"Ask an Egalitarian. . ."

Should be a lot of fun. I was just interviewed by Mimi and others at CBE. Very cool to see this. ;)

In preparation for next week’s series, One in Christ: A Week of Mutuality, we have a special addition to our interview series—Dr. Mimi Haddad, who has agreed to be our guest for “Ask an egalitarian.”
 
 (Note: The juxtaposition of this interview and “Ask a feminist...” earlier this week is purely coincidental...though kinda fun. It will be interesting to note similarities/differences in your questions and their responses.)

Mimi is president of Christians for Biblical Equality, a nonprofit organization of Christian men and women “who believe that the Bible, properly interpreted, teaches the fundamental equality of men and women of all ethnic groups, all economic classes, and all age groups.” She is a graduate of the University of Colorado and Gordon Conwell Theological Seminary, and holds a Ph.D. in historical theology from the University of Durham, England.

Mimi is part of the leadership of Evangelicals for Justice, a founding member of the Evangelicals and Gender Study Group at the Evangelical Theological Society, and she served as the convener of the Issue Group 24 for the 2004 Lausanne III Committee for World Evangelization. She has written more than one hundred articles and blogs and has contributed to nine books, most recently Living Faith: The Fragrance of Christ, published by the Evangelical Fellowship of India and the Evangelical Fellowship of India Commission on Relief.   She is also an editor and a contributing author of Global Voices on Biblical Equality: Women and Men Serving Together in the Church.

In addition to all of this, Mimi serves as an adjunct assistant professor at Bethel University and an adjunct professor at North Park Theological Seminary, Chicago, Illinois. She and her husband, Dale, live in the Twin Cities.

You know the drill: If you have a question for Mimi, leave it in the comment section.

For the original article, and to ask a question of Mimi, HERE.


--Nick

Ask a Seventh-Day Adventist. . . (with brief thoughts on hell)

Rachel Held Evans interviewed a Seventh-Day Adventist named David Newman. He offers some brief thoughts on hell, where he (obviously) adopts an annihilationist perspective.

From Aubree: Can you explain "soul sleep," and the Seventh Day Adventist position on hell? 

When God created the first man, Adam, “the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul” (Genesis 2:7). We believe the breath of God and the body make a living being.  Without the life-giving breath of God, there is no life in the body.  The concept of an immortal soul came from Greek influence and not from the Bible. 

Very briefly, we believe that when a person dies, they sleep in the grave until the resurrection.  Sleep for death is a common metaphor in the New Testament.  When Jesus comes back the second time,  he raises to eternal life all who died trusting in Him. The Bible says that God is the only one who is immortal (1 Timothy 1:17).  There is no text that says that the soul is immortal. 

We believe in a hell as described in the book of Revelation that burns up Satan and all the wicked and cleanses this earth.  The results of the burning are everlasting.  We do not believe that for all eternity there is a portion of God’s universe where people are suffering forever and ever.  To pronounce an infinite torture for finite crimes is out of all proportion to the crimes. While God is merciful, he is also just. And He is also love.  As Rob Bell has so graphically illustrated in his book on hell, the love of God does not fit with a retributive God for all eternity.

I believe annihilationism is a strong position, and think Newman offers a brief but decent case. Some may disagree on his application and I would've liked a stronger exegetical argument but such as it is.

For the rest of the interview, which is great, check it out HERE.

--Nick

Ask a Pentecostal. . .

I'm a fan of Pastor Martin's blog and sermons, so this was quite a nice little surprise. Much thanks to Rachel for this series.

As expected, our friend Jonathan Martin responded to your questions for “Ask a Pentecostal” with incredible wisdom, grace, and insight. This is definitely one of the best installments of our interview series yet! 

Jonathan is third-generation Pentecostal preacher and the founder of Renovatus: A Church for People Under Renovationin Charlotte, North Carolina and Fort Mill, South Carolina. Jonathan sees himself as a bridge figure  between seemingly conflicting Christian traditions, both the product of southern campmeeting services and Duke University.  As a 33-year old pastor, he embodies the concerns of a younger generation of leaders. But as a product of a parsonage himself, he often jokes that church life has “aged him in dog years,” giving him a deep respect and appreciation for the Church’s history and tradition.  

Jonathan lives in Charlotte with his wife of 12 years, Amanda, and a 10-pound shih tzu named Cybil. He is the author of the forthcoming book Prototype from Tyndale House. Be sure to check out his blog here.  

Enjoy!

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From Rhea: Do you use the terms Pentecostal and charismatic interchangeably? Why or why not? In a nutshell, what do you think it means to be a Pentecostal?

Rather than a lengthy description of phenomena associated with Pentecostalism, first and foremost, I would say this: to be Pentecostal is to be a Christ-like witness empowered by the Spirit.  This always has to be the baseline.  If being Pentecostal is primarily about believing in a handful of supernatural gifts or experiences, those gifts and experiences will be detached from a larger understanding of Christian mission and thus distorted.  

Pentecostals are not fundamentalists who speak in tongues.  Pentecostal spirituality is a distinct way of being in the world with God, a distinct understanding of the kingdom of God.  Pentecostals are people with an apocalyptic sense of urgency, because they believe the Holy Spirit is empowering the Church in dynamic ways in preparation for the return of Christ.  But we are not just a people anticipating the consummation of the kingdom, we are participating in the kingdom already being established on the earth.  This apocalyptic expectation is hardly a pie-in-the-sky, detached, other-worldly escapism.  Pentecost is about the Spirit falling to the earth to particular people in particular places—and where the Spirit touches ground, the kingdom does too.  

It’s not surprising that when Pentecostal power is at work in communities, it brings disruption, for this is the future reign of God breaking into the present.  There is no racial division because that’s not the way of God’s future.  There are no gender barriers because male and female, slave and free only made sense before the terror of Pentecost disrupted everything.  Now sons and daughters alike prophesy, whomever the Spirit chooses to use.  It’s not surprising that Pentecostal communities have brought justice to the poor and oppressed—that’s the future breaking into the present.  Neither is it surprising that there are accounts of divine healing—as it was in the early church, this is only a foretaste of the wholeness that is coming when creation is restored.  Neither is it surprising that there is speaking in tongues, because this is eschatological speech—this is future talk.  In the account of the tower of Babel, language divided the human race.  No wonder, then, that Pentecostals needed new language—it’s a marker of a future where one language of adoration covers the earth.  

People aren’t Pentecostal just because they speak in tongues, they are Pentecostal because the trajectory of their entire lives has been re-oriented by the power of the Spirit.  As Steven J. Land contends in his landmark Pentecostal Spirituality: A Passion for the Kingdom, “There may be Pentecostal-like experiences, but Pentecostal spirituality is another matter.”
So you can see how Pentecostal spirituality is not garden variety evangelicalism with spiritual gifts clumsily added in an eccliesial game of pin-the-tail-on-the- donkey.  It’s a whole way of life, a whole perspective on being the church in the world, a whole vision of being human.  It’s unsurprising that early Pentecostals were marginalized within the broader church when the future started crashing into their present.  As it was on Mt. Sinai and as it was on the day of Pentecost, the presence of God is cataclysmic, violent and disruptive.  In the Pentecostal revivals of the early 1900s (most notably at Azuza Street), people of different ethnicities were worshipping together, women were preaching, poor and marginalized people were being empowered.  On the day of Pentecost, the outpouring of the Spirit was first marked by “violent rushing wind.”  Once again, the disruption of Pentecost was sweeping the Church.  

I’m aware that sounds idealistic.  Naturally, wherever there is an authentic move of God, there will be people who “confuse the spectacular for the wonderful.”  There will be carnality and confusion and conflict.  We can’t expect a contemporary move of God to be any more tidy than it was for the early Church.  There were church conflicts in the book of Acts; there were abuses of spiritual gifts at the church of Corinth.  But none of that mitigates the fact that Pentecostals bear witness to something very real and very powerful that has happened to them, even while the implications of this newfound power has to be worked out in broken human vessels.  

While Pentecostals and Charismatics are naturally lumped together because of their similarities, the terms are not interchangeable.  Classical Pentecostals trace their origins back to revivals of the early 1900’s (from Azuza Street to rural North Carolina and Tennessee).  The Assemblies of God, Church of God, Church of God in Christ, Foursquare, and Pentecostal Holiness bodies are all classical Pentecostal denominations.  The Charismatic movement was a spiritual renewal that took place within existing Christian communities, from Catholics to mainline Protestants.  Beginning largely in the 1960’s, people from diverse corners of Christian tradition began to experience New Testament signs and wonders like healing and prophesy and speaking in tongues—and even the expressive nature of Pentecostal worship within established institutional churches.  Today, the term Charismatic is sometimes used more broadly to identify Christians who testify to the Pentecostal experience but are simply not part of one of the classical Pentecostal denominations.  

I think Pentecostals should understand the unique contours of their tradition and embrace the distinctions that go along with it.  But I don’t believe the Holy Spirit is given merely to validate or set apart one particular part of the Church over and against another—there is a very real way that the entire church is Pentecostal.  The outpouring on the day of Pentecost is the birthday of the whole Church; the power of the Spirit is the birthright of the whole Church.  The culture of Pentecostal churches may be unique, but the substance of Pentecostal spirituality—wherein the lame are healed, and sons and daughters prophesy, and peace and justice come to the marginalized—is not for a sect.  Those aren’t the marks of a denomination; those are the marks of the kingdom, and they are available to all who call Jesus Lord.

From Trisha:  I read your recent post, "The Pentecostal Elephant in the Middle of the Room." I thought it was interesting when you said that you see the Pentecostal movement as no more Protestant than it is Catholic. I guess I've always seen Pentecostalism as a charismatic form of evangelicalism. Can you explain what makes it unique/separate from Protestantism?  

The Protestant tradition as a whole, in reaction to perceived abuses, downplayed virtually all mystical aspects of the Christian life—there was little if any room for miracles/supernatural gifts of the Spirit.  The Pentecostal movement has a prominent place for mystical experiences in the life of the Church.  As Land notes, Protestants have historically emphasized salvation as forensic, legal justification, whereas Pentecostals, in line with their Wesleyan roots, have emphasized sanctification/transformation.  

The role of Scripture and the relationship of Spirit to Scripture is also very different in Pentecostal tradition.  I don’t think you could have a higher view of Scripture than what you find among Pentecostals, where the Bible is understood (in the words of my friend Dr. Cheryl Johns) not as an encyclopedia or fact book but the mystical, supernatural Word of God.  But it’s a long way from Sola Scriptura.  There is no way within Pentecostal tradition to even make sense of a phrase like “Scripture alone.”  For Pentecostals, Scripture has no power detached from a dynamic, lively, interactive relationship with the Spirit who breathed upon it. 

In many ways, the Pentecostal movement (and the Wesleyan tradition that underwrites it) has more similarities to the Eastern church rather than the Western church in its Protestant or Catholic forms.  As it is in the Eastern Christian tradition, there is a greater emphasis on the role of the Spirit from the ground floor of Pentecostal theology, whereas in Western traditions, pneumatology (theology of the Spirit) can be a bit of an afterthought.  Pentecostals also are more Eastern than Western in that, as it was for John Wesley, there is an emphasis on sin as a sickness that needs to be healed, as opposed to just a legal problem to be dealt with in judicial terms.  

From Eric: Many people associate Pentecostalism with some (shall we say) excessive but very visible aspects the movement, e.g. people barking like dogs "in the spirit," faith-healing charlatans, snake-handlers, and televangelists of dubious repute. How do you deal with this stereotyping, especially for people who might have concerns about your church or assume that everything to do with Pentecostalism is like that?

That’s an interesting question, especially since both of our current worship experiences take place in spaces that have a bit of local infamy.  Our Little Rock Road location historically had one of the worst examples for our city of Pentecostal ministry imaginable, and our Fort Mill services are in The Broadcast Group, which is still known to many in our region as the former Jim and Tammy Bakker studio!  But while we deal with Pentecostal stereotypes some at Renovatus, it’s honestly pretty minimal.  That’s probably because, even though we are very comfortable with our Pentecostal identity as a congregation, we don’t wear it (or our denominational badge) on our lapels.  

I think our church is deeply Pentecostal in practice, but doesn’t have a lot of the cultural markers that people associate with Southern Pentecostalism.  When we call people down to receive prayer for healing or to be anointed with oil, for example, we are very low key about it.  We don’t get overly demonstrative in those settings.  Our worship is appropriately emotional and expressive, but never out of control.  I don’t think there is anything wrong with being demonstrative and have a deep love and respect for some of my wilder brethren, but it’s really important to me that people can have deep, experiential encounters of the presence of God without being alienated by some of the cultural baggage we have in the South.  Our church recites the apostles creed and/or the Lord’s prayer every Sunday morning and does frequent communion, which is far more likely to be suspect to people who share my classical Pentecostal background!  

From Shane: Pentecostals have a reputation for being anti-intellectual. What role does the life of the mind play in Pentecostal spirituality? What could Christians who primarily approach their faith cerebrally learn from Christians who approach faith more experientially?

Given our characteristic concerns that faith is always grounded in experiential reality, there is an understandable anti-intellectual bent in some Pentecostal communities—especially toward those of us who have been to “cemeteries” (I mean, seminaries!)  I think some of that suspicion has been well-founded, insofar that Pentecostalism began as a movement from the margins, from outside the walls of the academy and institutional religion.  The Pentecostal movement has, in fact, been a critique against the idea that authority and power is derived merely from ecclesial titles or academic degrees, and I think that’s necessary. 

That said, I don’t think there is anything implicit in Pentecostal tradition that necessitates anti-intellectualism per se.  I do think that some of those sentiments probably correspond to Pentecostals becoming cozier with their fundamentalist counterparts after the early years of the movement (ironic, since Pentecostals experienced the most rejection from fundamentalists).  At any rate, as more and more Pentecostals have done formal theological training, those attitudes have changed substantially.  

I don’t see any reason for tension between head and heart in Pentecostal spirituality, and every reason why life in the Spirit should be radically integrated.  In her great book Pentecostal Formation: A Pedagogy Among the Oppressed, Dr. Cheryl Johns uses the Hebrew word yada as the basis for the Pentecostal understanding of “knowing” God.  Yada is a “knowing more by the heart than by the mind, a knowing that arises not by standing back from in order to look at, but by active and intentional engagement in lived experience.”  Significantly, yada was used as a euphemism for love making and the past participle of yadaused for a good friend or confidant.  This is not just a Pentecostal understanding of what it is to know God, but a biblical one.  It is not truly possible to love God without loving Him with “all your mind” and “all your heart.”  

At Renovatus, we have a document we really live by called the Renovatus manifesto.  It doesn’t replace the apostles’ creed as a doctrinal statement (which we confess every week), but it is very much what we believe is particular to our call as a community.  One of those statements is “We will practice the liturgy and the primal shout: We will incite worship that engages both intellect and emotion, believing that the head and heart are to be integrated and not divorced.”  I think embracing diverse aspects of liturgy and the shout ensures that both head and heart are nurtured.  

We have another statement that says: “We will reach out without dumbing down (I borrowed that phrase brazenly from Marva Dawn): We will challenge you to think hard about God, Church and culture.  We will not treat you like a consumer, but as a co-conspirator in the re-imagining of the world.”  I once saw a bumper-sticker that said “If you won’t pray at my school, I won’t think at your church.”  In our Pentecostal church, you won’t last long if you aren’t willing to think, because we take the business of being the church very seriously—and that requires deep, sustained reflection.  Caesars and empires do everything than can to keep people from thinking, and in our culture I see challenging people to think deeply about their faith to be an act of resistance. At Renovatus, we attempt to model an integration of head and heart, belief and action.  

From James:  I know Pentecostals who are dogmatic about God speaking to them.  The thing is, God appears to tell different people different things, so I wonder if God actually is speaking to them.  What are your thoughts on God speaking to people?  How can one avoid abuses that come from that claim?

Here’s the truthful answer: on one hand, the idea that God speaks dynamically through Christian community has been the thing that I’ve most cherished about my Pentecostal tradition.  Some of the most powerful, life-altering moments of my life have come through the gift of brothers and sisters speaking to me on God’s behalf.  The idea that anyone in the Church can be a vessel for divine speech is especially beautiful to me.  

It is also extremely dangerous.  And alternately, some of my worst experiences within Pentecostal tradition have been through people running amuck giving out “words.”  We have had to step into situations pastorally on a couple of occasions where we felt like individuals within our community gave words that were manipulative or misleading.  I have had a number of personal “prophecies” delivered over me that could have been faith shattering.  My wife and I have been married for over 12 years without children (another story for another time).  I have literally lost count of the people who have spoken over us that we would have a baby within some kind of a specific time frame.  That’s a sore spot for me. 

But here is what it comes down to: you cannot create space for the real without creating space for the immature and even the fake.  I think it’s fascinating that in the context of lengthy instructions on how to ensure that tongues and interpretations operate in an orderly way in I Corinthians 12-14, Paul comes back around to say “Forbid not to speak in tongues.”  Because the most natural response to abuse of a gift is not to use the gift at all.  And for as deeply Pentecostal as I am, as a pastor now I completely understand this instinct.  There are moments in the heat of that kind of pastoral correction where you would just as soon (where I would just as soon!) shut the whole enterprise down.  But ultimately, you have to ask yourself the question: is it worth shutting down the authentic voice of God in an attempt to root out the fake?  I think the risks of that are far greater.  

So like many Pentecostals, I do share a strong belief that we can hear God speak to us.  But I also believe there are some necessary safeguards.  We have an elder couple in our church, Jim and Mims Driscoll, who teach a class for us on “Receiving and Giving Revelation.”  They have had a lot of experience counseling/training/rehabilitating misguided “prophetic” people.  One of the things I love most about their approach is that they stress, over and over again, that the primary function of speaking God’s heart in Christian community is to share His love.  While it is possible that a corrective or instructive word could be given, this will not usually be the case.  Usually, when God speaks to His bride, He speaks with tenderness.  Prophecy or words of knowledge in the Church should be a direct extension of the love of God.  The Driscolls counsel people that words should not generally be given in private—but normally with 2 or 3 others present so there is some accountability.  This simple practice circumvents a world of problems.  

For my part, I have become quite suspicious of the kind of “word” where somebody gives instruction to go and sell your house or get a different job or go on the mission field or make some radical life change.  If such a word confirmed something an individual already sensed God saying to them, that would be one thing.  But I am not likely to change course completely on something just because of an alleged prophetic utterance.  I’ve seen that go wrong too many times.  Because I do believe so strongly that each of us has the capacity to hear and discern the voice of God, I just don’t think that much weight is typically going to land entirely on another person.  

From Marty: A friend of mine grew up in a Pentecostal church and told me the story of the pressure to speak in tongues. Apparently in that church he couldn't be fully accepted until he had the Spirit and was able to demonstrate that verbally. So as a kid, he would go home and practice when no one was listening. He was successful at some point and everyone was happy. Now as an adult and part of a different tradition, he still has that skill and is quite convincing, but it is a skill he developed an not something else. My guess is that my friend's childhood impression is not quite where the tradition is at. So what does it mean to "speak in tongues"?

I sighed when I read this, as stories like these are still painful for me to hear (even though I know plenty of them).  The doctrine of Spirit baptism with accompanying speaking in tongues has been the lynch pin of the Pentecostal movement, and I never want to minimize that.  But all too often, tongues are treated as some sort of merit badge, and that is unfortunate.  I think many people who sincerely want to operate within that gift are unable to, precisely because too much pressure is put on the experience.  Instead of “you may kiss the bride,” it can feel like a chore or something to check off on some sort of list.  As Jack Hayford stated so well years ago, there is a fundamental beauty to spiritual language that is often lost when people put too much pressure and/or hype around the experience.  

Like most Pentecostals, I believe that speaking in tongues is first and foremost a prayer language, a language of adoration and worship and intercession, between us and God.  In the context of public worship, a tongue that is given in the assembly (not in a corporate time of prayer or worship) should be interpreted by someone with that gift for the edification of the church.  If there is no interpreter, Paul says the person should “speak quietly to God.”  While I strongly believe in the interpretation of tongues, and even in the capacity of someone to speak in a foreign natural tongue they have not been taught (a la Acts 2), that experience is far less common than that of tongues as a prayer language.  

From Sara: Many experiences I have had with members of Pentecostal churches and their leadership believe and teach that the Catholic church (and other liturgical Protestant denominations) are not Christian churches. What is your view?  If you agree, where are you getting your information from?  If you disagree, how are you challenging this stereotype?

I absolutely consider Catholic and mainline Protestant churches to be Christian churches.  As I mentioned earlier, at Renovatus we recite the Apostles’ Creed weekly, so it is ever before us that we are part of “the holy catholic church.”  (Though I end up having to explain in the South frequently that we mean “one universal Church comprised of all who call Jesus Lord,” which of course includes Catholics but does not refer to the Roman Catholic Church explicitly.)  

Now to be truthful, in the churches  where I grew up, traveling prophecy preachers and teachers taught us that the Catholic church was the whore of Babylon and that the Pope would be the antichrist!  As I got older, I rejected not only that notion but the entire dispensational eschatology on which those ideas are based (I will save my rant for later on why dispensational in any form should have no place in Pentecostal churches).

In terms of challenging the stereotype, I can tell you that my primary focus with my ThM at Duke was in Catholic Moral Theology.  I published a piece in the Journal of Pentecostal Theology a few years ago called “Spirit, Apocalypse and Ethics: Reading Catholic Moral Theology as a Pentecostal.”  I don’t know exactly where this fits in with my current day job and writing obligations, but I would love to do a PhD at some point that articulates a constructive Pentecostal approach to ethics in dialogue with Catholic moral theology, as I think there are significant connections.  While Pentecostals have significant differences from Catholicism, we do have our own quirky catholicity mediated through our Wesleyan roots.  While John Wesley was not Catholic, the Methodist/holiness movement that later gave rise to Pentecostalism certainly had tendencies more in line with Catholicism than the magisterial reformers, and I’d like to explore those further.  

From Charity: I went to a pentecostal church as a teenager and two things I noticed was that prophesy and casting out demons were big to-do's. I was always afraid of having a demon, and afraid someone was going to prophesy something bad about me. Now, I realize not all pentecostal churches are the same, just as no two churches are the same, but I wonder what you believe is appropriate for keeping order within the church. I understand the importance of letting the Holy Spirit work, but when does this become a dangerous thing that could allow people not really under the influence of the spirit to hurt and manipulate others?

Anything that is powerful is dangerous, and power that legitimately comes from God is especially volatile.  Both testaments are full of examples of people who have legitimate gifts but misuse the power.  Combustible things are always going to happen when you mix genuine spiritual authority with broken human vessels, so structure and order are absolutely critical.  As I referenced earlier, we have a number of safeguards for these practices at our church.  

I do believe that there is a force of evil in the world that is greater than the sum of its parts, and that in the normal course of life in the kingdom, real resistance will be encountered.  So I do believe there are times and places where demonic influences must be confronted.  But I am also highly suspicious at this point of the over preoccupation with spiritual warfare that has become common in many Pentecostal/Charismatic churches.  I find a lot of the “demon-busters” rhetoric to be overblown and in some cases destructive.  On a pastoral level, I’ve had to deal with individuals within our community who have kind of jumped the shark with all of that.  I like to remind people that, first and foremost, submission to God IS resistance to the evil one.  Most of the time that will be enough.  

I also lived in dread that certain evangelists would “call me out”—um, especially when I was going through puberty!  At this point in my life, I am so convinced of the tenderness of the Father’s heart that in those times when a public “word” is given from a person who understands the function of these gifts in the body of Christ, edification will be the aim.

From Matthew: Thanks for coming Jonathan!  Let's assume that I was to come to your church with no knowledge of Pentecostal church tradition.  I know I want to follow Christ, and I have heard great things about your church--what books do you recommend I read?  What passage of Scripture do you recommend I dwell on?  What conversation do you give to introduce me to Pentecostal faith?

I know I referenced it already, but Steven J. Land’s Pentecostal Spirituality: A Passion for the Kingdomreally is the definitive work for me on the nature and character of Pentecostalism, and certainly the resource that has most shaped me.  The more recent Signs and Wonders: Why Pentecostalism is the World’s Fastest Growing Faith by Paul Alexander is a more accessible introduction.  Rather that recommending particular “Pentecostal texts,” I would suggest a close reading of the Book of Acts on the whole.  Acts frames the work of the Spirit in the broader context of Christian mission in precisely the same way Pentecostals do today.  Thus there is not a sense of Pentecostal experiences as isolated or disconnected events, but deeply connected to the broader story of the kingdom of God advancing in the world.  

From James:  I'd like for you to interact with the issue of healing.  If God heals today, why are there so many people who are sick?  Do you believe it's due to lack of faith?

There is no way I can do justice to this issue here, but this is my short take: as it was in the ministry of the incarnate Son of God, healing serves as a sign of the wholeness yet to come when “the knowledge of the glory of the Lord covers the earth as the waters cover the sea.” Sickness and disease is a reality of a fallen world, but never part of God’s intention for the creation.  

I do not by any means think that people are generally not healed because of a lack of faith.  I see the “word of faith” notion in some Charismatic circles (that all who have adequate faith will be healed and all who are not healed have inadequate faith) to be a destructive caricature of the doctrine of divine healing.  In these systems, God is no longer the object of faith—faith is the object of faith.  That’s a disastrous move.  

I have seen many people healed, I have seen many people pray and fast and seek God and not be healed.  Ultimately, the question of why some are healed and others are not is beyond my pay grade. There is great mystery to this, and I cannot attempt to resolve the tension prematurely.

For Jonathan's blog

Ask a Pentecostal

--Nick

"Ask a Gay Christian. . ."

Rachel Held Evans interviewed Justin Lee, director of the Gay Christian Network. Its a very respectful dialogue with some hard questions and answers. Below:

Last week I introduced you to Justin Lee, the director of The Gay Christian Network (GCN), a nonprofit organization serving lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender Christians and those who love them. Justin is also the director of "Through My Eyes," a documentary about young gay Christians, and the co-host of GCN Radio, a popular podcast on issues of faith and sexuality. He blogs at Crumbs from the Communion Table. 

Hundreds of questions rolled in from a wide variety of perspectives, with the top three questions “liked” over 100 times.  Justin certainly rose to the occasion, answering your questions thoughtfully and humbly. I hope you find his responses as helpful as I did. 

***

From Justin: Hello, everyone! I'm honored to have this opportunity, and I'm so grateful to Rachel for making it possible. Thanks, Rachel! 

As soon as I read through the questions Rachel sent, two things were immediately obvious to me: First, you guys are passionate about this issue and have a ton of great questions! Second, some of the questions were really long. Yikes! I don't want to bore you all to tears, but I also know that short, bumper-sticker answers to deep questions aren't very helpful. So I've tried to be concise, I've edited a few of the questions for brevity, and I'm committing right now to stick around here for at least the next week to keep answering questions in the comments.

Anything I don't get to or that needs more space, I'll address on my own blog, Crumbs from the Communion Table.

Now, on to the questions!

From (reader) Justin B.: Before you came to peace with your sexual orientation, did you ever try to "cure" your homosexuality, whether through prayer or some type of program? I'd also be interested in hearing more about your story, such as when you first discovered you were gay, how long you waited before you told people, that kind of thing. 

This is the perfect question to ask, and it's a question I think we Christians should be more in the habit of asking the people we encounter in our lives: "Tell me your story."

Why was the woman at the well so impressed with Jesus? It was because he knew her story. That alone made her eager to listen to him and bring others to do the same.

Our God is a personal God, and as the Body of Christ, we have an obligation to represent God by taking an interest in people's lives and stories. Right now, the church's reputation (especially in the gay community) is that we're a bunch of holier-than-thou jerks who are quick to preach and dole out advice but slow to take an interest in people. That's a reputation we need to reverse. Yes, we are called to take moral stands on issues, but we ought to be known first and foremost for our love.

My story is long, but here's the short(ish) version.

I grew up in a loving Christian home, accepted Christ at a young age, attended a Southern Baptist church, and generally had a pretty awesome upbringing.

From the time I was young, Jesus Christ was—and continues to be—#1 in my life. My relationship with Him was life-giving in every sense of the word, and that's why I considered it so important to live out my faith. I got the nickname "God Boy" in high school because I was the Bible-toting goody two-shoes Christian who didn't smoke, drink, curse, have sex, or shut up about God!

My view of homosexuality was this: God created male and female for each other. Our bodies were designed to fit together in that way, and the Bible made it clear that while sexuality was a gift from God, using our sexuality in ways that were outside of God's design for it was a sin—whether that meant premarital sex, adultery, or homosexuality. My pro-gay friends called me a "homophobe" for this view, but I didn't hate or fear gay people; I simply believed that they were making a sinful choice with their lives, and that by speaking out in a loving way, I could call their attention to it and help bring them back to God. That's what we're supposed to do as Christians, right?

I, of course, wasn't gay. At least, that's what I thought.

But I did have a secret I was going to take to my grave.

Like other guys my age, when I'd hit puberty, I had begun to experience sexual attractions. No surprise there. But one thing was different: while all of my guy friends were starting to notice girls for the first time, I was starting to notice guys.

At first, I didn't worry about it. I figured this was just part of the process and that my attractions would eventually switch to girls. But they didn't. Instead, the feelings just kept getting stronger and stronger. Even if I could make it through the school day without thinking about guys, I'd go to bed at night and dream about guys. I'd wake up each morning feeling dirty and disgusted with myself.

Straight guys, do you remember what it was like to be 16 years old with raging hormones, completely unable to get your mind off of girls no matter what you did? Well, that was my life too, except it was my male classmates who made my hormones go wild, not my female classmates.

As you might expect, I was horrified by this. I couldn't tell anyone, and I didn't know what was wrong with me. It got to the point that I was crying myself to sleep, night after night, begging God to take away these feelings.

It wasn't until I was 18 (and dating a beautiful girl I had no attraction to whatsoever) that I finally realized there was a word for people like me: "gay."

Even then, though, I was convinced it was a phase. I was sure that God didn't design me to be gay, so I looked into every Christian ministry I could find that offered to help gay people become straight. I was completely convinced that an "ex-gay" ministry, combined with therapy and prayer, would help me become attracted to women and put these other feelings behind me. After all, God can do anything!

The hard truth was that it doesn't work that way. Yes, God can do anything, but that doesn't mean God does do what we expect. I met so many people who had faith to move mountains and who had prayed and struggled their whole lives to become straight, but their attractions had still never changed. Even the national leaders and "success stories" of these change ministries privately admitted to me that they hadn't become straight. Yes, some of them had married a member of the opposite sex, but the "happily heterosexual" face they showed to the world was not the reality. I heard more tragic stories behind closed doors than I can possibly convey.

As I turned to my church and the Christians I respected most to get their support, things only got worse. Christian groups kicked me out or turned their backs on me when they learned that I was gay, even though I told them that I didn't want to be and that I hadn't even acted on my feelings! I learned that that one magic word, "gay," had the power to make Christians turn unkind and uncompassionate without even realizing they were doing it. That was the realization that led me to create a safe space on the internet for people who want to live out their faith and explore these difficult questions, even if they come to conclusions that are different from my own. That's where The Gay Christian Network came from.

From KMR: When you first realized you were gay, what verses in the Bible did you struggle with the most?  And how did you reconcile them in order to find peace?

There are a handful of passages in the Bible that directly address homosexuality in some form, and all of them are pretty negative.

In Genesis 19, the residents of the wicked city of Sodom threaten to gang rape two foreigners (actually angels in disguise). They don't succeed, but that threat of male-male rape is why we have the term "sodomy" today.

In Judges 19, an almost identical story takes place in the town of Gibeah. Again, a (male) foreigner is threatened with gang rape, but in the end, the crowd rapes and murders his (female) concubine instead. The ending and other context suggests that Sodom and Gibeah probably weren't gay cities, but did use threats and violence to intimidate foreigners.

In Leviticus 18-20, the death penalty is prescribed for a man who "lies with a man as with a woman." This is part of a set of rules given by God to Moses to keep the Israelites set apart. Some of the rules we Christians still follow today; others we don't.

In Romans 1, Paul is making an argument that all of us are sinners in need of grace. As an example of the folly of turning from God, Paul references a group of people who turned from God to worship idols and engage in "shameful" and "unnatural" behavior including gay sex. Some scholars view this as an indictment on cultures that fail to condemn homosexuality in any form; others argue that Paul is making an obvious allusion to the orgy-like rites practiced by the fertility cults of his day.

Finally, in 1 Cor. 6:9 and 1 Tim. 1:10, Paul offhandedly uses an obscure Greek term when listing groups of sinners. Some scholars have translated it as "men who have sex with men," but others scholars dispute that translation. Adding to the confusion is a second term that appears in only one of those passages. The new NIV argues that these two terms should be taken together to refer to active and passive partners in male anal sex; the 1980s NIV translated the word as "male prostitutes"; and other Bibles and scholars have all sorts of different opinions.

All of these passages address sexual behavior, so when I first realized I was gay, none of them seemed relevant to me. I was attracted to the same sex, but I wasn't sexually active and I didn't have any plans to be. My plan was just to find a way to become straight so that I could be attracted to a woman and get married.

Once I discovered that it was unlikely I would ever become attracted to women, I realized with despair that this meant I would have to be celibate and alone for the rest of my life. I was willing to do it if that was God's call for me, but the idea of being alone my whole life was a scary, sobering thought. Some people deal well with that; I'm not one of those people.

It made me wonder: what was God actually condemning in these passages? Was it the relationship itself that aroused God's anger, or was it just the sex? Could God approve of a loving, non-sexual but committed relationship between two people? As I studied these passages, another question arose I was almost afraid to even ask: Was it even possible that these passages were condemning issues of the day like idolatrous orgies and temple prostitution, and not loving, Christ-centered relationships at all?

I wrestled with that question for a very long time. On one hand, it's easy to see how each of those passages actually addresses an issue other than committed relationships. On the other hand, I couldn't deny that all of the passages that explicitly mentioned homosexuality did so in a negative light. Then again, if we say that commandments for women to wear head coverings or be silent in church are culture-bound and don't apply anymore, isn't it possible the same could be true in this case? If so, how do we know? If not, how do we know? Are we all just reading the Bible to confirm what we already believe?

In the end, I decided that I needed to be consistent in my approach to the Bible: whatever standards I used for deciding this needed to be the same standards I would take to other issues. I spent years prayerfully studying how Jesus and the New Testament writers used Scripture, what the Bible has to say about the nature of sin in general, Jesus' teachings about the law and the Sabbath, Paul's teachings on sexual morality and marriage, and how the early church resolved controversial issues of their day. The more I studied, the more convinced I became that we Christians had applied a different standard to the homosexuality texts than we had to other Scriptural texts, and that condemning Christ-centered relationships solely based on gender was actually inconsistent with biblical teaching.

This conclusion shocked me, and I recognize I'm still in the minority, albeit a rapidly growing one. Some of my very close friends have prayerfully come to the opposite conclusion, so I don't pretend this debate is at all settled. I can honestly say, though, that after all this prayer and study, I am fully convinced of my position, and I believe that my approach to Scripture now is far more consistent than it was before.

I suspect that this will point spark hundreds more questions: What about Adam and Eve? What biblical passages support gay relationships? Couldn't this approach be used to justify any sexual sin? There's way more to talk about than I have space for! A few years ago, I wrote some initial thoughts on the subject, and I'll be writing more about this on my blog, so hang onto those questions!

From Karl: Is it possible in your view for someone to disagree with you - to believe that the Bible consistently teaches sexual activity is intended for heterosexual marriage only - and for that person to not be a bigot, homophobe, motivated by ignorance or fear?

Absolutely! Some of my best friends disagree with me on this issue. I recognize that we are all fallible human beings, which means that either (or both) of us could be wrong, but that doesn't mean we aren't sincerely trying to seek the truth.

There are bigots who use religious language to justify their hatred, but that doesn't mean that anyone who has a view I disagree with is a bigot. There are also many compassionate, loving Christians who sincerely want to be able to give their blessing to their gay friends' relationships but are unable to because they believe the Bible forbids those relationships. I absolutely respect that.

The same is true on the other side. There are many people who claim they believe the Bible but haven't really made any attempt to see what it has to say on the subject; they're just content to have any excuse to do what they want. But I'd hope that anyone who knows me can see that I am not one of those people. I am sincerely seeking to do God's will with all my heart. If I am wrong, I am sincerely wrong. I'm not just looking for excuses.

All of us, on both sides, need to be willing to assume good motives for those we disagree with. We don't have to agree with each other to make a genuine attempt to understand each other.

From Laura: As a theology student, I often have real problems with the theology I find in gay-affirming writing, teaching, and churches. Phrases like "I deserve to be happy" and "If God made me this way why should I be ashamed?" really don't jive with my theological convictions. Do you feel any major theological tensions between orthodox faith and the rhetoric of the community of gay Christians? And if so, how do you go about correcting theological error in a community that is already so wounded and vulnerable because they have grown up battered by "biblical" teaching? 

This is a really great question.

I, too, get frustrated with a lot of gay-affirming theology. A lot of it is poorly thought-through and doesn't reflect a Christian outlook.

For example, I hate the argument that "God made me this way [attracted to the same sex] so it can't be a sin [to have a same-sex relationship]."

That's a terrible argument. As Christians, we believe that we have all kinds of inborn temptations and desires that are wrong for us to act on. Just because someone is born with a certain desire doesn't mean it's automatically okay for them to follow through on it.

I actually do believe that there are great Bible-based arguments for the church to support people in committed same-sex relationships. This, however, is not one of them.

(By the way, I should point out that there are many, many gay Christians out there with really strong Christian theology, so the theology you've read doesn't reflect us all.)

The reverse is also true, of course. I hear lots of people on the other side make equally poor arguments, such as, "People can't be born gay, because the Bible says homosexuality is a sin." That's just the same terrible argument in reverse, and it ends up with well-meaning Christians accusing gay people of being liars when we say we didn't choose to be gay. That only pushes people further away from the gospel and makes the church look like it's in denial.

Your second question is where it gets especially tricky. You're absolutely right that a lot of gay people are incredibly wounded, having been theologically "battered" over and over by misguided Christians. I cannot possibly convey how much damage Christians have done to our own cause by approaching the gay community in hurtful ways.

This damage, then, makes it very difficult for churches to offer even appropriate and loving correction—the kind we all need. Have you ever seen a dog that's been abused its whole life? They run and cower in the corner if you even try to approach them to pet them. A lot of us feel like that when dealing with conservative Christians, frankly.

At this point, the best solution is for Christians to err on the side of being loving when dealing with people who have been abused by the church. Often, you'll have to bite your tongue on the theological error and focus on building relationships. That correction may be necessary, but it will have to come from people who have built the necessary trust first.

As a gay Christian leader, I view it as part of my responsibility to talk about those hard things our community doesn't want to face. People can accept those challenges from me in a way that they might not from someone else. But we still have a long way to go, and the only long-term solution is for the church to get its act together and learn to approach this issue far more lovingly than we have.

From Katy: My cousin, whom I love, is a gay Christian…He flaunts his sexuality. His Facebook profile oftentimes has pictures from parties or Halloween where he is in underwear or something else skimpy. If I posted pics of myself dressed that way, it would be considered raunchy and inappropriate, but it's accepted for him to present himself that way. When I have brought this distinction up with people, I have been told it's part of the "gay culture" but  I don't buy that.  So what’s your view, as a Christian gay, of sexuality? Is sex just for "marriage" because you are a Christian?

You didn't say how old your cousin is, but my guess is that this is something he'll grow out of.

I don't believe that the standards for sexual behavior should be any different for gay Christians than they are for straight Christians. I grew up believing that sex is something you save for marriage, so even after I realized I was gay and came to a gay-affirming conclusion from the Bible, I still decided I would wait until I met the right person and got married before having sex. Not all Christians (gay or straight) believe in waiting until marriage, and studies show that even those who do believe in it, usually fail to live up to their own standards. But my point is that the standards ought to be the same.

(By "marriage," by the way, I'm referring to a commitment before God, whether or not the government recognizes it. C.S. Lewis said that there should be a distinction between civil marriage and church marriage, and I agree.)

Of course, I know a lot of gay and straight Christians who behave in ways I wouldn't approve of. I do think this is a bigger issue in the gay world, though, and I believe that just shows how important the church is in our lives.

Let me explain what I mean.

One of the church's functions in society is to offer boundaries. Why don't we just go around having sex with anyone we want to? Partly because of the influence of the church. When it functions as it should, the church offers us reasonable boundaries to help us live holy lives. We say to young men, for instance, "The sex drive you feel is normal, and I know at times it can feel overwhelming, but don't let it control you. It may be tempting to have sex with pretty girls now, but it's far more fulfilling to wait."

Do all the straight young men wait? No. But the church sets the expectation.

Sometimes, though, the church gets it really wrong. When a young man is gay, the message he gets isn't to wait until the right time; it's that there will never be a right time. Not only that; he's told that his sex drive itself—not even lust but just the temptation he feels—is a horrible sin, something that may condemn him to hell even if he never acts on it.

Kids who hear these messages feel trapped. They've been made to feel that they're condemned even if they follow all the rules, and many grow to hate themselves.

What often happens, then, is one of two things. Either they internalize the shame and become depressed and withdrawn, or they rebel against the shame, coming out and in many cases making their sexuality the core of their identity for a while.

You know those gay people who can't stop talking about being gay? The ones who always have to be front and center in the pride parade wearing a hyper-sexualized outfit and shouting loudly about how proud they are of their sexuality? Often, this is their way of rebelling against many years shame. The good Christian boy who comes out and suddenly is on Facebook in his underwear may well be trying to escape from the years of shame you never even knew he felt. That's not always the case, but it often is. Once people have fully reconciled themselves and grown confident with who they are, they rarely post underwear pictures on Facebook.

There is, though, a very sex-obsessed gay culture out there, and it grew largely out of that kind of rebellion in the 60s and 70s. Just like straight Christians need the church to offer moral guidance about sex that is different from what the world offers, gay Christians need that too. If most churches won't welcome them, some gay Christians end up turning to a secular gay culture to see how they should live, and that really needs to be the church's responsibility.

From Ellie: Do you know any homosexual Christians that have chosen to remain single and celibate? How well do they seem to cope with that? What would you advise a person who is gay but believes that homosexual relationships and activity would be wrong?

Yes! I know plenty of them!

The organization I run, The Gay Christian Network, has two theological "sides." We call them "Side A" and "Side B." One side supports gay Christian marriage, while the other side encourages gay Christians to remain celibate.

My friend Wesley Hill has written a wonderful book about being a celibate gay Christian called Washed and Waiting: Reflections on Christian Faithfulness and Homosexuality.

It's an incredibly challenging path. Incredibly, incredibly challenging. But it is, of course, the best option for a gay person who believes the Bible condemns gay relationships, and I know people who are committed to it and thriving.

We at GCN believe it's vital that we welcome those people and offer them support and fellowship so they don't have to endure the journey alone. The broader church, sadly, has all too often failed to offer any kind of support for them. I would like to see that change.

From Dawn: Given all the nasty rhetoric that has been aimed at the LGBT community -- and in that sense, at you personally -- by Christian and Christian political leaders, what is it about Christianity itself that's so compelling that you haven't been turned off completely by so many of its messengers?

One word: Jesus.

The church is human, and we make mistakes. Sometimes we don't represent God very well at all. But Jesus represented God perfectly as the incarnation of God. He loved the people his culture didn't love, he interacted with people he wasn't supposed to interact with, and he refused to distance himself from the people others called "sinners." Jesus' harsh words were aimed at the religious leaders of his day who, in their zeal for correct doctrine, were pushing people away from God. He didn't run for office or yell at sinners through a bullhorn. He loved, healed, and fed people, and then he let them beat him and hang him on a cross.

That's my God.

From Alise: Hi Justin! Been a fan for a while, since my best friend Tina turned me onto your site. Thank you for the safe place that you have for LGBTQ Christians. Your site was part of my journey toward gay affirming and I'm thankful to you for that as well. My question: Can a church that is not affirming still be welcoming to an LGBTQ Christian? What kinds of actions would make you feel more welcome, even if the church still believed/taught that gay relationships are sinful?

Thanks for the kind words, Alise!

I think whether a church feels "welcoming" depends a lot on the person being welcomed. I can say whether I feel welcome in a particular church, but that doesn't mean someone else will.

Personally, I would not feel welcome in a church that teaches that I chose to be gay (I didn't!) or that condemns me simply for admitting I'm attracted to guys. However, I have felt welcomed in so-called "Side B" churches that condemn gay relationships but still welcome gay people and encourage them to remain celibate. Many gay people would not feel welcome there.

I disagree with the "Side B" viewpoint, but I used to agree with it, so I totally understand where it's coming from. Since I'm single at the moment, it doesn't really affect me whether or not a church I'm attending condemns gay relationships. What I care about the most is whether I agree with the church's theology on major issues and whether the church understands that I didn't choose to be gay and is ready to fully welcome me as a gay Christian.

However, suppose I meet an amazing guy, fall in love, and want to commit my life to him? Then it would be a lot trickier. Would I continue attending a church that teaches that the most important relationship in my life is an abomination to God? Would they even want me there? I know many gay couples in that situation, and many others who wouldn't even consider a church like that out of respect for their own relationship.

Even the church I've described, though, is rarer than I'd like. Many, many churches still teach or imply that gay people choose to be gay or that we could become straight if we just prayed enough or had the right therapy. That's the quickest way to make me feel unwelcome.

The quickest way to make me feel welcome? Listen to my story and be my friend.

Terry asks: As the parent of gay son who has left the church, what advice can you offer me as to how I can encourage him to relook at his beliefs in Jesus and the church? 

Tami has a son in a similar situation, adding: At this point, he has returned to a faith of sorts, but has no use for "the church."  We are at a loss for how to encourage him in this area because "the church" varies from un-accepting to just plain mean. Would you have advice for how we can better love and support our son in the area of growing in his faith?

This is a really tough one because of the battering problem I mentioned earlier. I find that most Christians are totally unaware of how mean the church can be to gay people, and so they don't know that they need to do anything to fix it. As long as it's not fixed, it's going to be hard to give gay people a reason to come back to the church.

(Incidentally, if you would like to know more about why I say the church is so mean to gay people, check out this documentary. I promise you won't look at the issue the same way again.)

One possibility is to consider getting involved with a group of gay Christians. My organization has aconference each January that brings a number of gay Christians along with their parents and/or friends together in a nonthreatening atmosphere of worship and fellowship. People tell us every year that it helps re-energize their faith, and there are lots of 20- and 30-somethings, so Tami, your son should feel right at home. (You didn't say how old your son is, Terry, but I'm sure he'd feel right at home too!)

There may also be groups of gay and affirming Christians in your area. GCN has local groups you can connect with through our message board, but there may be other groups and/or affirming churches in your area where he might feel welcome. Feel free to call our office and someone on our staff can help you find something in your area if you can't find it online.

If your son is resistant to any kind of Christian fellowship right now, my advice is not to push it. Give him time, and keep him in prayer. He may need time to process his frustration with the church, and God doesn't stop pursuing us just because we're not in a church on Sunday morning. As a parent, you might even decide to get connected with an online or offline fellowship of gay Christians yourself, just to better understand the community; this would surely get your son's attention! In the end, of course, he'll have to make his own decisions, but we can do our best to make the church a more welcoming place for when he's ready.

From Adam: Will you accept our sincere apology?

You mean for asking so many tough questions? Only if you'll accept mine for writing such long answers!

Seriously, I appreciate the question, though I'd be hypocritical to say "yes" and not acknowledge that I, too, said the very same things in the past. I hurt people with my words when I thought I was being loving, so now that I have a new perspective on it all, I completely understand when others say the things to me that I used to say to the gay people I met. (I guess I deserved it!)

I owe an apology to all the people I've hurt, and I of course offer my unconditional forgiveness to anyone who may have hurt me. We all make mistakes, and we're all trying to stand for what's right. It's just that sometimes we don't have all the facts even when we think we do.

So let's stay in conversation even though we don't all agree. There are many more things I could say, and I know there are many more questions out there. I'll do my best to answer them here and on my blog over the coming days and weeks.

Thanks, everyone, for your fantastic questions! And please, keep in touch! In addition to the blog, you can find me on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+. I get to do this kind of stuff for a living, so I'm happy to help any way that I can.

The entire link and subsequent conversation can be found at Rachel Held Evans

--Nick