Tag: Bible

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…

Violence on a Soul

Posted on by Hilarey

My husband and I are reading “The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry.” One night, we came across a phrase that made both of us pause—but we’d had very different reactions.

The phrase was “Hurry is a form of violence on the soul.”

Immediately, I wanted to underline it. I consider words valuable if they create emotion and imagery. Valuable doesn’t necessarily mean true to me. I liked the gut-punch. My husband blocked it. He wasn’t going to decide its validity unless it was quantified. Fortunately, the rest of the chapter did go on to describe.

Violence to the soul, in the case of the book’s argument, killed several things your soul needs. Relationships. Joy. Wisdom. Spirituality. And, it ultimately destroys your soul by killing all that we hold dear.

Hurry is hardly the only thing impacting our souls.

The word of God is one of more powerful things I’ve experienced in my soul. Usually it is the main conduit of healing. People bring shame and the gospel brings freedom when we “rightly divide” truth. Scripture is also powerful for the protection of your soul, and described as a sword, useful for offensive-defense in the armor of God.

Offensive-offense

But I usually see the gospel used differently. Cutting through lies is not the same as cutting people.

Sometimes, the children of God play in the safe and walk around with a sharpened sword of truth irresponsibly. We jab without remorse, to justify our own actions, or to control others.

Hence: Spiritual Trauma and Spiritual Abuse.

The first time I tried to control someone by their soul was when I wanted to tell my sister what to do. I said to her “a fool rejects counsel.” Actually, I said it to her back when she rejected my counsel. And I was serious. I now see it as more sinister than I did at the time. I really thought that everything dripping from my mouth was wisdom from above, since I feared God.

Obeying me is obeying your God

Laws are only useful against actions you can catch. Better to make someone believe they have to obey. If you don’t have to fight someone’s internal conviction, your goals are easier. Think of a parent praying with their children, “Please Lord, make these kids honor you, by obeying me, and go to sleep very quickly without getting up and asking for a glass of water, thereby profaning your name.”

Or a father yelling, “The Bible says to honor your father!”

A slave owner telling the slave to “work as unto the Lord, even with a harsh master like me.”

A husband justifying non-consensual intercourse because “the Bible says, ‘Your body is not your own.’”

A wife telling her husband he isn’t “washing her in the Word,” he isn’t loving her as Christ loved the church.

Anyone telling you, “God HATES divorce.”

Someone who calls you back to pray with them because they don’t want you leaving on your terms.

And basically anybody who justifies hurting you because, after all, “Paul did the things he didn’t want to do, either.”

How do you know it’s abuse?

These are only examples—it’s never beneficial to seek a fully inclusive, all encompassing definition of abuse. If you try to delineate all instances, something will slip by.

You know it though, when it causes violence to your soul.

If you have experienced any of these, it probably felt traumatic. Doing or saying one doesn’t make you or someone else an abuser, though.

A marker of abuse is that it is a pattern. The situation is different if it is persistent and pervasive.

Which is why repentance actually involves stopping the behavior.

The Sawdust and the Plank

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat in church and thought, “So and so totally needs to hear this.” Conviction stings. And sometimes it cuts deep. But, deflecting the injury to someone else is not the solution.

Which is so difficult. Because this Christian thing is supposed to be done in community. It’s our culture that wants a private, isolated faith.

But, letting someone else control you with scripture…that’s gonna leave a mark. Cult leaders always quote scripture better than you. Don’t be too impressed by it, or manipulated into continuing to suffer. You better make sure it’s God’s will for you to enable someone to continue sinning while you make excuses for them to never return to the Lord.

Scripture is not the thing to fear—assuming you get the gist of the Bible and letting others fill in blanks is the danger.

Scripture is for you. It is for you to measure yourself and let it change your heart. It is for the Holy Spirit to reshape your life.

It is also for you to weigh the motives and view the results of other people’s actions—before you allow them into your sanctum, or make pie with the fruit of their life.

It is, at times, for the fearful responsibility of teaching others. Namely, when they are seeking it out from you.

It is not for you to control others. Because no matter how much you memorize it, your heart might not be full of pure motivations. Your heart certainly doesn’t have all the information about them or God’s plan for them.

As Lisa Terkeurst pointed out in the book I can’t stop referring to (Good Boundaries and Goodbyes): the first sin happened after the enemy misquoted God’s words for his own purpose. And twisting scripture was the primary weapon Satan used against Christ when he tempted him in the desert.

So be careful anytime you feel like someone needs to see a scripture because you want a change in their life. Whether it’s taping up a verse on the fridge for your roommate, or texting unsolicited snippets to your grandchild.

A prophecy of Christ’s coming was: “a bruised reed he will not break and a faintly burning wick he will not snuff out,” so why do we justify using scripture like a weapon: two to the chest and one to the head?

Go to scripture for healing, let it guard you. Work on the plank. When people see YOUR thriving and victorious life, they may ask about the reason. Then, you can show them where the arsenal is.

Take Luck

Posted on by Hilarey

“Take Luck” was from a skit by stand-up comedian Brian Regan, where he talked about intending to say, “Take Care,” and then switching to “Good Luck,” halfway through. It’s a funny one.

I think of it when sending a meaningless salutation. To offer without really offering. Take some luck from somewhere, and have it. Keep it with you. I also think of his skit when I see generic signs that say something like, “have faith” or “be blessed!”

Have faith in what? Be blessed how? Take some luck with you—I think there’s a bowl on the counter.

James 2:16 says, “and you say, “Good-bye and have a good day; stay warm and eat well”—but then you don’t give that person any food or clothing. What good does that do?” It’s like when you pass a homeless person on a frigid night, on your way back to your car, and you call out, “Stay warm!”

There is power in words and power in prayer, and it is significant when you speak a blessing over someone’s life. That’s different from when someone has a need, you see it, and you have a tangible item like a spare coat. Something to hold on to.

Substance

Have you ever experienced making up a story about someone in your head? You go into the creepy part of Wonderland (down a dark rabbit trail.) And then when you see the person, or talk to them, you know right away that none of it is true. Your theory had no substance. Nothing to hold on to.

All it took was a conversation to find out the truth.

This used to be the annoying thing about simple romances to me when I was a young girl… especially because I value (kind) directness. I could never get behind a heroine whose entire conflict was a misunderstanding or an unspoken clarification. If they would just have that conversation already, there would be no book.

I have another quote from Good Boundaries and Goodbyes by Lisa Terkeurst, since it’s what I’m reading right now, “Relationships often die not because of conversations that were had but rather conversations that were needed, but never had.”

It’s true, we can write out scenarios that seem like reality. And then a bit of truth, not even a deep dive, and we find out differently.

Making it up

We watched a few episodes of the Good Place and their funny world-building includes a heaven that “no one could imagine.” They have a picture in heaven’s office of a guy who got really stoned and said, “This is what I think heaven will totally be like.” He’s heralded as the guru who got the closest.

It’s meant to be hilarious, but many people treat things of God, and eternity this way.

Most people believe they are critical thinkers, not emotional. But faith without substance is stoned-luck. No matter how critically you look at the void, it’s still empty.

Scales and measuring cups

My friend mentioned something to me that has proved itself true again and again. She said she thought she was eating in her caloric budget until she started writing things down. I’ve seen it myself. Recently, I saw somebody order something in a restaurant that looked delicious. So I tried to copy it at home. I made a light shrimp and fettuccine salad. But when I added it to MyFitnessPal, it was 800 calories. The restaurant had served double. Not exactly a light lunch.

And even more than just logging what you’re eating, you can think that something looks like an appropriate portion—until you weigh it. It’s doubtful that the average eater actually knows what 25 grams of fiber looks like over the course of a day. Due to years of cooking, I can judge weight and volume close to accurate and often cook without measuring. But when it really matters, I still get out the scale.

So, upon closer inspection, you see details more accurately when you actually weigh yourself against the Bible.

And let’s be honest, another interesting correlation is that the days I don’t want to obey or know the scale… those are the days I don’t measure food. So there’s a submission/discipline factor of not wanting to know if I measure up. Sometimes I just want to eat like an asshole. This is likely a larger contributing factor (besides laziness or time management) for not looking in the Bible. We don’t want to see if we measure up.

But here’s the problem, someone who is a Christian, but doesn’t read the Bible, is really susceptible to the weird tangents of Christian religion. Taking someone else’s word for what the scriptures say inevitably lays the groundwork for future deconstruction. This is what children do: accept the world through the lens and experience of those over them. This is not what a maturing Christian does.

You don’t want to have a void or ungrounded faith that can’t weather storms. Take some luck, and keep it with you. Care for it.

So, you can be frustrated with what you think about God. You can be frustrated with what you think about the church. But if you’re not holding it up to a depth of study in the word, you are not frustrated with substance. You’re following a rabbit down a hole. If you look at the way the letters to the church explained the right way to live—and then you see how Christians are disobeying—that’s something to hold on to.

I used to get annoyed when I saw a verse partially quoted. (Romans 8:1a) But then I realized that the chapters and verses were added. So even memorizing a whole verse can miss the larger context. That isn’t even to mention re-wording and misquoting. I’ve seen people defend mis-worded scripture with tears. This happens when you “already know what it says” before you read it. But that’s another topic.

I love a quote I heard from Theologian Preston Sprinkle. He says, “Let the strength of your conviction reflect the depth of your study.” Pick the mountain you’ll die on.

You are doing yourself an extreme disservice if you hold your convictions tight in your head and heart, without opening the Bible to check their weight.

So the point is, get out the scales. Grab on to something solid. Read for yourself.

Praying Naked

Posted on by Hilarey

Even though I only wanted to escape eternal burning and torture, I know my 11 year old conversion was real, because after, I felt compelled to promise to God that I wouldn’t lie anymore. A handful of years later, when I tried to walk away from my faith, I’d actually become so bad at lying that I had to intentionally practice.

I always believed honesty was the best policy: withhold nothing. But truths can lose their significance and feelings change, so it isn’t always wise to unwrap everything. We can give “honesty” just as a way to cut people, with no desire for reconciliation. Because of this, I’ve been thinking of the proverb that calls it wisdom to conceal something, rather than separating close friends.

I know it is partly due to my Enneagram 4 personality to intensely crave authenticity. Sometimes I need to let that go, and grow in this area. Not everything needs to be out on the table all the time.

Because, it isn’t safe to be honest with all people. Sometimes your secret is dismissed as insignificant. Pearls trampled.

Sometimes it’s one-sided. People will expect your vulnerability even though they withhold.

And sometimes, it’s held against you forever. Your honesty will not be forgiven. Picture a doctor who makes a mistake, or the first person to be sorry in a fender bender.

I am as quick to apologize as I am to be honest. And I’ve been told females apologize more. And of course it’s always that question, nature or nurture? When I think about the weird passage in 1st Timothy chapter 2, how a woman should remain quiet—because Adam was formed first and Eve was deceived—I assume women have been apologizing since the fall. Even though man was not deceived (he willfully disobeyed) his first reaction was to cast blame on woman. So our go-to from childhood is, “Sorry about everything, boys. What else can I do to make it easier for you to not sin?”

Joking aside, it isn’t safe to be truthful with all people. But with a warning, admitting that you were wrong is a path to mutual healing when you have actually wronged someone. (If you’ve been wronged, you can heal without them.)

Honesty for honesty’s sake

One thing for sure, our God is not in the business concealing sin without dealing with it. So I definitely don’t mean withholding justice. But that isn’t the same as honesty for honesty’s sake. I heard author Tiffany Bluhm speak this year and she said, “Justice is what love looks like in public.”

There was a book I read a few years ago called Three Kings. It talked about the different ways of handling sin in leadership of your church. It compared Saul, David and Absalom. Basically, it said to not touch the Lord’s anointed. To be like David, and let God remove Saul.

I agree with the book because God did remove Saul. But I disagree in that God didn’t keep David silent or Saul’s sins covered while he did it. The book indicates that God should do the exposing. Too often, people have tried to protect the image of God, or the image of church, by hiding things. If you think you need to protect, falsify, or coverup sin in the body—then you’re either the petri dish or the cancer.

I am honest in my blog and fiction writing, even though it bites me sometimes, because I more frequently hear how helpful and healing it is to others. Certainly, more damage has been done in the church by hiding how we really feel and think and act. So, I press on and work through my reoccurring dream connected to writing: I’m in a crowded public place and need to relieve myself, usually, diarrhea. Typically, I’m desperately looking for a private place. Also typically, the only thing available is a widely exposed toilet where everyone can watch. I wake wondering, how much of my crap should I show?

I’m still working that out.

Laying yourself bare

Before I accidentally deleted my blog, a short post with this same name (Praying Naked) was the most popular on my site. I’ve added several thoughts as I’m now more prone to look at things from multiple angles. Ten years ago, when I first wrote it, someone had told me that I should never pray naked… he said it was especially disrespectful doing something base, such as using the toilet. I guess, because of poop.

I bristled right away. But I wasn’t sure why. Women don’t actually have as much luxury as men for privacy. Even sex is more invasive and intrusive. Pregnancy means you share everything, not just your body with another human. Because sometimes you share it with whoever wants to be part of the miracle by touching you. Doctors are always up inside your business. And then when you give birth, your body will be put on a pedestal for others to watch. You’ll be laying on your back so it’s easier for them to see. And during delivery, sometimes, you poop.

While I discussed that warning to not pray on the toilet, my son told me something he’d read. It was you stimulate a heart change if you physically humble yourself before God.

Basically, the point was to kneel when you pray so get the most out of it. As a result, my son said rarely had time to pray, correctly. I guess the infirm would be out of luck.

Here’s the danger for teachers: humans love dogma and a repeatable self-help path. There seems to be a hope in formulas that might bypass the struggle of faith, with zero sacrifice, and with results one can replicate. The person who found that heart change by kneeling might have had a sincere experience. Maybe also did the man who told me to never do something base while talking to God.

But, I’ve had Norovirus. Anyone who’s had that, dysentery or hepatitis has prayed on the toilet.

Even though mankind started off naked, the idea does come from somewhere. There were laws regarding nakedness in the Old Testament. For example, the last verse of exodus 20, warns them not to expose their privates to the temple steps while they walk up them.

I think the point of laws like that were to make us realize who we approach. God Almighty should induce a little fearful awe. Mount Sinai could not be touched without penalty. The law had to come to do that.

It shouldn’t stay there though. We now approach Mount Zion through Christ. You can call out to God, even with a gross body. You do not need to get dressed and move to your knees, be healed from infections, and then stoically place your palms together. You don’t need to get your shit together first.

The ridiculous idea of needing to cover your nakedness to be presentable to God is worse than missionaries trying to decorate their proselytes in their home fashion. Hiding your baseness from God is your own version of fig leaves, of covering up your own sin. There was a fig tree I loved to climb as a girl. But the leaves were itchy—I couldn’t stand them against my skin. There might be different varieties of fig trees, but the thought of covering my nakedness before God stays with me as a second-rate, hydrocortisone option.

Of course, if this intent is misconstrued, some might think I advocate irreverence. Or that we shouldn’t bow before him. I think if we had a clear picture about what was happening during prayer, we wouldn’t even go to our knees. We’d fall to our face.

We should have reverence. Hebrews 5:7 says Jesus’s prayers were answered because of it. But a few chapters before that Hebrews 4:13-16 says no creature is hidden from his sight. All of us are naked and exposed. Nevertheless, he is a high priest who understands our weakness and we are told to draw near with confidence to receive mercy, grace and help.

No creature is hidden from his sight, naked and exposed

It’s silly to withhold anything from him, even the unsightly functions of the human body. A young woman once shared with me that the comment about not speaking to God while you went potty felt so oppressive, it broke her heart. Because, in her busy life, the toilet was the only minute she had alone with God each day. It is interesting that the Bible mentions not even nakedness can separate us from him.

A book that ministered to me a few years ago was the Liturgy Of the Ordinary by Tish Harrison Warren. It includes a pretty visceral prayer:

“Observant Jews use a prayer called the Asher Yatzar, which they recite after using the bathroom. Blessed are You, Hashem our God, King of the universe, Who formed man with wisdom and created within him many openings and many hollows. It is obvious and known before Your Throne of Glory that if even one of them ruptures, or if even one of them becomes blocked, it would be impossible to survive and to stand before You (even for a short period). Blessed are You, Hashem, Who heals all flesh and acts wondrously.”

The most powerful prayer warriors I know don’t worry too much about how to approach the God they dearly love. My two prayer partners arrive often and entitled, knowing God will hear them, trusting their father so much that they don’t need him to do what they ask in order to continue in faith. Often because they were told to pray without ceasing and entitled because they believe that they can boldly approach the throne of grace.


Tradition teaches us to bow our heads and get on our knees. Jesus lifted his eyes. Keep in mind it is the condition of your heart which is important—not yoga poses or deciduous matter on your privates.

Remember who you approach: God Most High. Remember why you approach him: Christ made it possible.

Beyond that, I doubt God is any more fazed by your baseness than impressed with your lovely new outfit.

Just as I am

There is a deep need to be known fully and accepted fully. The possibility of the first and not the second, motivates both unneeded honesty and shame. What we are ultimately searching for though, is to have complete naked vulnerability before God. To pray without any shame or anything covered between you and him.

Sometimes it just seems more real when the exposure and acceptance comes from others.

Just make sure it is the right amount of exposure to the right person. Because, I don’t see God’s solution to our sin as returning to the garden nakedness when we go to heaven. Not everything needs to be laid bare to everyone.

Even though nakedness and the tree of life started off our story—the next time we eat of the tree we will be covered in white robes. Figurative or literal? I don’t know, but lift up your eyes and do not be ashamed. Your nakedness is fully seen, known and accepted. He’s got you covered.

Your Villain… a Caricature

Posted on by Hilarey

Is the enemy chaotic-evil and unredeemable?

I learned in a writing class that no one is a hundred percent evil, so, writing your novel’s villain that way will actually make him less threatening. That kind of antagonist is comical—a caricature like Snidely Whiplash.

If you aren’t old enough to remember the cartoon that made me fear handlebar mustaches, Wikipedia says of him, “Whiplash is obsessed with tying young women to railroad tracks; he has no reason to do so and realizes no gain, profit or advantage, but is simply compelled to do it.”

The writing class suggestion was to show your villain do something kind. The instructor mentioned a scene where a bad guy stops on the way into the house where he planned evil, to pet a kitten. (I think the example came from a book or movie, but I can’t remember where.)

Even better, give the killer something he loves. Or a complicated emotion, like a desire to protect something in the midst of his mayhem. This makes him more realistic, and therefore, scarier.

I’ll tell you, I have met abusive people who were overly dramatic and affectionate to their dog in public. “Animals trust me, you should too…” as though dogs don’t lick an abusive hand. So, making the antagonist more realistic this way rang true for me when crafting fictional characters.

Relatable

Besides the realism, another reason a complicated villain becomes scarier is that you can see yourself in them. But isn’t it unnerving if they’re too redeemable? It’s hard to cheer at their destruction if you see yourself in them.

We want God to take us as a package and hope the redeemable outweighs the rest. He wouldn’t annihilate me if there is something redeemable, right? (Part of coming to faith is realizing that the only thing redeemable is Christ’s covering, and any good you’ve done was a work he created you to do.)

But what if that measurement of being redeemable tipped in favor of someone you hated? Could you still call them an enemy or go to war with them? Could you desire their destruction?

Un-relatable

I think it would be too hard to justify war if you thought of the people as redeemable. You need to view them as evil with nothing salvageable. And I think one way we do this is to disregard individual faces, to see them as a whole. They are collectively unredeemable.

And the first step to seeing them as a collective is to name them.

Us and them

I think of conversations I heard when I was a child regarding people we’d gone to war against. Pejoratives serve the purpose of naming, grouping, and defacing. They enable the speaker and the listener to disassociate the humanity of the one being discussed. It tips the scales. It lowers them from your status of being made in the image of God, a divine image bearer.

You might never use a slur but still say the nationality, religion, sexuality or politics of your “enemy” like it is a cuss word and mean the same thing.

You make them a caricature of a villain.

But maybe even Russians love their kids, too

I remember my grandma’s fear when she mentioned The Bataan Death March by the Japanese during World War II. It’s a story that loses some of its shock, though, when you look at the United States’ inhumanity during the Trail of Tears. For several summers we hosted Japanese exchange students, and they were no longer some less-than-human group from a foreign place. They were kids. With faces. If you want to see this working for Israeli and Palestinian teens, check out Friends of Roots.

Governments plan and execute war. Unless we are the government, our responsibility is different. Psalm 131:1 says, My heart is not proud, LORD, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me.

The matters I should be concerning myself with are how I think of and speak of other humans. Both those in my sphere, and those on the other side of the world. Even if the other group wants to destroy my country, take my money and my freedom. Even if they are my enemy. If I only love those who love me, what good is that to me? Just because salvation is free, why do we think everything after is easy?

Made in the image of God

I can speak from experience what it feels like to be less than. A false doctrine I had to put into words to unearth was that God made man for himself, and woman was a trinket that he made for his beloved (man). I really stumbled over 1 Corinthians 11:9 when I was a young mom coming back to Christ. Learning that woman is made in the image of God, not just created for man, gave me identity and joy. And when man does not value woman as equal, he is not acting out the hand of God. It elevated me, and I’ll never let that identity go. We’re a tool of the enemy if we ever let anyone believe they are less than a divine image bearer, with equal worth and status.

A fool

I used to be confused why Proverbs spent so much ink on defining and calling out who is a fool—but Jesus said if you called someone a fool; you were in danger of hell-fire. It felt like a contradiction since I could see so many fools by Proverb’s standards.

Partly from the Bible Project’s Sermon on the Mount series, I’ve come to understand Christ’s intent as: don’t even start down that path of lowering someone in status. Declaring someone unworthy is the first step to murder. How you speak of your antagonist is one way to live out the call to love your enemy, as we’re told to do in Matthew 5:43-48. And the names you use to describe your enemy can either deface them or remind you of their God-given status.

We’ve been told to judge people’s fruit and actions because there is demonic evil in the world. Still, discerning evil does not excuse you from loving your enemy. If we have the law written in our hearts, we have different expectations, regardless of how the world operates.

My point is to tread carefully anytime you use labels for yourself and others. Because that path leads to disassociating their humanity, their status as image of God.

All humanity is capable of evil

No villain is a caricature. We are each capable of atrocity by starting down the path of looking at someone as less than ourself. We should remember Christ’s warning wherever we think, “They’re an idiot.”

We should think of the danger of hell-fire when we use a slur or dehumanize a group either for their political agenda, nationality, or religion. Yep, even their religion.

Well, unless you are not a bondservant of the Lord’s. Then you can do whatever you want with your body, mind and money.