Emerging Women

I wanted to spread the word about Jim Henderson’s (Off the Map) new project -

From Jim -
I’m doing research for my next project- The Resignation of Eve. I want to interview Christian or formerly Christian women who are experiencing or have gone through one or more of the Three Stages of Resignation. I will be doing these interviews in May. Most will be via Skype but some might be in person (depending on where I am in the world). Get more details in the blog and post a short explainer in the comments (at this site) (100 words or less) as to why you or your friend might be a good person for me to interview.

1. Resigned To
Using the word “resigned” in the passive sense we will highlight the most widespread abuse of women in the church – blocking, stonewalling and stalling women’s interest in gaining more influence in the church. We will tell the stories of women who find themselves “stuck” in a Catch 22. They love their church and the people but they also know they aren’t being given the opportunity to bring their best. Some are very frustrated others have simply come to terms with it.

2. Resigned From
This section profiles women who have walked away from Christianity, Church and in some cases God. These are women who at one time were very dedicated Christians, church goers and bible study leaders who have opted out for other beliefs or no beliefs. In spite of their rejection of the religion that confused and complicated their lives many of these women often lead fulfilling and productive and even deeply spiritual lives.

3. Re-Signed Up
Life is about making trades. Two people can appear to be doing the same thing but for two very different reasons. This section features the stories of women who have found a way to “orbit the giant hairball” called Christianity. They’ve learned the art of “defining themselves and staying connected”. They’re engaged but not owned, integrated within the church but knowledgeable about its inherent limitations and dangers. They’ve discovered ways to contribute to something they often disagree with. What makes these women different is that they don’t deny or just accept the situation they know it exists, talk about it and are seeking to change it from within.

A number of bloggers are participating today in a Synchroblog on “What is emerging?” While there is room (and need for) discussions regarding what needs to change and heal in the emerging conversation, it can also be helpful to here about where people see hope. This synchroblog was a way for a diversity of voices to tell of where they find hope in what is emerging in the church. From personal experiences to theological reflection, these posts (while not always in agreement) serve simply as witnesses to what is developing in the church today. I encourage you to read these posts, join in on the discussion, and acknowledge the differing voices that make up this conversation. If you want to contribute a post to the Synchroblog leave a link here to add yours to the list.

Happy reading!

Pam Hogeweide compares the emerging church movement to a game of ping pong.
Sarah-Ji comments that the emerging questions people are asking are far bigger than any defined movement.
Sharon Brown writes about using labels as an excuse.
Peter Walker reflects on how the emerging church conversation helped him recognize his power and privlege as a white male.
Dave Huth post a on new ways to talk about religion.
Kathy Escobar finds hope in seeing a spirit of love in action emerging in the church.
Nadia Bolz-Weber reflects on the the beautiful things she sees emerging in her church community.
Chad Holtz writes on our Our Emerging Jewishness.
Julie Kennedy describes her organic entry into the emerging church and reflects on moving forward with a new public face.
Dave Brown comments on the emerging church and swarm theory.
Danielle Shroyer reflects on what she sees emerging in the church.
Brian Merritt offers his pros and cons of the emerging church.
Julie Clawson is grateful for emerging globalized Christianity.
Susan Philips points out that emergence happens as G-d redeems our shattered realities.
Mike Clawson reflects on the non-western voices that brought him to the emerging conversation.
Jake Bouma suggest that what is emerging is a collapse into simplicity.
Liz Dyer believes a chastened epistemology is a valuable characteristic emerging out of the church today.
Rachel Held Evans writes on what is changing in the church.
Tia Lynn Lecorchick describes the emerging movement as a wood between worlds (from The Magician’s Nephew).
Amy Moffitt shares her journey towards a theology of humility.
Travis Mamone comments on the need for the emerging church to rely on the word of God.
Sa Say reflects on the the prick of doubt.
David Henson lists what he sees as what is emerging in the church.
Angela Harms writes in in defense of emergent.
Wendy Gritter asks how we can listening to the voices from the margins.
Bruce Epperly comments on the largeness of spirit of emerging spirituality.
Linda Jamentz reflects on listening to the voices from the margins in church.
Lisa Bain Carlton hopes that our emerging conversation can respond humbly to our moment in time.
Christine Sine asks how far are we willing to be transformed.
Lori Allen Wilson reflects on what is emerging in the younger generations.
Cynthia Norris Clack sees love emerging in the church.
Bob Fisher lists the values emerging in his faith community
Mihee Kim-Kort writes of the conversions and conversations she sees around her.
Ann Catherine Pittman believes that what is emerging in the church is inclusivity.
Matthew Gallion describes how emergence is spread thin across the whole church.
Phil Snider offers guarded praise of emergent.

By Cindy Wallace

Last night I cooked. As day deepened into darkness, I stood wrapped in an apron my mother made, grinding almonds, rolling out dough, chopping potatoes and onions, washing lettuce, slicing strawberries, blending whipped cream and cream cheese and sugar. I cooked until I was cranky, and then I kept cooking (Josh learned to keep his distance). I was preparing for the feast, but this preparation struck me as strange: how does one live into the joy of Easter in the mid-time mourning space of Holy Saturday?

In the church calendar, Good Friday may be the darkest day, but the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday is for me a day of profound mystery. It bespeaks the waiting I often feel within myself, the tentative question: what next? I am preparing, I am mourning, I am hoping. For Mary the mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalene, the other women who found his tomb empty early Sunday morning, Saturday would have been a Sabbath day. Would they have lit candles or lamps? What wailing would their mourning have entailed? They certainly weren’t preparing to celebrate; they weren’t peeling vegetables and drizzling honey. They weren’t wrapping their hair on strips of cloth to make spring Sunday curls.

But my experience of Easter happens now, with Bibles tucked on my numerous bookshelves telling me very little about Saturday but that by Sunday morning those women knew, as perplexed and afraid and astonished as they may have been, that there is such a thing as life out of death. That there was such a thing as a temple rebuilt in three days, One come to suffer with, to give his life a ransom for many, to vanquish death and evil in the most flip-flopped, unexpected way. Like a bulb planted in the earth–you look at it, and you think, how could this shrivelled brown ball ever make something beautiful? (How could this submissive, shameful death ever make something beautiful?) And then: life!

Life!

So I prepared my feast. I assembled friends to share the feast–as one of them called it, a “resurrection family.” I followed the recipes my mom and aunts taught me by many years of example. And after a night of deep sleep, I awoke to Life. (Let’s also be less romanticized and more honest: this morning I drank copious quantities of coffee and ate pastry and haphazardly hacked a nine-pound ham with a meat cleaver so that at least part of it would fit into a slow cooker.) Leaving the ham, Josh and I strolled two blocks to gather with the most beautiful collection of Christians I’ve ever witnessed. And we celebrated. After the darkness of Friday and Saturday, all I could see this morning was Light. All I could hear was Joy. All I could feel was Hope.

And then we ate. We ate in the sort of way where laughter ripples along the table, where forkfuls of avocado-lime pie pause in midair as people discover surprise connections, shared hopes. I took photos of us all and sent them to the family back home, where a similar feast had taken place, with a similar menu, also made ready by hands on that mysterious Saturday of waiting and preparation.

Tomorrow morning I will awaken to a day like most days, which at least for me are much more like Holy Saturday–the bridge between pain and beauty, death and life, looking back and looking ahead–than either Good Friday or Easter Sunday. I have hope and I have questions. I have sorrow and I have joy. I live in neither fast nor feast, but moderation, small happinesses. But my red-stained fingers, dyed brighter than the eggs I will now make into egg-salad, will remind me: we have fasted, and we have feasted. We have layered our laughter and tasted of life’s delight in special food and special friends. We live not just in the shadow of death but in the light of a Risen Son.

Cindy Wallace is a graduate student, a recovering fundamentalist, and a church-planting plotter with her red-goateed seminarian husband. This post originally appeared at her blog http://lafleurepuisee.blogspot.com/.

More people die from polluted water every year than from all forms of violence, including war, the United Nations said in a report yesterday that highlights the need for clean drinking water.

The report, launched to coincide with World Water Day, said an estimated two billion tons of waste water – including fertilizer run-off, sewage, and industrial waste – was being discharged daily. That waste fuels the spread of disease and damages ecosystems.

The report said 3.7 percent of all deaths were attributed to water-related diseases, translating into millions of deaths. More than half of the world’s hospital beds are filled by people suffering from water-related illnesses.

Clean water is essential for life, but one in eight of the world’s population does not have access to it. This, and lack of safe sanitation, result in 1.4 million children dying from water-related diseases every year.

The lack of clean water means millions of women and children spend hours each day searching for water and carrying it home. This exhausting task can cause damage to their heads, necks and spines, and leaves them with little time for productive work or education.

What We Can Do –

• Participate in the UNICEF Tap Project -
  In 2007, the UNICEF Tap Project was born in New York City based on a simple concept: restaurants would ask their patrons to donate $1 or more for the tap water they usually enjoy for free, and all funds raised would support UNICEF’s efforts to bring clean and accessible water to millions of children around the world.

  Growing from just 300 New York City restaurants in 2007 to thousands across the country today, the UNICEF Tap Project has quickly become a powerful national movement.

  During World Water Week, March 21-27, 2010, the UNICEF Tap Project will once again raise awareness of the world water crisis and vital funds to help the millions of children it impacts daily. All funds raised support UNICEF’s water, sanitation and hygiene programs, and the effort to bring clean and accessible water to millions of children around the world.

• Donate your status for World Water Week
  To help raise awareness, when you donate your status, they’ll tweet on Twitter and/or update your Facebook status every day during World Water Week—Monday, March 22 through Friday, March 26. You have the option to opt-out at any time.

  If you choose, they’ll also add a blue tint to your Twitter avatar. On Facebook, we’ll upload a new photo so you can make it your profile pic. At the end of the week, you can change these back or leave them up to show your support for clean water.

  Each day the posts will feature either: a water crisis fact, a story about people who have received access to clean water, events to celebrate, or a call for action. All updates have a link back to oneweekforwater.org to help spread the word.

  This site is about celebrating the progress that’s been made in the global water crisis—and calling for continued action. Over the past 10 years, 200 million people gained access to clean water, but 890 million people still need it—and more than 2.5 billion people lack access to safe sanitation.

• Support a Water Ministry
  • Living Water International – Living Water International exists to demonstrate the love of God by helping communities acquire desperately needed clean water, and to experience “living water”—the gospel of Jesus Christ—which alone satisfies the deepest thirst.
  • Charity: Water – a non-profit organization bringing clean and safe drinking water to people in developing nations. 100% of public donations directly fund water projects.
  • 100 Wells Campaign – 100,000 people in Jaac, Sudan need clean water to survive. The devastating genocide in Darfur has forced refugees to resettle in rural desert areas like Jaac—desert areas where clean water simply doesn’t exist. Our goal is to build 100 wells to serve this community.
  • blood:water mission – a grassroots organization that empowers communities to work together against the HIV/AIDS and water crisis.

By Brenna Rubio

“Later, knowing that everything had now been finished, and so that Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, ‘I am thirsty.’ A jar of wine vinegar was there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a stalk of the hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus’ lips. When he had received the drink, Jesus said, ‘It is finished.’ With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.” John 19:28-30 [NIV]

Today the man who knew me best in the world died. It was a cruel death – brutal, painful – and part of me has wished, over and over, that I had never heard that Jesus would be in Jerusalem. That I had never set out on my pilgrimage to see him, to tell him how he had changed my life. And then when I arrived, when I learned that he had been taken, that he would be executed, why did I stay? I suppose, though I am just a woman, and a Samaritan at that, I wanted to be his witness. And perhaps – I wanted to see a miracle. I hoped that finally he would reveal himself in all of his power. Instead I saw a man, ripped, pierced, suffering – who wants to see their beloved in such agony?

I don’t know if he saw me. To be honest, I don’t KNOW if he would remember me. We only met once, and our time together was very, very short. So you may think I’m crazy when I tell you this, but… I think he spoke to me. From the cross, I mean. The time was growing short – I could tell he was getting weaker – his breathing was so shallow and labored. But then, suddenly, with a great effort he pulled up his head, looked right into my eyes, and cried, so clearly, “I thirst.”

Immediately, I found myself back by that well in the scorching heat of the noon-day sun. No one would come to draw water at that time if they had a choice – but I didn’t. The other women of the village had made that clear. When a strange, dusty man asked me for a drink, all of my defenses went up. In my experience, men who talked to me – well, they weren’t really interested in conversation. And this man was clearly a Jew – a fact I reminded him of sharply as I turned away.

When he answered me, I thought at first he babbled like a fool. For one who moved with such quiet confidence, his words were strange. “If you knew the gift of God,” he said, “and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.” I confess, I mocked him to his face – how will you draw this water? Are you truly so great – you can do this without a bucket? But his next words and the knowingness of his gaze caught me. “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again,” he said, “but those who drink the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

To be honest, I still didn’t understand exactly what he was offering – I just knew I wanted it. Never to make the hot, humiliating, lonely mid-day trek to the well again – and maybe – something more. Something in me was drawing toward this man – but then he asked me to bring my husband to him. All of the old wounds re-surfaced, and I covered them with a polite lie. It didn’t work. He knew my entire ugly history – and, the most shocking thing was, I saw compassion rather than judgment in his eyes.

I tried just once more to hold him at bay – in a perverse way, I wanted him to remember that he was supposed to look down on me, like everyone else did. He just smiled at me in a way that seemed to recognize me as one of his own. “A time is coming,” he said, “and has now come when the true worshippers [‘when you,’ my heart whispered] will worship the Father in Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshippers that the Father seeks.”

Could it be? I finally drew close to him, saying with hesitant wonder, “I know that Messiah is coming. When he comes, he will explain everything to us.” He knew what I was asking. “I, the one speaking to you – I am he.”

His friends were uncomfortable when they returned to find us talking, so close together. I didn’t stay long – I needed to go anyway, to tell the others of my village, whether they would believe me or not – and as I ran away, I heard his friends urging him to eat. “My food,” he replied, “is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work.”

This is the man who changed my life – the one I heard cry out on the cross, “I thirst,” just moments before it was finished. You may find the words unremarkable – he was a man, after all. I know – I saw him, I even touched him – and men, especially men suffering as he did, thirst. But he looked at me as he said it, and I wonder if he wasn’t talking about something more. If he wasn’t reminding me once again to look more carefully, below the surface, beyond the obvious physical realities. I think he was talking about the desire of his heart and asking me once again to share a drink with him, this time from a much deeper well.

He hungered to do the will of his Father – wasn’t he thirsty for that as well? He offered me living water, a cooling draft that would draw me into the arms of his Father, the life of his Father – as he hung there, so very alone on that cross, didn’t he long for that as well? I am sure that many, more learned than I, will offer theories about which words of Scripture Jesus fulfilled today. They will offer scholarly proofs and persuasive commentary. All I can tell you is that as he spoke, my heart instinctively cried back in the words of the Psalmist: “As the deer pants for the water, so my soul pants for you… My soul thirsts for God, for the living God… When can I go and meet with God?”

Do you know what the soldiers offered Jesus in response to his cry of thirst? Vinegar. Rank, sour, disgusting… As angry as I am at that memory, do you know what I offered him that day so long ago? Essentially, the same thing. I never did draw him water, but I drenched him with my anger, my pain, my sin. And just like the vinegar, he took it and drank. Then he held out a cool cup brimming with forgiveness and new life.

I am told that on the night Jesus was betrayed, he took a cup of wine, and told his friends, “Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.” He takes our sin – and he offers us so much more in return. Nothing less than complete acceptance, total forgiveness, full restoration to life in the Spirit. It is a mystery, and I am only a woman, and a Samaritan at that – but this is what I have seen, this is what I have heard.

Brenna blogs at http://www.purpleforparenting.net/.

By Anonymous

What does it mean to be an abuse survivor and a Christian?

I’ve had good cause to wonder about this.

I am a survivor of emotional abuse. During the brief relationship I had with a young Christian man who went to my church, I was emotionally and mentally assaulted on an almost daily basis and told that I was bringing it on myself with my “crazy” behavior. By the time our relationship ended, I didn’t know down from up anymore. My entire sense of self was nearly obliterated by means of his chronic degradations. My entire reality was destabilized by him telling me that most of what I believed or experienced was wrong. What was worse, because he had endeavored to keep our relationship a “secret”, very few people knew we had even been together, let alone what he had done. I didn’t even understand the reality of what had been done to me until months later, and I had to resort to therapy in order to deal with the post traumatic stress disorder and hypervigilance that was interfering with my behavior every day. To make matters worse, going back to that church was not an option for me at the time. I felt at the time (and I still do) that it is not safe for me to be where he is, and opening myself up to the ridicule, blame, and disbelief that I felt I would experience from him and members of my church by exposing his abuse is simply not something I can face. I cannot even live in the same town right now; I live elsewhere.

I have been lucky enough to find a church family that affirms me where I am now. Therapy helps me to regain power over myself; as I do so, my need for vengeance against him diminishes. Forgiveness remains an open question, one I am amenable to in the future, but is simply not possible now. Kindly meant remarks such as “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle” and “Well, why didn’t you leave him?” serve to fuel my rage. God sure as hell didn’t give this to me. Furthermore, blaming the victim for being unable to understand or combat the violence that was inflicted on her or him remains counterproductive at best, outright cruel at worst.

I wonder what it means to be the body of Christ when abuse has happened within it. What was done to me was justified by him with crude moralistic weapons. It was compounded when certain people I trusted treated me like I must have done something to deserve it. Neither of these has anything to do with Jesus or his teachings; quite the opposite, in fact. Yet I find time after time that Christians, including people that I cared for and trusted in my church community, still hold these anti-Christian attitudes. Hence my fear, which in one sense is unfounded (for maybe I am not giving them enough credit) and in another sense is very much based in reality. I’ve seen what happens to women who accuse famous men of rape in the media. I’d rather not have something similar play out in my own life.

What does it mean to be a woman in the church? What does it mean to be silent about violence perpetrated within the church? There is no doubt in my mind that Christ is by my side, weeping tears with me, gently bringing every new healing into creation, holding me up when I feel I cannot go on. I am not so trustful of his followers. Something about having the most fragile parts of you violated makes you wary of trusting people again. My own mother could barely believe that this happened to me. In the early days of understanding, trying to sort through what had really happened, one of my classmates said, “It could happen to anyone. You’re not alone.” I am not alone. What does that mean for me? What does that mean for the church?

What does reconciliation mean?

I don’t know the answers to these questions. I know that my Creator came to destroy a system that is so firmly entrenched that even today, with all our so-called progress, survivors are afraid to speak up. I know that it is only in Christ that I will be healed and become whole again.

Today, March 8, is International Women’s Day – a day dedicated worldwide to recognizing the achievements of women. I wanted to highlight some of the posts women in our network created to honor the day. If you have a link you would like us to add, leave it in the comments and it will be added to the list.

Angie Muresan reflects on celebrating IWD in Romania– “When I was a child, every March 8 dawned fresh and glistening. In our country it was a national holiday, a celebration of being a woman, a mother, a wife, a colleague. Children at school worked on crafts and wrote letters to their mothers. Men brought flowers and chocolates for the females in their lives. Mothers sent children to school with bouquets of spring flowers for the female teachers, and after saying, “I kiss your hand,” the obligatory child to female adult greeting, we would give them the flowers.”

And she is hosting a book giveaway in honor of the day, so stop by her site!

Kathy Escobar writes on the power of being wanted – “there’s a strong and powerful undercurrent in the patriarchical, hierarchical systems that have permeated the church that says to women “we don’t really want you.” well, actually we do, but we want you “if you will play by our power rules” or to “do the grunt work that needs to get done, take care of the kids & keep the world spinning round at church & at home.” but we don’t really want all of you–your powerful, creative, beautiful gifts & powerful, wise, nurturing voice side-by-side us as equals together.”

Sonja Andrews takes on Women’s History Month – “But there is something about the idea of having the dominant population “allow” a month for women’s history or african-american history or whatever history that is vaguely unsettling. Because if the culturally dominant population is still in a position to allow this, then they are also in a position to take it back. Which means … they still hold all the power.”

Julie Clawson writes on why we need IWD – “But the fact remains, if women truly were treated as equals, valued for our contributions, respected for our ideas, and not assumed to be inferior or incapable in any way, then there would not need to be a day to bring attention to the achievements of women.”

And I have to add, Nicholas Kristof’s New York Times article today on three proven steps to advance the world’s women as a informative must read.