While I Was Out--a bunch of stuff you may have missed

It's s snow-covered day here. Being from central Texas, this still always feels like a miracle, even as the Pittsburghers go about their day as any other. All I want to do is watch the snow fall and drink hot tea. But, alas, the city has not gotten the memo that snow is some kind of otherworldly eucatastrophe, so I am pulled along in its busy wake. 

Since I didn't update this site for many months, there was quite a bit of work that never made it here. I have updated the essays and interviews site with some (not all) of the works of the past many months, but wanted to mention here a bit of what I failed to post. 

First, the book. End-of-the-year lists are coming out these days and though my book was technically a 2016 release, it released so late in the year (December of 2016) that many count it as a 2017 book. I am very grateful and honored for LoTO to be included on Missio Alliance's Top 15 Essential Reads of 2017. And In All Things 2017 Top Book List. I am also so honored that it won an IVP Reader's Choice Award. (Also, IVP is offering discounts on all winning books so check that out.) If you haven't bought the book yet, please do. If you have, it makes a great Christmas gift. Give it to a friend with a loaf of bread or homemade jam. And there shall be much rejoicing and revelry and frolicking and ballyhoo. 

On this year anniversary of the book release, I want to thank all those who have read, shared, reviewed, and supported the book. I am very grateful to you. 

In March, I got to review The Perils of "Privilege" for CT Magazine (my review is called Check Your Privilege Obsession). I had not heard of this book until CT asked me to review it, and I was wary that it might be a kind of anti-privilege (over) reaction. But it was a really important take on a conversation that we really must (but often aren't) having. It adds important complexity to the ways we use and misuse this evolving, and increasingly weaponized, term. Check out my review and the book.  As a side note, I was stopped by more strangers when reading this book than any other I've ever read. People on airplanes, at coffeeshops, at the park would lean over to me and say, "Hey, excuse me, what are you reading?  What is it about?". They glimpsed the title and were intrigued. Suffice it to say, this is a topic people are hungry to talk (and read) about. 

I was also grateful to get to write this little piece on home (with a cameo by Lyle Lovett) for Jen Pollock Michel's site. Check it out and her new book Keeping Place.  In April, I published a piece at The Well called An Open Letter to Men Who Broke the Billy Graham Rule, as a way of thanking men who have invested in me. And in October I wrote a piece for IVP and the Apprentice Gathering (which I spoke at in October) called Imagining Orthodoxy. In it, I explore the relationship between beauty and truth. I really like this piece, even though I think about seven people read it, mostly my ever-loyal friends. In general, I'm interested in the relationship between orthodoxy and the imagination, in doctrine and desire. So if you missed it, check it out. 

Lastly, I get asked often why I am for women's ordination. It's a completely valid question, but also requires quite a lot of explanation and exegesis...and is a rather long story. I wanted to get the basic ideas in one place and accessible to people without having to write a book. So my friend Shane Blackshear was kind enough to host my husband and I on his podcast Seminary Dropout so we could tell our story and present some of our argument. Find it here: A Biblical, Historical, and Pastoral Defense of Women In Ministry
 

(Also, my husband and I --stupidly-- did this together in the same room, as opposed to both on skype with headphones, so the sound was a bit off. I'm sorry for that. You still mostly get it all; it's just choppy). 


 

The Women, Internet, and Authority Trilogy (if you will)

Talking over ideas about bloggers and church history with a friend in a coffeeshop, I had no idea what trouble that conversation would get me in.  I essentially said, "You know, if people care about orthodoxy, they should actually seek to empower women institutionally." (But it was an hour long conversation, so I  suppose there was more to say than that.) My friend, who is an excellent editor, said "Hey, you should write on that for us," at which point, if either of us had any sense at all, we should have run screaming from the building in terror. But we didn't. I wrote the piece.  We worried it may get some push back from complementarian men, who might think I was trying to trick them into ordaining women through the back door. And it did. A little. The piece provoked an expectedly large response. It resonated with many people. Most of the pushback came from female bloggers and some progressives, which honestly caught me a bit off guard.  Anyway, I think I got more negative (and at times, vitriolic) responses to this (original) piece than most anything I've written, but it did indeed start a long, needed, broad, and ongoing conversation about women, church authority, ecclesiology, celebrity, "personal branding," and evangelicalism, and, for that, I am very thankful (And, as I said, it also got a lot of very positive responses, and in some cases, motivated institutional change and debate, for which I am also very grateful) . 

As a word of caution, my argument in the original piece was unfortunately misrepresented and twisted by some (even if unintentionally), so please don't take someone else's word about what I've argued here.  I will post the original piece and two follow up pieces together. I do not plan on writing on this again (if I can help it), but if you want further information on this argument, I'd point you to the interview section of this site, where there are several podcasts where I address the topic. 
My desire in all of this is that the church is served and strengthened and that she have female leaders that are every bit as institutionally and ecclesially vetted, credentialed, trained, equipped, celebrated, sent, accountable, and empowered as men.  
The original piece in CT Women: Who's In Charge of the Christian Blogosphere? 
The follow-up (a few days later) on my site: A Response
And finally, months later, this on the In All Things site (Thank you to In All Things for devoting a series to this topic and to Katelyn Beaty for helping me edit and shape this piece): A Response to the Responses: On Women, Celebrity, Institutions, and Authority

New CT Piece on Authority in the Church and Social Media: A Response to Critics

I had a piece come out in CT Women last week. You can find it here.

This piece began months ago as a conversation with a friend over coffee and was written with a great deal of hemming and hawing over the last several months. 

When it finally came out, it created quite a splash and not a little controversy. The reaction was far more vitriolic and far more widespread than anyone had expected.  I expected folks to disagree (especially about ecclesiology). I did not expect the sorts of criticism I got, nor the wide-ranging reactions or wide-reach of this piece.  To say the least, it seems to have hit a nerve. 

Though I rarely write on my site and mainly use it to post articles in edited venues, the response to this particular piece has been so overwhelming that I want to address a few things here.  

First, there have been hundreds of positive responses to this essay, and I deeply appreciate the tweets, emails, and messages I’ve received from both friends and strangers about this piece. The responses I’ve heard of from pastors, denominational leaders, fellow writers, and readers to my piece have been profoundly encouraging to me. This piece helped spark conversations in denominations about “more ecclesially located avenues in our church for gifted and trained women teachers and leaders”  (in the words of one pastor who wrote me) and, for that, I am deeply grateful.  (Also, if you have written me and I have not gotten back to you, I’m sorry. I have gotten a lot of messages and have been offline a lot. I do appreciate the encouragement!) 

There has also been quite a lot of criticism of the piece, mainly on twitter.  I am not going to address every bit of criticism here (which would be impossible). Some of the criticism has seemed unfair or disengaged from the actual text of the article. Some questioned why I wrote primarily about women (even though the piece was commissioned by CT Women for women.) Others seemed to ignore important qualifications and nuances I included (or at least tried to include) in the piece.

That said, some critics have provided helpful criticism and questions that I think are really important to acknowledge and address. The thoughtful criticism I’ve received from careful readers is a welcomed and, indeed, needed part of this conversation. There are three objections in particular that I think are worth addressing: 

1. Many have pointed out that the problem I’m addressing of public teachers being disembedded from larger institutions and accountability is not a new problem for evangelicalism or for Protestantism more generally.

This is most certainly true. I am under no illusions that the “crisis of authority” I describe is a product of social media, even if the advent of the internet yields its most recent iteration.

My original draft for this piece was something like 3,500 words long. Most web essays are 800-1200 words. I was committed to keeping this piece under 2,000 words, but because of that-- and because the piece was specifically in a series addressing women’s discipleship-- I couldn’t address the longstanding cultural and theological trends that have brought us here. 

In the original drafts, I had much more about the printing press and crisis over authority we saw in the Protestant Reformation. However, in this final version all that remained was one sentence: “Just as the invention of the printing press helped spark the Protestant Reformation and created a crisis of authority, the advent of social media has catalyzed a new crisis in the church.”

In the original draft I wrote:
 
“Most scholars agree that part of the sociological impetus behind the Protestant Reformation was the invention of the printing press. Changing ideas about church authority coupled with the ability to disseminate these new ideas en masse created a crisis of authority: Who gets to speak on behalf of the church? Who decides what is true Christian orthodoxy? 

These questions loomed large, yet even in this new world of Protestantism, there remained a belief that teachers and pastors need accountability, hierarchy, and church governance. Though they rejected their contemporary Roman Catholicism, Calvin and Luther often reached back to earlier church councils in their teaching; Calvin proclaimed “no one can have God as father without the church as mother;” and Luther saw church discipline as one of the marks of the “true church.” In other words, the Reformers still believed that authority came from the church and from the scriptures. They still maintained boundaries on what leaders could and could not teach if they were to be considered Christian leaders. They also required teachers to be trained theological scholars….Even among the Reformed, there remained a deep conviction that orthodoxy was to be protected by the church and that the church itself could confer or revoke authority.”

Just this week I came upon this quote from an early 20th century Jesuit priest named Alban Goodier, commenting on the challenges presented by the printing press:

“The multiplication of books, with almost no supervision, the opportunity given to anyone to teach what he liked, the leaving of the simple and uneducated at the mercy of any clever sophist, has so added to the spiritual confusion that even the spiritually-minded has often been compelled to ask: What is truth'?”

He’s essentially wrestling (with old media) with the same tensions I find myself wrestling with about new media. There is nothing new under the sun. 

Yet, even after advent of the printing press and the Reformation, there was still a notion that public Christian teachers were held to higher standards of accountability and that the church was a protector and preserver of orthodoxy or “the deposit of faith.” 

However, crucial questions remained about church governance but were compounded by revivalism, American individualism, anti-institutionalism, and what Nathan Hatch calls the “democratization of American religion.”  (I touch on this a bit in the piece by naming my concern about one iteration of this, megachurch pastors. However, all of these trends pre-date the rise of megachurches.)

The current evangelical resistance to church authority was certainly gotten honestly and did not emerge out of nowhere.

Given the response I have received, I now wish I’d included more about these broader themes (even if it made the essay longer and more boring to those who, unlike me, don’t find 4000 words on the printing press irresistible :-)).

Still, it’s worth noting that these latent trends in evangelicalism are accelerated and more potent combined with the radical individualism and democratizing forces of new media, mass-marketing, and “personal branding.”  

An early draft of the piece asked the question: "Does every Christian with a computer hold equal authority to teach and lead others in the doctrines and practices of the church?" This is certainly not a question that applies only to women. I'd love readers of this article to wrestle with this question and, if the answer is no, ask how we faithfully draw lines when determining who is a teacher and church leader, and how we draw on the truth of scripture and the wisdom of church practice to do so. 

There is so much more to be said about all of this—literally volumes and volumes can be and have been written on this. I hope this is just the beginning of a broader conversation. 

2. Some have felt that my piece is disempowering of lay people. If I communicated that in any way, I apologize. 

I have benefitted immensely from the writing and teaching of lay people. If you read my book, you may have noticed that I quote many, many lay people. I named my daughter after Flannery O’Connor and Dorothy Day, both of whom were lay writers and are heroes of mine. My life has been quite honestly changed by the teaching and ministry of lay Christians. 

I tried to acknowledge lay writers in my piece, saying, “To be clear, I am not suggesting that a woman must be ordained in order to blog, publish, or speak. A formal recognition of authority and accountability can be called commissioning, endorsement, partnership, or something else.” This part of the essay is focused on women, but I have benefitted from the writing of both women and men who are not ordained. 

Yet, this new technology gives some lay people such broad reach and influence that they essentially function as public teachers and preachers for the church. This reality coupled with a low-church ecclesiology of many evangelicals may mean that lay leaders with tremendous influence as public teachers are in no church, a church that does not practice church discipline or oversight in any meaningful way, or that simply has no standards of belief or practice whatsoever.

The greater the influence and power a person yields, the more explicit, public, and formal structures of accountability and transparency need to be.

I would love to see creative ways that these teachers who wield broad influence can have more overt authority and accountability in ecclesial institutions, while remaining lay leaders. I am not precisely sure, nor is it my place to say for other traditions, what this will look like. It could look like theological writing and/or lay speakers guilds affiliated with denominations; it could look like denominations “commissioning” writers for ministry, it could look like parachurch organizations (with clear statements and standards of belief and practice) that form among lay writers and teachers; it could look like something else altogether (that is far better than anything I can now imagine).  It could simply mean that writers commit themselves to being parts of denominations or parachurch groups that have clearly defined and public statements of faith and practice that they uphold. There is also a conversation to be had here about the role of publishing houses and editors in conferring both authority and accountability (I hope someone will write on that).

I am frankly not equipped to say how each tradition and ecclesial group ought to respond to new technology and the questions about teaching authority, accountability, and church governance that it raises. But I do know that the church cannot just passively say, “It’ll probably work itself out.” There needs to be an active and creative conversation about what it means to respond responsibly, faithfully, and institutionally to the proliferation of teachings and teachers brought to us through social media. Otherwise, the tail of new technology will inevitably end up wagging the dog of church authority (and, consequently, orthodoxy). 

Some critics have said that because we have new, radically democratic technology, we need to throw out old notions of church governance all together. But I’m saying we need to take the old wisdom of the church over millennia and creatively apply it to this new technological age. We need to recognize and embrace the real good this technology provides without letting go of 2000 years of wise church practice. 

3. Some have criticized the piece for not acknowledging the way the institutional church has silenced and oppressed women and persons of color. In my mind, this criticism is the most important one I have received. 

And it is very legitimate.  Although I do mention how women have been “marginalized or silenced in the church for far too long,” I wish I’d spent more time explaining how I can invite others to submit to an institutional church that has done much damage and waged much violence, even in the name of the Prince of Peace.  I am sorry I did not.

(If you are interested in how I hold together the need for and goodness of the visible, institutional church with its many sins, I write about this more extensively in Chapter 9 of Liturgy of the Ordinary). 

The church has been and is, undeniably, a remarkably sinful and broken institution. Yet, it remains, certainly mysteriously and in spite of herself, the beloved bride of Christ and an agent of redemption on earth. If we want the church to be more of the holy, faithful body she is called to be, we must never give up on Christ’s reforming work within the church. And we have to work institutionally. 

I recognize my privilege as a white woman who is ordained (even in a denomination divided over whether women should be ordained). Not all women have that option or experience. While I am wary of some of the ways that term is weaponized online (more on that here), I do agree that it is a profound privilege to be ordained. But whatever privilege I have I want to use, in part, to help women and people of color into places of overt authority in church institutions. This is why the entire section addressing the church calls for more overt places of institutional authority for women (whether in complementarian or egalitarian places). But if we are to step into greater institutional authority, we have to be willing to take on the mantle of institutional accountability. We cannot have one without the other. 

Misogyny and racism still very much exist in the church. But I think change has to come institutionally. Recently, there's been lots of needed conversation about and concern over how consumerism and mass-marketing affects women's discipleship and the demands and malformation-–and often unexamined systemic sexism and racism--inherent in “personal branding” in the Christian publishing and speaking world (I share this concern). 

I believe that if we don’t find ways to work institutionally and to build institutions larger than ourselves, all we will have left is personal branding-- we’ll have a few big names of female leaders, which is good, but the church will not be better for our grandchildren or their grandchildren. I know this kind of institutional engagement is difficult in places where women are marginalized, which is why my piece calls the church (institution) to make space for female voices and to formally recognize the authority female teachers currently wield. 

At the end of the day, here I stand: The church, in so many ways, is a sinful mess and tragically responsible for all manner of evil and oppression, yet still each Sunday I stand up before my congregation and proclaim that I believe in “one, holy catholic and apostolic church.’ I do not think that Jesus has given up on his church—visible or invisible. I want the church to preserve the “deposit of faith” that we’ve inherited and to live out that faith lovingly as an “alternative polis” and a faithful, loving people. And I feel a responsibility to work toward that institutionally and call others to do the same.

In conclusion, I am sure this does not adequately address all my critics or these particular criticisms, but I offer these responses humbly, knowing that my piece was certainly not perfect. Though I’ve been saddened about the vitriolic nature that some of these conversations have assumed, I am very grateful for a great many of the conversations that it is spawning. 

I hope it and the conversations it has sparked helps us in some small way to live more faithfully as Christ's beloved bride. For the ways it fails to do so, I am truly sorry. 

Note: for the sake of my own emotional and spiritual health and the needs of my family and my local congregation, I cannot meaningfully engage this conversation on twitter. Over the weekend, I had hundreds of responses to my pieces and to reply thoughtfully to all of them would require more time than I am able to give.  I will mostly be unable to further engage online.

My book has a cover!

A lovely cover. Big thanks to InterVarsity Press (IVP)! 

This releases in December...why don't you go ahead and plan on getting it for everyone for Christmas. With a jar of jam. To match the lovely cover. 

Lots of Interviews and a piece about chronic pain

Hello to you faithful friends or strangers who happen on this site!

So in November, I finished the first draft of my first book (Woohoo!) and then, quite intentionally, took a break from writing for a bit. And also, quite unintentionally, didn't update this site at all.

So a lot was published in the meantime. 

First, interviews. The amazing Andie Roeder Moody interviewed me for Christianity Today about pluralism and writing for Christianity Today. You can read that interview (which was very fun to do because Andie is great and asks great questions) here

Oh, also, in this interview I talked for the first time publicly about my upcoming book so check that out!

Then, I interviewed some other people.

First, I talked with friends of mine from the band Rain for Roots about their project Waiting Songs and helping kids in to Lent. See that here at the Anglican Pastor: Tish's interview with Rain for Roots.

Then, I talked to my friend Laura Waters Hinson on her newest documentary on the life of Lilias Trotter, Many Beautiful Things. Check it out here at the Well: Tish's interview with Laura Waters Hinson.

Also, somewhere in there, I wrote a piece about migraines and my struggle with chronic pain. Interestingly, I got more letters and feedback on this piece than almost any I've written. A lot of folks out there either struggle deeply with chronic pain or want to offer remedies to those who do. If you wrote me about this piece and I haven't yet responded, I am sorry! There was a lot of emails. I do appreciate the notes though! See the piece, here

The Problem of a Mixed History and a Happy Announcement

I am grateful to be in Christianity Today this month. This piece emerged during the controversy over flying the confederate flag (which I argued should be taken down). But it deals with a larger question: How do we contend with evil in history--in our families, culture, and in the church? How can we be honest, gracious, humble, and repentant together? How do we avoid pitfalls of traditionalism (on one hand) and progressivism (on the other)? 
 
Check it out here. And tell me your thoughts.

(Also, I must gush that the print version's graphic design is gorgeous. Those CT graphic designers captured the tone of the piece beautifully and creatively. Thank God for good graphic designers, right? They are amazing).

Also, this piece is locked for now and only open to subscribers. When I crack the code (which is not hard except for Luddites like me), I'll post an unlocked version.

Lastly, in my bio in this piece there is announcement: I'm writing a book. It will be published with IVP.  It will be out sometime next year or possibly early 2017. There is more to say (and I will, in fact, say more) on that but for now, "HEY GUYS, I have a book coming out." I hope you read it. (I hope I finish writing it :-)). More to come...

Catching you up and pieces on Gay Marriage and Lament for the Dead

I've not updated this space much this summer. 

As you may or may not recall, I don't think of this as (or treat this as) a blog but more of a semi-static place that people can come to find more of what I've written. And a place for those who follow my work (and if you do, thank you, I'm grateful to you) to hear when I've published something somewhere.  

But that being said, I've published twice and haven't updated you here. It's been a weird summer. Family in the hospital. Traveling. Floods in Texas. House repair. Weird. And busy. 

I am still working on a longer project that I'm looking forward to posting about soon. 

But, in the meantime, in June, I wrote a piece for The Well that laid down ground rules for discussion after the Supreme Court decision on Gay Marriage.  After the Court's decision, as a writer, I felt a kind of pressure to write on it-- it was such a monumental moment for the church and the culture. Yet, the rush to speak made me uncomfortable. This was my attempt to back up, slow down, and engage more deliberately in the conversation. I am so grateful for the feedback I received on this piece--from people across the political and ideological spectrum. You can read it here.

I was really privileged to take part in a poetry project this summer called Lament for the Dead, where poets and writers joined together to write a poem for each person killed by police and each law officer killed in the line of duty this summer. You can read more about the project here.  I was assigned a name on July 6 and had to turn in a poem by that evening. It was an intense and moving experience for me. The man I was assigned, a young man in his twenties who apparently suffered from mental illness, lived near me and I still think of him often.  We were assigned subjects at random so it was remarkable that I was paired with someone around me. Remarkable and unforgettable. You can read it here

Weakness and writing

There are times when I'm tempted to write as one who has things figured out, who has things pretty much together. But my friends at Art House America (have I mentioned that I love them. Read the whole site!) asked me to write and, soon after, followed weeks of upheaval, fear, and feelings of profound vulnerability. So what came as I sat down to write was a from-the-gut groaning for a Rescuer and Redeemer. Read it here. 

It's been a crazy few weeks here. Since this piece was written, Texas had major flooding. (Read more on that at my sister's site, here). And my Dad has had major surgery. Please be in prayer for him. 

In the South, in Texas, there can be a cultural mandate to be strong, to be "Texas tough." But I increasingly think that it's bogus. We are weak and vulnerable. We are needy for help and grace. Admitting such is to admit reality. And reality is where we need to live, even if it hurts, even if we need to groan sometimes because of it, even if it's embarrassing. So, check out my piece. And check out Art House. It was an honor to get to write for them. 
 

A few more pieces in the past couple months

It is raining like crazy here. Flooding is everywhere in Central Texas, including the family home I love most in the world (not my own house, mind you). I am taking this moment where we're all shut in with batten down hatches to update my (long overdue to be updated) site. In the past few months, I've been busy with a longer project that I'll tell you about someday soon.

But in the meantime, I've also written a piece wrestling with race---specifically about how, as a white woman, it is hard to know how to enter the conversation well, when to speak and when to remain silent. This is a hard subject for me to write about and this piece actually began months ago during the Ferguson protests. I ended up just sitting on it and not publishing it for a while, but 4 friends of mine who are all people of color encouraged me to publish it, so after the Baltimore riots, I returned to this piece and began working on it again. Check out the results here.  I could not have written this (and would not have written this) without help from a number of editors, especially friends who are African-Americans who gave encouragement along the way. I am very grateful for them and their generosity to me. 

Then, I wrote a piece for her.meneutics on maternal imagery for the church, which was a piece for and about Pentecost and a bit of a conflicted love letter to the church. Read it here. 

I should go because the rain storm is raging, and I'd hate to miss the opportunity to stare at it. But I can't sign off without acknowledging that while I write here, many in my community have lost their homes and have had severe property damage. Some of these are people who I know and love. Please consider donating to Central Texas Flood Relief. You can do so, right here