At first I thought it was kind of fun, and curiosity got the best of me (am I a hipster? I’ve never been hip before! What’s all this about?). I read the article and began to like it: I resonated with a lot of things McCracken’s “hipsters” stand for: concern for justice? Check. Community-centric focus? Yeah. Concern for creation care? That’s just common sense. A positive view of God’s creation? Yes. A passion for reading good books? Of course. So I dug a little deeper…apparently there are other characteristics of Christian hipsters, like hedonism, as McCracken explains:

“In order to be a hipster, one must be a rebel. Despite the fact that (ironically) hipster culture usually operates within and is sustained by the very structures it opposes, hipsterdom’s raison d’être is countercultural, boundary-pushing rebellion. As such, hipster existence is frequently rife with vices. If hipsters cannot completely overthrow the structures that bind them, they can at least destabilize them by engaging in hedonistic behavior: smoking, drinking, cursing, sexual experimentation, and so on. It’s about freedom, partying, and transgression—not in the Jersey Shore, frat-party sense (unless ironically), but in the “bourbon cask ales taste good and I don’t care if I get drunk” sense.”

Yeah, that’s not me. Then I took a “quiz” to determine exactly what “CHQ” (Christian Hipster Quotient–things are always cooler when they’re abbreviated) I have…I had a lot of free time…and these are some of the questions:

Your preferred house of worship would be: (a) A converted industrial warehouse with IKEA light fixtures and a corrugated steel coffee bar, (b) A pre-1950′s steeple church replete with pews, stained glass, and a conspicuously musty smell (c) Someone’s living room, with a few candles set out and (d) The auditorium of a school or college, rented by the church. Aren’t there a few more options in real life?

What would Jesus’ favorite beer have been? (a) Pabst (b) Chimay Red (c) Some sort of masculine stout (d) Jesus doesn’t drink! Did they even have beer in first century Palestine? And who drinks Pabst?

And my personal favorite: Which of the following reasons would prevent you from wearing a pair of skinny jeans? (a) Vaguely outmoded notions of modesty (b) Your gay friend wears them, which is cool, but … you know. (c) You can’t stand American Apparel. (d) You could never wear them better than the worship leader at your church. Well, let’s just say I have my reasons, and they don’t include these.

I began to get suspicious right about the time the quiz began asking me about my views on Thomas Kinkade.

I’m sure McCracken is a smart man who has done his research and has some good insight on the pulse of younger American Christians (or ‘Christ-followers’ if you’re a hipster, apparently). But why the need to lump us all into a “sub-culture”? Does that make us safer, easier to handle? Does he realize that as soon as you slap a label on something, it makes it easier for people to disregard it as a fad?

Are things like intellectual inquiry, passion for the history of our faith, care for the earth, care for the poor and marginalized, concern for rampant over-consumption and what it is doing to our planet, our people, our souls–are these things just “hip”? Or are they part and parcel of living in this world, at this time? Aren’t they things on which we should all at least form an intelligent opinion as citizens of the world?

The quiz told me I have a high CHQ, whatever that is. But I don’t want to go to church in a warehouse. I want to go to church in a church. And I don’t wear skinny jeans. No one wants to see that.

Want some unsolicited advice? Love God. Try to pattern your life after Christ. Care for your family. Be good to people. Find people who are wiser than you wherever you can, and listen to them. Try to fight the urge to consume, use, and discard. Go to church. Go anywhere you want, but go, regularly. Good things happen to your soul when you do. Read, and read well: newspapers, novels, books on theology and biblical studies, spiritual formation, philosophy. You’ll become a smarter person and you will be challenged and stretched. Read the Bible because it is the living, breathing, beautiful story of God at work in the world. And you’ll learn a lot. And don’t worry, please, about being hip.

When this hipster Christianity thing blows over, there will still be those of us who love to learn for learning’s sake, love our world, love God, and love God’s church. We may look different, listen to different music, meet in warehouses, houses, or churches, drink, or not. But be sure, the good stuff will last. Books by people like Eugene Peterson, Phyllis Tickle, Henri Nouwen, Kathleen Norris, James Houston, Thomas Merton, N. T. Wright, Donald Miller; Thomas a Kempis, Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, Benedict, Julian of Norwich–they’ll still be on the shelves. Stick with them and you’ll be okay.

Juan Mann gives out free hugs at Pitt Street Mall

This hug came from someone I had just met…literally, I saw her coming down the aisle after church and almost before I had a chance to say hello I was hugged; no time to attempt a handshake or a cordial “nice to meet you.” It was great. I should say she wasn’t unknown to me; she knows my husband and my story and was expecting to see me at some point, because we have common connections…but still, she was in no way obligated by social convention to give me more than a handshake. And in a moment, I was overcome by the joy that just came spilling out of her. And she didn’t just give me a quick hug either–she held on for a while, as if to say by her actions; “I am really, really happy you are here. Welcome!”

What a great moment. I won’t forget that. As I’ve been thinking about that moment, and the warm conversation that followed, I’m reminded of a quote I read recently from a little book of quotes by Mother Teresa;

“The password of the early Christians was joy, so let us still serve the Lord with joy. Joy is love, joy is prayer, joy is strength. God loves a person who gives joyfully, and if you give joyfully you always give more. A joyful heart is the result of a heart burning with love.

Works of love are always works of joy. We don’t need to look for happiness: if we have love for others we’ll be given it. It is the gift of God.”

Mother Teresa; from Meditations from A Simple Path (Ballantine Books, 1996), p. 65

This morning after church, I was taken up in joy. Enveloped, really. Generously and extravagantly. I am very grateful. I needed a hug.

The word comes from the Greek language and means, literally “to lead out.” When someone exegetes something, be it a word, a text, a culture, their dog, whatever, they are interpreting that thing or person; trying to figure out what it means, turning it over to look at it from other angles and perspectives–getting outside themselves long enough to get inside of whatever is being interpreted.

So does this practice require depth of character? This is what I’ve been thinking about. And this is what has occurred to me. In order to interpret something, anything, you have to be able to understand that something first. And you can’t understand something well until you know the language. I remember before I had my son I could listen to a toddler babble on and have no idea what the kid was saying–it all sounded like slobbery gobbledy-gook to me; and I was always awed to see the kid’s mom walk over, listen to a few nonsense syllables and say; “Oh, you would like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on whole grain bread with milk? Okay, honey, let me get it for you!”

Now that I have a little one, I understand it. You see, I live with my son. I observe him, watch him, listen to every little sound that comes out of his mouth. I know what he likes and doesn’t like. I know what he is afraid of and what makes him happy. I know his language. So even though probably most people couldn’t catch a word he was saying a year ago or so, when he was two and just learning to speak, I could. Because I knew him so well.

I think it’s the same thing with exegeting (interpreting) something; be it a text, a person, a culture, whatever. You need to live with it; observe, learn the language, watch, pay attention, get over yourself…and maybe that’s where the depth comes in. It takes patience, time, and enough self-confidence to put your own perspectives, biases, assumptions, needs, desires down on the table, for a while, so that you can clearly listen to what or whoever it is that you are trying to understand. Because in reality, interpretation is conversation. You bring all of yourself, your experiences, intellect, interests, passions, biases and assumptions, and lay it out on the table, expecting the person or text across from you to do the same. You respect the other; listen, learn, observe, question, probe, and eventually you are able to interpret.

So maybe it is true that “to be a better exegete you must become a deeper person.” Maybe the world needs better exegetes…

The Biblical World: Does God really call women to Ministry?.

Thoughts? Comments?

Well, the Psalmist does…several times…it’s a key feature in the Psalms, in fact. Balentine weaves rabbinical stories, poetry, fiction, and prose (from one of my favorite authors, Kathleen Norris) in his fascinating treatment of this Psalm.

What I want to focus on is a closing question of his:

“We seem to have settled, like [Wendell] Berry’s fictional preacher, Brother Preston, for truths that connect us to the ‘hereafter’ but sever us from the grief and despair of the ‘here and now.’ Sadly, such ministry leaves far too many unaddressed, uncomforted.” And later; “Who will stand before God and say, ‘Turn, O Lord! How long?’ Such questions, of course, only beg another; who knows how God will respond to those who do so?”

Balentine closes his article with a poem by R. S. Thomas, “Threshold,” which beautifully describes the craggy edge of the precipice between the safe and the dangerous; between the silence and the question–how long?

I emerge from the mind’s
cave into the worse darkness
outside, where things pass and
the Lord is none of them.

I have heard the still small voice
and it was that of the bacteria
demolishing my cosmos. I
have lingered too long on

this threshold, but where can I go?
To look back is to lose the soul
I was leading upwards towards
the light. To look forward? Ah,

what balance is needed at
the edges of an abyss.
I am alone on the surface
of a turning planet. What

to do but, like Michelangelo’s
Adam, put my hand
out into unknown space,
hoping for the reciprocating touch?
R. S. Thomas, “Threshold,” Poems of R. S. Thomas (Fayetteville: University of Arkansas Press, 1985), 149-150.

Biblical Foundation for Women in Ministry and Leadership: A Brief Study.

I happily admit my bias as one who enthusiastically supports freedom in many areas, and in this case with regard to women in ministry; I strongly believe that if someone has a gift that can uplift the body of Christ, they  should be free to use it, regardless of gender. This article is a strong elucidation of the scriptural, theological, and cultural reasons to support it. Of course, not everyone agrees with this view. But I encourage you to have a look, whatever side of the fence you spend time on.

What do you think about this issue? If you take another view, what support do you have to back up your view? I would like to hear from you, either way…

I don’t know if we will end up worshiping at our local Brethren in Christ church. We are still in the early stages of our search. But I like what I am seeing so far…

Among many inflammatory things, Rice stated that “I remain committed to Christ as always, but not to being ‘Christian’ or being part of Christianity. It’s simply impossible for me to ‘belong’ to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious and deservedly infamous group. For 10 years, I’ve tried. I’ve failed. I’m an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else.”

I can understand why she, and many others, are walking away. We are a contentious lot. Like everybody else I know, we’re human. I have lots of reasons to walk away too. Pretty much everyone who has ever hurt me has called him or herself a Christian. So I get it…but on balance, I have been encouraged, blessed, uplifted, loved, forgiven and held up by followers of Christ far more than I have been hurt. So I hang in there. I can’t get away from the crazy reality that this is the way Jesus designed it. For reasons which at times I cannot fathom, God has entrusted humans with God’s Church. So I hang in there. Still, Rice’s words do strike me as prophetic. She deserves to be listened to…

So I ask you; what do you think? And please, no demeaning, demonizing, or otherwise ragging on Rice. She’s a big girl and can make her own decisions. Whatever we may think of her decision, she’s still part of the family. Should we give up on the Church? Should we reform it? What are we to do? I’d love to hear your opinion.

I’ve been hooked lately on this wildly popular show on the Discovery Channel called Deadliest Catch. It’s about hard-scrabble sailors who fish for crab on Alaska’s Bering Sea. Life is hard out there and metaphor is cold, wet, jarring reality. Storms can kill you out there.

The past couple of weeks the show has focused on the illness and death of one of the best loved skippers in the fleet: Phil Harris of the Cornelia Marie. Last night I was up till 1 am glued to the TV as they showed episode after episode focused on his life, his ship, his sons, his crew, his death. He died young, at the age of 53, this past January. His sons are young. Too young for this.

I watched as the footage rolled by–in one scene Josh, the eldest son, sits in a monochromatic box of a room with a doctor as all the words wash over him: “I tried for over an hour,” “we need to make a decision,” “we’ve done all we could do”–those kinds of words. Then all the questions come: who to call first, what arrangements to make, when will it all happen. They all come, all at once. I’ve been there.

My dad was a couple years older than Phil when he died. I’ve lost both my parents; my mother to a long, cruel, crippling illness at the age of 42, my father to a sudden, massive heart attack at 55. So I relate to Josh Harris’ experience; I’ve been in that room, heard all those words, was part of all those decisions and conversations. I’ve felt the shock, confusion; the in-the-moment race to get it all done, all the while muscling away, for the moment, the deep and gnawing sense that something is very, very wrong.

We are born, we stick around for a while, and we die. It happens, right? It’s the way of things. And yet there’s no getting used to it. Every time death surprises us. We just can’t imagine that this is the way things are, for everybody, all the time. At least I can’t.

I am not sure whether it’s different when people live long lives. Most of the people in my family have tended to die young. But even in the few cases where those I love have lived long, full lives, it still felt wrong, like there should have been more time. Unfinished.

After my dad died, I spend some time wondering whether I should just give up on God. I could never reject the idea of God entirely, I just wasn’t sure whether I still wanted anything to do with Him. After so much pain, I was just tired. You’ve been there, haven’t you?

God stayed with me, waited, and eventually, at the right time, reminded me of who I am. So I came back to Him.

And in the meantime, I came to realize why I couldn’t really give up on God. I can’t live without hope. If we really believe in God, if we trust God, we hope in God. And that hope, ultimately, is in the truth that someday, all that is very, very wrong will be made right, because we are loved. We are not forgotten. We are not alone.

I’ve spent much of my life already studying scripture, following God, holding on to my faith, my hope. It has been very hard. Why have I done this? Because of words like this: Reunion. Reconciliation. Resurrection. All things new and all the time in the world and beyond to enjoy them. Someday there will be something like a great banquet, and the people I have loved will be there; those I have lost and those who have lost me. We’ll finally be together. Relationship. All things new. Forever.

That’s what it all boils down to, at least to me. I grieve with the Harris boys. They’re too young for this. I pray for reunion for them, someday.

This post is not about who gets in and who doesn’t, who’s right and who’s wrong. I don’t know about that, beyond what I’ve read and believe from scripture. And it’s God’s decision anyway. So I’d rather not worry about it. All I know is, I’ve spent a lot of time questioning, raging, wondering, and searching. And to me, in the end, nothing makes sense without a loving God.

1. My family and I just moved several hundred miles across the country. This means that I spend most of my time these days cleaning, unpacking, furniture shopping and trying to get my son to go to bed.

2. My laptop (also known as “Krista’s link to the outside world”) is mostly dead. I am sending it back to the manufacturer, hoping they have a chocolate-covered pill that will bring it back to life (and that they have one of those cool New York City yiddish accents). But until then, my posts will be sparse.

Enjoy your summer friends! I’ll be in touch soon…

Don Miller’s dog, Lucy, is making a guest appearance on his blog for the next few days…this is her telling of the day Don took her home. She’s a very eloquent dog! Take a look at this sweet story and consider; have you ever been picked? What was it like? Scary? Exciting? Did you really want to be picked in the first place?

Donald Miller’s Blog.

I think it’s like that sometimes with the life of faith in God. One day we realize what we’ve really gotten ourselves into and we wish we had never taken the red pill (to use a Matrix analogy). Pain surprises us–the pain of being chosen. And then after a while, God surprises us with the truth that we really are his Beloved. It’s a surprising journey. What has that journey been like for you?