“Christmas at [name of church]! Merry Christmas! We can’t wait to see you! Ride our horse carriages, take a photo at the snow booth, stop by the indoor photo booth, grab some hot chocolate or apple cider, coffee or refreshments and enjoy the trumpets in the balcony! Then join us for a great message and music in the auditorium at 10:30am!”
My heart and stomach sank when I saw this Christmas service promotional for a church. I’m also sad that “promotional” is the best word I can think of at the moment. Can we all just admit that there’s a problem when churches look more like commercialized department stores rather than places of worship, and more like places of entertainment than houses of God? Not just this particular church, but any church that feels the need to commercialize. Unfortunately, it’s occurring in many churches.
Every Barna Group and Pew Research study I’ve ever read on the topic makes it very clear that Millennials are leaving the church in droves, and Generation Z is following. Most of the younger members of Gen Z aren’t being brought up in church at all. One would think the first step to take regarding this issue would be to ask Millennials and Gen Z why it is that they’re leaving the church or are uninterested in beginning attendance.
I’ve also read many articles published where these generations were asked about the reasons for leaving and/or not attending a church. From the information I’ve gathered, the main reason is that our generations are not interested in being entertained by the church. If entertainment is what we wanted, we have a whole plethora of options besides church.
We want authenticity. Real authenticity. We want a real relationship with God. We want to be able to question and explore spirituality. We want real relationships and community with other people; not some shallow experience that begins and ends with a Sunday morning greeting.
It is my opinion that if a church has to dig this deep into the sphere of commercialism and entertainment in order to attempt to attract guests, the church seriously needs to reevaluate its strategy. If a church is this reliant on attractions and novelties, it becomes difficult to view what goes on onstage as anything other than a show. It’s distracting. Whatever happened to Jesus and the Gospel being enough? If Jesus and the Gospel aren’t enough for you, dear church, just close your doors because you’re missing the only mark that matters.
Look at the advertisement: “…in the auditorium…” Of course it’s all semantics, but when I think of an auditorium, I think of a place to go see entertainment. A sanctuary is a place where we go to worship and revere our Lord. I point that out only to demonstrate how even language is being selected in a manner to make church more appealing.
Whatever happened to Jesus and the Gospel being enough? If Jesus and the Gospel aren’t enough for you, dear church, just close your doors because you’re missing the only mark that matters.
Church, keep your glitz and novelty acts. If Jesus, the King of kings, came down to earth quietly in the night, surely you don’t need heralding trumpets. If Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, you don’t need horse and chariot escorts in the parking lot. Church, if your elaborate and extravagant schemes are one-upping the Jesus you plan to speak of, it shows that you do not truly understand what the meekness and humility of Jesus—from birth to death and resurrection—is truly about.
There are two types of apologies that are unhelpful and negatively impact both the giver and the recipient. It’s time we break free from the habit of saying “sorry” when we really aren’t.
I’ve offered many apologies in my lifetime. Plenty were heartfelt, and I genuinely meant them. I owed them. However, I’m starting to realize that I have also given many apologies that weren’t owed nor did I really mean. I’ve apologized way too many times out of guilt.
Two Types of Guilt-Induced/Manipulative Apologies:
1) A response to someone’s reaction to me.
I’ve spoken what I either believe to be truth or my sincere opinion, and people don’t always react well. When someone doesn’t react well to what I say, I have developed the bad habit of thinking that I owe them an apology. I try to remedy the situation by giving apologies that I don’t truly mean. I don’t owe anyone an apology for speaking my mind or sharing my opinion.
Recently, I had a public discussion about pastor’s salaries. Someone I know read this particular discussion and ended up blocking me on social media. I shouldn’t have felt bad about that. I mean, it’s an overdramatic reaction, in my opinion. However, I did feel bad for their reaction, so I sent a private apology. Not long after, I was wondering why I sent that apology. I didn’t mean it. I wasn’t sorry. I actually still held to my same opinion and views regarding the pastor’s salaries discussion.
I’m working on breaking my habit of feeling like I need to apologize to people who don’t like my personal views and opinions. They’re just that—my personal views and opinions. Your reaction to them is totally up to you. I’m done feeling guilty about having things to say. I’m also not interested in giving false apologies; even when I do it thinking it’ll help the other person. It won’t. It, ultimately, doesn’t help either of us, and I’m not one to purposefully be disingenuous.
2) A response to my reaction of others.
There’s no telling how many times I’ve apologized to people for how I responded to their actions that hurt me. In other words, I have been apologizing for being hurt by others. This is abusive and manipulative, and no one should ever make you feel like you’re in the wrong for being hurt by someone else and reacting accordingly.
They hurt me.
I react to that hurt.
They get angry because of my reaction to the hurt they caused.
I apologize to them for how I reacted to the hurt they caused.
The initial hurt is never brought up again.
In my experience, this occurred quite frequently in regards to years of psychological and emotional abuse I endured from my brother’s wife, and also from spiritual and emotional abuse that I was receiving in the church environment I was in and from certain church leaders there. The time frame in which there was an overlapping of these events was particularly hellish. It seemed like nonstop “I’m sorry for reacting in hurt when you hurt me.” I drove my mental health into the ground while trying to keep the peace and continuously trying to patch things back together; both with my biological family and with my “church family.” These are the apologies that I never should have given because I never owed them. These are the apologies that should have been given to me but never were.
This is where I had to finally accept many apologies that I never actually received so that I could move on from these people and situations.
Next time, before you apologize, make sure that your motives and reasons are good and correct. Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it; save yourself and the other person the false peace and coming confusion. Also, do not apologize for being hurt and/or reacting to hurt. Never allow anyone to make you feel like you own an apology in that kind of situation. You don’t. In summary, don’t apologize from a place of guilt. That will help you avoid both of these situations.
The Gospel of Jesus Christ is very much a Social Gospel. To some of you, that may be the most controversial thing you’ve ever heard someone say about the Gospel. I suppose if the phrase “Social Gospel” just doesn’t sit well with you, we can say that the Gospel of Jesus Christ is very much saturated in social issues. Rarely do we see Jesus not entangled in the social issues of His day. I don’t think there could have possibly been anything more socially scandalous during this time—when the Roman Empire reigned and the Jewish people were prosperous—than someone coming along and being heralded as the King of the Jews and the prophesied Messiah. It only took one scandalous incarnation to completely upset and upheave two massively powerful social orders of political and religious persuasions.
Often times, Jesus puts Himself purposefully and directly in the middle of social issues. He chose to hang out with prostitutes and tax collectors. He chose to associate with the Samaritan woman at the well. He chose to heal on the Sabbath. He chose to drop the stones and pardon the woman caught in adultery. Things seemed to be going just fine in the Temple before Jesus walked in, flipped the tables over, and called it a “den of thieves.” And, dare we not forget, He chose to go to the cross—a social issue of Roman execution through the pressure of the Jewish leaders. Jesus died on a Roman cross with a sign detailing His crime as “King of the Jews.”
It’s interesting because the Jews had been awaiting the arrival of a Messiah who held political power and would rise up as King of the Jews to save them from Rome. Maybe the sign above Jesus’ cross could have just as easily read “Jesus of Nazareth: Social Justice Warrior.” Wasn’t that His true crime—shaking up the social issues of His time? Jesus preached a Gospel that set the captives free from social injustice: the poor and oppressed captive, the marginalized captive, the female captive, the gentile captive. The Gospel of Jesus is ultimately about freedom from sin, but when we realize that the root of all social injustice is sin, we see why Jesus and His Gospel can’t be separated from social issues. Jesus certainly wasn’t interested in keeping the peace when doing so would have been at the expense of inequality and those being oppressed and mistreated.
It’s amazing to me how much flack social justice advocates are forced to take these days; just for advocating in churches that have clear social justice problems. My foremost area of advocating is for egalitarianism: the theological and biblical belief that men and women are equal in essence as well as in authority and leadership. There is no such thing as “gender roles.” This is sometimes known as Biblical Feminism.
When people like myself speak out in churches that embrace the false beliefs of male-headship, wifely submission, and all other things complementarian; we are accused of causing disunity. Jory Micah, in her blog post entitled “I Will Not Conform to Make False Peace,” hit the nail on the head for me when she wrote, “The thing is, I am not interested in unity that is at the expense of the oppressed. I am not interested in staying silent on behalf of the girls and women who are being treated unjustly so that I can make privileged [Christians] feel more comfortable.”
I have found myself in a similar situation. Before finally leaving, I was constantly being accused of causing disunity in my church due to my strong advocating of women’s rights and egalitarianism in a church that strongly embraces male-headship and complementarianism. The ultimatum given to me was that I needed to silence my advocating or leave. I was told that my advocating was causing disunity and that being silent about such things would be the way in which I would live peaceably with those in that church. I wasn’t interested in catering to their whims of false peace or disillusioned unity. Unity is a noble goal, but so is separating truth from error. Some things shouldn’t be “agree to disagree”—like gender equality and equal rights between men and women.
True unity isn’t the sound of silencing half of the church and leaving them voiceless. True unity isn’t leaving half of the church out of the decision making process. True unity isn’t dismissing half of the church from positions of authority and leadership. True unity doesn’t diminish the gifts of half of the church. True unity cannot coexist with the oppression of half the church. When I began thinking about ways to accomplish cultivating unity in the church, I realized that true unity will only come when we embrace women as equal leaders in our churches. Only when we remove the idea of patriarchy, and instead see men and women standing side-by-side as complete equals, will we be able to fully achieve true unity.
Jesus abandoned His place of privilege in order to become a servant of the oppressed.
May we do the same.
*This blog was originally a guest post for “Unsilenced,” and was first published on August 22, 2018. Here’s a link to the original post. Check out more while you’re there!*
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1, NIV).
This is the very Word that spoke the universe, and all of creation, into existence. For some reason, I have a difficult time picturing that moment as being anything other than loud and explosive and filled with majesty. I imagine God’s voice booming and things coming into existence almost as quickly as He speaks. It is the voice of God thundering throughout an empty void while creation obeys His words. The Word shouted and creation bowed in worship.
“The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (John 1:14a).
The same Word that once echoed throughout creation now quietly, in the still of the night, made His way down to earth and became Immanuel—God with us. The Word that once shouted everything into being came to earth as a human being, and I imagine this time was more of a whisper. The Son of God came quietly in the night, swaddled in cloth, and whimpered the soft cries of an infant. The Christ child made an entrance into the very world He had spoken into existence, and His entrance was anything other than mighty and majestic. It was meek and humble, where the only room for Him to even lay His head was in a stable manger. God leaned down from His throne in Heaven and whispered intimately to earth. God whispered salvation to all of humanity through a baby—Jesus, the Son of God.
Was there a moment, known only to God, when all the stars held their breath, when the galaxies paused in their dance for a fraction of a second, and the Word, who had called it all into being, went with all of His love into the womb of a young girl? —Madeleine L’Engle
“We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14b).
The thing about whispering is that it requires intimacy. It requires one to be up close and personal with another. When the Father sent His Son to earth, He chose the most intimate way—through the whisper of a baby born in Bethlehem. This shows just how intimate and close God was willing to bring His creation to Him. Or, rather, how God so yearned for intimacy with His creation that He left His heavenly throne, took on flesh, and went to earth to dwell among them as one of them.
One might expect a king to come with horse and chariot and trumpets heralding; with his full majesty on display. However, our King chose to come lowly, humbly, and quietly. All of His glory and majesty was tucked away—covered by flesh—blending Him in with sinful humanity. God came down to earth, to an insignificant city called Bethlehem, to a manger in a stable; and to the baby lying there, God whispered salvation’s name: Jesus. He is the One who will save His people from their sins (Matt 1:21).
When someone speaks in a whisper, you have to get very close to hear. In fact, you have to put your ear near the person’s mouth. We lean toward a whisper, and that’s what God wants. The goal of hearing the heavenly Father’s voice isn’t just hearing His voice; it’s intimacy with Him. That’s why He speaks in a whisper. He wants to be as close to us as is divinely possible! He loves us, likes us, that much. —Mark Batterson
Still today, I believe that God is more interested in whispering to us rather than shouting at us. God wants to have the kind of intimate relationship with us that allows Him to lean in closely and whisper softly into our hearts. We should yearn for a relationship with God that allows us to feel that still, small voice and know that it is from our heavenly Father. It is a connection between His love and our hearts. After all, this is the entire reason for the Word becoming flesh and dwelling among us—to allow us a connection with God like never before.
The thing about complementarian theology is that I have to ask myself why any Christian would believe that such an abusive, toxic, and unjust system is of God? I understand their arguments, but I just can’t wrap my head around believing that God created and upholds a system that hurts His children so badly.
The complementarian idea of man leading woman is rooted in the curse God placed on the earth after the Fall (Gen 3). Why would a group of Christians uphold part of God’s curse when we understand that Christ died to redeem us from the effects of the curse?
The serpent is a representation of Satan. In Gen 3:15a, God says that He will put enmity between the woman and the serpent. Have we ever considered that this is what complementarianism is—the enmity between Satan and the woman? What better way for Satan to get back at women than to limit women in the Church? The worst part is how many Christians are deceived into believing that this theological system is God ordained. I can’t imagine that God would willingly use any method to limit half of His Church.
Gen 3:15b, as God is still speaking to the serpent, is what is known as the “protoevangelium.” It’s the first mention of the gospel. “He will crush your head, and you will strike his heel.” In other words, Satan’s feeble attempts to limit Christ’s Church will be met with a defeating blow as Jesus redeems this curse on the cross.
This is why egalitarianism is rooted in redemption. Gal 3:28 solidifies this when it says, “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (NIV). Or, as the CEV states it, “Faith in Christ Jesus is what makes each of you equal with each other, whether you are a Jew or a Greek, a slave or a free person, a man or a woman.” Christ’s work on the cross brought humanity back to its pre-fall state of equality within humanity.
God did not ordain a harmful system. God redeemed a harmful system.
I think this particular post may resonate with some more than others, and that all depends on where we each find ourselves in this journey towards equality. Where ever you find yourself, I hope that you find this helpful and eye opening.
I’m here to be honest with you and to let you know that the road to gender equality isn’t always an easy one. From my experience, this has been the rockiest journey that I’ve ever embarked on. Some of you come from traditions where gender equality in the church, home, and society was the norm. You have a difficult time imagining the set-up to be any different, because this has always been your normal. Some of you come from, or are currently in, backgrounds similar to mine. For my entire life, my church membership has been at a Southern Baptist church with a very complementarian leaning. At almost 24 years old, I still have never seen or heard a woman speak or preach from the church pulpit. I have only ever heard women speak and teach the Bible in conference settings or something similar.
Whether you have come out of a complementarian background and embraced gender equality, are still in the complementarian tradition and are here to engage and learn more about egalitarianism and biblical gender equality, or have been in the tradition of equality for quite some time; I hope that you find the following to be beneficial in understanding that this road will almost certainly not be an easy one. It may be easier for some than others, but I want you all to be prepared for the not-so-nice side of advocating for equality.
I came out of the complementarian tradition. The more I studied Scripture and examined the life of Jesus, I was led to embrace the theology of egalitarianism—the belief that men and women are equal in authority and leadership in the church, home, and society. When I became a vocal advocate for gender equality, the backlash began to come in full force.
I’ve been called a heretic.
I’ve been called a Jezebel.
I’ve been called a Satanist and a promoter of Satanism.
I’ve had strangers tell me that I’m not following the true God, rather, a false god inside of myself.
I’ve have strangers tell me that I haven’t actually experienced true salvation.
I’ve had a (now former) church friend tell me that I need to focus more on “finding a real relationship with Jesus” and less on “advocating my own agenda.”
I’ve been told that my ministry is not God ordained because it is “outright condemned in Scripture.”
I’ve been told that I need to set aside my “ego” and “humbly re-read the Bible for God’s instruction.”
I’ve been told that I’m “misguided and need to turn my eyes to the Lord’s Word; because my tradition is blinding me from the Bible, and I am in rebellion to the order God has placed on me. I am directly violating His Word.”
I’ve been told to “actually read the Bible for myself,” and that my stance is “not to further the Gospel but my own self-interest.”
I’ve been told that I’m only about promoting “my equality agenda” over promoting the Gospel.
I have an undergraduate degree in theology and some seminary schooling, yet my education is constantly attacked and degraded.
I have too much education.
I don’t have enough education.
I need to invest in a “real education.”
“Degrees don’t matter,” and just because I have a degree in the field doesn’t mean I have more knowledge on the subject than those who don’t.
I was told by a stranger that she would “love to be at my judgment day so that she could watch me argue with God.”
My home church (complementarian) of 23 years, asked me to leave due to my vocalization of gender equality.
Everything I have just listed was either said to me or written to me in response to my advocating for gender equality. I want you all to see this because, depending on the type of people you encounter who disagree with you, I want you to be prepared to encounter these kinds of situations. This is real.
I spend much of my life thinking about the gender equality issue, and sometimes I wonder if it is all just a waste of time and energy. Maybe it is, but I can’t seem to stop; because there are few things on earth which offend me more than the name of God being used to silence and oppress half of His human creation. I see too many women hurt, insulted, abused, and disrespected by complementarian theology to be able to turn away completely. So, instead, I pray that God will use me to help create change wherever I can. At times it can be frustrating to see how slowly things move forward, but for me, it is comforting and energizing to know there are other people fighting for women and their spiritual freedom.
Advocating isn’t always easy. Some people will try to hurt you and knock you down. Get back up and keep going. That’s what we have to do. If I knew this would be the result of my choice to become an egalitarian and advocate for gender equality, would I still choose to put myself in this battle? Yes. Yes, I would; because justice is not an issue with room for compromise.
I’m not a huge fan of the term “intersectional.” Instead, I prefer to think of the gospel and social justice as being so intertwined and interwoven that they become inseparable. We see this in the life of Jesus as He broke racial, gender, and socioeconomic barriers on a regular basis. Jesus made Himself available to minister to everyone and considered everyone worthy of possessing and sharing His gospel.
Consider the woman at the well. She not only was a woman, but a Samaritan woman. Jesus broke with traditional social etiquette by sharing the news of the Living Water with someone who was a gender and a race that He should have avoided. Because Jesus broke with tradition, the Samaritan woman went on to proclaim the Good News to her village; making her one of the first Christian evangelists. *GASP* So, that means that a woman was preaching the gospel to the women, children, and men of her village? Yes, Scripture would certainly make it seem that way.
Think also about the woman with the issue of blood. Through a crowd of people, she reached out and touched the hem of Jesus’ robe. Jesus should have been angry. By Jewish Law, being touched by an unclean person should have made Jesus unclean as well. Instead, Jesus turns around, asks who touched Him, and heals the woman out of her audacious faith. How awesome is it that the unclean came flocking to the One who was able to clean them up, unafraid that they could defile the Holy God in whom there was healing and cleansing!
To Jesus, equality was not an “agenda.” Equality is simply the way humanity is supposed to function. Thus, I take issue when someone accuses me of “promoting an agenda” over promoting the gospel; as if the two were mutually exclusive. It irks my nerves when people, particularly Christians, put the gospel on one end of a spectrum and social justice on the opposite end—ignoring the fact that the two were never meant to be separated, as evidenced by how Jesus lived out His life prior to going to the cross.
He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. –Micah 6:8
Should anyone ever accuse you, or the next time someone does accuse you, of promoting your feminist, women’s equality “agenda” over the gospel, I would advise you to ask that person if they would accuse Jesus of promoting an “agenda.” Jesus was in the business of raising women to the status and position that they were created to have—one of equality with their male counterparts. That’s no agenda. It’s a beautiful calling of restoration and redemption. Jesus has always been in the business of restoring and redeeming, and Christians should be first in line to emulate Jesus’ practices.
Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy. –Proverbs 31:8-9
If the church is supposed to reflect Christ, then shouldn’t that translate into the church demonstrating unconditional love just as Christ does?
People wonder why I have issues with the church in general, and here’s something that has come to mind today: After 23 years belonging to the same local body of Christ, one would think that I would have their support in my endeavors; especially ones involving what I’m doing in ministry. One would think these people would be the first to support, encourage, and lift me up.
Instead, I get a group of people, who I thought actually loved and cared about me, turn their noses up at me and treat me like I’m invisible and disposable. This isn’t about me, but you’re commitment to me–as mine is to you–is to spur one another on to good works. Your silent treatment to me has spoken louder than words ever could. I don’t exist to you anymore. Your silence has made that loud and clear. What’s also clear is how conditional your love and support actually is. As soon as I no longer fit into your nice, neat little box of who and what you thought I should be, the love and support ceased.
I won’t try to reach out to you anymore. Not for friendship, encouragement, advice, or anything else that I should be able to get from a church community. I reach out, and no one’s there. I can’t keep processing through the rejection shown to me by those who are supposed to be the representatives of the God of unconditional love and a million second chances. If God doesn’t reject any of His children, where did His church learn to do such a thing?
Abuse is a word that shouldn’t be flippantly thrown around, so I’ve never considered myself an abuse victim. That is, until I became more aware of spiritual abuse. It was when I finally stepped out of and away from the church that I was able to see things from the outside looking in, and I didn’t like what I saw. I didn’t like having to face the way I was made to feel. I didn’t like having to admit that I was a victim of spiritual abuse.
My gifts and talents of teaching and leading were never utilized in the church, no matter how much I begged to be used; because I’m a female, and females must stay in their places and set roles.
I didn’t know that was abuse.
My voice was silenced every time I tried to speak up about the issue of the inequality and oppression of women in the church.
I didn’t know that was abuse.
I was told that it was “my fault” that the other church members didn’t like me and didn’t want to be around me, because I dared to challenge the views of the church leadership.
I didn’t know that was abuse.
I was told that I was the cause of disunity, division, and strife in the church; because I was constantly trying to hold discussions about the inequality present in the church.
I didn’t know that was abuse.
The church hated me when I dared to correct the pastor when he used his pulpit as a platform to misrepresent and trash egalitarian theology. One male individual from the church even sent me nasty messages on Facebook that called me names, insulted me in every way, and even threatened to “find me” the next time I showed up for service.
I didn’t know that was abuse.
I thought I had an opportunity to discuss gender theology with the pastor one day, but about 15 minutes into the conversation, I was yelled at and commanded to get out of his office.
I didn’t know that was abuse.
After sending the pastor an email with the intention of trying to understand a theological point about marriage and gender roles that was said in his sermon, the reply I received back simply said, “I’m not going to discuss this with you,” but that was followed by several paragraphs of personal attacks against my character and explanations as to why I wasn’t liked in the church.
I didn’t know that was abuse.
Even after going to college for an undergraduate degree in Theology and continuing on to the Master of Divinity program, I was not allowed to openly voice my theological views and opinions; especially if they were contradictory to that of the church leaders. If I did, both church leadership and lay people were ready to rip my head off. When I would explain that I had the knowledge and credentials to adequately speak to an issue, the males with the higher education degrees were the first to tell me that “degrees don’t matter.”
I didn’t know that was abuse.
After quite a few comments “suggesting” to me that I leave the church, I finally left–and I left church altogether. Lately I’ve been on the outside looking in, and what I see is theology and practices and attitudes that are harming real people–people like me. I’ve had to take a good look in my spiritual mirror. What I see are bruises, wounds, and scars. There’s a lot of hurt and bitterness. This is all going to take some time to heal. Why did I let all of this spiritual abuse go on for so long? Because I didn’t know that it was abuse. I didn’t realize that I was being abused, but abuse is exactly what it was.
You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown where feet may fail
And there I find You in the mystery
In oceans deep
My faith will stand
And I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine
Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You’ve never failed and You won’t start now
-From “Oceans (Where Feet May Fail),” Hillsong UNITED
I think we all get to a point in our lives, at some time or another, when we simply feel like we are drowning beneath the weight of life. One wave after another, of life’s trials, slam us over and over again until we are left feeling battered, bruised, defeated, and not knowing what to do with ourselves. I think the worst part of it, for me, is that I thought I was doing life for Jesus the best I knew how; yet, even in the midst of trying to fulfill my calling, I have not been spared the pounding waves of life. Not by any stretch of the imagination. As of this semester of school–my senior year of college, the year that was supposed to be the best yet–I have been hit with what literally seems like one disaster after another.
I could swear, I have been drowning beneath the weight of life and life’s circumstances. Then I remembered, there’s a Bible guy who thought he was drowning too; literally. His name’s Peter. Remember him? Here’s some of his story:
Jesus Walks on the Water (Matt. 14:22-33; NIV)
22 Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd.23 After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone,24 and the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.
25 Shortly before dawn Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake.26 When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear.
27 But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”
28 “Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.”
29 “Come,” he said.
Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus.30 But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”
31 Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”
32 And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down.33 Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”
When Peter took his eyes off of Jesus, he started sinking, but I think there is one thing worth noting before even getting to Peter walking on the water. How many disciples were in the boat? All of them; so twelve. Pastor Steven Furtick, of Elevation Church, preached a fantastic sermon about this story from Peter’s life, and he preached from a perspective that I had never heard before, but it forever changed the way I now read the story. Furtick pointed out that, typically, the point made about this story is that Peter doubted Jesus, and we should never doubt Jesus. End of sermon. However, maybe we are not exegeting (pulling meaning out of the text) the main point. What if the main point is not that we should never doubt Jesus? After all, we are only human, and humans tend to doubt quite a bit; even if our goal should be to trust in our God. What if the main point of this text is that, out of all twelve disciples, Peter was the only one who exercised the necessary faith to get out of the boat to begin with!
Now, back to Peter actually on the water: Peter got out of the boat and started walking on the water. He seems to be doing just fine…until he takes his focus off of Jesus. He took his eyes off of Jesus and began to focus on the wind and storm, and he became afraid; as the Scripture tells us. Is that not exactly what happens to us? In life, we begin to sink beneath our circumstances when we take our focus off of Jesus, the One who is our sustainer, and begin to focus on the storms in our lives. What is promising about this passage is that it never says that Peter is drowning; it says he was “beginning to sink.” Verse 31 begins with, “Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him.” Immediately. Do not miss that. Jesus took no time at all to reach down, grab Peter, and pull him back to the safety of Himself. I can’t help but wonder if that is why the verse says “sink” and not “drown.” Jesus seems to have acted so fast to save Peter, who was in distress, that my guess is Peter’s head never even grazed beneath the surface of the water; because the Bible never says he started to drown.
Like the song “Oceans” says, God will call us to tread some deep waters. God never called us to an easy walk with Him, but He did promise to be there with us through every step of our journey. Sometimes, we will be out in these deep waters not knowing where we are being lead, and being constantly hit by waves will shake our faith and make us turn our focus off of the One leading us and on to our trials and circumstances. That’s when we will find ourselves beginning to sink; because we temporarily have lost sight of our Guide. However, like Peter, all we have to do is cry out, “Lord, save me!” and immediately He will grab us up and continue to lead us through the storm and onward to safety.
The last thing worth mentioning is how the story concludes. Peter had the initial faith to get out of the boat; however, because Peter was only human, his faith waivered while in the middle of the Sea. Thus, he started to sink. But Jesus reached out to save him. After Jesus saves Peter, Jesus asks, “Why did you doubt?” From there, Jesus guides Peter back to the safety of the boat. The story concludes with all the disciples in the boat worshipping Jesus saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.” Notice how, even in the midst of trials, storms, doubt, and circumstances; Jesus still saves the one who waivers, and, in the end, He gets all of the glory. Had the disciples not been in a storm, had Peter never exercised the faith to walk on the uncertainty of water, had Peter never doubted once he was in the middle of the Sea, and had Jesus not carried Peter back to the boat; Jesus never would have received the glory that He did in this moment. In this moment, the disciples acknowledged Him as the Son of God. This is, or should be, what happens in our lives. God promised us trials in our Christian walk; however, He also promised that He would be there every step of the way. We cannot save ourselves from drowning beneath the weight of the world, but if we are holding onto Jesus—or maybe it’s more accurate to say that He’s holding on to us—we will never have to worry about drowning. Christians do not drown; but, at times, we may begin to sink a bit. Jesus is there, hand in hand with us, making sure that our eyes stay above the waves; that way, we always have a clear view of Him leading us through the storm and into safety.
God never promised that our feet wouldn’t fail; He promised that His wouldn’t.
God never promised that we wouldn’t have moments of fear; He promised to be with us in those moments.
God never promised that we would never feel lost in our lives; He promised that He would guide us as long as we keep our eyes fixed on Him; not the things of this world.
We may sink a bit, but, with Jesus, we can never drown!
**Originally published by Kaylyn Reneé on October 13, 2014**
Follow Your Arrow 