Love, a 🧵: I can’t speak for other religions, but, when it comes to Christianity, those who describe themselves as theologically “orthodox” (creedal? conservative?) ought to be among the most loving people in the world and should increase in said love across their—er, our—lives.
Christians in this theological vein believe that we have been given the greatest gift imaginable—we were due to receive condemnation but through the miraculous grace of God, we were rescued through the interposition of Jesus. Through Jesus we get a new life! This is the gospel.
This means that I love everyone. And I mean EVERYONE. I’m friends with Jews and Muslims and atheists. I’m friends with gay and lesbian and trans and straight. I’m friends with folks on the far left and the far right. I love them all. Because that’s the love given to me by God.
Just because I have personal theological opinions that may bend to the right doesn’t give me reason or space to act like a jerk. Quite the opposite. If I take the Bible seriously, I believe in the person and work of Jesus literally saving me from condemnation. LITERALLY.
This means anyone and everyone is welcome in our church. We have had Jews and Muslims and Buddhists. We have had gay couples and lesbian couples. We have had trans and queer folks. We have had pretty much every ethnicity you can imagine. And we are THRILLED when they come. Why?
Because we believe that every single person walking the face of this Earth is made in the image of God and is worthy of an opportunity to hear about and experience the love of God given in Jesus. They don’t have to think identically to me in order to be welcome. They ARE welcome.
I mention this because some seem to think that theological precision necessitates a narrowing of love. This is, at best, ignorant. The more I study Scripture and theology, the more loving and gracious I should become—because I will recognize that *I could be wrong* on x issue.
There are so many brilliant people in this world, and so many of them often see things in ways that I never would. This does not threaten me or my faith. It makes me curious. It challenges me to read more broadly. It makes me appreciate God even more.
The more you study, the longer you live, and the more you travel, the more you will realize: there are parts of Christianity that are essential/non-negotiable, but other areas that are a mystery. Put simply: the world is a big place and God is a big God.
This is not an argument to have no theology or even squishy theology. It is an argument to study deeply, have convictions, but to be generous and gracious—because grace is at the heart of our faith. If you are theologically astute and yet ungracious, I am unimpressed.
There’s a lot of popular Christian accounts on this website I don’t follow—for this very reason. They don’t have the look of Jesus. I see no love. I see angry religious people looking for clicks and a platform. As far as I’m concerned, they have already received their reward.
Instead, I choose to have definite theological convictions but to enter into all engagements with other people with the assumption that I could be wrong, that I might learn something from them, that they, too, are looking for comfort and love. If I do this, I’ll honor Jesus.
I have many theological convictions, but the greatest of these is love.
See y’all at church. ;-)
Grace and peace.
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🧵I hold to what some might call a “traditional” biblical sexual ethic. I’ve come to this conclusion after reading multiple sources (across disciplines and decades), doing the work in the biblical languages/culture, etc.
I also understand that others think I am completely wrong.
I know Western culture outside the church broadly disagrees with my position. I understand the reasoning (usually based on the inherent right of individual actualization).
And, in a pluralistic society, I can understand why such a position should be allowed and protected.
I also understand that many *within* the church would disagree with me. Most of them would argue my hermeneutics are either a) obsolete due to culture or b) misreadings of the biblical text.
This is (and has been) playing out in multiple denominations and traditions.
Up later than normal for me on a Saturday night, but just now having a chance to put down a few thoughts re: why evangelicalism has a habit of producing leaders who flame out. A few ideas:
1. “Success” is celebrated more than “faithfulness.” And “success” is almost always measured by the size of the gathering.
2. Speed is celebrated more than patience. In other words a church that “blows up” “overnight” will gain more notoriety than a church that grows a substantial ministry over years, decades, or even generations.
Women in Ministry, a 🧵: Over the last two years, my elders and I have been on a deep dive in order to better understand the role of women within the New Testament in order to provide clear guidance to our congregation, specifically the women in our congregation.
As a result, I read and re-read a number of books, commentaries and articles on the topic. I was reminded of a *number* of points I had forgotten, and I discovered a *host* of points I had never seen or heard.
In the end, such wide reading was extremely beneficial.
Wide reading helped me to more charitably understand the position of people I had previously disagreed with on this topic. Seeing their exegesis and reasoning up close helped me to become gracious. While disagreeing, I could *understand* why they reached their conclusions.
Today is #Epiphany, the day we remember the magi from the east coming to pay homage to the Christ child.
Although the Bible is not explicit, I have long appreciated the theory that that magi are the spiritual descendants of the prophet Daniel.
There are several clues. (Cont.)
First , Daniel was a magi himself in the Babylonian court following his exile. The magi (wise men) served as counselors and dream interpreters to the king and his entourage. Joseph would have been a magi of sorts. Makes sense Daniel could have passed down prophecy in Babylon.
Second, they come from the East. This could be any number of places, but given the way geographical locations were discussed at the time, Babylon/Persia makes sense. They particularly would have resources to send such a caravan. Additionally, it rules out a place like Egypt.
Admitting you were wrong,
or made a mistake,
or changed your mind on a topic
are signs of emotional and spiritual maturity and should be celebrated rather than ridiculed.
Growth is good.
My theology 20 years ago was different than it is now. I’ve read and learned a great deal.
I have lived and learned through countless mistakes in ministry and leadership.
I am, often painfully, still learning through many more today.
This is how maturity comes about.
One of the reasons evangelicals have seen so many pastors and leaders fall is that they have anointed someone as a genius in his/her 20s and given them little room to mature.
Hard to have room to change when everyone is celebrating you—before you’ve learned from mistakes.
After 20+ years of pastoring, a thread of some thoughts for you youngsters and seminarians:
First, theology is important, but probably not in the way that you think it is.
Bottom line: theology—when pastoring—must be relentlessly tied to helping your church live out the faith.
In seminary, theology can serve primarily as an intellectual exercise, as the ultimate mind games. So we ask Qs like:
Does God predestine souls to an eternal destination before birth?
How do we reconcile the existence of God/evil?
How to make sense of certain Scriptures?
Etc.
These are good and even helpful—if we are constructing a pastoral framework with them. It is helpful to remember that many questions/situations have a *theological* response and a separate *pastoral* response. While the pastoral response may be informed by theology, it is unique.