#261 Fear and Confidence

I like being a pastor. I really do. I like sitting with people and hearing their stories and praying with them. I like diving into the Bible and bringing its message to God's people each week. I appreciate that my job lets spend time reflecting on God and who He is and what He's done and what all that means not just for me but for all of us.

At the same time, being a pastor scares the living daylights out of me. For one thing, the way I interpret the Bible has an impact—sometimes a big impact—on lots of people around me. There's a whole congregation of people paying attention to me every time I preach. Sometimes people even pay attention to my reflections on this silly little blog, though I can't imagine why. Figuring out how to apply words written thousands of years ago to contemporary life isn't always a smooth and easy process. Sometimes I'm working on a Bible passage that doesn't seem easy to reconcile with a different Bible passage. Sometimes I wrestle with just how God's Word speaks to us in a modern situation that doesn't seem to be directly addressed in the Bible. I have training to help me. I consult other resources. I try to be careful about not saying more than I should or overstating my confidence in disputable areas. Thankfully the main message of the Bible is clear, and many passages are plain enough, but there are still tough passages. I definitely worry about making sure I interpret things properly and apply them faithfully.

Maybe scarier yet is the fact that people pay attention to the way I live my life. As a pastor I am a church leader. I'm not perfect (hopefully everyone remembers and understands that), but I am supposed to be mature. In the Bible God challenges church leaders to set an example for other Christians. That can be intimidating when there are many members of my congregation who have been following Jesus a lot longer than I have. We Christians are supposed to be like Jesus, but when I compare myself to Jesus, I see an overwhelming amount of sin in my life. My heart contains selfishness, anger, lust, pride, envy, stubbornness. I make other things more important than God in my life. I spend too much time ignoring God or acting like I don't need Him. I speak without thinking. I lack sympathy and concern for others. Plus, I am much too capable of hurting others. I hurt people if I forget to follow up with them or if I'm not quick enough in checking in when they're going through a crisis. Some days I think the most loving thing I could do for the people around me is find them someone who's a better pastor than I am.

So what do I do? I think the best thing I can do is remember. I remember that deep down inside God has given me a sense that He's called me to be a pastor. I remember that other people have confirmed that calling. I remember a few key times when things went well as evidence that God can work through me as a pastor. I remember that there's good reason to think I am growing in Christ because that growth means an increased understanding of my own sinfulness and need for further growth. Most of all I remember the gospel, the good news, and what it means for me. (And I hope you, dear reader, will remember this, too.) God the Father made me in His image and has remained faithful to me even though I am sinful. God the Son loves me so much that He came to earth, became human, lived, died, rose again, and ascended into heaven for my salvation. God the Sprit lives inside me, working to renew and transform me so that I can live for God and truly enjoy Him forever. That remembering encourages me to keep working, to keep pressing forward because God assures me that I am His and I am not alone, that my efforts are not futile, that pursuing Jesus is always worthwhile. There's no reason to have confidence in me, but there's every reason to have confidence in Christ.

Grace and peace,

BMH

#260 Sadness and Shame

This was our moment. My denomination, the Christian Reformed Church in North America, was going to discuss human sexuality, a topic of discussion throughout American society. Together we were going to work on discerning how God calls Christians to live as His people in this important area. There were going to be more eyes on the CRC and on synod, our annual meeting, than there had been in 25-30 years. I had a fair amount of anxiety as synod approached, wrestling with the theology involved and its implications, praying for clarity for myself and for the delegates to synod and for the denomination. I knew things could become tense, even hostile, but I had hope. I had hope that we would bear witness to Christ's love, speaking humbly, acting graciously, showing mutual concern and respect for each other.

We'll see what happens as we move forward, but at this point I feel like we really made a mess of things. I'm not really talking about the decisions we made at synod (though I shared much of my understanding of what God teaches us about marriage and sex in my last post). I'm talking about our discussion around and especially immediately after our synod decisions. As I read different reports and responses leading up to synod, I worried that many times we were misunderstanding if not mischaracterizing one another when we disagreed. I wasn't at synod, nor did I watch the (slightly delayed) stream of the discussions, so I don't know much about how the official conversation went. But a lot of our responses were brutal. There were emotion-filled quotes and posts that seemed to take aim at large groups of us. I've had a lot of different feelings over the past few days, but I mostly feel sadness and a fair amount of shame. Is this really how we treat not just our fellow people, but our sisters and brothers in Christ? We seem to speak about one another in dismissive terms that sometimes feel like they're bordering on contempt. We appear to make assumptions about each other's motivations, character, and goals. We just seem so incredibly sure that we are right, that we understand things correctly, that God is on our side. We appear to treat the whole discussion as a matter of winners or losers, whether we feel we "won" or "lost." And I say we because I know I'm guilty, too. We should know better. I keep thinking of God's words to the Christians in Corinth (see 1 Corinthians 3): We're still worldly, aren't we? Haven't we proven that by our words and actions this week?

Lord Jesus, call us, this small part of your great church, back to you. Cleanse us from our sins. Renew us in your likeness. Help us follow you and represent you well.

Grace and peace,

BMH

#259 Where I Stand

My denomination, the Christian Reformed Church, is currently in the midst of its annual meeting, known as synod. Later this week synod will address the report of the Comittee to Articulate a Foundation-laying Biblical Theology of Human Sexuality. Debate has been going on throughout the denomination for months. I've been thinking quite a bit about this topic, wrestling and reflecting and wondering while reading through the report and all the official responses to it.

So while we wait for what this year's synod will decide (which may or may not end the discussion for the time being), I thought it was only fair for me to make known where I stand. I think the best interpretation of what God teaches us in the Bible is that God's intention is for sex to only take place in the context of marriage and for marriage to be between one man and one woman. What that means, as I understand it, is that premarital sex, adultery, polygamy and polyamory, and same-sex sexual relationships are against God's will. Some of you reading this might be ready to just leave the blog for now, but stay with me, please. (This post is going to be lengthy, so I won't get into the details of Bible interpretation here, but I will gladly explain how I reach that conclusion if you ask.)

I'm focusing on sexuality here because I want to discuss a specific topic, but let me give a few clarifications. I don't think at all that sexual sins are unforgivable or even somehow worse than any other sins—hatred, greed, dishonesty, selfishness, idolatry, disregard for God, and so on. Nor do I think that people in one woman-one man marriages are free from sexual sin. God speaks quite strongly against lust and makes it clear that sex in marriage should take place with mutual agreement. I think my sexuality is broken, and sexual sin lives in me and my heart. I think every human—no matter their sexuality or gender—has a broken sexuality, and sexual sin lives in all of us and all of our hearts. We may be different, but that doesn't make any of us better than the others.

I think people who are LGBTQ+ can be and are my brothers and sisters in Christ. We all need Jesus to cleanse us from our sins and teach us to live new lives through His power. We all need the encouragement and accountability that come from belonging to Christ as part of His people, the church. God calls us to share each other's joys and struggles. I want my LGBTQ+ brothers and sisters to know that they are created in God's image and loved by Jesus Christ. I want to walk together through their ups and downs as well as mine. But I can't in good conscience affirm same-sex marriages. I have not encountered a satisfying interpretation of God's Word (in my opinion) that supports sexual activity outside of a married opposite-sex couple.

I get that this doesn't seem fair by human standards. I understand how convenient it sounds for me to argue that sex and marriage aren't for everyone but are for me. So let me try to lay this out as plainly and openly as I can. Marriage is good. Sex is good. I am married, and (as you probably assumed since Tess carried each of our two daughters through pregnancy), Tess and I have sex sometimes. These are blessings that I am grateful for. But as much as I may want these things, marriage is not what gives my life meaning. Sex is not what ultimately satisfies me. As someone who has moved away from my family of origin and someone who has at times felt isolated because of my job, I think our true human needs aren't for sex and marriage but for friendship, community, fellowship, belonging. I believe God provides all of us with a way to satisfy those needs through the family of His people. In the church we are meant to find true brothers and sisters who will give us a hand, a hug, a listening ear, a safe place. We can have deep relational intimacy even if we don't have sexual intimacy. And most of all, what we need is Jesus Christ. Nothing compares with knowing Him and belonging to Him.

Maybe that still doesn't sound like enough. Why should some people get to have marriage and sex while others don't, especially when our sexuality is not something we choose? I can't say I have all the answers. What I can say is that, as far as I can tell, God's ultimate purpose for human marriage is to point us to the relationship between God and His people. The only marriage that is truly eternal is that between Christ and His church, and that is a marriage that all of us can be part of. Jesus calls all of His people to deny ourselves and give ourselves up for Him. If, as part of that call, Jesus calls us to give up marriage and sex now, He will help us to do that. It won't always be easy or enjoyable, but it will be worth it. And I also understand that the church is far too often not the welcoming, embracing body, the true family that I've described above. We Christians have long isolated our single sisters and brothers and have often terribly hurt and excluded our LGBTQ+ sisters and brothers. I need to own and admit that and do better. We need to own and admit that and do better. As the body of Christ, we all need each other.

So this is where I stand. There are a lot of Christians in a similar place. And there are also many Christians, including some people I greatly respect, some people who are my friends, who are in a very different place and who affirm same-sex marriage for Christians. That gives me pause. I need to humbly admit that while I've tried to be thoughtful and careful I could be wrong. I make mistakes, and I don't see everything. So I've laid out my thoughts and beliefs here for the sake of transparency, not just now but for the future. If a day would come where I feel God leads me to a different position, then we'll talk about that in light of this. But for now, I believe what I've laid out here faithfully reflects how God calls us to live as His people with regards to human sexuality. With this in mind, I'll strive to rightly love my neighbors as Christ calls me to.

Grace and peace,

BMH

#258 Lane Pain

I just returned from vacation, so I've spent a lot of time driving over the past week. It's also road construction season, when one of my least favorite types of people comes out. I'm sure you've met these drivers. You're driving alone on a nice interstate or state highway with two lanes going your direction. Traffic is flowing smoothly. There's a person just ahead of you doing something like 75 mph when the speed limit is posted at 70. Then a construction zone comes up. After the merge, one lane is open as normal, while the other lane has a series of orange barrels in it. The speed limit goes down to something like 60. Suddenly the person ahead of you, the person who was comfortably driving 75 about two minutes ago, seems unable to drive 60, even though this person is still in the same lane, which is exactly the same size as it was before. It doesn't make sense to me. I understand that everyone needs to slow down in the construction zone. I want the workers to be and to feel safe. But I don't understand why having barrels in the next lane affects some people's ability to drive in their own lane. If they could go at least the (faster) speed limit before why can't they go the (slower) speed limit now? The amount of room hasn't changed. I wish someone could explain this to me!

So what we've learned is that I'm an impatient person. I don't like it when I'm not free to drive the speed I'd like to drive. My impatience is a sign of my sinful selfishness. If I'm getting stuck behind another driver in the construction zone, maybe God is trying to teach me patience. After all, it's not all about me.

Grace and peace,

BMH