Judge Yourself & Let No One Judge You

Posted on by Hilarey
1 of 3 | Part 1 Judge Yourself & Let No One Judge You | Part 2 Judge No One & Judge Others | Part 3 Judge God

This is the first part of a series. The intention is for two more to follow, and I suspect I’ll have audio by that time. I started a post titled “May the Lord Judge Between Me and You,” but could not rein it in. I think I’ve whittled it down to three long posts, but it’s hardly exhaustive and I’m continually pondering. So much more could be said, and hopefully it just becomes fodder for all the conversationalists and contemplatives on my list. I mostly draw from Romans 14 and Colossians 2:16-23.

Never, never, never

When I was first married, a teenage girl told me she would never go forward for prayer. Everyone in the church would judge her because she needed prayer. She believed they’d be more judgmental about why she went forward than happy that she did.

When I was newly pregnant with my second, I invited a gay man who I worked with to visit my church. (I was pretty ignorant about the topic.) He was emphatic that people would never want him to enter the building.

When Sovereign Ground was in the early stages, a believer who used to be a (strip-tease) dancer told me she didn’t feel comfortable in church. She could never let anyone know her history.

I never understood these situations. Even with all my wonky beliefs, I’d somehow reconciled the notion that all sins are forgiven and we’re fully accepted. Otherwise, I did not see any use for Christianity. I still don’t. I do not have many things about my faith that I learned well the first time, but reconciled to God unashamed was one of them. I’m not sure my faith would have survived had I not seen God as my safe place.

Now that I’m older, I’ve learned more about personality types. Some people—especially those with a precise concept of right and wrong—feel judgement more keenly. Whether or not it’s there.

Although let’s be honest. Other’s judgement is there more often than not. Because it would be idiotic to never judge the right and wrong of something, or not to use our judgement.

Judgy in church

If you can see the Old Testament as a story of God’s enduring love and pursuit of mankind, and the gospels as that reconciliation to God, then most of the rest of the New Testament is how humans are to live together as disjointed people groups and sinful cultures melded in harmony.

Romans 14 talks about one issue preventing our community from coming together: the weaker and stronger judging each other. Just as 1 Peter 3:7 specifically commands husbands to honor their wives as a co-heir made in the image of God, but who live in a weaker package, (either generally less muscle mass, or ability to protect herself in the first century.) I think Romans is also calling attention to the strength differences between all co-heirs who come in different packages. To be gentle with that difference, whether the weakness is mental, physical, financial, or spiritual. A stronger or weaker faith.

In the example in Romans 14, some people couldn’t eat meat because of their conscience. Some had no conflict in their hearts when they ate it. Let not the one who eats despise or hold in contempt the one who abstains, and if you don’t eat it, don’t pass judgment on the one who does. God has welcomed him.

We are to welcome that weaker person—and not quarrel over opinions, reasonings, or disputing matters. Maybe this is saying some matters are disputable, and some are not—but don’t argue over the disputable ones. But if this includes “doubtful things and opinions” like some versions translate—how does that not include most of the Bible?

Can you hear the established denominations cringing? “Not divide over theology!? But how will I know if I’m on the straightest and narrowest way unless I’ve broken relationship over doctrine?”

I don’t know if I can answer that. I guess you’ll have to work out your faith in equal measures of fear and trembling, and unwavering faith.

Back to the vegan barbecue. Because we don’t eat meat sacrificed to idols, it might be possible to skip over the point of Romans 14.

Colossians chapter 2:16-23 gives other examples; instead of meat, it mentions holidays. Let no one judge you according to new moons and Sabbath festivals.

If we ignore the genocides, wars, and famines around the world and try to lay that right on top of 2026 west coast America, our division over holidays is more like avoidance of southerners who ruin sweet potatoes with marshmallows on Thanksgiving. (Maybe we have stronger dissension over Halloween in different faith flavors.) But it’s hard to imagine public humiliation, severing of family, loss of work or exile from the community over Sabbath observance, like the first guy who picked up sticks and was stoned by the community.

Let’s imagine some ways “stronger and weaker faith” plays out in other things we consume besides food. We disagree on ways to entertain and self-soothe. Books and movies with violence, or with sex? Since our personal threshold for titillation can vary and be altered, should you read fiction or watch movies at all?

I remember my fat pastor patting his stomach and ordaining Baptist potlucks while condemning playing cards.

Here’s my favorite way to highlight how Romans 14:3 plays out in modern fellowships:

The church who is deliberate to post on their website that marriage can be only between a man and a woman, and reads statements on Sunday morning clarifying a historical-biblical stance on sexual purity to visitors—you know, just so everyone is sure where they stand—but then hosts ongoing weekly men’s Bible studies for those poor guys who struggle with pornography. One flavor of sexual struggle must be vocally renounced, and the other can be embraced weekly as a men’s group. An identity they can “affirm” and hetero-bond over. (Meaning: no hugging, fist bumps only.)

Selective on the sin you endorse and normalize to the point of fostering it.

Don’t let me judge you.

The person who consumes media is disgusted by the one who shops, calling their excessive consumerism “holy capitalism.” One who is disciplined and rigid in their eating can hardly look at one who tries to soothe their brain with sugar. The sugar addict shames the alcohol drinker. Forget trying to peer around our plank. We not only justify our own stuff, we hang a flag on it. (#nospicebooks = #readlikeme )

Can you party like a first-century Greek? Or is it a church-level-up to forgo drink and dance like the Puritans did? In some respects, it would be easier if we were given a manual that says you can drink 6 fluid ounces of 12% wine that you paid taxes on each Tuesday, after 5 pm, if you are wearing blue.

But the Bible doesn’t lay out every detail. It gives the heart of God’s desire for us to live in community through the example of meat sacrificed to idols—but we are to navigate the unwritten—letting no one judge us.

Rejecting judgement

Religious and apostates alike snap their fingers and tell you to sit at a different table. So Colossians 2:18 warns against letting others disqualify you. People who are puffed up without reason in their sensual mind. Even people who make a living peddling Christian wares. Like well-paid celebrity pastors who sell us their reproducible methods for godliness.

We practice rejecting other’s disqualification by not letting them place rules on us. Keep going in Colossians 2, verse 23 says about rules, “These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made religion and asceticism and severity to the body, but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh.”

Hebrews 13:9 says it is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace, not regulations—and here it specifically highlights regulations about food. Don’t get carried away, though, with any strange teachings that don’t benefit the ones who observe them.

Especially rules that do not promote oneness with God and others. (Like whether or not full immersion is required, or professing that the call of God is irrefutable.) And especially rules that look churchy on the outside—but have no value changing the core, the flesh. For example: girls must wear dresses to church. Men must shave facial hair. Don’t drink Diet Coke. I can assure you as a product of private school—making girls wear nylons, and forbidding aerosol hair spray did not change anyone’s heart about anything.

I take that back. It hardened my heart.

Fully convinced

Here is the clincher. Romans 14:5 says one chooses one day to honor, but another chooses a different day… each one should be “fully convinced in his own mind.”

Move down to verses 22-23 “The faith that you have, keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the one who has no reason to pass judgment on himself for what he approves. But whoever has doubts is condemned if he eats, because the eating is not from faith. For whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.”

Whatever you believe about the details is usually better to keep between yourself, God, and sometimes the intimate relationships you walk life with. You don’t need to tell everyone whether the tax collector at your table has signed the Nicene Creed or not.

And if you’re fully convinced, you are blessed.

James 4:17 it says “He knows the right thing to do yet and does not do it, to him it is sin.” How fascinating—and how weighty—that God has put the accountability and the burden on each of us individually to seek him. Judge yourself.

This always gets me. I think we do know when we are sinning, even if we find a way to biblically justify it. I know from myself and others that humans are creative in justifying anything. One way I can suspect that something is wrong for me, even if I can justify it for myself—is if it makes me cranky when others do it. Example: texting and driving. Yes, I know texting is against the law, so it isn’t actually a gray area. But I only do it when it is appropriately safe. And that asshole is risking my life.

Judge for yourself both the doctrines that divide us and the ancillary details of how you live out your Christian life in your community and culture. It isn’t license to go against things clearly defined in scripture like, “don’t cuss or chew or hang with girls who do.”

For those who aren’t sure, that isn’t in the Bible, which is why we should search the scriptures for the difference between those good practices and non-negotiables. It probably will not be some rhyme you grew up with. But searching scripture for the heart and context (not specific words) will start to reveal God even if it doesn’t set up standards that apply on Tuesdays, after 3 pm when you’re wearing blue.

There is another result of not laying out all the details in a comprehensive rule book. We foster intimacy with God when we come to him for our specific details. Not having a rule about blue cultivates wisdom when we step beyond “to do or not to do” situations and look at every situation critically and compassionately.

Continuously searching the Bible also diminishes the tendency to look up one verse and “claim it as gospel” or use an incomplete sentence as a two-edged sword to cut others down. The Bible is often uses specific examples like meat sacrificed to idols, or wearing a hair covering that no longer apply, but still illuminate a heart-matter in mankind.

The specifics don’t need to be regulated by others. Whatever you do, do it for God in his name. Sincerity in Colossians 3:17 probably opens up lots of things we haven’t been doing, and shuts down all kinds of things we’ve justified.

How to judge yourself

In our natural state, we suck at judging ourselves. Self-reflection can swing from unhealthy deprecation to comparison elevation—where it’s easy to find some shocking glimpses of humanity to elevate ourselves.

As I said in the post Take Luck, you can think you are measuring correctly until you use a scale. Paul said he wouldn’t have known he should not covet unless the Bible had told him not to. Use the Bible to look inside, to uncover your heart.

But to a cursory glance, it also seems like the Bible contradicts itself when it is actually just keeping us from extremes. Counteracting an overcorrection. Preventing us from taking something too far. Examples: Do not judge … but judge a tree by its fruit, trade your burden with Christ … but take up your cross (burden) daily, and do not do your works before others … but show your works so others glorify God.”

So if you are still searching for inerrant prescriptive details, or trying to achieve sanctification through doctrinal precision—you should be careful using the Bible. Yes, I said be careful reading the Bible.

If you’re reading through in a year, you’re probably finishing Deuteronomy right now. I wonder how many of the Old Testament laws contributed to my childhood beliefs toward female virginity. If you take literal readings of Deuteronomy 24-25 outside of the context of ancient culture, you might think it is acceptable to God for a man to take a woman as booty after war, then grow tired of her, for men have more than one wife, and if any of his ladies fail to prove their virginity they should be stoned to death on their father’s doorstep. I don’t think female virginity (specifically) was as important to God as ignorant modern readings indicate. He was actually protecting women of the time from willy-nilly accusations and discarding. In an era where women can have a job outside of the home besides prostitution, laws about your rapist providing a future for you through marriage are unneeded. But the heart of protection over society’s vulnerable should remain.

And stop.

There is a religious OCD manifestation that spins condemnation. Scrupulosity can be focused outward where there is a fixated, obsessive compulsion to reiterate and argue morality. If someone has this, know that they have to close the loop to satisfy their brain. It doesn’t mean you have to stay and listen, but you do have to walk away unaffected.

It can fixate internally as well. Think of the person who wants to die because their something didn’t disappear through repetitive prayer. God answers many of my prayers, sometimes immediately, sometimes through years of laboring, but some struggles continue to prick me like a thorn. And some thorns, like bitterness, have deep, deep roots. We will not be completely rescued from this body of death until we are in the kingdom.

The weekly groups that talk about their struggle with pornography can be liberating because of the strange connection between shame and addiction. Yes, shame and secrecy give addiction a greater hold over you.

But talking about it constantly, affirming it as your personality or unique nature, and essentially fasting and praying over it nonstop, also embeds it into your persona. It becomes the only thing you think about.

Last Sunday the pastor preached on the Flood and said judgement never brings people to repentance. Only grace does. She said this because as soon as the earth was destroyed… Noah planted a vineyard, got drunk, and something dark happened in his tent…

So judgement cleansed the earth of violence, but they started sinning again right away.

It settled something I’ve been struggling with. On the mountain when Moses receives the 10 commandments, the Israelites make a golden calf and God becomes so angry he wants to start over. He wants to wipe them out and start over again, but this time with Moses. “Didn’t you already try that once with the flood, God?”

If you’re unnerved that my heart cries out in question to God like that—wait until we get to the post “Judge God.” But also know that Moses went right into it with God and said, “If you kill these people in the desert, then the other nations will judge you.” I think the point of that narrative is more about Moses than God truly wanting to start over again.

It is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace. It is grace that changes us. Not judgement.

Confession

Sometimes we need help, someone outside to confess to—but in the process of confession you have already done some of the internal work of weighing yourself.

Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster talks about the discipline of confession. He says in preparing for confession, there must be a “definite termination point on the self-examination process.”

Definite termination point. Otherwise, we can easily fall into a permanent habit of self-condemnation.

Why is that not discussed more, or taught in Sunday school? Maybe because we can be fooled into thinking that hating ourselves is not still self-obsession.

Confession can foster accountability. But I think a more valuable purpose is that even though judgement needs to be weighed internally, sometimes the sensation of forgiveness is experienced externally.

Which is why so many people inaccurately equate Christians’ rejection of them as God’s rejection.

What a loss to be so afraid that the hypocrites (humans) in church might judge you, that you cannot come to a place of vulnerability and openness! Because without honesty, there can be no confession, and without confession you remain in bondage to that fear of judgement. How will you heal in shame?

Of course, as I mentioned in the Praying Naked post, it’s right to use discretion and not be fully open in front of all people at all times.

Just as you have to make self-examination/judgment a discipline, make accepting forgiveness and walking in light a similar “conscious discipline.” You look at your sin. You accept that you are forgiven. You turn your back on both the sin and the condemnation.

Even if the sin keeps enticing. You move on from the judgement. Don’t delude yourself into thinking that you’re going to exact appropriate punishment by continuing to wallow in regret of your failure. Don’t think that abasement finishes the work of the cross.

I like the way Mary Demuth describes this in Love, Pray, Listen. She says “As I grow deeper in my relationship with Christ, I’m realizing how fruitless it is to be my own sin-monitor. Even the Holy Spirit, when he convicts, does so with hope; the Spirit does not remind us later of our past failures in an angry tone.” She goes on to describe that micromanaging herself into perfection or “self-introspective despair” is a deeper issue of faith….learning to be Spirit-led versus sanctifying herself.

Don’t let others judge you. Use accurate judgement when considering yourself. Stop. And then move forward.

In All Your Right-Rightness

Posted on by Hilarey

I know several women who hate women’s retreats. It is an interesting event. I’ve had some good times and some not so great.

One I went to as a new mama had worship led by a husband and wife team the first night. He was our church’s worship pastor, and they typically sang together. After the message, the husband dressed up as an old lady to perform a comic skit like a Titus 2 older woman teaching us younger women. He held up his wife’s size-4 Christmas red negligee and said in his falsetto, “If we were having trouble with our husbands looking at naughty pictures on the new World Wide Web thing, we should just wear one of these…”

Forget the fact that I was less than three months from giving birth to my third child and regularly fell into a bed containing every known human bodily fluid… even at age 24, I knew you could not work hard enough to thwart someone else’s contrary desires when they wanted to sin. No one had ever stopped me from sinning when I wanted it. In that moment, I had a violent daydream of throwing over my chair and slamming the door on my way out. However, I’d brought a new friend whom I’d just led to the Lord. I could neither leave her there nor explain to her why we were storming out with our nursing babies.

My daydream must have reflected in my body language because an older woman behind me leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “Shhh. I’ll take care of it.”

Older men and women, speak when you see something. Your voice is needed.

On the last night of the women’s retreat, when only women were there, the worship leader kept declaring that she could feel the Spirit saying to her He wanted to do something really special. She said He was moving in our midst and had something unique for us that night.

I looked at my friend and asked her if she wanted to walk down to the lake to be baptized. She was so new to the faith that she didn’t even know about water baptism. But if it was the next step in declaring her faith—she wanted it.

When I went forward to tell the worship leader that I believed what the Spirit had for us was an impromptu baptism, she froze. When she could finally form a response, it was that she just didn’t know if women were authorized to baptize people. She suggested we wait. She would call her husband, and he would come back in the morning… we could do it first thing. I felt a little too raw to invite back the guy who blamed men’s porn use on the level of their wives’ sexiness, so I opted out.

When we returned to church the following Sunday, after our lead pastor preached on “forgiveness for the brethren” (likely thanks to the older woman behind me who took care of it*) I asked him what he thought about women baptizing people. I was genuinely curious, and completely content to live within the bounds of all the restrictions placed on women.

As a side note, I feel like men in leadership never throw each other under the bus as a professional courtesy since everyone eventually misspeaks and their turn is coming. They call it a conviction to “not touch the Lord’s anointed,” and mostly just preach forgiveness, and it’s easy to be misunderstood from the pulpit. But shepherds who don’t address it publicly are complicit. If an error was publicly clarified when preachers publicly misspoke, we would have more reverent speakers and, more importantly, congregations who were practiced at discerning truth.

My pastor told me he thought it was a good practice that when the Bible is silent on a subject, we should not speak additional rules. He did not see scripture ever saying that women could not baptize someone. Now, I see a hypothetical situation where a woman would not be able to let a man plunge her under the water.

The responsibility and consequence of leading is daunting, so I had no ill feelings toward the worship pastor’s wife who was scared about what role a woman could take. At the time, I merely saw it as quenching the spirit, not a gender issue.

I say merely, but we shouldn’t be cavalier in our interactions with the Spirit who knows the mind of God. We’re warned that it’s unforgivable to blaspheme the Spirit (think repeatedly ignoring and mis-attributing his conviction, even unto death) and Thessalonians talks about extinguishing, quenching or stifling the spirit, maybe by, or in addition to, despising prophecy. Don’t quench the Spirit; we don’t comprehend the ramifications.

But that’s just so scary: walking in the uncharted instead of the written law, letting the Holy Spirit out to play in all the uncontrolled, untamed possibility. What if we can’t control or tame the believers filled with the Spirit?!

We are to discern the will of God


We have mugs and cards that include the middle two phrases of Romans 12:1-2. “Don’t be conformed to the world,” and “renew your mind.” But notice the bookends. As an act of worship—become equipped to discern the will of God.

Here it is: “Present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God; this is your true worship. Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may discern what is the good, pleasing, and perfect will of God.”

Philippians 1:9-10 also tells us the goal is to have the ability to discern, or as the Common English Bible states it, decide what really matters.

I know there’s danger when considering experience as truth instead of a fixed point of reference. And some faith movements base truth on feelings instead of doctrine. For example, “I feel good in my heart about doing this, even though the Bible condemns it.” That’s dangerous, because I know I’m creative enough to justify anything.

So, how do we follow the rules when so much is not specifically written down, like whether or not a woman can baptize someone?

What really matters


A few years ago, my Sunday school teacher was talking about the Sabbath and following the 10 Commandments. I asked him, “Didn’t God prophesy that under the new covenant, he would write the law on our hearts?” He sighed, “Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean we don’t still have to practice the Sabbath.”

It’s a common thought—but both Paul and James cautioned that if we seek to follow one part of the law, in order to be justified by it, we have to follow all of it. Seeking to be justified means you are presenting your case before God to show how worthy you are. But I would also look at it another way. Violating others with your temper while you tout sexual purity makes a mockery of Christianity to unbelievers. Keep the whole law or don’t advertise your holiness.

And even more difficult than the 613 Old Testament laws is the idea of truly embracing what Christ called the greatest commandment. Ingesting the command to love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind and soul—no dark corners withheld. And then swallowing the sincere conviction to love the icky neighbor you think you’re better than as yourself. If we filtered every action through those two, we would not hurt so many others, or so readily justify war.

The right wrongness


I’m not saying to ignore the law. Jesus said whoever sets aside the least command or teaches others to do the same will be the least in heaven in Matthew 5:19-20. But he finishes with the warning that you are going to need more righteousness than those who keep and teach the laws to enter heaven.

What I believe really matters: is don’t scramble to do right before God at the expense of humans.

The law love in Romans 14 talks about holding fast to your conviction regarding what you eat. It had to do with meat killed in ritual worship of gods. Paul says your freedom to eat meat sacrificed to idols could cause a brother or sister to stumble. And if you cause someone to stumble, you’re not walking according to love.

We could look at this verse about meat in a couple of ways. First, we could count it up as a law we accidentally always followed, and brag about how holy we are because our burger was not killed in worship of Jupiter. (Although, the next generation might say it was slaughtered on the altar of capitalism.) Or second, we could argue that the Bible is irrelevant to our modern lives.

But even though we don’t have a pagan temple in the middle of our city sacrificing animals to Jupiter, the heart of this message is still relevant if we sympathize with the emotional reaction a first century, new believer might have felt if they previously took part in those rituals. (We participate in a symbolic and often emotional ritual when we celebrate the Eucharist.) The first-century new convert no longer wants to be associated with their former deity. They see participation as returning to enslavement.

In contrast, you want them to see that they’re not subjugated to the faith system they left. They have freedom in Christ to eat anything and glorify God for the food.

You both actually want the same thing, but there’s an impasse about how to get there. Do you eat the meat to show them your freedom? “Do not destroy, by what you eat, someone for whom Christ died,” and a few verses later, “Do not tear down God‘s work because of food.” Even though you can eat it and they should be able to eat it, doing what is right is not as important as loving them.

Your rules, lack of rules, extra convictions, and obedience to the law should not destroy the faith of someone for whom Christ died. The law of love supersedes.

Here’s how I might see this applying today. One believer is convicted that we should not exploit the crops of indigenous people, destroy the earth we’re supposed to steward with packaging and transporting food, or eat animals who show affection and fear. When I’m with someone who has a strong conviction and looks to me as a believer to uphold their idea of godliness—maybe, according to my faith—I should eat as them as a way to eat with them.

Yet, even this is not a rule. There might come a time when someone is weeping over their plate and they need to be set free. Your dogmatism, coupled with thinking that you are more right, will cause just as much pain by abstaining. Oh, the wildness of the Holy Spirit. You’re just going to have to pray in the moment for direction. But it is from him, you’re going to be free, and it’s going to be in love.

The wrong rightness

Pharisee is a word for evangelicals that conjures an evil villain for anyone who went to Sunday school as a child. And we quickly condemn the caricature as a bad guy. But ignore the bearded guy with fringes on his garment and substitute the word Pastor or Shepherd for the word Pharisee. They were the spiritual leaders and scripture interpreters.

Plus, if you’ve been in a religious space more than a minute, you’re more likely to be a Pharisee than not. Afterall, we are the church.

Ask yourself if all the men who’d dedicated their lives to studying scripture and leading Israel were actually filled with bloodlust and hate. Could some of them have been trying very hard to do what was right before God? I think the Pharisees and Sadducees really wanted to do the most-right, right-thing all the time. And, they desired to lead correctly.

But here’s how that played out. They were so careful to pinch off a portion of their herb garden, to tithe mint and rue and follow the law—but then when their elderly parents needed financial help they said, “Sorry, I already gave to God anything I might have given to you.” Jesus condemned this, but not because he was against tithing.

The Pharisees also wanted to honor the Sabbath. Don’t underestimate how important this was.

Super brief and ignorant summary of a volatile topic: God wanted his creation to rest every seventh day, to let the earth rest every seven years by not farming, and to return all property and release all slaves every 49 years (7×7) and call the following year, the 50th, The Year of Jubilee. This was so important to God that when Israel failed to do it, they were exiled to Babylon for 70 years to pay recompense for the 490 years of disobedience. The exile let the land rest for the missed Sabbaths. Even though there had been some loss of Jewish control over part of the land during the divided Kingdom after Solomon died and the Assyrian Conquest, being conquered and exiled by Babylon was the most decisive loss of Jewish sovereignty. Jewish ownership of the land was tied to obedience to God’s covenant; as promised, it was revoked when they disobeyed.

This is how it looks to me when spiritual leaders and scripture interpreters use Sunday morning to emphasize their stance on hermeneutics. Parsing out every jot and tittle, concerned with reading doctrinal statements to make sure everyone knows where they stand on issues. Angst for correctness while people leave the sanctuary in tears. Good thing you’re right, church, and everybody knows it. You’re doing great keeping the law.

Exodus 19:5-6 | Deuteronomy 4:40 | Deuteronomy 28:1-9 | Joshua 1:7-8

So, sticking to the Sabbath was a pretty significant doctrine when Israel was occupied by Rome and Jesus walked the earth. I think we downplay the sincere angst the spiritual leaders would have felt. Keep this in mind when you picture them insisting on keeping the Sabbath. The stakes are high. The leaders must keep everyone in exactitude with the law.

You are not supposed to work on the Sabbath. And Jesus kept breaking this rule in preference to human need. In this scene, Jesus and his disciples are walking through a field, hungry. Some disciples grab grain and eat it raw. Technically, this is harvesting.

Technically right, and technically righteous.

Yet, weren’t they a little off? Lifting hand from bowl-to-mouth wasn’t less work than lifting from plant-to-mouth.

The Pharisees had so much zeal for correctness; instead of discerning what truly mattered.

So, about those rules…

The Pharisees should have tithed and shown mercy. But when it comes down to it, God desires mercy over sacrifice. Jesus told the Pharisees to ponder the concept because he didn’t come for the people who get it right.

The world will know we are Christ-disciples by our love, but sometimes it seems like churches would rather be known by their doctrinal statements.

I had this concept affirmed on a podcast recently where the guest, Amy Byrd, discussed having to do some internal work about what drew her to a particular denomination where she worshiped for 15 years. She described her belief that “theological precision brought her closer to God, that precision was sanctification…”

So here I wrestle, one foot out of an issue-driven church convinced that sanctification is through adherence to gender roles. The spiritual leaders and law interpreters reiterate doctrines with zeal and fervor. They have good hearts, and much is at stake.

When my husband and I lived in Prague, we spent time with missionaries who often ignored the interpretations of their sending church. For whatever reason, they let me know when they were doing it. I also have friends who went to missionary school. While they were drowning in doctrinal precision, they were told by other missionaries, “Don’t worry, it’s different on the field.” I bet household codes are just not as important in trenches. I think church is just a thing you do on Sunday; the rest of the week is beyond the churchyard.

Christ called John the Baptist a reed in the wind when John doubted and wanted clarification. I feel camaraderie with John.

Because the winds of doctrine that buffet us are also inside the church. The issues the local church wants to exalt will knock you around just as much, and enough wind will uproot a strong tree. I want to bend on the extraneous, non-salvation issues, rather than push someone who Christ died for to the snapping point. After all, Christ did not come to break off the bruised reeds or snuff out the smoldering wicks.

Here’s to living the windy wild. Mercy, not sacrifice. Love, not getting it right.

Oh, but you should still Sabbath…

Of Mystics and Medicine

Posted on by Hilarey

I heard in a recent sermon that “we will not find peace through meditation.” The context was that peace comes from God, not things of the world. It got me thinking.

I was probably around seven when I first started joining my dad in karate. One of my favorite childhood memories was an evening bike ride to the old building where sweaty men punched and grunted at each other.

This would’ve been the early 80s, and a lot of the guys who trained had been GIs stationed somewhere in Asia. They brought martial arts practice home after their enlistment. “Everybody’s Kung Fu fighting.”

They brought home other things as well. One being an affinity for Asian culture, because of the impact on that age of their life. And meditation was a big part of these early karate classes. I remember my dad teaching me to sit cross-legged and meditate before I was old enough to go to school. It was his solution whenever I said that I couldn’t sleep.

It wasn’t like the guided meditation I use now. We sat still and straight, and there was complete silence for at least five minutes at the beginning and end of every class. Mostly silent… sometimes the panting of people who had just free-sparred. Then, a jarring handclap, which echoed through the room, signaled our stop. I remember asking my dad what I was supposed to think about when we were meditating. He told me that was a good question, and I felt great pleasure in asking and thinking about the right thing. His answer was to think of something beautiful, like a sunset or a wave crashing on a beach. But as he was beginning to seek God, he later told me to meditate on scripture.

Since then, most of my religious teaching has been that Eastern meditation like this is very dangerous. So dangerous, you should at least be skeptical and maybe not meditate at all. That’s why I rejected yoga until I was almost 40. It sounds funny out loud, but the idea was that: if the enemy has copied anything of God—you should abstain from it. I spent time in a denomination that believed in cessation. They used the fact that prophecy and the gift of tongues were counterfeited in pagan religions—so it should have no place among believers. If the world finds benefit in it, you should not touch. God is enough. 

Within our homeschool community, there was an analogy that a banker never studies counterfeit money. They focus only on actual, true money so they aren’t confused about what is real when something else comes their way. They know only inerrant truth, and can spot the fake a mile away. This is one reason some faiths discourage higher (secular) education.

This incestuous silo produces church kids who graduate, get married and work for the church bookstore, coffee shop or pastoral staff without ever leaving the churchyard. But at least they marry as virgins! 

A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23 is a sweet little book that was much like listening to an elderly pastor tell anecdotes about why humans are like sheep. I found some lovely nuggets in it, but I realized how pervasive the concept is for our American church not to look outside… our American church.

The author writes, “In the Christian life, most of our contamination by the world, by sin, by that which would defile and disease us spiritually comes through our minds. It is a case of mind meeting mind to transmit ideas, concepts, and attitudes that may be damaging. Often it is when we “get our heads together” with someone else who may not necessarily have the mind of Christ that we come away imbued with concepts that are not Christian. Our thoughts, our ideas, our emotions, our choices, our impulses, drives, and desires are all shaped and molded through the exposure of our minds to other people’s minds. In our modern era of mass communication, the danger of the “mass mind” grows increasingly grave.”

He compared sharing ideas to sharing scab. A parasite sheep transfer by touching heads together in greeting. 

There is truth in his quote. But all I can think about is the great alienation and isolation of people who silently slink out of church. 

Most of the Calvarys that I attended had some flavor of this God is enough or I can do all things through Christ. Therefore, if you had enough God, you never needed a seminary degree, therapy, or antidepressants. One church I knew went so far as to say it didn’t just have to be Christian; it had to be Calvary-initiated in order to be sanctioned. This particular fellowship wouldn’t use the Awana program because it wasn’t written by a Calvary pastor. It was easy for me to live in this “We are the only ones who have the full truth” churchyard because I became a Christian in a Southern Baptist Church, which also thinks they are the only ones saved.

Am I not Christian enough for the Christian club?

The disciples had this thought, too. They wanted to stop other people from driving out demons because they weren’t in the same church clique, I mean, denomination. Interestingly, Jesus said “If they are not against us, they are for us.” He told his disciples to leave that non-sanctioned group of demon-casting believers alone. What a strange concept! That other church down the road is not against us? That public service for domestic violence, who is cleaning up the aftermath of church oppression, is not against the kingdom?! 

When you look at things of the world and find value, remember that every good and perfect gift comes down from the Father of Lights. So if it is good—it is from him. Even if it has a scary or foreign name like psychotherapy or amoxicillin.

I’ve got questions for the pharmacy and questions for the church.

Knowing those names can be lifesaving. And staying relevant to the changing tides of culture is not something to fear if you understand that God has not abandoned this generation. He didn’t abandon the previous one. And he will be faithful to this one even though they’re getting a lot of facial piercings.

Even Paul used idioms and colloquialisms, and Jesus was aware of current sociopolitical events. (Notice how Jesus didn’t rant about the world going to hell in a handbasket or how the people should feel towards Pilate. The application was for followers to look into their own lives and be changed amid their specific sociopolitical situation.)

We now know through science that our brains thrive with meditation and repetitive liturgy. So you can assume God designed it that way. He certainly knows about it because he instituted solutions for our brains in our religious disciplines. In Confronting Christianity, Rebecca McLaughlin writes in the intro, Aren’t we better off without religion, about seven biblical principles built into our church experience that benefit us. Weirdly, they have been shown to benefit humans even if they do them outside of the church experience. Things like gratitude, contentedness, and generosity. Prayer and meditation…

Lean into all of your resources. If it is good, it is from God. Should Christians use AI? Should Christians use curriculum if it was written by a different church? Should Christians read mystics or use medicine? How do we verify what is Christian-y enough?

Let me say it this way: if it benefits humanity outside of a religious context, can the church still touch it? 

Good stewards of the garden will navigate the balance between permissible and beneficial. Not letting our gifts or our resources master us, but accessing everything we need in our sphere.

Sure, you will not find your salvation in meditation, but you will not find it through a Petri dish of church attendance either.

But that’s a prevalent thought in the church. Another quote from a Shepherd looks at Psalm 23, “Some of my friends have been among the most learned and highly respected scientists and professors in the country. Yet about them there is often a strange yearning, an unsatisfied thirst that all their learning, all their knowledge, all their achievements have not satisfied. To appease the craving of their souls and emotions, men and women will turn to the arts, to culture, to music, to literary forms, trying to find fulfillment. And again, so often, these are amongst the most jaded and dejected of people.”

So I want to ask you, what happens when you find believers in the church who are also jaded and dejected? 

Just because it’s holy water, does it mean that we can’t drown?

It creates confusion when the church tells people, “you won’t be satisfied in the world,” but generations are growing up unsatisfied in the church. And you meet someone who meditates, and they are peaceful.

God can use anything in heaven or earth. Don’t avoid education or resources of the world because you only want to be moved by the Spirit. Whether you’re over-educated or over-medicated or undereducated and under-medicated, life is hard. 

You probably won’t find a quick diagnosis and corresponding pill, and you definitely won’t find a one-and-done salvation prayer to provide a life of peace and pleasure. But keep seeking. You will find. But then, you will still have to keep seeking because he’s newly needed each day. 

One of my prayer partners shared a podcast this week. Her elevator pitch was a quote where the podcaster said he was always told you don’t have to check your brain at the door to follow Jesus but over the 25 years he pastored a mega church, he realized you kinda did have to check your brain at the door to follow evangelicalism. If that resonates with you, check it out. 

If you stand on the threshold of the house he describes, and see your kids playing in the yard or street, maybe it’s time to ask, “Is this truly good?” And then let the answer change you in the midst of your cultural or sociopolitical situation. 

Uncovering Paul

Posted on by Hilarey

Soon after 9-11, my oldest came home and prayed for the Muslims because “They make their ladies cover-up their heads.” I’m not sure where he got this, but people were turning all Muslims into caricatures of chaotic evil. It is interesting that this most grievous thing was given to my six-year-old as a prayer-worthy concern.

I first wrote about questioning my pastor regarding head coverings in my post Uncovered, and lately I realize that there have been very few pastors I haven’t asked multiple questions or wanted to dialogue “Why is (this) so?” In that instance, he didn’t know. And I don’t think he really cared. I mean, it applied to a different gender, culture and time than he did. Neither did it affect his authority to operate in the church.

Recently, I found great pleasure reading the book Vindicating the Vixens: Revisiting Sexualized, Marginalized and Vilified Women of the Bible, edited by Sandra Glahn. It was so beneficial (to me) to clarify the context of several Bible stories—and it’s the same reason I’m also enjoying Paul and Gender—Reclaiming the Apostle’s Vision for Men and Women of the Church by Cynthia Long Westfall. I’ve only just started it, and like Vindicating the Vixens, the first chapter is bringing me a completely different world-view/paradigm/cultural lens to Paul.

A fiction author I love once wrote a character to say she had no problem with Jesus. It was Paul she didn’t like. My feelings bordered on mutual—but I’ve been pressing into trusting that God is good. So, if a thing isn’t good—either it isn’t from God, or it’s misunderstood. So I ask, seek, knock, clarify. Lately, that’s manifested as reading Paul and Gender and switching my Bible app to track scripture through “the life of Paul.” So I can press in for the good about his writings.

I already knew Paul’s command in 1 Corinthians 11 to keep a woman’s head covered was more about protection and equality for the first century church than keeping a modern woman subservient in a display of culturally irrelevant, historic modesty.

Still, my head covering ignorance and a western context of systemic power disparity and exclusion made the passage difficult to digest. America’s lens was refined by beliefs like “all women are born that they may acknowledge themselves as inferior in consequence to the superiority of the male sex,” from John Calvin. So of course we looked at 1 Corinthians and said, yeah—Paul wants the women’s heads covered as a symbol of male authority. Men don’t need it since they’re directly under God… See that Calvin quote, and more, compiled by a blog I follow here.

So as we chew on the meat and spit out the gristle from our Western Schism church fathers, I love how Paul and Gender paints a more wholistic backdrop. Here, I hope to lay some of it out and evoke a metaphor of my own*. This is just one take on the passage, and I think people will study it more and more—now that women can officially open a bank account. I have to remember that only happened the year I was born. This is only the first generation of people entering seminary with an inherent interest instead of “Not my gender… doesn’t affect me.”

Our American belief is that a woman would never want to cover her head. In the breathtaking book A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini, the heroine receives a hijab. (My heart swells just thinking of that story.) Her initial reaction is that she feels treasured and protected. This was my first inkling of a different take on head coverings.

But every woman who prays or prophesies with her head uncovered dishonors her head—it is the same as having her head shaved (NIV)

Let’s set the scene of the church in Corinth. Paul and Gender said “A woman of Corinth” was a euphemism for a prostitute.

From other reading, I’ve also understood that the setting is a time and culture where men can penetrate anyone they conquer or are in charge of—and it isn’t considered rape, homosexuality or adultery. It was culturally benign for them, like a spayed or neutered humpy dog. Merely a socially acceptable display of power.

And how do they know if a particular woman is off-limits? Her hair is hidden. A veil is the signal defining which women are protected and which are sexually at risk in this city where men with money and power can dominate anyone. If this conjures #MeToo and Epstein Island…the difference is: it isn’t socially acceptable. It doesn’t sit well with us.

Additionally, the veil maintains social class order. From the women’s perspectives, it’s hierarchy showing who has value. This woman is worthy and protected. This one is lesser, usable, discardable. For sale. We know social oppression was going on because the Corinthian church was jealous and quarreling with each other. Paul suggested they were doing more harm than good when they gathered because one would be drunk and another would go hungry during the Lord’s Supper. Paul and Gender said the law forbid a slave or a prostitute from covering her hair. So imagine the social oppression of a woman who had “no right” to cover up. “Who does she think she is?”

With head-coverings, a certain kind of man can scan a room and immediately see which woman he could have, and who is off-limits. Incidentally, modern men who are terrified of androgynous and transgender clothing still make me think of the certain type of person who wants to walk into a room and quickly ascertain who he could potentially dominate. I think it makes them uncomfortable not to know who they can fight or sleep with immediately.

Ok, still building the stage. Now take the cultural example of human (not chicken) breasts. In some places in the world, a woman’s exposed breasts aren’t immodest. But use our Western sensibilities and imagine a topless (topfree) photo in a magazine or behind a paywall—a picture of a woman’s breasts makes her “available.” You can see her nakedness so you can consider having her, imagine having her, or pretend.

Take that into a house church. They’re using the language of fictive kinship, calling each other brother and sister. And, at home, mom and sis take their veils off. And some guy thinks, “I’m curious what so-and-so’s wife looks like uncovered. After all, we’re, ahem, family.”

Let’s have all the ladies take off their veils!

Now, sister, stand before the congregation. Not a bare-chested home church in Indonesia at the turn of the 19th century, but a gathering in America. You’re about to deliver a message from God, to speak and to prophesy to the congregation. But first, they want you to take off your shirt. Since many of the Corinthians believers are “lower status,” the ex (or current) sex slave you’re sitting next too—I’ve seen her naked. And you’re my family. I should see you. Now stand straight and give the message with uncovered areola and nipple.

Just let that visceral feeling you have land and settle for a minute. It might give you a bit of empathy for the forced unveiling of a Muslim woman or a first century Corinth lady.

Modesty is cultural. If the woman has never had her hair exposed, it drapes her in a sexually vulnerable, naked sensation (and possibly position, depending on the crowd.) In Corinth, it would have felt shameful to some women. As shameful as having her head shaved—the punishment for infidelity and promiscuity. Shame is a particularly difficult emotion in that it is so isolating. Flowing hair would have been highly arousing to some listeners. I imagine some brothers in the church wouldn’t even hear your message if you stood bare-chested before them—even though boobies are available to see anytime, online. (I guess for some it wouldn’t even matter if you’re covered up. They still know you have ’em and they’ll look right through your shirt!)

Now, a slave girl whose entire life has been exposed and marked by her availability, low class and low worth, stands before the crowd and speaks to a congregation. A group which possibly includes her owners. In any other context, they are her social superiors and her uncovered head is the blatant visual reminder.

Paul’s directive is “all you all” women wear veils.

Equality in the church. Protection in the church.

Paul said something different to Timothy regarding the women of Ephesus who ostentatiously flaunted wealth and status. He told them to show appropriate situational propriety in their adornments like braided hair. But to Corinth, he addresses their specific issue and says, “Here, in the gathering of believers, no one is low class. No one is unprotected. No one is sexually available. Listen to her words and don’t look at her like that, Corinthians.”

A man ought not to cover his head, since he is the image and glory of God; but woman is the glory of man (NIV)

Additionally, there’s a contrast with the directive that the men should not cover their head. Paul and Gender suggests that a man of high status would want to be invisible when in a posture of supplication. It was the cultural norm for him to cover that up. Paul says, rather, males are to be vulnerable, with their “spiritual transformation is on display.”

A man’s uncovered head doesn’t bring up sexuality to the imagination of the hearers, it lowers him from his elevated status to equal, to fellow believer. “Exchange a covering of pride for exposed humility, all you men who could dominate anyone.” This would have been as jarring as some of the other things Paul said to them, such as, “You are all the bride of Christ.”

But here’s an even lovelier thing about this letter from Paul! He gives it to the Corinthian church as a non-contentious individual church decision. Because the other churches aren’t dealing with it. Verse 16.

Paul wants the church to learn to discern and make decisions because it will one day judge the world and angels.

Paul and Gender, page 35 says, “Women and men were supposed to be learning to exercise good judgment in ordinary matters in preparation for future responsibilities. Therefore, if women were (correctly) refusing to submit to suggestions or directions to not veil or to remove their veils, the Corinthian Church needed to be convinced that women should be allowed to use their own judgment or follow their own convictions in this matter.”

How can I not love Paul for this?

Westfall also asserts that the veil is a demonstration of her choice, her authority over herself. She writes, “However, as the subject of the sentence, the nominative woman is the subject of the infinitive, the one who has authority.”

It is for this reason that a woman ought to have authority over her own head, because of the angels (NIV)

So the Corinthian head covered is a symbol of her own authority over her own head as she stands before God and the heavenly realm. This is why (counter-culturally) Paul tells a lowly slave girl to illegally wear a veil when she prophesies over the congregation in the privacy of a house church.

This unmarried girl is not veiled to signify the authority of men. She is elevated to equal status to the rest of the congregation before the Lord. Because God uses the things this world despises to shame the powerful. And she gets to make her own choice if she wants to display her hair when she edifies, strengthens, encourages, comforts and instructs the people**.

Diving into scripture like this reveals God’s intentions regarding our interdependence and treatment of each other—not to split hairs over hair scarves and cleavage. When a woman enters the four walls of your church building with more or less covering indicative of the life and culture she lives—remember:

Don’t look at her that way. Listen to her words.

*Thoughts from Paul and Gender are mingled with my own. So if there is something incorrect or irritating—assume it is me and not the book or the author.
**I was raised in a congregation and spent time in churches that believed in Cessation. Looking back now, I wonder if the doctrine has a purpose to maintain control from the top down, with the added benefit of avoiding a text which refers to women instructing men. I cannot find a compelling reason to believe in the cessation of (some) gifts, because prophecy (specifically) is the only gift that shows up in every list I can find regarding spiritual gifts. And, we’re warned to not suppress it. See 1 Corinthians 12:7-11, 27-30, Romans 12:6-8 & Ephesians 4:11-13. Keep reading the first letter to Corinthians to see details about how prophecy should look.

1 Corinthians 14
Vs 3 the one who prophesies speaks to people for their strengthening, encouraging and comfort
Vs 5 so that the church may be edified
Vs 22 it’s for believers
Vs 24-25 it’s for unbelievers to be convicted of sin, their hearts and secrets laid bare, it incites worship
Vs 29 two or three should do it taking turns, it should be weighed for truth
Vs 31 says prophecy is for instruction and encouragement, and all should have a turn

You’ll notice, a few verses later, Paul says women should be silent in church. Which contradicts Chapter 11 if you think Paul tells all women to prophesy and all women to be silent in the same letter. I assume Paul and Gender will cover this, but I haven’t gotten to it yet. The explanation I’ve previously heard is that verse 34 & 35 had to do with women who’d never previously sat in a learning environment or studied spiritual things. They were randomly interrupting the service, calling out questions across the room. He tells them to wait and go home to ask their husbands instead of being disruptive. If you get too fixated on the inerrant letter of your translation—you would think only married women get to ask clarifying questions and single women have to wonder about God until they have a husband. All of chapter 14 chapter is about removing disruptions and creating order while using tounges and prophecy, so this makes more sense than women being told not to speak unless they are prophesying, but men can interrupt willy-nilly.

A Ceremony of Grief

Posted on by Hilarey

When my husband and I were younger, I wanted to adopt. We went through two home studies. We attended classes, borrowed children’s beds, planned with our kids, and informed our neighbors. Finally, we brought in a young sibling group. Health and Welfare wanted a trial situation as part of the interview process. We didn’t finish the trial.

In the aftermath, when I was returning the crib and other items, I tried to hide my brokenness as I stood before the woman who’d loaned them. She looked at me and asked how I was “really doing” in that way of people who actually want to know—and aren’t just exchanging passing niceties. I told her I didn’t think I was doing good. “I might even feel a little…” and here is where I whispered my shame, “…depressed?”

She said, “Oh Hilarey! Of course you are. You’ve had an adoption miscarriage.” She explained that people bring casseroles for new babies but no one normally visits if you lose a baby. We mourn miscarriages alone. She also reminded me that even though I didn’t have the physical loss from my body, we had prepared our home, brains, and hearts for new family members. We had spent time (years) envisioning it and suddenly it was taken away. It was like a death had happened in our family and no one acknowledged it. Since then, if I have known of a miscarriage—I’ve tried to reach out.

A quick blessing for women in the light of Mother’s Day this weekend. Christ wept over Jerusalem and said how he longed to gather her children like a hen gathers chicks under her wings. Any desire you have inside of you to nurture, comfort, or protect—reflects the heart of God. If you have unsatisfied longings for family, you are in that phase of pouring out from your body and lacking rest and comfort for yourself, your children have moved on, or you have been rejected by those you love… May you feel the tender promise that God has not forgotten you.

Death of a dream

It was painful to release the idea of our imagined family. It can hurt to let go of any goal or dream. Recently, I’ve seen different dream-deaths in my close community. Major changes or plans of major changes. My husband moved to a new company and left the one where he’d worked for more than a decade. Even intentional changes can land you somewhere between feeling slightly unsettled to completely losing your footing in the overwhelm of irrevocable change.

Sometimes a dream dies peacefully in its sleep, and sometimes it twists and writhes like a B movie actor.

In my experience, that’s been the pain for me. The death throes. The last gasps of air when you thought the dream had already passed over. Any sudden reminders that you still want it—even though you thought you had let it go.

You don’t always know something is an idol until you cannot have it.

I used to visit with a refugee friend from Iraq who shared a verbal tradition about the story of Jonah in Nineveh. She told me that when the people realized their danger and the depth of their sin, they didn’t allow any man or animal to drink even a sip of water for three days. The mommas would not nurse their babies; they let them cry.

I didn’t believe her. I couldn’t imagine a nursing mom doing that. Forget the pain of swelling, mastitis and your milk drying up. Think of how a baby’s life at the time was already so precarious, infant mortality was likely high, a woman’s future was her progeny, and women risked so much in childbirth.

Ours wasn’t the kind of relationship where I could argue with her or express doubt, and she was so insistent. She assured me that the cows were screaming, and the entire city was wailing and crying out together as one. She’d descended from the people, so she knew.

I pulled out Jonah and reread the story. In chapter 3, verse 7 and 8 the king says, Do not let people or animals, herds or flocks, taste anything; do not let them eat or drink.

It could be literal, but nearly literal would still get the point across. What I received in the exchange was another example of where I cannot help, at least initially, to understand the Bible through the lens I have. In America, we encourage drinking plenty of water while fasting.

Recently, our church had a corporate fast for lent. The preacher kept coughing. Someone brought him a water bottle. I was sitting next to a young girl from east Africa and she looked at me with incredulous confusion. After the service, she asked, “I thought we were fasting this week.” She likely wondered why he callously tempted the entire congregation. (It was not a mandatory fast. People took part in whatever capacity they desired.) Once we talked, I discovered that in her culture, fasting meant nothing touched her lips, food or drink, sunrise to sunset. She ate and drank water at night.

It wasn’t just culture that dictated how Nineveh reacted to Jonah—but contrition. I realized I might not have experienced that kind of remorse, certainly not on such a scale. There have been many times that I’ve felt so much emotion that I wasn’t hungry… but never so much impending doom that for three days I wouldn’t even put a bowl of water in front of the cat. And that sound of my captive animal, crying out and maybe even eventually giving up in order to save energy, would resonate and echo within my soul.

But the communal experience—it would help you grieve with the sounds everywhere. And in the context of this, to mourn their pride and violence with a visceral ritual would be life-changing. You would cross over and never want to return to that sin.

I think our culture tries to hide grief. We keep uncomfortable things like disability and weakness hidden away. To the point than many people didn’t know their president, Franklin Rosevelt, was paralyzed from the waist down. Depending on your church culture, it could be worse. Because feeling pain must mean you aren’t trusting God if your religion promises finances, freedom, health and good married sex when you obey him. You can be sad about it for a minute… but now, where is your joy in the Lord? Haven’t you learned what you needed to from that trial yet, so it can be over?

Of course, some people never leave their pain to the point of wearing it as an identity. I know I have been on all sides of this. Either wondering why someone is still wallowing, hiding how I am not yet better, or letting my loss influence everything I say, do, and think. So we isolate.

Sometimes you need to grieve. And grief takes time. Your time, not someone else’s.

When you can’t move out of the grief

But sometimes the pain is just keeping something already dead connected to a machine. It’s clinging to the way you wish things were. I think we also refuse to mourn because either we hold the dream up higher than what God has for us, or we don’t want to admit failure.

I want to suggest that releasing a dream will be less painful than the alternatives of living in delusion or cultivating a deep root of bitterness.

I see now why some cultures hired mourners to wail at the home where a death had taken place. To voice your own heart-cry and legitimize the pain enough to let it pass. So that when you have mourned, you cross over. You stand up and wash your face. You do not camp in the slightly hidden shame of unprocessed grief.

Lisa Terkeurst writes in the last chapter of her book Good Boundaries and Goodbyes about this when she mentions having “a million little funerals” and opening up her hands to let each one go.

We have very little ceremony to mark the passing of something other than actual death, as a healthy way to grieve. Sometimes we don’t even know we need to mourn the release of a dream.

What I am proposing is to find a ritual to let something go. A sort of liturgy or ceremony to mark an ending. We have ceremonies for weddings and baptisms to show before and after. I think it might be worth creating a way to pass over the threshold and acknowledge the change when a dream dies.

Create a visual reminder of the change in your life. Light a candle, or blow one out, write a ditty, bake a cake, hang a banner… or throw a wake. And do it with your community.

Here is the way Mike Meyer’s character in So I Married an Axe Murderer mourned the end of his relationships: