Emerging Women

By Jenny Rae Armstrong

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it really means to be a Christian, and about the challenges of being or calling oneself a Christian in American society. As a missionary kid in Liberia, I had friends from many different nations, cultures, and faiths, and was faced early with the fact that many good, devout people believed very differently than I did. The sincerity and devotion of my Muslim, Buddhist, and Jain friends challenged me. They held tight to the doctrines they were taught from infancy, lived out their faith in the ways prescribed by their sacred books and cultures.

I couldn’t help but wonder, was I any different? I had been born to Christian parents in the backwoods of Wisconsin, and I believed in Jesus with all my heart. But if I had been born in Taiwan, like my friend Yu-San, would I be a Buddhist? If I had been born in the Cameroon, like my friend Mohammed, would I be a Muslim?

The answer made me uncomfortable. I figured that if I was going to ask Yu-San or Mohammed to reconsider their beliefs, to be willing to chuck everything they had been taught by the people they loved the most out the window, I had better be willing to do the same. To ask questions. To regard my culture with a critical eye. To be willing to temper my “worldview” with as much logical and emotional distance as I could muster.

That was a very good thing, a refining and refocusing of my faith. And honestly, I think this is an are where “third culture kids,” children who are raised in a culture that is not their own, have an advantage. They are the perpetual outsiders, savvy anthropologists who don’t fit into their home or host cultures (whichever is which). Everyone sees the world through their own pair of glasses, the lenses focused by education, experience, and cultural expectations–it’s just that third culture kids tend to have several pairs lying around, and find it easier to change them at will.

Anyhow. Fast forward twenty years, to a sleepy little county in Northern Wisconsin. Churches abound, their libraries stocked with books on developing a “Christian worldview” (invariably written by evangelical Protestant males of European descent). Christian novels, Christian newspapers, Christian music, Christian tee-shirts, Christian dietary supplements (?!) are everywhere. Politicians on both sides of the aisle season their speeches with oblique allusions to their Christian faith, in the hopes that if they can just brush the hem of Jesus’ garment, some of his glory will rub off on their agendas. And while not everyone in Douglas County, Wisconsin would claim to be a Christian, there are precious few of them who would claim to be anything else, a Muslim, or a Hindu, or a Buddhist.

My question is, how is it possible to be a Christian in a place like this? How is it possible to tell the difference between your faith and your culture when they are, for all intensive purposes, one and the same? I’m overstating the point, obviously, but our preconceptions of what it means to be a Christian are HUGE. Do we assume Christians talk a certain way? Vote a certain way? Dress a certain way? Drink (or not drink!) a certain way? If we’re honest, most of us would question the salvation of a man seen swigging alcohol at a party with prostitutes. Good thing Jesus didn’t need to be saved.

If we strip away the preconceptions, take off our glasses and try our hardest to step outside our carefully crafted worldview, what are we left with? Is it enough? Is your faith built on the shifting sand of cultural Christianity, on what you’ve heard at church, from loved ones, on Christian media or from the latest Beth Moore Bible study? If those same sources told you something different, would you believe differently?

Or is your faith built on something that doesn’t change, on the salvation of God through the person of Jesus, as revealed through scripture?

It’s not an easy question to answer, and it can be hard to see Jesus through the religion that sprung up around him. I struggle with this constantly–I even struggle to remember to struggle, to keep searching for more and more of God instead of settling into the warm, familiar comfort of American “churchianity.” But I am afraid that the American church has been lulled to sleep by a false sense of security, that instead of running the race with perseverance, we’re playing the hare and hunkering down for a theological snooze, certain of our innate superiority and inevitable victory.

I guess what I’m really asking is have we put our faith in Jesus, or have we put our faith in Christianity? And which would we choose if (and when) the two are at odds?

If you’re not sure you can tell the difference between the two, a good place to start would be by reading the Gospels–Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John–in long, uninterrupted hunks, so you can get a sense of the big picture unfolding in each book, instead of little snatches of verses read out of order and out of context. Study Jesus–viewing the church through the lens of the Gospels, instead of vice-versa, can be very enlightening. I’m going to be kicking off my 2010 Bible reading with another pass through the Gospels, to refresh my focus on the person of Jesus. It’s just so, so easy to lose sight of him…

Jenny Rae Armstrong is a freelance writer and musician. She and her husband Aaron own DeepWater Music (www.deepwatermusic.net) and live in Northern Wisconsin with their four little boys. This post originally appeared at her blog jennyraearmstrong.blogspot.com.

By Adele Hebert

There are few words spoken by women in these gospels, but many tears are shed and recorded, mostly by women, some even by Jesus, the man of sorrows. The fact that all these tears are detailed says that God values all our precious tears, whether for joy or sorrow. Psalm 56:8 tells us that, “God knows our troubles and our wanderings, stores all our tears in a bottle, has counted each one of them, and they are recorded in the Book.”

The beginning of the New Testament opens with glad tidings, the announcement of two children, which brought tears of joy to Elizabeth and Mary. This joy would be short lived for Mary, as Joseph tells her that he will put her away her quietly. The betrothed was heartbroken, to say the least. An angel in a dream restores their marriage. After Jesus is born, Mary and Joseph bring the child to the temple, and it is prophesied to Mary that, “a sword will pierce your soul.” Lk 2:35. When Jesus was missing for days, she would have been beside herself with worry, but Mary would experience many more tears.

Following the joyful birth of Jesus, other women are not so lucky. Mt 2:18 “A voice is heard in Ramah, lamenting and weeping bitterly: it is Rachel weeping for her children, refusing to be comforted because they are no more.” Those women were bereft; Herod had given the order; the soldiers had killed their babies.

There was a woman in Lk 7:37-44, “who had a bad name… and had brought with her an alabaster jar of ointment. She waited behind him at his feet, weeping, and her tears fell on his feet, and she wiped them away with her hair; then she covered his feet with kisses and anointed them with the ointment. ‘You see this woman? I came into your house, and you poured no water over my feet, but she has poured out her tears over my feet and wiped them away with her hair.” Jesus was touched by her tears.

There was another woman, taken in adultery, Jn 8:1-11. This woman would have been shocked, sobbing uncontrollably, knowing she would be stoned.

A man named Jairus, a ruler of the synagogue, had a daughter who died. Lk 8:52 “They were all crying and mourning for her, but Jesus said, ‘Stop crying; she is not dead, but asleep.” No doubt the woman who touched his hem, and was healed of her hemorrhage for 12 years would have rejoiced. Other women who would have wept with joy are the Syrophoenecian woman whose daughter was cured, the widow of Nain whose son was brought back to life and given back to her, the woman who had a crooked back for 18 years… and many more who heard the wonderful words of their Lord.

Jesus was friends with Martha, Mary and Lazarus. When Lazarus died, everyone wept. Even Jesus wept. Jn 11 says, “When the Jews who were in the house comforting Mary saw her get up so quickly and go out, they followed her, thinking that she was going to the tomb to weep there. Mary went to Jesus, and as soon as she saw him she threw herself at his feet, saying, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’ At the sight of her tears, and those of the Jews who had come with her, Jesus was greatly distressed, and with a profound sigh he said, ‘Where have you put him?’ They said, ‘Lord, come and see.’ Jesus wept; and the Jews said, ‘See how much he loved him!’ Sighing, Jesus thanked God.”

In Lk 23:28 Women wailed, “But Jesus turned to them and said, ‘Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep rather for yourselves and for your children.” He had such deep concern for mothers and their children.

There is no telling how many tears were shed at that cross or the tomb, by Mary the Mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalene and the other women. Their grief would have been unbearable. But on Resurrection morning, their tears of sorrow turn to shouts of joy.

Mk 16:1 says, “When the Sabbath was over, Mary of Magdala, Mary the mother of James, and Salome, bought spices with which to go and anoint him.” These women were still mourning for Jesus. Tears are louder than words.

Jn 20 says (twice) to Mary Magdalene, “Woman, why are you weeping?” Then he called her name, “Mary, go and tell them: I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’ So Mary of Magdala told the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord’.” Mk 16:10 “Mary Magdalene then went to those who had been his companions, and who were mourning and in tears, and told them.”

Apparently it was important to mention even in Acts 9:39 that, “all the widows stood round him in tears, showing him tunics and other clothes Dorcas had made when she was with them.” Another woman was brought back to life. Our tears are not for naught.
Jesus paid attention to all the tears; he saw them; he acknowledged them; he even cried with them. There are many tears in the NT, which says that Jesus knows our suffering, he hears our cries. Jesus also promised in Jn 16:22, “Now you are having pain. But I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you.”
Rev 21:4 says, “God will wipe away every tear from our eyes. There will be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain for the former things are passed away.”

Thank God all our tears are recorded; each tear is counted, for our consolation. Jesus hears our cries; Jesus sees our tears. Jesus even cries with us.

Adele Hebert is an independent scholar, who lives in northern Alberta, Canada. Adele has been writing articles, bible studies and editing Christian books, all about how Jesus loves women. Adele has helped God’s Word to Women website, Christians for Biblical Equality, and recently worked with Leonard Swidler on his latest book, Jesus Was A Feminist. Currently Adele is writing a series of bible studies on how Jesus gave women a voice.