Writing, like faith, means living the questions

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As promised, today’s post is the first in a four-part series about writing. I receive so many emails and Facebook messages from fellow writers looking for tips on how to get published, build a platform and hone the craft, I thought it might be fun to spend a few days on the topic. My hope is that even if you’re not a writer, you will learn a little something about yourself, about creativity, or about this magnificent world from which we writer-types draw our inspiration


Many of us who have wrestled with tough questions about our faith share a favorite quote from Rainer Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet

Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day.

I was once asked in an interview to unpack this statement, to explain what is meant by “live the questions,” and I was surprised to find that my mind immediately jumped to the writing process, specifically to another favorite quote, this from Anne Lamott in her excellent book, Bird by Bird. In a chapter famously titled “Shitty First Drafts,” Lamott gives this advice to writers:

The first draft is the child’s draft, where you let it all out and then let it romp all over the place, knowing that no one is going to see it and that you can shape it later…Just get it all down on paper, because there may be something great in those six crazy pages that you would never have gotten to by more rational, grown-up means. There may be something in the very last line of the very last paragraph on page six that you just love, that is so beautiful or wild that you now know what you’re supposed to be writing about, more or less, or in what direction you might go—but there was no way to get to this without first getting through the first five and a half pages. 

In another chapter she describes the process perfectly: 

You look up and stare out the window again, but this time you are drumming your fingers on the desk, and you don’t care about those first three pages; those you will throw out, those you needed to write to get to that fourth page, to get to that one long paragraph that was what you had in mind when you started, only you didn’t know that, couldn’t know that, until you   got to it. And the story begins to materialize, and another thing is happening, which is that you are learning what you aren’t writing, and this is helping you find out what you are writing.

As a writer, I spend about 90 percent of my time figuring out what I want to say and 10 percent of my time saying it. The casualties of this process are pages and pages and pages of work that never see the light of day. All that time lost would be enough to bring me to despair if I didn’t know the secret—that I had to write those four or five angsty, wandering pages to get to the page that matters, the one that says something true. I had to “live the questions,” as it were, in order to find the answer.

The trick is learning to patient with this process, to forgive myself when it takes me longer than it should, and to leave myself plenty of time to write. 

This is good advice for writers, I think, and even better advice for people of faith. 

A pastor once told me that looking to the Psalms for solidarity in doubt is a misguided effort because David eventually resolved all his questions to find peace in God. Psalms of despair usually end with praise, he said, so praise is the only fitting prayer for the true believer. 

This “skip ahead” mentality invalidates the very real experiences of King David and implies that we too can simply hop on over to the sunnier meadows of our faith journey without crossing the tough terrain that leads us there, without working through our “first drafts.”

What this pastor didn’t realize is that there would likely be no “I trust in your unfailing love” without “How long, oh Lord, will you hide your face from me forever?” David, as a writer and as a man of faith, had to live the questions first. How fitting that Jesus, when he hung on the cross, remembered David’s most agonizing question: “My God, My God, Why have you forsaken me?” The pain of the cross was no less real because resurrection was around the corner. In fact, the pain of the cross was necessary for resurrection. 

Writing has taught me a special kind of patience that I am finally learning to apply to my faith. I find myself repeating the same mantras on a day of doubt that I repeat on a day of writer’s block: Be patient. Don’t rush it. Live the questions. Let this play out. 

And every now and then, after many hours or many years, I bump into something so beautiful and wild, I know I could never have gotten to it by more rational, grownup means. 


What does it mean to you to “live the questions”? Do you ever try and rush the process—in writing or in faith?



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Summer, in a Word...

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I'll start:


Your turn....



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Better Conversations About “Biblical Womanhood” (Part 2)

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So yesterday I pushed back a little bit at Tim Challies and those in the biblical womanhood movement who teach that the Bible speaks against women “letting themselves go.”  I noted that part of the problem is that we have grown so accustomed to using the word “biblical” prescriptively (to mean, “what God wants”) rather than descriptively (to mean, “that which is found in the Bible”), we have forgotten that behind every claim to a biblical lifestyle or ideology lies a complex set of assumptions regarding interpretation and application.

Somehow we’ve gotten stuck in the wrong conversation. We’re arguing about whether a “biblical woman” should wear stained t-shirts or nice sweaters for her husband when what we should really be asking is, “What do we mean by ‘biblical woman’?”  When we turn the Bible into an adjective and stick in front of another loaded word (like “womanhood,” “politics,” “economics,” and “marriage”) more often than not, we end up more committed to what we want the Bible to say than what it actually says.

So how do we move the conversation forward? How do we ground the word "biblical" in reality? 

I think we have to start by acknowledging the fact that we all experience a few involuntary reflexes when we read the Bible: 

1. We Project: 

In this most recent case, the issue in question is never even addressed in the Bible, and yet authors like Mark Driscoll, Dorothy, Patterson, and Martha Peace have described physical beauty as an element of “biblical womanhood.”  This reveals our shared tendency to project onto the text our cultural and personal assumptions or to distort the text until it fits into a presupposed ideal.  (I am familiar with this tendency because I am guilty of it too!) 

It reminds me of folks who argue that free market capitalism is “biblical” when such a system did not even exist at the time the Bible was written.  I understand that what they are trying to say is that this economic philosophy is compatible with “biblical principles.” But even our notion of what constitutes “biblical principles” is selective and profoundly affected by our culture, our tradition, our projections, our experience, and our biases.

 2. We Select:

When it comes to biblical interpretation and application, Christians have developed a funny habit of accusing one another of “picking and choosing” when the reality is, we all pick and choose. We all employ a bit of selective literalism when applying the Bible to our lives.

Let’s not forget that, technically speaking, it is biblical for a woman to be sold by her father to pay off debt,biblical for her to be forced to marry her rapist, biblical for her to remain silent in church, biblical for her to cover her head in prayer, and biblical for her to be one of many wives.

I’ve been reminded of this frequently this year as I’ve been attempting to take all of the Bible’s instructions for women as literally as possible and as I’ve been interviewing women from a variety of religious backgrounds—from an Amish housewife, to an Orthodox Jew, to a stay-at-home-daughter, to a Quiverfull mom, to a pastor, to a polygamist. Each of these women has made lifestyle decisions based on the Bible…and yet none of their lives look exactly the same. 

Most of us are doing the best we can to pick and choose in a way that honors God and reveres the text, but this is an inexact science. There is no single “biblical” lifestyle, and we must regard any claims to such a thing as inherently selective. 

So let’s move the conversation way from “I don’t pick and choose; you pick and choose!” to “So why do we pick and choose the way that we do?” ….Cause that’s when things start to get interesting!

3.  We lose things in translation: 

It drives me crazy when people talk about “the plain meaning of Scripture” when most of them are not reading the Bible in its original language or cultural context. This can get especially troublesome when we are struggling to interpret and apply passages about women that were written in a patriarchal culture very foreign to us today. 

I like what John Walton says about this in The Lost World of Genesis One

We like to think of the Bible possessively—my Bible, a rare heritage, a holy treasure, a spiritual heirloom. And well se should. The Bible is fresh and speaks to each of us as God’s revelation of himself in a confusing world. It is ours and at times feels quite personal. But we cannot afford to let this idea run away with us.

The Old Testament does communicate to us and it was written for us, and for all humankind. But it was not written to us. It was written to Israel.

We must remember that every poem, every letter, every list of laws, and every historical account of the Bible had an intended audience that shaped its content. So before we go and mine the Bible for verses about women and then apply them universally as elements of “biblical womanhood,” we’ve got to humbly acknowledge our own limitations in applying an ancient text to modern times. 

4. We reduce:

To suggest that a collection of ancient texts, written by multiple authors and in multiple genres, spanning thousands of years and countless cultural contexts provides a single, uniform prescription for how to be a woman is absolutely ridiculous. The Bible is much more interesting than that! 

At the heart of a prescriptive use of the word “biblical” is a desire to simplify—to reduce the Bible’s cacophony of voices into a single tone, to turn a complicated and at times troubling holy text into a list of bullet points we can put in a manifesto. 

 Trying to summarize what the Bible says about something is not necessarily wrong, of course. Often it’s the quickest and most efficient way to communicate about something. We just have to be wary of ignoring the parts that don’t fit to the point that we forget them…or of relying so heavily on someone else’s summary that we never stop to read the Bible for ourselves! 

 Every now and then we need a good, old-fashioned reality check. Complementarians have to deal with Deborah’s leadership of Israel. Egalitarians have to deal with Paul’s advice to Timothy. The story of the dismembered concubine in Judges 19 is as much a part of “biblical womanhood” as stories about Esther and Ruth. When Abigail is heralded as an example of godly submission, let’s not forget the fact that she was just one of David’s eight wives (and at least ten concubines). Passages about women submitting to male leadership are sandwiched between passages instructing slaves to obey their masters. Paul’s instructions for women to cover their heads in prayer are stated as emphatically as his instructions for them to submit to male leadership. 

Reality checks keep us humble and prevent us from making idols of our own interpretations.

As I’ve said before, I am suspicious of those who say the Bible never troubles them. I can only assume this means they haven’t read it. 

5. We bring more to the table:

Honestly, when I look at the Bible, I see a lot more passages that seem to support slavery than seem to oppose it. Slave owners in the American South did a great job of using these verses to claim that slavery was indeed “biblical.” And yet somehow, as a church, we managed to work our way around these passages because of shared sense of right and wrong, some kind of community agreement. 

My Catholic readers will love this, but I think Protestants sometimes live in denial about the fact that we don’t rely exclusively on Scripture to arrive at moral conclusions. Tradition, experience, and reason all play a part in our understanding of God and our interpretation of his Word. Often, when we say that something is “biblical” (meaning “what God wants”), we will find that our conclusions reflect a blending of biblical content, conscience, cultural assumptions, and theological commitments. And that’s okay—as long as we admit it. 

So, do I think we should get rid of the word “biblical” altogether?

Probably not. 

But I think it’s time to change the conversation. 

My goal in writing this book about “biblical womanhood” is to do that. I hope that the stories of my misadventures—the  long hair, the head covering, the “red tent,” the epic Proverbs 31 fail, the broken apple pie, the trip to Amish country, the silence in church, the jar of contention, the crisis of faith—will invite women (and men!) to cut themselves and one another some slack. 

None of us are living 100% biblically. 

We all project. 

We all select. 

We all have a habit of reducing the Bible and ignoring its cultural context.

And we all have some baggage—some of it good, some of it bad—to bring to the table. 

So let’s stop throwing the word “biblical” around like we’ve got it all figured out, and admit for a moment that we don’t. 

...Because I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a better conversation. 


So how can we talk about the Bible in ways that are more productive and honest? What do we do about using the word "biblical"? Is there a better way to say what we mean?



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