were born-​​again, Bible believ­ing, pray­ing, wor­ship­ping, tithing Chris­tians — which really showed us the prac­tice of imbal­anced mercy and judge­ment in the church, and gave us a greater com­pas­sion for those who are on the receiv­ing end of it. 

it wasn’t until we had stepped out­side of the church struc­ture and no longer had a stake in it emo­tion­ally, socially and finan­cially we were even able to see the sys­temic and cul­tural inequity of the church

 

I think the root of the issue of women and equal­ity in the church is not a the­ol­ogy issue, but an issue of jus­tice. What about you? Has the­ol­ogy helped or hin­dered you towards a lib­er­at­ing view of yourself?

It’s absolutely an issue of jus­tice, and not of the­ol­ogy. I have a Bible Col­lege qual­i­fi­ca­tion, and I’ve been read­ing the Bible since I was 13 (I’m now 44) and every time I’ve been asked to accept the con­cept of prej­u­dice, injus­tice or inequal­ity as expressed sup­pos­edly in the scrip­ture, I’ve had to be helped to see it. I have found many peo­ple believe that because it’s accepted that scrip­ture is God-​​breathed. Peo­ple also believe it was not pos­si­ble for the scribes nor the inter­preters, nor the assem­blers of the canon to impact it with their own human frail­ties, prej­u­dices, cul­tural ideas and con­di­tion­ing. Any book, any cre­ative work, which comes through the hands of humans will be changed and affected by those humans, for good, and for bad. I have found con­tem­po­rary Chris­t­ian the­ol­ogy in prac­tice pretty much tries to con­vince us the worst of the var­i­ous lim­ited human attrib­utes of the scrip­tural scribes are some­how the Holy and unchange­able attrib­utes of God. In this way, some were once able to be con­vinced slav­ery, racism and even the Holo­caust were some­how God’s will. In the same way we have also believed oppres­sion and sus­pi­cion of women, and other mar­gin­alised groups, are also Gods will. I believe the sex­ist and misog­y­nist aspects of scrip­ture are inter­est­ing for demon­strat­ing the lim­ited capac­ity of human beings for mercy and jus­tice through his­tory, rather than accu­rately depict­ing the heart of our eter­nal Creator.

 

What does church and the role of women look like to you in the future? Empow­ered or displaced?

I have no idea, and this excites rather than frus­trates me. We’ve cho­sen to stand out­side of the church and observe it while these mas­sive changes occur in our soci­ety — atti­tudes towards homo­sex­ual per­sons, women, chil­dren, the men­tally ill etc — rather than stand within and be swept along, or shouted down. We, and when I say we I mean my hus­band Ben and I, have been forced to re-​​examine our own beliefs and ideas, and this has changed the way we respond to and view peo­ple gen­er­ally. As a woman, I’ve decided not to include myself in any struc­ture or organ­i­sa­tion which sup­ports sys­temic and ongo­ing injus­tice towards cer­tain groups based on gen­der or sex­ual ori­en­ta­tion. Unfor­tu­nately, my church is one of them. I love the folks there, but I can’t sup­port the way they treat women, amongst other groups, because I don’t see this as reflec­tive of the heart of God, or the mis­sion and pur­pose of Christ. I look at the work some are doing with excite­ment, such as with the amaz­ing Kathy Esco­bar and The Refuge church. I believe the con­tem­po­rary Chris­t­ian church will con­tinue to resist change, and those who desire it will be forced to walk away and begin again. I stand with these ones, desir­ing change, but won­der­ing what it is we actu­ally want this thing to look like. I’m still in my dream­ing stage — stay posted!

 

How can read­ers find you?

At my desk, here in a sub­ur­ban New­cas­tle sur­burb in New South Wales, Aus­tralia, usu­ally blog­ging away! When I’m not here, I’m coach­ing can­cer patients, dri­ving my kids around, or work­ing in a cool hippy dress shop.

I blog here www​.johilder​.com

I have two books -

Things Not To Say To Some­one Who Has Can­cer (a guide­book for peo­ple who love some­one diag­nosed with cancer)

God, You Can Take My Men­tal Ill­ness, Just Not The Part Where You Speak To Me (a col­lec­tion of essays and arti­cles talk­ing about fam­ily, mar­riage, cul­ture, men­tal ill­ness, can­cer, alco­holism and faith — just the every­day stuff :))

Thanks Jo so much for tak­ing time with us!

Want to hear more from Jo?  Here are some links to some of her arti­cles about women and inequity :


What res­onated with you in Jo’s story? Have you had sim­i­lar expe­ri­ences? What do you think about women leav­ing the church alto­gether over the issue of inequality?  

What If … Chris­tians Were Nice to Each Other Even When We Disagree?


This week in my What If… series I want to agi­tate the waters of judg­men­tal­ism and mean spir­ited doc­trine police. Read on and then let me know what you think the church would look like if Chris­tians were nice to each other even when we disagree.

               Yester­day I read a scathing review of a new book out on the Chris­t­ian mar­ket. The blog­ger not only didn’t like the book, but didn’t like the writer. The flurry of com­ments that flooded his post were also unkind. The author’s motives were ques­tioned, her beliefs scru­ti­nized. The doc­trine police came out with guns blaz­ing as they took aim at their sis­ter in Christ and shot her down.

Chris­tians are famous for shoot­ing at one another. Our rep­u­ta­tion for being judg­men­tal has been long estab­lished and it seems that there remains con­claves that are intent on pre­serv­ing that rep­u­ta­tion. It dis­heart­ens me how mean we can become when some­one doesn’t believe the way that we do.


Photo credit by Stephen Davies. Graph­ics added by me at PicMonkey

A few years ago I men­tioned in an email to an old friend I knew from my Hong Kong YWAM days that my daugh­ter and I would be attend­ing a same-​​sex cer­e­mony. Her response star­tled me.  She ques­tioned my sal­va­tion and likened my atten­dance to such an event on par with drink­ing blood at a satanic rit­ual. I wish I were kidding.

I attempted dia­log with her. Why did this rouse her so much? I wasn’t demand­ing that she accept my view of same-​​sex unions, why did she reduce it to a Bible war with me as an infi­del in need of repen­tance or shunning?

Dia­log could not hap­pen. This became appar­ent as her next flurry of emails sliced and diced me with a litany of Bible verses that kept a real con­ver­sa­tion between friends from devel­op­ing. That is how a friend­ship that spanned two decades abruptly came to an end. My side of the street is clean with this breakup, but what has trou­bled me ever since is how this kind­hearted woman I knew who is full of com­pas­sion for the poor and a cham­pion for chil­dren could have this mean streak when it came to some­one close to her hav­ing a dif­fer­ent point of view.

My run-​​in with the mean spirit of beliefism (as my friend Jim Hen­der­son calls it) is noth­ing com­pared to what many oth­ers over the cor­ri­dors of time have had to endure. Any­body remem­ber a lit­tle era known as the Inqui­si­tion?  And they used to burn heretics at the stake, too.  Shun­ning is  also an age-​​old reac­tion to deal­ing with those who believe dif­fer­ently than we do.

Which makes me wonder :

Who did Jesus shun?

How dif­fer­ent the his­tory of Chris­ten­dom would be if Christ fol­low­ers were rad­i­cally kind to one another in the face of dis­agree­ment and dif­fer­ences. Imag­ine! It reminds me of the last prayer of Jesus recorded in John’s Gospel.  Remem­ber that one? What did he pray for as he con­sid­ered the fol­low­ers of The Way?  He prayed for unity, and for love. May they be one even as we are one, cried out Jesus on the night before his exe­cu­tion. The last recorded prayer of the Son of God was for you and me to get along.

I know I risk sound­ing ide­al­ist here, but it is ingrained in my bones, this desire to see the peo­ple of God treat one another justly and with respect. I dis­agree with com­ple­men­tar­i­an­ism with all my heart and mind, yet I try hard to not be mean about it. There is a dif­fer­ence in defend­ing your con­vic­tion and attack­ing those you dis­agree with. I don’t want to spend my energy being mean and ugly to those who inter­pret the Bible from a dif­fer­ent per­spec­tive than I do. I try to take that last prayer of Jesus to heart.

The last recorded prayer of the Son of God was for you and me to get along.

What would the church look like if we got along? What kind of rep­u­ta­tion would the church have if we were kind to each other in the midst of doc­tri­nal ten­sion? Imag­ine if we were known for our com­mit­ment to unity and fel­low­ship?  What a mind blower that would be to the world. As it is right now, we are as frac­tured as every other world reli­gion and sys­tem. We are not liv­ing set apart. Jesus said If you love your friends so what? Even the pagans do that, but I say to you Love your enemies.   

An enemy is some­one who is in oppo­si­tion to our way of life, our point of view, our beliefs. In the house­hold of faith, our enemy sits a pew away. We do not love our ene­mies. We hurl insults and slan­der just like every­body else. Where then is Jesus in all of our doc­trines and creeds?

I’m a dreamer. I imag­ine a church where kind­ness is not just a virtue but a dis­tinc­tive. That’s the kind of unity I think Jesus was pray­ing for. Unity does not mean we all agree on every­thing at the same time. Unity is a unit­ing of heart and mind despite our dif­fer­ences. Unity is a para­dox, of oppos­ing ideas liv­ing in har­mony.  I hope for the day when fol­low­ers of Jesus are more famous for our absurd kind­ness to one another than our mean spir­ited doc­tri­nal inspections.

 

A Year of Bib­li­cal Wom­an­hood — Review, Inter­view & Book Giveaway!!!


Look below for details how you can win!

Last year is when I first heard about a strange project : a Ten­nessee blog­ger was embark­ing on a one-​​year com­mit­ment to live out the bib­li­cal direc­tives aimed at women as an effort to demon­strate “bib­li­cal wom­an­hood.” The result is Rachel Held Evans’ new book, A Year of Bib­li­cal
Wom­an­hood : How a Lib­er­ated Woman Found Her­self Sit­ting on Her Roof, Cov­er­ing Her Head, and Call­ing Her Hus­band Mas­ter.
( I love long titles! Seri­ously, I do!)

Rachel’s book is a record of dif­fer­ent antics she sub­mit­ted her­self to as she took the words of the Bible lit­er­ally. Pas­sages like Proverbs 31 where the vir­tu­ous woman is described as being the ulti­mate domes­tic god­dess who man­ages her house­hold with the skill of Martha Stew­art is one exam­ple. Rachel deter­mined that to try to emu­late the Proverbs 31 woman she would need to brush up on her domes­tic skills. Armed with a Martha Stew­art cook­book, she set out to learn how to cook meals that were far above her reper­toire. This may sound silly, but every good Chris­t­ian woman knows that home­mak­ing and kitchen tal­ent is cod­i­fied in the col­lec­tive con­scious of the faith­ful. Rachel notes this by quot­ing con­tribut­ing writer, Dorothy Pat­ter­son from the guide on tra­di­tional roles, Recov­er­ing Bib­li­cal Man­hood and Wom­an­hood.
She writes:

This photo from Rachel’s web­site shows her with a pan of freshly made “matza tof­fee.writes:

(Pat­ter­son) con­cludes from these two pas­sages that “keep­ing the house is God’s assign­ment to the wife – even down to chang­ing the sheets, doing the laun­dry, and scrub­bing the floors.” Ambi­tions that might lead a woman to work out­side the home, says Pat­ter­son, con­sti­tute the kind of “evil desires” that lead directly to sin. — A Year of Bib­li­cal Womanhood

It is this world­view that Rachel deter­mined to chal­lenge, and rather than stop with a few well-​​written blog posts, she thought of a cre­ative way to really get her point across while at the same time brush­ing up on her cook­ing skills, a bonus accord­ing to hus­band Dan.

Bib­li­cal Wom­an­hood, as I call this book to keep it short and sim­ple, is a smart and humor­ous jour­ney of a curi­ous writer who chooses to wres­tle out one of the most polar­iz­ing issues in the Amer­i­can church today : the role of women. Early in the book, Rachel describes her South­ern upbring­ing in a churched fam­ily that was not rigid about tra­di­tional roles. She men­tions her mom a few times through­out the book. “The only peo­ple who enjoy potlucks are men. Women do all the work,” says her mom writes Rachel.

These glimpses of Rachel’s grow­ing up years and later her col­lege years gives con­text to how the church shaped her per­spec­tive on the debate of women and roles and lead­er­ship and also to why this is such an impor­tant issue to Rachel. She is a cham­pion for women’s equality.

The book is funny. Rachel has some great one liner’s pep­pered through­out the book, sort of remind­ing me of humor writer, Erma Bombeck Rachel’s humor is inci­sive, yet not sharp. Like this quip:

We evan­gel­i­cals have a nasty habit of throw­ing the word bib­li­cal around like it’s Mar­tin Luther’s mid­dle name.

Bib­li­cal Wom­an­hood is a fast read. All through­out the sto­ry­telling and sur­prise zingers, Rachel shares her reflec­tions about the stereo­typ­i­cal Chris­t­ian woman. She dis­man­tles it, bit by frilly bit, show­ing that under­neath the rules and roles and pre­sump­tions about Bible com­mands, that there is no one-​​size fits all bib­li­cal woman tem­plate. For some read­ers, this is not a rush of rev­e­la­tion. But for a Ten­nessee blog­ger find­ing her way through the jun­gle of rhetoric as the war on women wages within (and out­side) the church, Rachel does many women a great ser­vice by show­cas­ing how absurd it is for all women (let alone any woman!) to try to live up to an ideal that we were never meant to live up to in the first place. This is a pow­er­house of a book writ­ten with can­dor, humor and just the right amount of the­ol­ogy to keep it from get­ting bogged down. I hap­pily rec­om­mend it.

*******

I was able to catch Rachel before her whirl­wind pro­mo­tion of her book kicked in. Here is a short email inter­view she kindly agreed to. Be sure to check out details at the end of the inter­view of how you can win a free copy of her book. We have three to give away!

Me: At the end of A Year of Bib­li­cal Wom­an­hood, you write that you were look­ing for a story when you embarked on your project and the story you found was a deep desire for per­mis­sion to be a woman. A Year of Bib­li­cal Wom­an­hood project helped free you from need­ing per­mis­sion to be a woman and to Just Be. What were some key moments that led to this realization?

Rachel : One of the most lib­er­at­ing parts of the exper­i­ment for me was redis­cov­er­ing the sto­ries of cel­e­brated women from Scrip­ture — and not just the ones we hear about grow­ing up in Sun­day school, but women like Deb­o­rah, Hul­dah, Jael, Miriam, Vashti, Ruth, Esther, Mary of Bethany, Mary Mag­da­lene, Junia, Priscilla, Tabitha and Phoebe. What I found was that each of these women hon­ored God in a dif­fer­ent way, that they showed incred­i­ble brav­ery and faith that tran­scended their cul­ture, their cir­cum­stances, and their sta­tus as women in a patri­ar­chal world.

Chris­t­ian women are often told that their lives should look like car­bon copies of the woman cel­e­brated in Proverbs 31, and too often, the focus is on the ele­ments of that acros­tic poem that fea­ture the domes­tic accom­plish­ments of an upper-​​class ancient Near East­ern wife (keep­ing the home, pro­vid­ing food for the fam­ily, weav­ing from dawn until dark). But that misses the point of the text entirely! Proverbs 31 is not a to-​​list describ­ing what a woman is sup­posed to get done in a given day; it’s a poem cel­e­brat­ing what a woman has already accom­plished! It’s meant to honor a woman’s daily acts of valor, which is why the poem begins, “a woman of valor who can find?” (The Hebrew is eshet chayil — woman of valor).

What’s inter­est­ing is that the bib­li­cal hero­ine Ruth too is iden­ti­fied as a “woman of valor” (eshet chayil). And she is iden­ti­fied as such before is mar­ried, before she has chil­dren, and before she had a pot to pee in. In fact, you could argue that Ruth had the oppo­site lifestyle of the Proverbs 31 woman, since she was poor, wid­owed, and childless….and yet she too is iden­ti­fied as a “woman of valor.”

So as my explo­ration of these women went on, I began to see that being a woman of valor isn’t about what you do, but how you do it. It’s not about squeez­ing into a mold or a par­tic­u­lar lifestyle; it’s about liv­ing your life with char­ac­ter and brav­ery. It’s about liv­ing your life as the woman God cre­ated you to be.

Me: In your intro and through­out your book, you refer to your mom who pro­vided you with a Chris­t­ian upbring­ing. All the sto­ries about your child­hood sug­gest that though the mes­sag­ing of ide­al­ized bib­li­cal wom­an­hood was absorbed in church and rein­forced in col­lege, this was not the case in your home. Did you have con­ver­sa­tions at home with your mother or sis­ter about these things dur­ing your grow­ing up years? What about now? What did your mom think of your bib­li­cal wom­an­hood project ?

Rachel: My mom is awe­some. She never really fit into the per­ceived mold of the South­ern Chris­t­ian woman, and I love her for that! (She used to com­plain about how men were the only ones who enjoyed church potlucks because the women were always stuck doing all the work.) So I think I got a lot of my…chutzpah…from her, and I’m grate­ful. She and my dad have shown unwa­ver­ing sup­port for me, even when my pas­sion for gen­der equal­ity in the Church has set me at odds with evan­gel­i­cal lead­ers who are respected in their cir­cles. Same goes for my sis­ter, who, even though she is younger than me, I look up to as a model of valor and grace. We Held women have always been opin­ion­ated and strong, and we’ve always sur­rounded our­selves with men who aren’t intim­i­dated by that. So I think gen­der equal­ity has hap­pened nat­u­rally in our homes. The trick is see­ing it played out in the church.

Me: Your book is some­what mem­oiresque con­cern­ing your mar­riage. Your hus­band Dan is fea­tured a lot in the book includ­ing excerpts from his jour­nal dur­ing the time of your wom­an­hood project. In some ways, your book is as much about mar­riage as it is about a woman’s iden­tity. Did you intend this or is that where the writ­ing took you?

Rachel: We knew from the begin­ning that the project would turn a spot­light on our mar­riage, and we were a lit­tle ner­vous about that at first. But what the project did, in the end, was remind us of how happy we are func­tion­ing as a team of equal part­ners rather than as a hier­ar­chy. When I took some of those “sub­mis­sion” pas­sages lit­er­ally and out of con­text (as com­ple­men­tar­i­ans tend to do), Dan was just as uncom­fort­able as I was impos­ing a gender-​​based hier­ar­chy onto our mar­riage, believe me. At one point he “ordered” me to stop sub­mit­ting! So we both emerged from the project more appre­cia­tive of our rela­tion­ships, and happy to get back to nor­mal and just be our­selves. Impos­ing hier­ar­chy onto a part­ner­ship is dis­ori­ent­ing and unnec­es­sary, and I ache or all the cou­ples who feel like they have to do that because some­one told them that the Bible requires it.

Me: Every writer I know har­bors hopes and fears for the books they write. What are some of the hopes and fear you have for this book?

Rachel: I hope that A Year of Bib­li­cal Wom­an­hood will make peo­ple laugh. It includes a bunch of funny sto­ries (and pic­tures!) from my adven­tures in fol­low­ing all the Bible’s instruc­tions for women as lit­er­ally as pos­si­ble for a year…so I hope it enter­tains! I also hope that it helps lib­er­ate women from this idea that there’s just one right way to be a woman of faith, that “bib­li­cal wom­an­hood” means keep­ing the home and sub­mit­ting to men.

My fear, of course, is that it will be mis­un­der­stood. I think every writer wor­ries about that. I fear that peo­ple will judge it with­out read­ing it, that they will think I’m mak­ing fun of the Bible, when noth­ing could be fur­ther from the truth. I took on this project pre­cisely because I love the Bible, and I was tired of see­ing it reduced to a list of rules and roles when it came to some­thing as impor­tant and beau­ti­ful as womanhood.

Many thanks to Rachel for offer­ing my blog read­ers some insights into her book. For more info about A Year of Bib­li­cal Wom­an­hood check out Rachel’s blog, and if you don’t already sub­scribe to it, Do It !!

;

Rachel’s pub­lisher has offered to mail a book to three read­ers of this blog. So cool, right?!

Here’s what you need to do to try to score one of these copies:

  • Leave a com­ment Tell me what you think of this idea of “bib­li­cal womanhood.”


  • Sub­scribe to this blog If you aren’t already sub­scribed here’s a LINK to make that easy for you. Be sure you’re sub­scribed to the blog and not just my newslet­ter. Only sub­scribed read­ers are eli­gi­ble to win.


I will choose three com­men­tors based entirely on my sub­jec­tive pow­ers. Get your com­ment posted by Thurs­day, 12:00pm PST time. Click here to con­vert your time. Win­ners announced in Friday’s post. I will email win­ners for your mail­ing addresses to for­ward to the publisher.

Super excited. This is the first time I’ve offered a book give­away. I look for­ward to your com­ments. Who knew bib­li­cal wom­an­hood could be such a hot topic?

***POST UPDATE***

Here’s the LINK to see the winners!

Own­ing my Story (How I Almost Joined the Military)

railroad tracks

I almost joined the ser­vice. I was 18 years old. Fresh out of high school. I lived in Vegas with my fam­ily and I spent my time get­ting stoned and drunk. My old man, a retired Air Force sergeant, urged me to con­sider chang­ing my ways. After a bad acid trip I decided to take that advice to heart. The recruiter got me in quick. Within a cou­ple of weeks I was on a bus to an induc­tion cen­ter in the Ari­zona desert for pro­cess­ing. I, along with a bus load of recruits from all walks of life, went through a … Keep read­ing …

Port­land Sto­ries (a book event)

I’ve been home sick with an awful flu/​​cold virus this past week. This is why my blog has been so quiet. I’m hop­ping on real quick to post a flyer for a Port­land book event I’m a part of. If you live or will be near Port­land Nove­me­ber 3, con­sider your­self invited!! It’s a col­lab­o­ra­tive evening with Port­land authors, Tony Kriz and Leah McMa­hon. Here’s a link to the Face­book invite. Alright. Back to bed for me. I think this cold is devel­op­ing into a dou­ble ear infec­tion. I have a doc­tor appoint­ment tomor­row morn­ing. I will hope­fully be back in … Keep read­ing …

The Res­ig­na­tion of Eve: More than a Book Review

This is a long over­due review of a book project that I have heartily endorsed since I first heard about it in 2009 despite my stormy rela­tion­ship with it. More about that later… The Res­ig­na­tion of Eve : What if Adam’s Rib is No Longer Will­ing to be The Church’s Back­bone by Jim Hen­der­son is a book that gar­nered crit­i­cism before the man­u­script was barely begun. Jim, who is some­one I have a warm rela­tion­ship with, has authored sev­eral books. When he announced that his next book project would be about the sta­tus of women in the church I was an … Keep read­ing …

Unla­dy­like Help Needed

My book, Unla­dy­like: Resist­ing the Injus­tice of Inequal­ity in the Church, has been out for eight months.  Dur­ing this time I have heard from many read­ers who tell me how Unla­dy­like has given them courage to respond to Chris­tian­ized sex­ism.  I keep every email. These points of con­tact encour­age me that what I set out to do with my first book is being real­ized and it is this: To empower women to own their story and not wait for some­one else to revise it for them  As a writer, I am fully aware of the neces­sity of revi­sion and rewrites. An oft quoted … Keep read­ing …

HERetic of the Week : Kathy Esco­bar– A Cham­pion of Equal­ity and Empow­er­ment for Women

kathy escobar

Wel­come to Heretic Fri­day, or as I pre­fer to call it, HERetic!  Based on a recent reader sur­vey, I have been spot­light­ing a dif­fer­ent per­son or person(s) each week who cham­pion for the equal­ity of women in the world of church. It is my hope that the spirit of equal­ity that reigns strong in these women (and men) will be a con­ta­gion at this blog. I am look­ing to infect as many  peo­ple as I can with the idea that the unequal treat­ment of women in the church are acts of injus­tice and not just bib­li­cal man­dates doled out in the name of God. The peo­ple I high­light in this weekly col­umn are those broth­ers and sis­ters who won’t main­tain a reli­gious sys­tem marred by dis­crim­i­na­tion.  I am inspired.

This week’s HERetic of the Week is Kathy Esco­bar of Arvada, Col­orado.  Kathy is an author, blog­ger, pas­tor, speaker, teacher, wife and mom and friend.  I have known Kathy for about five years, hav­ing first met her at an Off the Map event in Seat­tle, WA that Jim Hen­der­son used to orga­nize. She instantly won me over with her dis­arm­ing per­son­al­ity and be real per­sona.  As I“ve got­ten to know Kathy over the years, one of the things that I have come to admire the most about her is her ded­i­ca­tion to serv­ing women and help­ing women become empow­ered in who they are. In fact, right now Kathy is facil­i­tat­ing an online course titled, Ex-​​Good Chris­t­ian Women’s Club. Reg­is­tra­tion is already closed, unfor­tu­nately, but here’s a link for your future ref­er­ence. I’ll try to announce it next time she offers it!)

This is just the sort of thing Kathy does : she gath­ers together hurt­ing women and helps them along on their jour­ney of heal­ing. God knows that there are many women limp­ing along who have had their iden­tity crip­pled by reli­gious mes­sag­ing. Kathy is fiercely com­mit­ted to help­ing women recover their iden­tity as human beings made fully in the image of God. Orga­niz­ing sem­i­nars is one way, but it is the befriend­ing of women, one cup of cof­fee at a time, and lis­ten­ing to the sto­ries that women need to tell, where Kathy’s spirit of heal­ing shines.

One of the most promi­nent ways Kathy cham­pi­ons for women is in her own com­mu­nity, The Refuge, an eclec­tic faith com­mu­nity she co-​​founded and co-​​pastors with her friend, Karl Wheeler. By liv­ing out loud and with trans­parency the strengths and hard­ships of copas­tor­ing a com­mu­nity with a non­tra­di­tional lead­er­ship model, Kathy is help­ing to pave the way for more women lead­ers to find their way in the body of Christ. When her years at a megachurch became sti­fling and stunt­ing, Kathy embarked on find­ing a way to have com­mu­nity where it didn’t mean you had to hide who you were . That’s how she and Karl planted The Refuge, a messy yet lovely band of folks who do not debate whether or not women can lead. Women just are, and so are men. Their is no ambi­gu­ity or doc­tri­nal side­step. Women are free to be fully human and fully woman and the Holy Spirit is free to use and speak through whomever he will. Gen­der does not disqualify.

It tells a story that we often want to min­i­mize – a story where men hold all of the power to “allow or per­mit” women to do or not do cer­tain things. — Kathy Esco­bar

That makes Kathy a hel­luva a heretic.

Besides lead­ing and pas­tor­ing, Kathy is also a pro­lific blog­ger and has gained a faith­ful read­er­ship dur­ing her years in the blo­gos­phere. Her blog­ging voice is uncom­pro­mis­ing as is her real-​​life voice:

we let women…”

i’m sure many of you have heard – or said – some vari­a­tion of this (i have said and heard both in all kinds of shapes & forms over the years): “we let women lead”, ”they let me lead”, “it’s so great that my church lets women lead.” “our church let a woman speak this week­end, isn’t that cool?”

i com­pletely get the vic­tory that hap­pens when women are some­how freed, and that always makes me happy.

but these state­ments also make me cringe. like really cringe. and unfor­tu­nately they are so com­mon that we accept them as progress, as some­thing good.

but when peo­ple say it like this, it is reveal­ing to what is going on under­neath – and the telling assump­tions that exist.

it tells a story that we often want to min­i­mize – a story where men hold all of the power to “allow or per­mit” women to do or not do cer­tain things.

a story where patri­ar­chal sys­tems & struc­tures & influ­ences trump the full­ness of God’s spirit-at-work-in-women’s-lives.  it’s a story that we’ve accepted as okay somehow. and it’s not okay.    - kathy escobar

Kathy is way famil­iar with how not ok the story of “let­ting women” lead is.  She has felt the

I’m in the mid­dle between Kathy on the left and Phyl­lis Mathis on the right. Phyl­lis co-​​facilitates classes with Kathy. They are cur­rently run­ning a sem­i­nar called The Ex-​​Good Chris­t­ian Women’s Club. Yep. I know. I wish I’d known about it sooner, too!

brunt of dis­crim­i­na­tion her­self when a newly pub­lished book was pulled off shelves when the dis­trib­u­tor (Life­way?) real­ized she was a pas­tor. Nope. No women pas­tors allowed as that would be out of line with scrip­ture. In other words, Kathy’s book was banned from that net­work because Kathy was liv­ing a life of heresy.

There’s so much more to say about my friend Kathy, but I will wrap it up here — Kathy Esco­bar is a pas­sion­ate advo­cate for equal­ity and jus­tice. She lives it, teaches it, and inspires oth­ers to do the same.

Click image. Avail­able on Amazon.

Kathy’s lat­est book, Down We Go : Liv­ing into the Wild Ways of Jesus, is avail­able on Ama­zon in print and on kin­dle. I highly rec­om­mend it!