Shepherd Like a Girl

Does your nativity set have any female shepherds? Mine doesn’t. And it’s amazing how much I have picked up unconsciously from art…. 

I didn’t realize that—without anything being said outright—I had internalized the idea that “shepherd” was a “guy” job. So, if I saw a Christmas pageant with girls dressed in bathrobes holding crooks, I told myself the real nativity story lacked girl roles so the directors were taking creative license. But now I know those girls in bathrobes more closely represented reality than did my misinformed imaginations.

My understanding about shepherds shifted radically when I traveled with my husband and daughter to Kenya’s Rift Valley. My husband is a U.S.-based missionary serving national leaders there. And while we were in Kenya, his ministry partner, Joseph, a Maasai warrior, introduced us to some of his friends.  

The Maasai are pastoral people—shepherds. Like Joseph, they live in individual huts inside bomas—enclosures made of brambles encircling huts made by women out of mud, sticks, grass, and cow dung. Inside the perimeter of the boma, another area, also made of brambles, serves as a livestock pen. 

The girls usually shepherd goats and sheep, sometimes with their moms or a grandparent, while boys shepherd the larger livestock. If a family has no girls—or not enough of them—the youngest son or sons also get assigned to sheep/goat duty. The pecking order is usually men, animals, women, children. For these pastoral peoples, livestock serve as their pantries, 401(k) plans, Meals on Wheels, bank accounts…. Often the shepherd-girls lack education, because someone has to guard the assets, and the boys’ educations have typically taken priority.

This setup or a similar one has been true for many shepherding tribes and peoples across time and geography. Consider that David, son of Jesse, who had multiple brothers—at least three in the army—was the youngest boy and the shepherd among Jesse’s eight sons. 

The Maasai, like some of the Bedouins my husband and I met in Jordan this summer, live—or abide—in the field. And that is exactly how Luke describes what the shepherds in Jesus’s birth narrative are doing—they are abiding, or living in the field. Not just “hanging out.” And they are watching their flock. Singular. So, the shepherds to whom the angel choir appeared were probably not a bunch of unrelated guys from different families watching multiple flocks on an open hillside. More likely, they were from one extended family unit with male, female, old, and young present. 

The highlight of my time with the Maasai in 2008 was watching the “Jesus” film with them. We threw a bedsheet over the top of a hut, hooked up a generator and voila! The best part was hearing them gasp for joy when the angels appeared to shepherds saying, in Naa—their own language— “Fear not! For I bring you good news of great joy for all the people!”   

A week later, we moved on to meet members of the Pokot tribe. And along the dirt road far from town we saw female shepherds out by themselves herding sheep.  

These experiences made me pose some questions about the biblical text to people who live much closer to its reality. And here’s what I learned: 

• Vocational shepherds are not outcasts. They smell a lot like a typical cowboy. Animal pens stink, but humans who keep the animals don’t walk around with dung clinging to themselves if they can help it.

• Nevertheless, shepherds don’t inhabit halls of power. My shepherd friends were overjoyed that in the film instead of appearing to leaders in palaces or temples, the angels came to those on the lower rungs of social power. These shepherds heard in the angels’ proclamation an emphasis on “all the people”—from the highest to the lowest.

• Girls were likely to have been present when the announcement was made about the good news being for all. The shepherds, plural, to whom the angels appeared were not individuals out by themselves alone in the dark. 

• As is true today, sheep in Jesus’s time were probably not wandering around on the hillside at night, but gathered into the sheepfold (see John 10). Shepherds guarded one entrance. And I corresponded yesterday with a Maasai brother who told me that in his world, after the animals go into their pen for the night, the whole extended family gathers around the fire for stories. That means we should probably envision an extended family warming themselves around a fire near a pen. 

So, what are some spiritual ramifications? 

• Women shepherd people. In a book on the ultra-conservative end of the gender debate, the authors imply that women cannot be spiritual shepherds because “shepherd” is a male job. Yet “Rachel came with her father’s sheep, for she was a shepherd” (Gen. 29:9). If we want to read biblical texts about shepherding as the original readers would have understood them, we will envision both males and females in view. The metaphor of a shepherd is that of one entrusted with the care of souls.

• We must read the Bible in community with Christians whose lives are closer to the world of the text than those of us with central heating and bank accounts with passwords. That means taking the posture of a learner in the presence of those who can see what many of us cannot. 

• Representation matters. When I mentioned on Twitter the possibility that females were present at the pronouncement of “good news for all the people,” some responded with tears and joy. For the first time they saw themselves in the story. In a quick search for Christmas Bible art, I found Mary to be the only female in any of the multiple scenes. The biggest demographic leaving the church is young females. Why might that be? 

• God loves the lowly; and so must we. Although shepherds are not the lowest of the low (as they are sometimes described), they themselves still acknowledge that neither are they the rich or powerful of this world. The heavenly choice to make the announcement to those outside of the usual power structures reveals something about the heart of God and inclusiveness of the good news. Do we want to be like him? 

Thanks to my time in the Rift Valley and in Jordan, I’m on the hunt for a manger scene that includes a female shepherd or two. (And some old people.) Since females were last at the cross, first at the tomb, and the first to herald the good news that Jesus is alive, it makes perfect sense that they also would have been among the first at the manger. And what does Luke tell us these shepherds did? After seeing the swaddled child, they spread the word. 

Like them, let us do the same—Go, tell it on the mountain! Jesus Christ is born!  

P.S. Some think the sheep being watched in the Bible story were those specially destined for sacrifice. The source of this information was a rabbinic Jewish scholar who converted to Christianity. But his idea has been further vetted. And comments in the link of this post address the details. Based on this research, I’m no longer inclined to think so. Nevertheless, the child who was born, the Good Shepherd, was indeed the lamb who was slain.  

Photo “Rebecka” by Dikla Laor at DiklaLaor.Photography. Used with permission.

10 Steps to a Calmer, More Christ-Focused Advent

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Image: What Wondrous Love “Festival of Lights”

by John August Swanson. Used with permission

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The word “advent” comes from “ad” meaning “to” as well as from “vent,” a form of a Latin word meaning “coming.” Think of the first word in: veni vidi vici—I came, I saw, I conquered. So: to come. For many Christians, the first Sunday in Advent—November 29 in 2020—marks the beginning of the Christian new year. Advent is the season when Christians look back and look forward; we look back on the first advent, or coming, of Messiah, and we look forward to the second advent—his return. During the four weeks leading up to Christmas, many believers observe Advent as a season of expectant waiting, during which we prepare our hearts. 

Two millennia ago as Israel awaited their Messiah, Herod—the kind of guy who ordered the killing of his own son—sat on the throne in Judea. Roman soldiers occupied Palestine and squashed the slightest hint of uprising with violence. Four hundred years had passed since the prophet Malachi promised that the Sun of Righteousness would rise with healing in its wings. That is a long time to go without a major prophetic word from God! Had the Lord abandoned his people? Would Messiah really show up? 

Advent reenacts that longing and waiting. In a few traditions, congregants even hold off singing “Joy to the world, the Lord is come!” till midnight on Christmas Eve. In both the Anglican and Lutheran Churches, Christmastide, commonly called the Twelve Days of Christmas, lasts twelve days, from 25 December to 5 January, the latter date being Twelfth Night (hence the title of the Shakespeare play by the same name). Those twelve days are the time to really focus on Christmas, crowned by Epiphany on January 6. (You’ll recall that many Christians actually observe Christmas on January 6.) So while many of us are boxing up ornaments, wreaths, and trees in the aftermath of the season, our brothers and sisters elsewhere are at the height of celebration with bells ringing and the aroma of greenery and Christmas pudding in the air.  

Whatever our traditions, most of us can do a better job of “preparing Him room.” We too easily get sucked into the vortex of shopping and spending. So, how can we make the season more focused on Christ, especially in a year during which we are more conscious than usual of our need for true hope? Doing so requires being intentional. So invest 30 minutes today or tomorrow in making this year great by nailing down some choices:

1. Choose a reading plan. The YouVersion Bible app has a number of Advent options you can follow for free. My students and I wrote a YouVersion Advent study this year titled “Advent Chai with Malachi,” which walks readers through the Book of Malachi with a focus on the Messiah to come. You can sign up today for the “plan” to begin on November 29. If you “friend” me via the app, we can participate in community. You can also purchase a print version of Advent Chai with Malachi for $3.99 on Amazon. The print version includes instructions and prayers that accompany use of the Advent wreath. I also love my copy of Fleming Rutledge’s Advent: The Once and Future Coming of Jesus Christ. Rutledge is one of my favorite author-theologians, and her book is full of Advent sermons and reflections. Figure out what you plan to do and sign up or order any needed resources today so you’ll be ready on November 29.

2. Pull out or order your Advent wreath before Sunday. If you’re doing a wreath this year, you’ll need a wreath with four candleholders. Along with the wreath, purchase fresh candles, three purple and a solo pink one, with a large, white candle for the center that can stand on its own.

3. Mark the days with a little ceremony. Advent wreaths and calendars help us focus on the weekly and daily countdowns to the day of celebration. I bought a lovely Advent calendar one year at the National Cathedral in Washington, DC. Note to self: I store it with the Christmas decorations, so I need to get the decorations down before December 15. Plan now for how you’ll make the days special.

4. Make choices about charitable giving. Pray about how you can make the greatest impact. Collect coins and keep them handy, ready for the Salvation Army bell ringers. For food drives, clean out the pantry but also pick up a few canned goods you would love to see if you were on the receiving end. As for the larger contributions, decide soon what charitable organizations will receive your giving dollars. Charities will bombard you with requests. May we rejoice that so many organizations are doing good in the world! We don’t have to feel guilty for giving intentionally to a select few. We can offer words of encouragement to the rest. 

5. Plan gift giving. List the people to whom you’ll give gifts, and collect their wish lists. If your family exchanges gifts, ask people to tell you what they want. Making homemade gifts? Get started. And think about ways to give meaningfully. On my FaceBook page, I asked people with small businesses to post links to their products so my friends and I can support them. A family member might appreciate receiving Grandma’s cheeseball recipe with a taste-able sample. Fair-trade jewelry can delight the recipient while benefitting the makers. A goat given to an impoverished family is a great way to honor someone who already has plenty of ties (and isn’t wearing ties during this Zoom season, anyway). Give books that inspire, music that lifts the heart, and even cooking, knitting, or art classes. Experiences make the best gifts, so give experiences when you can. If you have no money, consider making gift certificates that recipients can later redeem for gifts of your time (“An afternoon feeding the ducks together,” “A trip to the library and Starbucks coffee”; or “Two hours of raking”). Or perhaps you can sell some used pottery, books, an old chair, or some of that junk in the garage to raise sufficient funds to give? Take ten minutes now to plan. Remember especially the teachers, neighbors, first-responders, house-cleaners, salon workers and/or delivery people in our life. And start ordering. Buy gift cards. Obtain crisp bills. Select food trays. Pre-order. Get done early what you can do now. 

6. Write to encourage. If you sponsor a child, write him or her a letter soon (it may take a while to arrive) and tuck inside the envelope a bookmark or Christmas stickers—something that mails easily. As for cards or letters to your own friends, will you send those this year? If so, place your order. If you want to send an annual letter, plan a time to write it; and keep it simple, warm, and humble. When you send that family photo, remember the reason for the season, and include that reason in your design. Order Christmas stamps from the post office web site. And while you’re working on cards and gifts, print out mailing labels, or pre-set everything so you can “send” your electronic greetings soon. You’ll thank yourself later.  

7. Fill your car with cheer. Carry some Granola bars and bottles of water for the homeless. And make an Advent playlist, including the “waiting” songs from Handel’s Messiah, so you can hum along during drive time.    

8. Make plans for connection. In the craziness of the season, some deeply hurting people get overlooked. And we have more than the usual number of losses this year. Consider who would appreciate a phone call.  If your family isn’t gathering this year, go ahead and schedule a time for the family video-conference call so everyone can plan around the time and be present. Who can you invite?

9. Cook ahead. Start freezing dough so you can throw a batch of cookies in the oven on a moment’s notice. Get the big mess out of the way so you can enjoy great sweets and smells later without the time drain and sloppy kitchen. Make the cheeseball this week and freeze it. Double up freezing some healthful appetizers and meals while you’re at it. Making chili? Create a double batch and freeze half so you can thaw it in the crockpot on one of those crazy days when you have too much going on. 

10. Schedule quiet time. In the same way you might schedule cooking and football time, mark off some days. Include time to reset your focus with regular prayer, instrumental music, stretching exercises, hot peppermint tea, and time to savor the tree with lights twinkling. If all the parties and pageants are cancelled, think about what new traditions you want to establish. Reading aloud from Dickens’s A Christmas Carol? Rolling and baking cookies together? Listening to the entire Gospel of Luke read aloud? Movie night? Game night? Making a gingerbread house? A day of silence? An internet scavenger hunt?

To think further (more than the 30 minutes I promised) about this important topic, you can find lots of great ideas at adventconspiracy.org. 

World governments are an absolute mess. But a day is coming when the government will rest upon Messiah’s shoulders (see Isaiah 9:6). As we anticipate that day, let us keep him on the throne of our hearts. Jesus promised, “Be dressed for service and keep your lamps burning. Then you will be like servants waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that when he comes and knocks, they can open the door for him at once. Blessed are those servants whom the master finds on watch when he returns. Truly I tell you, he will dress himself to serve and will have them recline at the table, and he himself will come and wait on them. Even if he comes in the second or third watch of the night and finds them alert, those servants will be blessed!” (Luke 12:35–38). 

This post first appeared on bible.org's Engage site.

Church History: What Do We Learn about Women in Public Ministry?

“It was the feminist teachings of the past few decades that first spurred Christians to try to argue for [women in public ministry]. Like it or not, the two schools of thought are intertwined.” – Christian blogger

“The role of women in church ministry was simply not a burning question until it asserted itself in recent decades in conjunction with the modern women’s movement” – Men and Women in Ministry: A Complementary Perspective,p. 20

When I took some doctoral courses in history, I read numerous primary documents which revealed that the question about women in public ministry in the church has been burning since long before the U.S. Women’s Movement. So, I set out to determine when it actually started.  

I thought maybe it began with the American and French Revolutions with the cry for individual rights. But then I read documents like the pamphlet that Margaret Fell Fox (think George Fox of Quaker fame) wrote in 1666 titled “Women’s Speaking Justified, Proved, and Allowed by the Scriptures.” And I saw art like the above engraving dated to 1723 that features a woman preaching. 

So, I looked earlier. Maybe the Reformation started it, I thought—with its emphasis on the priesthood of all believers and the involvement of early women reformers like Katherina Zell. 

But then I found writings like those of Christine de Pizan, who was born in the 1300s. Her work, The Book of the City of Ladies, presents a positive view of the Bible as she cites examples of biblical women, carefully selecting those who challenge her culture’s misogynistic ideals. 

I kept going. Here are some samplings from the first nine centuries:

Pope PaschalI [Rome – West, AD 822] had a mosaic made of his mother, Theodora, labeled with the title “episcopa” (bishop). An inscription in another place in the same church (St. Praxedes) also describes her as “episcopa.” 

Council of Trullo, Constantinople [Turkey – East], AD 692, canon 14. The Council speaks of “ordination” [cheirotonia] for women deacons using the same term used for ordination of priests and male deacons. 

Synod of Orleans AD 533, canon 17 [France – West]. Attended by 32 bishops. Here’s a quote from the Synod: “Women who have so far received the ordination to the diaconate against the prohibitions of the canons, if it can be proved that they have returned to matrimony, should be banned from communion.” 

St. Remigius of Reims [AD 533 AD, France] makes mention of his daughter, the deacon(ess) Helaria, in his will.  

Synod of Epaone, AD 517, canon 21 [France]. “We abrogate the consecration of widows whom they call ‘deaconesses’ completely from our region.” 

Ecumenical Council of Chalcedon, [East – Turkey] canon 15, AD 451.  An earlier minimal age of 60 years for women deacons was relaxed to 40 years. The earlier practice was based on 1 Timothy 5:9: “Let a widow be enrolled if she is not less than sixty years of age.”  

Synod of Orange, [West – France] AD 441, canon 26. Attended by 17 bishops. “Altogether no women deacons are to be ordained. If some already exist, let them bend their heads to the blessing given to the (lay) people.”  

First Council of Nicea, [Turkey – East] canon 19, AD 325. Deacon(esse)s are mentioned in passing in a canon referring to the reconciliation of ex-members of the sect of Paul of Samosata (AD 260–272). Paul, patriarch of Antioch, denied the three Persons of the Trinity: “In this way one must also deal with the deaconesses or with anyone in an ecclesiastical office.”  

Back, back, back I went. And each century sent me to an earlier one to find when it started. Eventually, I concluded that evidence for orthodox Christians affirming women in public ministry started on the day of Pentecost.  

So what happened after that? What led to the changes? 

This fall, I have been camping out in the first six centuries of church history, tracing the office of widow, which I first saw years ago mentioned in my Greek lexicon (BADG) as the last entry for the meaning of “widow.” It appears that the early church did have such an office, along with that of deacon(ess).  

In 1976, a scholar in Belgium named Roger Grayson published a book titled The Ministry of Women in the Early Church with The Order of St. Benedict. It was translated into English and published by The Liturgical Press—not exactly feminist credentials. And he traces the offices of widow and deacon(ess) through the early centuries of the church. After surveying the data, he draws this conclusion: “Up to the end of the nineteenth century, historians of the early Church often identified deaconesses and widows as if these two different titles corresponded, for those who held them, to the same function.” In other words, historians conflated the two offices of deacon(ess) and widow. He goes on to note that “since deaconesses and widows obviously corresponded to quite different institutions, one can only wonder, after a close study of all the evidence, at the persistence of such an error” (110). That is, how is it possible that—in light of such overwhelming evidence—the error of conflating the two so stubbornly persisted? 

Before exploring the answer, we need to keep in mind two details: 

First, there was no female form of the word “deacon” in the early church and for some centuries to follow, in the same way that the word “teacher” in English does not indicate gender (e.g., teacher/teachess). That’s why I’m denoting uses of the word in this post as “deacon(ess)” unless the word “deaconess” appears in someone else’s quote.

Second, I’m using “office” to refer to positions in the church that have come with qualifications of character, as contrasted with “gifts,” which are bestowed by the Spirit on all believers. 

Now then, apparently, historians expanded their tools of analysis beyond church fathers’ manuscripts and pronouncements by councils to include liturgies and tombstones for mentions of “deacon(ess)” in the early church. Yet in some places, we don’t even begin to find mention of “deacon(ess)” till the third century because the prominent office in that geographical location was “widow.” And the office of deacon(ess) looked different from the office of “widow” in the first centuries. And how the clergy was even configured varied by location (east as compared with west), century, and local council. 

As Grayson has noted, such historians were not looking for references to the office of “widow.” Thus, some concluded that women’s membership in the clergy was a late development. Because if someone is thinking the word “widow” refers only to a woman bereft of her husband rather than also including an office rooted in 1 Timothy 5, that researcher can see a tombstone that says “a widow of the church” and miss that he or she is looking at the very evidence sought. Consequently, some historians have drawn faulty conclusions.

Grayson summarizes: “One thing is undeniable: there were in the early Church women who occupied an official position, who were invested with a ministry, and who, at least at certain times and places, appeared as part of the clergy. These women were called ‘deaconesses’ and at times ‘widows’” (xi). 

May I remind the reader that Grayson was writing in the 1970s for a Roman Catholic publisher in a different country? This is not US feminism in the Protestant church talking.   

The history of women in public ministry reveals that it started at the beginning. And practices in the East differed from those in the West. 

In some locations, the widow was 60 years old or older, and the virgin was younger. Tertullian [b. AD 160, N. Africa] ranked the widows among the clergy, and spoke of seats being reserved for them. In his work titled De virginibus velandis (9:2–3) he wrote with displeasure, “I know plainly that in a certain place a virgin less than twenty years old has been placed in the order of widows (in viduatu)!” Clearly, in this instance a “virgin” is not simply a maiden, but someone consecrated to Christ for vocational ministry. 

In the East, deacon(esse)s catechized women considering conversion, assisted at baptisms for women converts, and distributed the Eucharist to female shut-ins. The ordination rites for deacons and deacon(esse)s were almost identical.  

By the third century in the West, the office of widow was described as a thing of the past. Grayson notes that whenever the Alexandrians [i.e., Egypt—West] mentioned women deacons or widows, they referred to these as offices of the past, not active in the present. Both Clement and Origen occasionally recognized that women were placed in the service of the church in the time of the apostle Paul, but these men did not indicate that the office survived.   

In the fifth century the Testamentum Domini Nostri Jesu Christi, probably from Syria [East], devoted four long chapters to widows. It referred to the “ordination of widows,” in two instances using the same word employed for clerics in major orders. 

Later in the East, the relationship between widows and deacon(esse)s makes a reversal, and widows, who had once supervised deacon(esse)s become subject to deacon(esse)s.

Eventually, offices in the East have the same labels as in the West, but in the West they are merely honorary. The East was actually more conservative and segregated, so we find more mentions of workers doing ministry focused exclusively on women. For men to do so would have been considered an encroachment beyond their boundaries. But as infant baptism eventually replaced adult baptism, the need for someone to assist with female adults being baptized (often nude to symbolize “rebirth”) disappeared.

What other factors besides infant baptism led to the tapering off of women in ordained ministry?

These reasons emerged from the writings: 

• Rise of the all-male priesthood in the pattern of the Old Testament. (What happened to the NT priesthood of all believers?)

• A return to Old Testament temple practices—especially after Constantine, with church buildings and the clergy/laity divide—such as barring menstruating women from worship. (What happened to the veil being ripped and the Law being replaced by Christ?)

• Anthropology. Some of the church fathers held to Greek views (think Aristotle) of woman’s nature, which would be unanimously denounced today. (Why pattern the church’s practice after the thinking of a pagan philosopher?)

• Misogyny. Many believed women were weak, fickle, lightheaded, of mediocre intelligence, and a “chosen instrument of the devil.”  (Does that sound at all like Jesus?)

Regardless of what conclusions we draw about what of today’s practices should build on tradition and what need to go, we must never think that the US Women’s Movement was ground zero for the public, vocational, ordained ministry of women in the church. When we say such things, historians roll their eyes. If we talk only of what the church fathers were doing without including what the women were doing, we are talking only about “men in church history,” not “church” history.  

It was not the feminist teachings of the past few decades that first spurred Christians to argue for women in public ministry. Like it or not, it started at Pentecost. And it will be fully realized in the eschaton (Joel 2, Acts 2). 

On True Biblical Manhood and Womanhood

Beyond Ordinary Women Ministries featured a podcast/webinar in which I talked with host Sharifa Stevens about biblical manhood and womanhood. Lots of teachings floating around on the subject are rooted in stereotype rather than scripture. If something is scriptural, it must be timeless and not bound to a specific culture. Have a listen.

Urban Legends of Church History

In their new book (launching today!), Urban Legends of Church History: 40 Common Misconceptions, my colleagues Drs. John Adair and Michael Svigel dispel dozens of oft-repeated myths related to the history of the church. These friends take on important issues like the canonization of the Bible, the development of the doctrine of the Trinity, and salvation by grace through faith—important fallacies, exaggerations, or misunderstandings from the early church, the medieval period, the Protestant era, and the modern age. Each chapter both corrects the urban legend and includes an application section highlighting implications for us today.

Besides the forty major myths, Adair and Svigel also include brief “Mini Myths,” features addressing common legends floating around in popular culture. One of these counters the legend that the Roman Catholic Church once had a female Pope; another corrects the popular Christmastime claim that St. Nicholas punched Arius in the face at the Council of Nicaea in A.D. 325. 

Adair and Svigel also weigh in on some issues of debate in the modern church, like whether the United States was founded as a Christian nation or whether the church had always taken Genesis 1 literally until the challenge of evolution.

In one chapter Adair and Svigel argue that the early church had an ordained office of “minister” (or “deaconess”), and they offer up some practical advice for today: “Refusing women any kind of church office can lead us to think about the work of the ministry as the exclusive territory of males. Rather, the witness of the early church suggests that the focus should be on looking for opportunities for all of the church’s members to serve the family of God” (p. 74). 

Rather than irrelevant trivia from the past, Urban Legends of Church History provides wisdom and insight to help us think through issues today. I highly recommend this resource.  

Where can you get it?

Lifeway

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Thinking about Singles

According to the North Carolina Family Council, among 30- to 64-year-old Christians, close to 40 percent are single—with that number rising as people age beyond 65. Yet single people often feel invisible within their church communities, which tend to emphasize family life. So how can we be more inclusive?

Mention positive single people as role models. If you’re a speaker or small group leader, include examples of single people. They might be from Bible stories such as Jesus, Daniel and Paul or Mary and Martha. Or they might be from history, such as Fanny Crosby or George Frideric Handel. And while you’re at it, broaden references to men and women’s vocations beyond breadwinning and parenting.

Include single people. Mention them in prayer. Invite them to join you for small-group gatherings such as movie nights, dinner parties and your kids’ soccer games, even when all other adults present are married. Single people need relationships with others from all walks of life.  

Help them. Offer to join them as they hunt for an apartment or home. Tell them, “Call any time day or night if your car stalls on the highway or you find your home vandalized.” Ask them to sit with you in church. And send them home with yummy leftovers.

Whom can you encourage by reaching out?

MTL (More to Life) magazine is selling our new book, Sanctified Sexuality, for about $5 off. The book has a couple chapters relating to being single and celibacy.

Book Launch Day

Today it's official! The compilation Dr. Gary Barnes and I curated, Sanctified Sexuality: Valuing Sex in an Oversexed World, launches today.

One of my students asked some questions about it, and I thought they—along with the answers—might be of interest to my readers.

Our hope for this book is that it will meet the needs people have for information about how the Scriptures speak to areas of sexual ethics. We also hope it will serve as a guide for how to apply the Bible’s teachings in ways that promote human flourishing. Many of us have heard that the Scriptures are relevant for addressing complex sexual issues such as identity, gender, same-sex attraction, sexual abuse, and how to talk to our youth about sexual ethics; but what does the Bible actually say on these issue—and more? Much of the information on social media is wrong; but even if it’s correct, the tone can be off-putting. So, we chose topics from the headlines and paired them with experts whom we felt were already doing a great job of integrating both grace and truth. And we included a chapter on how to talk with others with whom we disagree. So, our hope for this book is that it will both provide biblical teaching as well as help readers apply and talk about that information in winsome ways.      

Q: What gave you the idea to write Sanctified Sexuality?

By the time the U.S. Supreme Court guaranteed same-sex couples the right to marry, a lot of ministry workers had made a lot of unfortunate statements. As professors at a theological seminary we cringed as we watched speakers use Genesis out of context, disparage people with same-sex attraction, and alienate conversation partners—and then describe some of the justified criticism they received as “persecution.” As all this was happening, Gary Barnes and I had a conversation in which we said, “We need to do a better job of training ministry workers in these areas of sexual ethics.” So, we created—really, curated—a course titled “Sexual Ethics.” And we invited experts who hold to a high view of Scripture and asked them to lecture on their areas of expertise. These lecturers were scholars, men and women from differing specialties, educational institutions, and religious traditions, who addressed these issues from the perspective of theologians, exegetes, and practitioners. And we asked each speaker to contribute a chapter.  

Q: What are some of the topics Sanctified Sexuality covers?

Sanctified Sexuality addresses such issues as the theology of the human body; male and female in the Genesis creation accounts; gender; conception; abortion; adolescent and young adult sexuality; rape; celibacy; pornography; sexuality in marriage; contraception; infertility; cohabitation; divorce and remarriage; same-sex attraction; gender dysphoria; how to make ethical decisions; and personal and interpersonal sexual ethics.

Q: Which chapter did you find most surprising in this compilation and why? 

As we were working on this text, the hashtag #MeToo went viral, followed by #ChurchToo. And while I imagine most people would say they concur with the Bible’s ethics relating to sexual abuse, again, the conversations we heard included a lot of unfortunate interactions. And a lot of misinformation. And we saw the need for ministry leaders and churches to do a much better job of creating environments where abuse is less likely to happen. So, while the chapter we added on rape and sexual abuse was not surprising in its content, its inclusion was an unexpected development. 

Q: What is the main message you want readers to take away from Sanctified Sexuality? 

Every human is a sexual being, having been given a sexed body by our Creator. Our good God’s guidance for how to live our embodied lives contributes to our thriving and that of others. We can both know what he intends for our good and learn to communicate that good in a way that encourages others to love and good deeds.  

Q: Is Sanctified Sexuality specifically for Christian leaders or do you also recommend the book to others? 

While Sanctified Sexuality is an academic work published by the academic wing of a Christian publisher, we have sought to include a lot of helps to make the book accessible. At the end of each chapter we included questions for discussion and recommended resources for those wanting to explore further. 

Q: Why is your heart especially drawn to these topics?

My husband and I experienced a decade of infertility and pregnancy loss that led us to engage in years of study about what Scripture says regarding God’s design for male and female. Must it include children? What were the implications for our identities as male and female? And what are the boundaries of human dominion as they relate to the human embryo? That experience set us on a journey of exploring the Scriptures and ethics as they relate to sexuality, marital intimacy, infertility and reproductive ethics, and where families without children fit into God’s good plan. Knowing and understanding what Scripture says on these and other foundational issues can transform us. Today I am committed to helping others explore some of these same transformative concepts.  

Q: Okay, the obvious—where can I get this book?

Amazon. My own web site. Or ordered from pretty much anywhere books are sold.

Little Things Matter: A Story of Suffering, Survival, and Legacy

When Barry Annino set out to write a book on life after a terminal diagnosis, his wife, Debora, embarked on her own writing journey. Their new memoir chronicles their experience in “suffering, survival and legacy” from their two very different perspectives. In this Q&A, Debora (seen below with one of the girls whose lives she is working to improve) shares insights about keeping the faith during her own recent battle with breast cancer and the steps she’s taking to continue her journey of writing and service through the Little Things Matter Foundation.

Debora, you wrote this book after your husband’s diagnosis with a terminal illness. What was your original intention behind it?

Writing about suffering was never my original plan. Before Barry was diagnosed with Stage IV liver cancer, I was writing about my journey along El Camino de Santiago, the ancient route of pilgrims and seekers across Northern Spain. But that writing journey took a left turn after Barry became ill. At that point, I realized I had entered a new chapter in our lives, so I set that project aside and focused on what was in front of us. During our crisis, my CaringBridge journal became my writing outlet. Meanwhile, Barry had become interested in documenting his experience and the new point of view he was developing. Eventually, our stories—and our paths—converged into this book, Little Things Matter, and a charitable foundation by the same name.

You had a crash course in suffering and have come out of it with some wisdom. What has been your source of hope in suffering?

I’ve learned that during any trial we are going through – I’ve had friends suffer job losses, illness, the anxiety of isolation, tough stuff – if you keep your focus on the hope of the future instead of the bog of despair, it helps carry you through. A harsh, sometimes terrible reality is that people suffer. I have a dear friend and former professor whose adult son committed suicide during COVID-19. He was in his 40s with a wife and young son. My friend also lost her husband when her boys were teenagers. So, yes, there is suffering that comes from mental illness and things that overwhelm us. But there is also suffering that comes from being human and living in a broken world. We can’t escape it, but we can learn to get through it with the hope that gives us the ability to endure and see the good even amidst the pain.

How do you maintain hope in the future?

For me, coming from a faith-based perspective, thinking of the greater good that can come out of this gives me hope. This current trial takes my daughter and me to a place of growth that is more significant than where we were before. It is a painful journey, and some days we are just pushing through. Yet, I’m learning that difficulty, challenges, and discomfort lead us to become who we are meant to be—that is if we allow ourselves to learn from it. Barry left this earth a greater man because of his journey of suffering. He acquired a deeper understanding of the purpose of life and greater compassion for others.

How did seeing your husband’s journey through the lens of faith affect your attitude about terminal illness?

Barry didn’t want to go through what he had to go through, but by his own admission, he was happier for it. It was very comforting to me to understand the power of transformation in Barry’s life. There are confidence and grounding that come from knowing that what we’re going through today does have a purpose. If we go back to my faith perspective, scripture says in this world there will be trouble. Knowing that we aren’t alone, we do have Christ who came to help us, and one day all shall be well.

Your faith seems to be a source of courage for you. Can you explain how this works?

Sure, I can try. Easter before last, I was in church, and during my time of worship, I imagined Barry standing next to Jesus. He had a big smile on his face, and he was staring down at me, and I got this feeling that where he now lives is so much better than where we are. And then there was this other time when I was walking my neighborhood, and there was this absolutely beautiful orange and pink sky. I thought if that was just a small glimpse of heaven’s beauty, there is something beautiful ahead. Knowing that God’s place is more beautiful than the glow of a sunset, I’m not afraid of dying or where I’m going. I’m only concerned about the wellbeing of those I leave behind.

What lessons can you share now that you are enduring your own experience with cancer?

Getting this diagnosis after losing Barry feels significant. Of course, it leaves me wondering what it means. It is hard not to ask "Why?" When I began to look for answers for Barry, I recall that he didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to be consumed with researching cancer. It becomes overwhelming. Now that I’m experiencing this myself, I understand why he wasn’t being more proactive. I have felt the same. I want to enjoy my days without all my thoughts being consumed by cancer. One of Barry’s quotes we used in the book is, “Even if I live to be 80, I realize I’m on the meter.” You realize that life is short. So I try to focus on what he did, which is helping others through our foundation. 

Tell us about that.

One of my greatest passions is supporting meaningful projects in Mexico that generate long-term impact through our non-profit, Little Things Matter. Examples of our work include raising chickens and organic farming. Both provide much-needed nutrition but also education, skills-building, and economic opportunities. We invest in educational-enrichment classes for children in marginalized communities, and we host an engaging week-long summer camp for children that teaches about creation care and their value, having been made in the image of God. Some of these projects have been interrupted by COVID-19, but we have found other ways to keep investing in communities in areas of need during this pandemic by distributing food to the most vulnerable and providing children with educational activity take-home kits.

What excites you most about completing this book?

My goal was to honor Barry’s life and to know that I shared his message. Documenting it in this book ensures his experience and mode of expression will live on and have an impact. Beyond that personal goal, the real purpose of writing this, or anything, is to bring a new perspective to the world. Knowing that even one person was touched by it brings me joy. 

Since getting started down this road, I’ve been fortunate to have mentors to help me grow as a writer. Now I’m trying to pass it on to others who are beginning their own journey. I have the honor of hosting an annual writer’s workshop and retreat at my home in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, with Dr. Sandra Glahn (that's you!). As you told aspiring writers at our workshop last January:

My advice, if you are inclined at all to write, is this: Do it. Don’t let that voice telling you someone else has ‘already done it better’ hold you back. Perhaps that better-written book will never make it into the hands of one of your readers, and you will get to be the fortunate soul through whom someone’s life is forever changed.

We all have our voice. If we want, each of us can share a part of ourselves by leaving our stories behind, whether through the history we share with our families, the wisdom we impart to our children, or what we leave for our communities.

When I think about the bigger picture of writing, we each make a unique contribution when we put our stories out there. Some stories are comedies, and some are tragedies. Our story has a little of both, along with a fair amount of hope and redemption. That all of this came out of a personal tragedy makes me appreciate how God works to bring good from all things. It reminds me of a film I recently watched starring Oprah Winfrey called The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. It’s about tumor tissue that became the basis of medical research. This tissue did so much to improve research and others’ lives that it seems to give purpose to the tumor in the first place. It feeds my soul to know that through telling the story of my family’s suffering, survival, and legacy, I am part of that continuum—and the journey continues.

To purchase the book, click here to visit Amazon. All proceeds benefit the Little Things Matter Foundation.

The Liturgy of Politics

One of my students at DTS, Kaitlyn Scheiss ("Shess") is a writer whose posts at Christ and Pop Culture land in the top-traffic spots and whose piece in The NY Timeson August 26 explored the fiasco at her alma mater, Liberty University. She has some excellent insights into evangelicals' divisions, or political messes, and our unique weaknesses—while loving her own people and holding firmly both to the truth and to compassion.

Recently she released a book (officially out today) with IVP titled The Liturgy of Politics: Spiritual Formation for the Sake of Our Neighbor. And I. Love. This. Book. Scheiss packs a prophetic punch about American evangelicals’ complacency, our ignorance of Scripture, and our cultural conformity. How well she knows us! But rather than leave us despairing, she calls readers to repentance with a vision of hope. Her main argument: We are moving toward a political reality, and our formation should align with that reality. 

Her work is not about how to vote. It is about how to be in a world in which everything we do is political.

Highly recommended. (But only if you can stand getting your toes squashed a bit.)

What Is Church? On the pod...

I love traveling internationally with Kate Boyd, podcast host of Happy and Holy. She's a seminary-trained writer and thinker. Recently, Kate and I had a conversation in which we explored "What is Church?" especially in light of global limitations due to COVID-19. You can find her podcast on your favorite podcast player or search for Happy & Holy in your player of choice.

What Does It Mean that Woman is "Helper" (Ezer)?

Some years ago, I was interviewing an elderly Old Testament scholar about the Book of Genesis. A brilliant man with decades of experience in mostly Baptist churches and seminary contexts, he knew Hebrew and Akkadian and Aramaic. And he had a solid grasp of ancient Near Eastern culture. When I asked him to comment on how Genesis delineates male/female difference, he looked surprised. “Difference? In Genesis?” The idea struck him as preposterous. Then he insisted, “The first two chapters of Genesis place an emphasis on how much the man and woman are alike.” He went on to stress that the humans share the same name, “adam.” And when the female is created after the male has named a bunch of animals, the male exclaims that “Finally! he has found a creature that’s like him (Gen. 2:23), from his bones, his flesh.” That’s not to say male and female are interchangeable, he insisted. Of course not. But the force of the early chapters of Genesis is on our first parents’ similarity—unlike humanity as compared with, say, giraffes with hairy flesh and birds with feathery flesh and fishes with scaly flesh. Finally!—the man is thrilled that this complementary creature has fleshy flesh.   

I pressed further, thinking perhaps this scholar stood at odds with “complementarian” teaching. But he had never heard of that term. Nor had he heard of “egalitarian” as a label for one’s view of male/female. Nor did he seem to be aware of the battles raging about gender differences based in Genesis. These topics he relegated to the social sciences. As far as Genesis was concerned, to his mind, the focus was unity. 

 Now, let’s retrace our steps a bit to look at the text: God makes the ’adam—not the male but the ‘adam, “them”:  

    So God created ‘adam in his own image,

    in the image of God he created them;

    male and female he created them (Gen 1:27–28).

At this point, ‘adam is “them.”“They” are called “ ‘adam.” And God made this ‘adam from the ground or dirt. And this human God made was alone. Can you imagine the loneliness of being the only human on earth? (The best imagining I’ve seen of the creature’s mourning his uniqueness is Frankenstein.) The ‘adam felt such aloneness profoundly, especially after seeing that every other creature got to have a partner. 

Up to this point in the days of creation, God has called all things “good.” But suddenly, he declares that the sole human’s aloneness is not good (2:18).  

So, the Creator gives the 'adam an anesthetic. And he crafts a woman straight from the man’s flesh to be a skilled companion, a partner. And God describes this new companion as ezer, (which rhymes with “gazer” and for centuries has been a popular name for Jewish boys). Translators often render the word ezer into English as “helper.” 

Now, sadly, many read that word and think of Hamburger Helper, “Mommy’s little helper,” and plumber’s helper. So, they think “helper” in Genesis means something secondary, an assistant. After all, if a president of a corporation needs help, he or she hires a subordinate. Most of us, in fact, think of a hierarchy when we hear the word “helper”—an organization chart in which the main character is at the top and everyone else plays a supporting role to the boss and his or her mission, vision, and calling.  

But that is not how this word works in Genesis. Not at all. Consider the type of help we see in the following examples:

• A child asks her mom for help with math. The mother, a math teacher, understands algebra and can explain and guide her child through working the formulas.

• One friend helps another by showing her how to use new software so she can develop the skills needed to land a better job.

• A surgeon with a complicated case calls in a colleague to help in areas where he or she has specialized expertise the surgeon lacks.

In each of these uses of the word help, the one helping does so from a position of expertise and strength. And that is how we should understand the use of ezer as it describes woman in Genesis. This word appears in the Old Testament a total of twenty-one times.

Twice it refers to the first woman. Three times it describes nations to whom Israel appeals for military help. And most significantly, sixteen times it refers to God himself as the “helper” of his people.

I read a book once on the spiritual life in which the author said we should never ask God for help, as doing so suggests we are the main event and he is the helper. Clearly the author had missed a few passages where godly people pleaded with God for his help. The psalmist, for example, writes, “Strangers are attacking me. . . . Surely God is my help; the LORD is the one who sustains me” (Ps. 52:3–4, emphasis added). When we pray, “God, help me!” surely we don’t have an unskilled assistant or subordinate in mind.

Or how about this one? The author of Deuteronomy writes, ‘There is none like God, O Jeshurun, who rides through the heavens to your help [ezer], through the skies in his majesty” (33:26); and “Happy are you, O Israel! Who is like you, a people seen by the LORD, the shield of your help [ezer], and the sword of your triumph! Your enemies shall come fawning to you, and you shall tread upon their backs” (33:29). These are cries for God’s strength and power for Israel in times of great distress. 

The author of Genesis is using a word that carries a strongly positive meaning and which suggests skill and strength. And interestingly, those who translated the Hebrew Bible into Greek for the first time (LXX) chose to render ezer into Greek with a term often used to describe the help of a surgeon who calls in a skilled colleague to lend specialized expertise in a tough case—as in the third example above.

The word ezer in the Old Testament is closely connected with military language. God is the helper of the nation of Israel—their sword, and shield, and deliverer. He is his people’s ever-present rescuer from trouble. He is better than armies, chariots, and horses. He keeps watch like a guard over his people, and with his strong arm he overthrows their enemies. That’s the kind of help Genesis describes as coming from their ezer. And the ezer who is “woman” is made in His image—as is the “man.”

So, based on the consistent use of this term elsewhere in the Old Testament, it only makes sense to conclude that God created the woman to be a strong ally and fellow warrior with the man. Fighting battles is not just for males; females are called to put on our armor (see Ephesians 6). The description of Lady Wisdom personified as a woman in Proverbs 31 is full of battle words such as “valor,” “strength,” and “prey.” So, woman is man’s coregent, and coheir, his skilled colleague and fellow warrior, and a force to be reckoned with against their mutual enemy on the battlefield of life.

Woman is called ezer. And if married, this ezer is in a unique position to meet her husband’s insufficiencies with her own strengths. Perhaps this is why opposites tend to attract. Together they reflect the image of God as strengths and weaknesses complement each other. Think of the money-whiz wife helping her impulsive husband; or the spontaneous wife helping her highly regimented man; or the reserved husband married to a woman who loves adventure. Or vice versa in each of these cases. 

Woman’s presence in creation is the only addition needed before God can pronounce his creation not only “good,” but “very good.” She solves the man’s problem—not that he needed an assistant because the Garden left him overworked. But that he was alone and now has an indispensable companion in their mutual task to rule and fill the earth.  

Someone said recently, “My role as helper is to help my husband in his calling.” And I would agree. And equally true is the reality that he is to help his wife in her calling. Think of Ephesians 5…the husband is to present his wife “without blemish,” and “spotless…before the throne” (v. 27). That is, he contributes to her spiritual thriving. It is not his job to be her instructor in all things spiritual; it is his job to help create an environment where she can use her gifts, bless others, and embody wisdom…stretching her hand to the needy (Prov 31:20), buying and selling (v. 16), and teaching the “torah of hesed” (v. 26).

My husband encouraged me to go to seminary and go on to get my PhD so I could be better equipped in my own faith as well as to serve God’s people. He has cheered me on, sacrificed financially, co-partnered in childcare, laundry and grocery shopping—done whatever necessary to make it possible for me to use my gifts and thrive. And I have sought to do the same for him. Together we are better. 

My friend Dani Ross notes, “Traditionally, Genesis 2:18 has been translated as, ‘I will make him a helper fit for him.’ ‘Helper fit’—or the KJV rendering, ‘help-meet’—has been understood to imply only a number of roles women are to perform …But ‘help-meet,” or ezer-kenegdo, has a much deeper meaning than a glorified secretary to a woman’s male superior. As Carolyn Custis James notes in Half the Church (p. 112), ‘Kenegdo indicates ezer is the man’s match—literally, “as in front of him”—as Yin is to Yang… [Kenegdo] suggests that what God creates for Adam will correspond to him. Thus, the new creation will be neither a superior nor an inferior, but an equal.’ Adam doesn’t shout, ‘Finally! Someone to take care of these dishes while I get the real work done!’ No, he responds with pure joy, knowing he is not alone in this great responsibility of being fruitful and multiplying, ruling and subduing.” 

Whether married or single, woman is man’s indispensable ally. And we are indeed in a battle—not with each other, but against our mutual enemy. And we do so for the glory of our true King, our help, our Savior and Lord. 

Portions adapted from my chapter titled “A Word to Wives” inSexual Intimacy in Marriage, 4th ed. (Kregel). Photo credit: Moody Bible Institute

A sneak peak at my forthcoming compilation: Sanctified Sexuality

Christians today often either demonize or deify sex. And those committed to biblical thinking about sex sometimes lack a loving tone. What does God say about human sexuality, and how do we hold meaningful conversations? My colleague, Dr. Gary Barnes, and I have brought together more than twenty Christian experts in relevant fields of study—such as theology, medicine, and counseling—to discuss some of today’s most challenging ethical issues relating to sexuality. Our new book, Sanctified Sexuality: Valuing Sex in an Oversexed World (Kregel Academic) provides a handbook for Christian leaders who want a biblical foundation for understanding and talking about current issues relating to sexuality. Below I talk with my intern, Ver-lee, about our book, which is available now for pre-order. (It's due out any time; it helps sales numbers if readers buy before it hits the warehouse.)

Q: What are some needs in our culture, ministries, and families that this book meets?

Our hope for this book is that it will meet the needs people have for information about how the Scriptures speak to areas of sexual ethics. We also hope it will serve as a guide for how to apply the Bible’s teachings in ways that promote human flourishing. We chose topics from the headlines and paired them with experts whom we felt were already doing a great job of integrating both grace and truth. And we included a chapter on how to talk with others with whom we disagree. Our hope for this book is that it will both provide biblical teaching and help readers apply and talk about that information in winsome ways.      

Q: What gave you the idea to write Sanctified Sexuality?

By the time the U.S. Supreme Court guaranteed same-sex couples the right to marry, a lot of ministry workers had made a lot of unfortunate statements to the press. As professors at a theological seminary we cringed as we watched speakers use Genesis out of context, disparage people with same-sex attraction, and alienate conversation partners—and then describe some of the justified criticism they received as “persecution.” As all this was happening, we had a conversation in which we said, “We need to do a better job of training ministry workers in these areas of sexual ethics.” So, we created—really, curated—an online course titled “Sexual Ethics.” And we invited experts who hold to a high view of Scripture to lecture in their areas of expertise. These lecturers were scholars, men and women from differing specialties, educational institutions, and religious traditions, who addressed the issues from the perspective of theologians, exegetes, and practitioners. And we asked each speaker to contribute a chapter.  

Q: What are some of the topics Sanctified Sexuality covers?

Sanctified Sexuality address such issues as the theology of the human body; male and female in the Genesis creation accounts; gender; conception; abortion; adolescent and young adult sexuality; rape; celibacy; pornography; sexuality in marriage; contraception; infertility; cohabitation; divorce and remarriage; same-sex attraction; gender dysphoria; how to make ethical decisions; and personal and interpersonal sexual ethics.

Q: Which chapter did you find most surprising in this compilation and why? 

As we were working on this text, the hashtag #MeToo went viral, followed by #ChurchToo. And while I imagine most people would say they concur with the Bible’s ethics relating to sexual abuse, again, the conversations we heard included a lot of unfortunate interactions full of misinformation. And we saw the need for ministry leaders and churches to do a much better job of creating environments where abuse is less likely to happen. So, while the chapter we added on rape and sexual abuse was not surprising in its content, its inclusion was an unexpected development. 

Q: What is the main message you want readers to take away from Sanctified Sexuality? 

Every human is a sexual being, having been given a sexed body by our Creator. Our good God’s guidance for how to live our embodied lives contributes to our thriving and that of others. We can know what he intends for our good and learn to communicate that good in a way that encourages others toward love and good deeds.  

Q: Is Sanctified Sexuality specifically for Christian leaders or do you also recommend the book to others? 

While Sanctified Sexuality is an academic work, we have sought to include a lot of helps to make the book accessible to a wide audience—from scholars to clergy to parents to counselors to teachers to speakers to discussion leaders to elder boards. At the end of each chapter we included questions for discussion and additional recommended resources for those wanting to explore further. 

Q: The tagline for your personal website, is “Thinking That Transforms.”  You advocate for thinking that transforms, especially in topics relating to gender and sexual intimacy in marriage—topics covered in your new book Sanctified Sexuality. Why is your heart especially drawn to these topics?

My husband and I experienced a decade of infertility and pregnancy loss that led us to engage in years of study about what Scripture says regarding God’s design for male and female. Must it include children? What are the implications for our identities as male and female? And what are the boundaries of human dominion as they relate to the human embryo? That experience set us on a journey of exploring the Scriptures and ethics as they relate to sexuality, marital intimacy, infertility and reproductive ethics, and where families without children fit into God’s good plan. Knowing and understanding what Scripture says on these and other foundational issues can transform us. Today I am committed to helping others explore some of these same transformative concepts.  

It's a big deal to get reviewed in PW. This will help us get into public libraries. You can read the review here: Publishers Weekly. 

The book is available now for pre-order.

DTS professors and grads who contributed in addition to Gary Barnes and me: Darrell Bock; Bob Chisholm; Joe Fantin; Hall Harris; Scott Horrell; Glenn Kreider; Abe Kuruvilla, Joy Skarka; Jay Smith; Dick Voet.

My Dad: Born 100 Years Ago Today

My dad was an extravert engineer with two bachelor’s degrees and a master’s; and he served as a branch chief in the Department of Transportation for the US government—first in Oregon and then in DC.

That’s an important backdrop for a big thing he taught me…

He would head straight for the dishwasher at church spaghetti dinners. Or on Easter at the pancake breakfast. Help count the money after church. Service. 

As a roads guy, he made sure that the little town in Oregon that kept him fed after his mom died (he was eight) got the bridge they badly needed but had zero representation at the federal level to hope for. 

In his 80s, he was still going to Haiti and Mexico and Thailand to help build water systems for impoverished communities, either on Christian missions or as part of Rotary.  

And well into his 90s, he was still taking his pick-up to fetch the day-old bakery items from the grocery story and deliver them to the food bank.

When I was a kid, he made breakfast every Sunday morning, feeding us five ankle-grabbers on homemade sourdough waffles with fresh blueberry syrup (he picked the blueberries, kept the starter going) so Mom could get ready unimpeded. He was always doing the dishes, the laundry, mixing the powdered milk (in those days, everyone in our family drank milk with every meal and they couldn’t afford to buy that many gallons of the fresh stuff for a family of seven). He planted a one-acre garden and worked it to keep us fed in fresh veggies. 

Serving.

These actions were not the natural outgrowth of an introverted personality. They were a conscious act that went against his natural outgoing bent. He saw them as his job, his responsibility, his work from God that others should not have to do. 

The day of his memorial service, when I went to pick up the programs that had his photo on the front, the guys running the print shop said, “Hey! I knew him. He was a pillar in the community. Always serving the community” One guy said, “He was my roommate in Thailand a few years ago.” 

Service without expecting thanks. Never thinking “that’s not my job” or “that work is too low for me.” 

He was an older father. (But I was blessed with his presence in my life well into my fifties.) His mother gave birth in 1920. I wonder what it must have been like for the grandmother I never knew to birth a child in the world of Ida B. Wells and Alice Paul. Ten days after her youngest was born, the US ratified the amendment giving women the right to vote.

Artemis of the Ephesians: A Conversation with Wayne Stiles

Our understanding of Artemis of the Ephesians at the time of the apostle Paul has, I believe, implications for how we read 1 and 2 Timothy. Recently I spoke with Wayne Stiles with Walking the Bible Lands about my research on this goddess and her influence, especially in the Province of Asia. You can watch our conversation in this video.

Right now I'm working on two books right now relating to the Ephesian Artemis and the ramifications for women and our understanding of first-century backgrounds—one a work of fiction and the other, an academic book.

My readers can get a free video series on Jesus's life from Walking the Bible Lands courtesy of Wayne.

Why Write?

Why Write?

Back before I’d ever published anything, I used to think about all the books in the Library of Congress or even just look at all the books on the market. And I'd think, “Do we really need another novel?” “Why yet another book on marriage,” or “Why would someone want to publish another Bible study on Sermon on the Mount?”

What I came to know years later was that each author has a unique perspective on his or her own era. It was said of the men from Issachar that they “understood the times and knew what Israel should do” (1 Chron. 12:32).

Each author also has a unique sphere of influence, which provides a platform through which some readers are more apt to hear from that author than from others—even if the others are more eloquent. So, there will always be a need for more books, new books, even on “old” topics. Richard Baxter wrote wonderful stuff about spiritual formation for Puritan audiences, and it stirs me when I read his words today. Yet, I still love reading about the same topics covered by Eugene Peterson, Calvin Miller, and Ruth Haley Barton. Not only have these people lived in my own time, but I have also had the honor of interviewing both men and, well—Ruth painted my toenails on my wedding day before slipping into her bridesmaid dress. 

My mentor, Dr. Elizabeth Inrig, now living in Redlands, California, is someone whose name I might never have heard had she not served our church in Dallas. Yet having sat under her teaching and seen the way she and her husband, Gary, live out their faith—and cared for me through some difficult days—I approach her written works with a particular openness to learn.

Because of this, every year I exhort my students to go ahead and write on topics that interest them or in the genres they love, even if someone else has already written something better. 

Several years ago, after hearing me talk about this, one of my students showed up the next week with a quote that I have since cherished. It’s from St. Augustine in his De Trinitate (On the Trinity), translated by Edmund Hill: 

Not everything … that is written by anybody comes into the hands of everybody, and it is possible that some who are in fact capable of understanding even what I write may not come across those more intelligible writings, while they do at least happen upon these of mine. That is why it is useful to have several books by several authors, even on the same subjects, differing in style though not in faith, so that the matter itself may reach as many as possible, some in this way others in that.

My advice, then, if you are at all inclined to write, is this: Do it. Don’t let that voice telling you someone else has “already done it better” hold you back. Perhaps that better-written book will never make it into the hands of one of your readers, and you will get to be the fortunate soul through whom someone’s life is forever changed.

Kids' Book Release Party: You're invited!

My friend Angela Henderson is releasing her second children's book this Friday. If you're at home with kids or grands, or even if you consider yourself a big kid, join the fun.

Receive a free printable coloring sheet based on characters in her new book when you sign up for Angela’s newsletter.

And JOIN Angela for the launch of Isaac & Izzy's Tree House, coming out May 15.  She's doing a Facebook Live Book Party at 2 PM Central that day. 

Please accept the invite and get  Free Tickets to the launch event on FaceBook Live.

When you RSVP, she'll place your name into a "Wheel of Names" for fun prizes: Krispy Kreme gift card, Chick-fil-a meals, author and illustrator donations, a copy of my book Earl Grey with Ephesians (a little incentive for the grown-ups), and more. She'll have 15 WINNERS on the 15th. 

So, get your ticket and at 2 PM Central this Friday, take yourself and/or the kids to Angela's author page on Facebook: @kidsbookfriends. 

COVID-19: A sign of the last days?

Image: 

“State Public Health Laboratory in Exton Tests for COVID-19”

 by Governor Tom Wolfe (CC BY)

The entire world is shut down in various forms. Never since Noah’s flood has the whole globe at one time endured the same catastrophe. So, publishers are seeing a spike in sales of books about the end times. And people are asking: Does COVID-19 signal the end is near?  

As it turns out, before all eyes turned to Wuhan, LifeWay Research already had questions in mind about the last days. So, they surveyed 1,000 people from two groups: evangelical pastors and historically Black denominational pastors. Between January 24 and February 11, 2020, Lifeway asked some questions about these pastors’ perceptions. And the results revealed that even before everyone’s least favorite pandemic, a lot of pastors in the USA felt that current events indicate Jesus’s return is imminent.

• 88 percent saw at least some current events matching those Jesus said would occur shortly before He returns

• 70 percent saw the modern rebirth of the state of Israel and the regathering of millions of Jewish people as fulfilling biblical prophecies

•  39 percent saw the establishment of the United States embassy in Jerusalem as a sign of the End Times 

My colleague, theologian Darrell Bock, said this in response: “When we look at pestilences and plagues and how they function in Scripture, what we see is that God doesn’t always use them with a specific signature to explain why He is doing it. Rather, He uses them as a reminder to us of our need for Him, our dependence upon Him, the fact that we are mortal and don’t control what is going on around us, that we need to pursue a relationship with Him and be aware of what He asks of us as human beings made in His image.” Bock added that he thinks if Lifeway were to redo the survey today, the numbers would be even higher. And a Youtube search supports his hunch. A video of pastor David Jeremiah talking about Covid-19 and the end times has garnered 1.8 million views. 

The Bible does not say specifically that in the last days we will have a global pandemic. It does, however, in 2 Timothy 3, list the following as being among the signs:

People will …

• Love their own selves. 

  • Might that include fighting for the right to keep our faces unmasked vs. showing deference in love?

  • Might that include fighting for the right to gather with more than “two or more” in His name when such actions are at the very least perceived to put others at risk? 

  • Be covetous.

    • Might that include hoarding rather than sharing toilet paper, meat, and cleaning supplies? 

    • Boast and be proud, be false accusers.

      • Might that include asserting we know more than all the experts? And/or posting and forwarding conspiracy theories, thereby adding to the slander of people at the center of them when we have no way to verify their guilt or innocence—and even if doing so makes people wonder if our belief in the resurrection is equally lacking in investigative rigor?  

      • Might that include slandering “the media,” as if all journalist are liars? 

      • Be unthankful.

        • Might that include “I know I have a full pantry and a job, but…” 

        • Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof. 

          • Might that include worship of a god in our own image whom we believe is always on America’s side? 

Events in our world are prompting people to reflect on their mortality. Surveys show it. Book sales show it. Youtube shows it. The trauma of COVID-19 is making many consider their lives in light of eternity. Yet many who name the name of Christ, rather than seeing in this pandemic the need to stay laser-focused on the gospel—reaching out across the world in word and deed—are sacrificing our credibility on less-important conversations, some of which call into question our commitment to love and/or sound thinking. If our insistence on our rights is louder than our commitment to self-sacrifice for the sake of love, maybe our beliefs are more rooted in the U.S. Constitution than in scripture.

Perhaps, based on what we find in 2 Timothy, we are indeed seeing indications that the end is near. But those indications don’t actually include the virus.  

Layer Your Literacy

This piece was first published at Fathommag.com.

My earliest memories include visions of my mother reading to me as I sat on her lap. Once I would memorize a story, she’d tease me as moms often do with their repetition-loving youngsters. She’d change one word and wait for me to object.  

When I grew a little bigger, Mom read to my little sister and me nightly from her chair next to our bunk beds. One of the books she read was Winnie-the-Pooh. I still have my original copy of A.A. Milne’s masterpiece. It’s in a state of disrepair, but I prefer it that way. Like the velveteen rabbit whose realness increased as his “skin” grew threadbare, the my Pooh book also grew more real with wear. And upon reaching adulthood, I smiled when I re-read the story, as I caught entirely new layers of meaning. White had written a book for children, but he tucked inside some rewards for the bigger readers too.

My father also contributed to our love for reading—I would often see him with his nose stuck in a National Geographic or American Heritage magazine. In fact, his literacy extended further than I realized, as I would find out later. Much later.

Whenever Dad faced the occasional toilet overflow, he would grab the plumber’s helper and dash into the bathroom calling out, “Double, double toilet trouble! Come a-runnin’ on the double!” I found his trochaic tetrameter clever, and I was also glad that the same man who tossed a wrench when the car gave him fits could so good-naturedly face what I considered a far less agreeable task. I had no clue that he was quoting—or rather, misquoting—anything. 

Nearly four decades later, however, when doing my Ph.D. work, I took a course in Shakespeare tragedies. One evening as I was reading along in MacBeth, I came upon something in Act IV, Scene I that shocked me. The witches bending over their brew were chanting, “Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and caldron bubble.” 

I burst out laughing.

For years, decades even, I had quoted my dad’s rhyme without realizing he had based it on some of the best-known literature in the English language. I had lacked the background to appreciate it. Yet that deficiency hadn’t kept me from enjoying it at an elementary level. Still, further knowledge added—greatly added—to my appreciation.

Lifelong Journey of Literacy

The road to literacy is paved with many such layers.

I had a similar experience with Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time. When I checked it out from the school library in the sixth grade, I knew little of the Bible. So when I read in L’Engle’s pages the concept that “perfect love casts out fear,” I thought she had coined a beautiful saying. Only when I read the same phrase in the New Testament several years later did it dawn on me that L’Engle had borrowed her profound concept straight from the elder John himself. Both revelations—the initial discovery of the idea and the later realization of its literary source—delighted me.

And the revelations keep happening.

In the early 1990s, one of my creative-writing professors assigned his graduate students to read Annie Dillard's Pulitzer-winning Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. Then we had us write something that mimicked her style. And, frankly, at the time I could hardly stand the book. I wanted Ms. Dillard to get on with something, anything, other than what I considered endless ramblings about nature. Still, the class’s results proved interesting, even if for some (myself included) Dillard’s work provided nothing more than an opportunity for parody.

Fast forward a few decades, and I’m a writing professor teaching the same class in the same institution. So, a few years back, I gave my students the same assignment. And I re-read Dillard to refresh my memory. I wanted to be able to catch my students’ allusions, sorting through what they borrowed and what they created.  

And to my utter surprise, I loved the book.

Whereas in the past I had read too little of Shakespeare, Thoreau, and Pliny to appreciate Dillard’s references to them, now I understood. And whereas in the past I had read too little history even to know what “anchoresses” were, this time when I found them in Dillard’s similes, I caught her meaning. I found myself glad to have yielded my youth to years of learning.

Whatever level of literary understanding we might have achieved, we are always becoming better readers. It’s a lifelong journey. We start out on the dirt path of plain understanding—“my father made up an amusing rhyme”; “L’Engle has a wonderful idea”; “Dillard writes only of nature.” Yet as we reread texts, we find that children are not the only ones who grow in literacy.  

And those of us who make our living using the word to communicate the Word—we of all people can and should aid our readers in their multi-layered literary journeys by ensuring that whatever we offer them is legible, readable, and accessible on many levels.

The Greatest Book Ever Written

It is also why we must read and reread the Bible. We benefit from the way different truths touch us at different times, depending on what God is emphasizing in our lives in the moment. And we equip ourselves to notice when authors are borrowing from its pages.

Consider what John Steinbeck did with Cain and Abel’s story retold as East of Eden. Or what Melville did with Moby-Dick and Jonah. One does not have to know the underlying story to appreciate the conflict between brothers or the joy of triumphing over a whale. But a thoroughgoing understanding of the Genesis story or of Jonah’s voyage adds to the reader’s appreciation of the author’s genius. Think, too, of how Dickens used the idea of substitutionary sacrifice in The Tale of Two Cities. Or how Lewis’s Narnia adventures retell the greatest story ever told.

The Bible itself is our example here, as it speaks to multiple audiences.

Consider that “in the beginning” we have a beautiful garden, but the man and woman choose to sin in a little matter about a tree. In the Gospels we find an innocent man hanging from a tree. And in Revelation we find humanity restored in the garden and invited to eat—you guessed it—from a tree. We can appreciate the wonderful ending in John’s apocalypse without knowing about the first two trees. Yet how much more meaningful the story is to the reader who has journeyed all the way from Eden to paradise restored.

We can read the book of Hebrews and catch the idea that Christ is supreme without knowing the story of Israel carrying around a tabernacle in the wilderness and what all the accessories symbolized. Yet Hebrews makes more sense, holds more meaning, as we grow and find layer upon layer of literary allusion. 

Think of Jesus on the cross crying, “My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?” The words and the angst behind them are clear enough. Yet consider the even more powerful punch they pack when the reader knows the Son of David is quoting his ancestor King David right out of his Hebrew Bible.

As people of the word—and as publishers, writers, and sellers of books—we depend on the communication of words for life, both temporal and eternal. And the path to aural and written literacy is a lifelong road with many layers from the dirt path to the highway. 

The best works, the books destined to be classics, the books our readers deserve, get better and better as we grow.

Meditations on COVID-19

Catherine of Siena has a particularly relevant story as our world faces what could be the Black Death of MMXX.

One hundred seventy years before the Protestant Reformation, the plague of the day swept through Siena, and by AD 1349, half the population was dead. Half. Fifty percent. Not one percent. Not two percent. Fifty. In some places even sixty percent. They didn’t have tests. So maybe somebody exaggerated. So let’s just round down to fifty.  

In the middle of this—the first of several such pandemics—Catherine was born. Her parents’ twenty-fourth child, Catherine lost a twin at birth. A younger sister after her died as well, making Catherine the youngest of a very large family. And from a young age, she was devoted to Christ.

When the plague came roaring back in 1374, it affected every last citizen. If they didn’t die themselves, they buried half or more of their loved ones. Catherine herself lost a brother, a sister, and eight nieces and nephews; she dressed some of those little bodies for burial. Read that again and let it sink in. 

We know, don’t we, what can happen to people who touch the corpses of plague victims? We know that when those in the helping professions risk their lives to aid those stricken with a wasting disease, many of them perish for their kindness. But they help anyway. And Catherine was such a helper. 

When the plague returned to Siena, Catherine was only twenty-seven years old. And while just about anyone who could flee for the safety of the countryside did so, she and those under her influence—men and women alike—stayed to care for Jesus Christ in the faces of the sick. And when people died, Catherine and her team prepared Jesus’s body for burial in the corpses of the dead. With all their hearts they believed our Lord’s words, “I was sick, and you took care of me” (Mt. 25:36).  

Catherine lived six more years—to the ripe old age of 33, when she is said to have died of a stroke. (The average life expectancy then was 30 to 35 years.) The pandemic never touched her. But it did touch many like her who risked their lives. 

I want to run from danger; her perfect love cast out fear. 

In Orvieto, a few hours southeast of Siena, every other year some students and I stay in a monastery from which we can take day trips to places like Catherine’s home. Orvieto is unique in that it sits on a mass of tufa rock through which Etruscans long before Christ dug passageways and caverns—thousands of them winding beneath the city. We have to take a tram to get up to the top of the mountain where the city is, and from the side of the cliff we can look out over the Umbrian countryside. 

When the plagues hit, people would quarantine themselves deep in the Sheol below us until the danger passed. In some parts of the city, people would dig out to the side of the cliff and make grottos where pigeons could roost—right above grills for roasting them. So the protein needed to sustain these temporarily cave-dwellers flew to them like airborne manna.  

I’m thinking a lot these days about times I’ve descended dark steps (photo above) to wander in the bowels of Orvieto’s passageways to caverns dug out beneath the very lodging where I have made it my home away from home. And it brings me comfort to know this: The church has been here before. More than once. And she has cried out to God, who bent his ear earthward and delivered her.    

*                      *                      *

This week two friends lost their jobs. One has a family to support; the other was just getting back on her feet, having relocated to take a job after a long season of seeking work. 

My heart aches for these who, for me, put a face on our spike in unemployment rates. Their circumstances remind me of the days when my husband and I got pink slips. In the forty years Gary and I have been married, we have had three job layoffs between us—one for me and two for him. 

I had worked in Human Resources and Communications for nine years at a financial services corporation—owned by landholders who held the deed to what we know today in its developed state as Las Colinas. My employer was the cash cow funding the high-rises going up. We had more money than sense. 

But then our company president helped negotiate a deal in which he got millions to retire early and go hunt big game while 700 of us got notified that we could move to Georgia or file for unemployment. I learned a lot about leadership and how not to shepherd from that experience. How I loved that job! And I loved my co-workers. The day I walked out in 1990 was the last time I ever saw most of them. 

Within two years, I had started my own freelance business and enrolled in seminary. In retrospect I can see that layoff as the best transition of my career. But two years is 730 days. That’s a lot of 24-hour periods of wondering how it will turn out. And some of those days and nights included failed adoptions. The transition to being home alone all day made that harder. 

One of my husband’s layoffs happened when the law firm for which he worked as an administrator decided to outsource his position along with those of all his employees. We had just drained our savings to pay off our car. And then the bottom fell out of the market. The year: 2008. 

I kept a journal during those days in which I listed God’s provisions. And I ran out of space to write. At times it was almost comical how our needs got met. Once I attended an event at which the planner asked me afterward, “Can I send you home with a couple of unopened Costco trays of deli meats, a cheese smorgasbord, and fresh fruits? I overestimated on the headcount and I need to get rid of all this stuff.”  We never missed a meal. 

I used to read Jesus’s promise, “Seek first the kingdom of God, and all these things [food, shelter] will be added to you.” And I’d wonder, “Can we really claim that as a promise? Don’t people who love God sometimes starve?” 

Now that my husband works doing a job he loves with African nationals, I see that promise through new eyes. Our friends in Kenya have less of an individualistic and much more of a communal mindset than do most of us in the West. And these friends remind me that part of seeking first the kingdom of God is loving the people God loves—cherishing the bride of Christ, even when she wears a dirty dress. And if I’m seeking God first by feeding him when he is “hunger in the stomach of an African friend,” those friends will take care of me when the hunger gnaws at my own belly. 

I heard a Manhattan pastor tell of how his wealthier members cared for the poorer among them, expecting nothing in return. But when the bottom dropped out of the market in ’08, those poorer members made sure none of their formerly rich friends went hungry. Seek ye first….

Last week the National Association of Evangelicals reported that since the big lockdown, more than six out of ten churches have seen offerings decline. Those of us who still have jobs need to look at our charitable giving. Our churches need us. Our schools that receive no government funding need us. Our ministry organizations need us. Our humanitarian service providers need us. Our friends without jobs need us. We can’t do it all. But we can do something.  

And not only do people need our money, they need our time. I’ve loved seeing how many of my friends and acquaintances have taken to sewing masks. A friend in New York City is doing so and donating profits to A Hope for New York and her church’s deacon’s fund, which assists people in her congregation experiencing financial hardship. 

How can we give of our time and talents? To whom much is given, much is required.  

*                      *                      *

I was reading in Acts 8 last week. And it struck me anew how persecution scattered the disciples. As a result of a government crackdown, the gospel spread. And since Paul could not see his friends face to face, he had to resort to writing letters…some of which millions, self included, still read.

One of our friends researched the phenomenal growth of the church in Cuba under Communism. And he told us that part of why the ekklesia has grown so fast there is precisely due to the mandate to keep gatherings small. Much of the Cuban church has met in homes. And when a group has outgrown its space in a house, they have had to practice cell division. 

As it turns out, staying small has worked like gasoline on the Spirit’s flame. Every person is known. Cared for. Missed if absent. Needed. Funds have been spent on people and needs more than buildings. And no one face represents Christians, which has made the Bride harder to identify and stop. 

How many people do we need to form a church? Jesus set the minimum at two: “For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them” (Matt 18:20). 

Our government is asking us to limit our gatherings, and not because of what we profess. But in order to do something that is integral to our mission—to show love for others. Our society right now interprets refraining from large gatherings as an act of love. Yet some among us insist we must fight for their rights. (Ironically, among them are some of the very people who have told women “you may feel mistreated, but spiritual maturity is not about rights.” They are also some of the same people who have quoted Romans 13 and insisted that “God puts governments in place” whenever fellow believers have questioned the character or actions of our president.) Some words of James come to mind about double-minded people….  

No one has told the church we must stop meeting because of what we believe. Being told to limit our gatherings is not persecution. Our vice president has asked us to cap our gatherings at ten people, which is five times the minimum Jesus set. Surely, we can do this. We must. Otherwise—what in the name of holy love are we thinking? Christian love, witness, and testimony always trump our civil rights. Paul waited till the Philippians beat him up to pull his citizenship card. Why? Because he was a citizen of a kingdom that is not of this world.    

*                      *                      *

Speaking of Paul, I’ve been thinking lately about him relating to the subject of goodbyes. 

 This apostle to the Gentiles moved around the Roman Empire a lot, systematically preaching the gospel. But eventually he settled in Ephesus. Under Roman rule, Ephesus was a strategic commercial center, surpassed in importance only by Rome and Alexandria. The population of Ephesus was at least half a million people. And it was known for its ports. From its harbors Pompey released his soldiers, and Cleopatra and Mark Antony gathered their ships before their ill-fated battle at Actium. 

Paul lived and ministered in Ephesus for three and a half years. But his time there was drawing to an end. So he sent Timothy on ahead to Macedonia, and Paul was making plans to follow soon when a disturbance happened relating to Artemis of the Ephesians—whose temple was the most awe-inspiring of the Seven Wonders of the World. The author of Acts records that Paul was known for saying that gods made with hands are not real gods, and that went over badly with the silversmiths selling goddess souvenirs. 

When the uproar ended, Paul knew he needed to leave fast. So “he sent for the disciples and, after encouraging them, said goodbye and set out for Macedonia” (Acts 20:1).   

Eventually, when he was sailing back toward Asia on his way to Jerusalem for Pentecost, he knew he lacked time to go all the way to Ephesus. So he sent word to the elders of the Ephesian church to meet him on the beach at Miletus. That meant about a fifty-mile walk for them. But they did it. And there he delivered a moving commencement speech. (You can read it in Acts 20:18–35).

Can you imagine the agony, both for him and them? No photos to carry in his wallet or phone. No FaceBook. No U.S. Postal Service. This was goodbye for good—this side of eternity. Luke records that “when Paul had finished speaking, he knelt down with all of them and prayed. They all wept as they embraced him and kissed him. What grieved them most was his statement that they would never see his face again. Then they accompanied him to the ship.” 

My favorite day of the academic year is commencement. The seminary where I work has rigorous requirements. And it’s not inexpensive to attend. Some move to Dallas from overseas, like our friend Emmanuel—“Emmie”—from Kenya. Some leave spouses and endure the separation for years so they can pursue the pearl of great price. The sacrifices our students make… The toil and sweat they put in….  Graduation is their big celebration to mark new beginnings—and to thank those who supported them in every way. For our doctoral candidates, graduation is an especially big deal, as it marks the day they receive their terminal degree after cumulative decades of study. 

Graduation offers the opportunity for a last message, a last photo, a last hug before people—often whom we have known and loved for about three and a half years—scatter to the ends of the earth. We know some are going into places where they may have to lay down their lives. Once a student from the Middle East said, “You Americans say ‘God has a wonderful plan for your life,’ but where I come from, we say ‘Jesus is worth dying for.’” 

I learned that, this year for the first time, we cannot hold the Friday night barbecue-under-the-tent, the laying on of hands to commission our grads in one final chapel service, the in-the-flesh pomp and circumstance with full regalia at which we sing one last at-the-top-of-our-lungs “All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name”—diadem version. We’ll have none of this for Dani and Ethel and Joy and Hayley and Luke and Ellen and Bianca and Marlene and Christian and Emmie and Steve and Kim from Australia…and so many more names… I confess—I cried. But not nearly as much as some of them did. So many people are living with such disappointment right now. 

Recently, I posted this message on FaceBook: “To all the parents breaking it to your kids that they won’t get to return to school, I’m sorry. To all the grads and family and friends and profs/teachers who don’t get to celebrate them at ceremonies and parties, I’m sorry. To all the people who have lost work, I’m sorry. Or working under disrupted conditions… To all the people who don’t get to see their loved ones, I’m sorry. To those who don’t get to properly mourn their dead, I’m sorry. To those working crazy hours …concerned for their lives… Wedding plans wrecked…And on and on. So many losses. Having hope does not mean we live in denial of all the losses.” Within 24 hours, I received more than 200 responses. 

I think the words struck a chord because goodbyes matter. Marking a big occasion with loved ones is an important part of our humanity. Paul considered saying a proper goodbye, complete with a commencement address tailored to his beloved friends’ needs, as important enough to compel those friends to make a one-hundred-mile round-trip walk. 

Paul was great at writing letters. But sometimes marking an occasion with hugs, tears, a message delivered in person, and in-the-flesh time with loved ones is worth making a huge effort over. Or burying our head in our hands and crying when it can’t happen. 

And All Flesh Shall See It Together

Luca Signorelli, Orvieto Cathedral. "Resurrection of the Flesh." 1500.

Signorelli’s son died in the plague; one of these faces is his, an expression of his father’s hope.

Dad.

Arlington Cemetery. Easter Morn.

Hundreds. No, thousands, of tombstones.

The carillon rang out as we sang together

"Christ the Lord is ris’n today! Allelujia!"

First of the harvest.

More to follow.

Someday me.

Flesh replaces metal bar in my shoulder. Scars on hips and forehead morphed to pink skin. Or maybe celebrated as meals delivered, prayers offered, reminders that community hugged, brought casseroles, showed up.

Reunion with my body 2.0.

Naked I came. So did he.

Naked he returned. So will I.

Naked he will rise. I will too. Because...

Incarnation.

Resurrection.

Ascension.

All embodied.

Raised to new life. This time literally.

The communion of the saints and the holy catholic church

United in glory-flesh

In the new city.

Wall-less. Fortress-less. Police-less. Prison-less.

The redeemed finally seeing "earth and heav'n be one." On earth as it is in heaven,

Bouncing on toes when the trumpet sounds,

The carillon of heaven ringing.

Earth's cemeteries empty their contents.

And Dad and I, in new bodies, join our voices to sing of the risen Christ

Once again.