Help! I need your thoughts on the future of evangelicalism so I can impress Roger Olson

So I’m pretty excited because on Monday, March 11, I’ll be partnering with Roger Olson and George Fox Seminary for what promises to be a fascinating conversation about the future of evangelicalism. 

From the George Fox Web site:  In a time when “evangelical” has more of a political connotation than a convictional connotation, we need bright voices that can help sort through the noise and imagine a way forward for those who call themselves evangelical Roger E. Olson is professor of theology at Truett Theological Seminary in Waco, Texas. Rachel Held Evans is a blogger, speaker, and author of Evolving in Monkey Town and A Year of Biblical Womanhood. Together they will discuss whether there is a future for evangelicalism and, if so, what the future might entail.

Sounds interesting, right?

If only I knew what I was going to say!

I’m counting on my friend Roger to bring his historical and theological insight to the conversation, which means I’ll be sharing a bit more from a personal perspective, incorporating my own story with some of your stories  to make some general observations about what I think is happening in evangelicalism and why some of it makes me excited and some of it causes concern. I confess this isn’t as easy task, as debating my evangelical status has become something of a sport among Reformed bloggers, and a big part of me is just ready to toss the label and stick with something simple, like Christ follower….or maybe “it’s complicated.”

I wrote a post about the future of evangelicalism two years ago, and not much has changed….except that now I see a more defined stream of young, post-evangelical Christians finding their home in the Anabaptist tradition, which I think is exciting. I think of folks like Shane Claiborne and organizations like Red Letter Christians leading the way in this, not to mention the possibility of Greg Boyd and Woodland Hill's  joining either the Mennonite Church USA or the Brethren in Christ, which speaks volumes. I too am drawn to the Anabaptist tradition and believe it has something really special to offer Christians who are tired of the culture wars, as well as something important to say about how a post-Christian culture in the U.S. might actually be good for the Church.  If there was a progressive Mennonite congregation in our community, I’d probably be a part of it. (I've tried to convince my friend Kurt Willems to plant his church here instead of the West coast..because Dayton, Tennessee and Seattle, Washington are pretty much the same.) 

Anyway, I’d like to spend the weekend getting together my thoughts on this, and since a large percentage of you are smarter than I am, I figured I’d get your input. Know that I may quote you directly in my presentation, with attribution of course.

So here are my questions for you. Feel free to take a stab at one or all of them…or to go off on your own tangent. It’s a free country.

1.     Do you identify yourself as an evangelical? Why or why not? How do you feel about religious labels in general?

2.     How would you define evangelicalism?

3.     What are some of your greatest concerns for evangelicalism? And what are some of your biggest hopes?

4.     Do you know what Roger Olson’s favorite candy is? Because I think I’m going to owe him one for compensating for my lack of expertise on this. :-)

Note: You can register for the event at George Fox here. It's open to the public

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The Scandal of the Evangelical Heart

'heart texture' photo (c) 2009, Steven  Kay - license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

“It’s right for God to slaughter women and children anytime he pleases. God gives life and he takes life. Everybody who dies, dies because God wills that they die.” 

– John Piper

“Belief in a cruel God makes a cruel man.” 

– Thomas Paine

It’s strange to think that doubt has been a part of my life for more than ten years now.

I remember when it first showed up—a dark grotesque with a terrifying smile that took up so much space, catching every payer in its gravitational pull. That I could grow accustomed to its presence seemed impossible at the time, and yet I have. It  hasn’t changed in size, but somehow it occupies less space. I smile back at it now.

A lot of people, when they catch pieces of my story, assume my doubts are of the intellectual variety. They assume I’m just a smart girl stuck in the Bible Belt asking pesky questions about science, history and politics that my conservative evangelical culture, with a bent toward anti-intellectualism, simply cannot answer.

This is true to an extent. I’ve wrestled with a lot of questions related to science and faith, especially given my location a mere two miles from the famous Rhea County Courthouse where John Scopes was prosecuted for teaching evolution in a public school.  While I no longer believe the earth is just 6,000 years old, I still live in the tension of unanswered questions about the universe, and death, and brains, and Neanderthals, and whatever Neil deGrasse Tyson’s got to say on public television about the earth getting burned up by the sun or our species going extinct after an asteroid hits.  I have questions too about history and Christianity’s emergence from it, questions about the Bible, questions about miracles.

But the questions that have weighed most heavily on me these past ten years have been questions not of the mind but of the heart, questions of conscience and empathy. It was not the so-called “scandal of the evangelical mind” that rocked my faith; it was the scandal of the evangelical heart.

If you’ve read Evolving in Monkey Town, you know that the public execution of a woman named Zarmina in Afghanistan marked a turning point in my faith journey. The injustice of the situation was troublesome enough, but when my friends insisted that Zarmina went to hell because she was a Muslim, I began wrestling with some serious questions about heaven, hell, predestination, free will, God’s goodness, and religious pluralism.

Evangelical apologists were quick to respond. And while their answers made enough sense in my head; they never sat right with my soul.

Why would God fashion a person in her mother’ s womb, number the hairs on her head, and then leave her without any hope of salvation? Can salvation be boiled down to luck of the draw? How is that just? Shouldn't  God be more loving and compassionate than I?

Oh, the Calvinists could make perfect sense of it all with a wave of a hand and a swift, confident explanation about how Zarmina had been born in sin and likely predestined to spend eternity in hell to the glory of an angry God (they called her a “vessel of destruction”); about how I should just be thankful to be spared the same fate since it’s what I deserve anyway; about how the Asian tsunami was just another one of God’s temper tantrums sent to remind us all of His rage at our sin; about how I need not worry because “there is not one maverick molecule in the universe” so every hurricane, every earthquake, every war, every execution, every transaction in the slave trade, every rape of a child is part of God’s sovereign plan, even God’s idea; about how my objections to this paradigm represented unrepentant pride and a capitulation to humanism that placed too much inherent value on my fellow human beings; about how my intuitive sense of love and morality and right and wrong is so corrupted by my sin nature I cannot trust it.

They said all of this without so much of a glimmer of a tear, and it scared me to death.  It nearly scared me out of the Church.  

For what makes the Church any different from a cult if it demands we sacrifice our conscience in exchange for unquestioned allegiance to authority?  What sort of God would call himself love and then ask that I betray everything I know in my bones to be love in order to worship him? Did following Jesus mean becoming some shadow of myself, drained of empathy and compassion and revulsion to injustice?

Perhaps in reaction to the “scandal of the evangelical mind,” evangelicalism of late has developed a general distrust of emotion when it comes to theology. So long as an idea seems logical, so long as it fits consistently with the favored theological paradigm, it seems to matter not whether it is morally reprehensible at an intuitive level. I suspect this is why this new breed of rigid Calvinism that follows the “five points” to their most logical conclusion, without regard to the moral implications of them, has flourished in the past twenty years.  (I heard a theology professor explain the other day that he had no problem whatsoever with God orchestrating evil acts to accomplish God’s will, for that is what is required for God to be fully sovereign! When asked if this does not make God something of a monster, he responded that it didn’t matter; God is God—end of story.) And I suspect this explains why, in the wake of the Sandy Hook tragedy, so many evangelical leaders responded like Job’s friends, eager to offer theological explanations for what happened instead of simply sitting down in the ashes and weeping with their brothers and sisters.

Richard Beck has also observed this phenomenon and refers to it as “orthodox alexithymia”: 

When theology and doctrine become separated from emotion we end up with something dysfunctional and even monstrous.
A theology or doctrinal system that has become decoupled from emotion is going to look emotionally stunted and even inhuman.  What I'm describing here might be captured by the tag "orthodox alexithymia." By "orthodox" I mean the intellectual pursuit of right belief. And by "alexithymia" I mean someone who is, theologically speaking, emotionally and socially deaf and dumb. Even theologically sociopathic.
Alexithymia--etymologically "without words for emotions"--is a symptom characteristic of individuals who have difficulty understanding their own and others' emotions. You can think of alexithymia as being the opposite of what is called emotional intelligence.
Orthodox alexithymia is produced when the intellectual facets of Christian theology, in the pursuit of correct and right belief, become decoupled from emotion, empathy, and fellow-feeling. Orthodox alexithymics are like patients with ventromedial prefrontal cortex brain damage. Their reasoning may be sophisticated and internally consistent but it is disconnected from human emotion. And without Christ-shaped caring to guide the chain of calculation we wind up with the theological equivalent of preferring to scratch a doctrinal finger over preventing destruction of the whole world. Logically and doctrinally such preferences can be justified. They are not "contrary to reason." But they are inhuman and monstrous. Emotion, not reason, is what has gone missing. Read the entire post.

I encountered this recently after I spoke to a group of youth about doubt. In the presentation, I mentioned that upon reading the story of Joshua and the Battle of Jericho for myself, I realized it was a story about genocide, with God commanding Joshua to kill every man, woman, and child in the city for the sole purpose of acquiring land. I explained that this seemed contrary to what Jesus taught about loving our enemies.

Afterwards, a youth leader informed me that when it came to Joshua and Jericho, I had nothing to worry about…and had no business getting his students worried either.

“I don’t know why you had to bring up the Jericho thing,” he said.

“Doesn’t that story bother you?” I asked. “Don’t you find the slaughter of men, women, and children horrific?”

“Not if it’s in the Bible.”

“Genocide doesn’t bother you if it’s in the Bible?”

“Nope.”

He crossed his arms and a self-satisfied smile spread across his face. He was proud of his detachment, I realized. He seemed to think it represented some kind of spiritual strength.

“But genocide always bothers me,” I finally said, “especially when it’s in the Bible. And I get the idea that maybe it’s supposed to. I get the idea that maybe God created me to be bothered by evil like that, even when it’s said to have been orchestrated by God.”

I’m not sure he and I will ever understand one another, but I’ve decided to quit apologizing for my questions.  It’s not enough for me to maintain my intellectual integrity as a Christian; I also want to maintain my emotional integrity as a Christian. And I don’t need answers to all of my questions to do that. I need only the courage to be honest about my questions and doubts, and the patience to keep exploring and trusting in spite of them.

The bravest decision I’ll ever make is the decision to follow Jesus with both my head and heart engaged—no checking out, no pretending.

It’s a decision I make every day, and it’s a decision that’s made my faith journey a heck of a lot more hazardous and a heck of a lot more fun.  It means that grinning monster, doubt, is likely to stick around for a while, for I know now that closing my eyes won’t make him go away. It means each day is a risk, a gamble, an adventure in vulnerability and trust, as I figure out what it means to follow Jesus as me, Rachel Grace—the girl who cried for Zarmina, the girl who inherited her mama’s bleeding heart and her daddy’s stubborn grace, the girl who digs in her heels, the girl who makes mistakes, the girl who is intent on breaking up patriarchy, the girl who thought to raise her hand in Sunday school at age five and ask why God would drown innocent animals in Noah’s flood, the girl who could be wrong.

It means I’ve got a long race ahead of me, but I’m going to run it with abandon. I’m going to run it as me. Because I think that’s what God wants—all of me, surrendered and transformed, head and heart engaged. 

I’m growing more confident in my stride, and I am running faster now, breathless, kicking up dust, tripping over roots and skinning my knees, cursing now and then, but always getting up and gaining ground on that bend in the path where I think I can see Jesus up ahead.  

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Rush Limbaugh and three evangelical blind spots

'Mic' photo (c) 2009, Renée Johnson - license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

“What does it say about the college co-ed Susan Fluke [sic], who goes before a congressional committee and says that she must be paid to have sex. What does that make her? It makes her a slut, right? It makes her a prostitute...So, if we’re gonna sit here, and if we’re gonna have a part in this, then we want something in return, Ms. Fluke: And that would be the videos of all this sex posted online so we can see what we are getting for our money.”
– Rush Limbaugh 

To me, this is whole situation is a no-brainer:  What Rush Limbaugh said was wrong.  No woman, under any circumstances should be spoken of in those terms.  Limbaugh’s ugly rant against law student and activist Sandra Fluke was misogynistic, vitriolic, and far beyond any definition of civil discourse. It should be categorically condemned, and sponsors are right to pull their advertisements in response. Yes, two liberal commentators have used similar language in the past, but as David Frum wisely points out, the indecencies of others in the past do not excuse those of Limbaugh in the present, nor should they prevent us from speaking out about the situation at hand.

It’s hard to believe that any Christian would support a man who leveled such a crass and hateful rant against someone created in the image of God, but over the weekend, I encountered several who did just that...and passionately. Most were part of my own evangelical community.   This baffled and frustrated me, as it did many of you who, via Facebook and Twitter, told me that you’ve encountered similar reactions among your family and friends. 

How can anyone who identifies as a follower of Jesus not only listen to, but support, this kind of disgusting language?  How can good people—the kind who show up at my door with a casserole the minute they find out I’m sick—openly cheer these kinds of remarks? 

 I can’t know for sure what goes on in people’s minds when they align themselves with the likes of Rush Limbaugh, but I suspect this reaction has something to do with three common blind spots among evangelicals: 

1. Politics 

As many have noted elsewhere, evangelicalism has become so intertwined with conservative politics that it can be hard to tell at times where Republicanism begins and evangelicalism ends.

No longer defined by its original ethos—spreading the gospel of Jesus Christ—evangelicalism has been reduced to little more than a voting block, and I get the idea from many of my evangelical friends that so long as a person shares their political convictions, it matters not how they live their life or speak about other people; a person is on the Christian “team” as long as he votes for conservative candidates come election day. 

We saw a clear example of this back in 2010 when Liberty University invited Glen Beck to speak at its commencement. It didn’t matter that the majority of Liberty students and faculty would consider Beck’s Mormonism to be outside the bounds of Christian orthodoxy or that Beck had a reputation for sowing discord, what mattered was that he shared their conservative voting habits.  As I wrote in my post on the topic, “Graduation 2010 confirms once and for all what many of us have suspected for years.  Liberty University is characterized not by Christian fundamentalism but by political fundamentalism. For Republicanism is clearly the university's highest and most sacred value.”  

This also explains why Franklin Graham has such a hard time accepting Barack Obama’s Christian faith and yet readily accepts the faith of Newt Gingrich or Rick Santorum. Like many evangelicals, he measures the faith of other people based on how they vote, not what they profess or how they live. 

This is the blind spot that allows some of the same Christians who refuse to watch R-rated movies to suspend their judgment as Rush Limbaugh makes crass, vulgar, racist, misogynistic, and homophobic remarks on his radio show.  So long as he’s speaking the truth about politics, they seem to reason, it doesn’t matter how he delivers it.  So long as he is right, it doesn’t matter whether he is decent or kind. 

This blind spot is absolutely killing our Christian witness. A 2007 Barna Group study found that among 16-29 year-olds only 3 percent express favorable views of evangelicals. Common negative perceptions among non-Christians are that present-day Christianity is judgmental (87 percent), hypocritical (85 percent), old-fashioned (78 percent), and too involved in politics (75 percent).

Now there is nothing wrong with supporting conservative politics. But, as I told a woman who was urging her fellow Christians to boycott sponsors who pulled their ads from Limbaugh’s show, when you publicly support a man who uses crass language to shame a woman, you are making it hard for non-believers to see anything lovely or redemptive about Christianity. 

2. Women 

A second blind spot that I suspect is influencing evangelical support of Rush Limbaugh relates to women. 

I’d like to think that if Limbaugh had used a racial epithet, like the n-word, my evangelical friends would be more reluctant to support him, despite Blind Spot #1. But because Limbaugh used misogynisticepithets instead, there seems to be more hesitancy among some evangelicals to condemn him. 

This is because evangelicals, for all our good work in fighting sex trafficking and the exploitation of women around the world, often fail to see the sexism that pervades our own church corridors. 

This example is not nearly as severe, but it drove me crazy to see John Piper follow his public call for a “masculine Christianity” with a week’s worth of posts about overcoming racism. Yes, evangelicals have come a long way when it comes to race, but can’t he see that we’re still decades behind when it comes to women!?  Had Piper said that “Christianity has a white feel,” every evangelical in his or her right mind would have been up in arms. But because he said that “Christianity has a masculine feel,” even those who disagree with him shrugged it off as a difference in biblical interpretation rather than a problem with how he, and many evangelicals, view women. 

I never before considered myself the kind of woman who sees sexism around every corner, but I must say, my experience speaking and writing about women in the Church has been eye-opening. For expressing my egalitarian views among evangelicals, I’ve been called crass, ugly names (not unlike the names Limbaugh called Fluke), dismissed as “emotional” and “whiny,” written off as a “just another liberal feminazi,” and declared a “threat” to the Church. I’ve written on controversial topics before, but never has the criticism been so personal and so vitriolic, and I can’t help but wonder if it is because I’m writing about the concerns of women. 

 This is not to say that every evangelical is deeply misogynistic. Far from it. But I think that the lack of female leadership and influence in evangelicalism has resulted in a blind spot that keeps some from recognizing just how painful and damaging these kinds of words and attitudes can be. Fortunately, I see this changing in a big way, and am hopeful that the future will be brighter for evangelical women. 

3. Sex

The most common response I heard from evangelicals supporting Rush Limbaugh was that because Sandra Fluke was sexually active, she essentially “had it coming.” Maybe Limbaugh’s language was a bit strong, they said, but his disgust at her “promiscuity” was justified. 

This attitude represents one of the most damaging and least-talked-about blind spots within evangelicalism—the one that refuses to acknowledge the fact that being sexually active does not make a woman a slut. 

Currently, evangelicals tend to force young adults, especially young women, into simplistic sexual categories. They are either “pure” or “impure,” “whole” or “damaged,” “virgins” or “sluts.” There does not seem to exist a vocabulary within evangelicalism with which to talk about men and women who are sexually active, but not promiscuous. 

But like it or not, nearly every study you find shows that unmarried Christians are just as sexually active as unmarried non-Christians. With the majority of young adults waiting until their late twenties to get married, it’s getting harder and harder to wait until marriage for sexual intimacy.

Now, I’m not saying that this is okay, or that evangelicals have to abandon their convictions regarding sex and marriage just because times have changed. But if evangelicals feel that the word “slut” is the only appropriate one to use for a woman who is sexually active, then we have a real problem on our hands. This is damaging, hurtful language that objectifies women and will only push them away from the Church. (Note: It should be noted that Fluke wasn’t just addressing the use of contraceptives for sex, but also for treatment of medical conditions. She shared the story of one friend who lost an ovary because she could not afford birth control pills.

Regardless of your views on whether insurance companies should be required to provide coverage for contraception, all Christians should agree that there is no place for Rush Limbaugh-style vitriol in public discourse.

My hope is that the blind spots that keep many of my evangelical brothers and sisters from seeing his words and actions as contrary to the way of Jesus will be brought to light through the process of discernment, and that I too will be open to the wise critiques of those who perhaps have a better view of the blind spots that keep me from loving God with all my heart, soul, mind and strength and loving my neighbor as myself. 

***

UPDATE #1: I've been encouraged to see some evangelical leaders like Al Mohler speak out against Rush Limbaugh's comments: http://www.dennyburk.com/albert-mohler-weighs-in-on-limbaugh-apology/

UPDATE #2: I'm going to go ahead and close the comment thread on this post because a few folks seem rather eager to prove my point there, and I'm tired of reading and deleting this stuff. (In just one day, through comments and email, I've personally been called a "slut", a "whore," a "feminazi," a "whiny feminist," a c**t, and a "dirty tramp." I expect a call from the president shortly.)  Of course, most of you have been wonderful, as always. Thanks so much for your insightful contributions to the conversation and for your support. I expect the trolls will clear out soon.

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Evangelicalism, neo-fundamentalism, and the next generation

Three articles caught my eye today: 

The first comes from Frank Viola, who argues that there are now four major streams within evangelicalism, particularly among Christians in their 20s, 30s, and 40s: 

1. The Systematizers
2. The Activists
3. The Emoters
4. The Beyond Evangelicals 

Based on this previous post, I suspect I fall into that fourth stream, mainly because I’m tired of fighting over labels.

The second is an excellent essay from Mike Clawson, shared by Roger Olson, about neo-fundamentalism. 

“The driving force behind neo-fundamentalism,” writes Clawson, “as with historic fundamentalism, is a 'remnant mentality.' Neo-fundamentalists believe they alone are remaining true to the fullness of the gospel and orthodox faith while the rest of the evangelical church is in grave, near-apocalyptic danger of theological drift, moral laxity, and compromise with a postmodern culture – a culture which they see as being characterized by a skepticism towards Enlightenment conceptions of 'absolute truth,' a pluralistic blending of diverse beliefs, values, and cultures, and a suspicion of hierarchies and traditional sources of authority. Because of this hostility toward postmodern ways of thinking, neo-fundamentalists have little tolerance for diversity of opinions among evangelicals on any issues they perceive as essential doctrines – which are most of them – as opposed to the broader evangelical movement which historically has allowed for a much wider range of disagreement on disputable matters.  Neo-fundamentalists thus respond to the challenges of a postmodern culture by narrowing the boundaries of what they consider genuinely evangelical and orthodox Christianity, and rejecting those who maintain a more open stance.” 

Clawson identifies three major figures in the neo-fundamentalist movement: John Piper, Al Mohler, and Mark Driscoll. 

The third comes from David Fitch, who writes about Mark Driscoll and “what the latest flap teaches us about the neo-Reformed Movement.” 

He identifies three major emphases among the neo-Reformed:

1.) The Focus on the Substitionary Atonement
2.) The View that Authority is Hierarchical. 
3.) The assumption that “success” is best measured by the number of people who show up to hear a male preacher preach. 

Then he explains why these sort of teachings fall flat in a the post-Christendom culture of Britain:  “In the post-Christendom world, authority is flattened in the church and pushed outward,” he writes. “Positional authority of anyone over someone else is not the way things work in the Kingdom (read Mark 10:42). Instead we work alongside each other out of our giftedness in the communities appreciating one another gifts and mutually submitting one to another in each one’s gifts (read Eph 4, Rom 12:3-8). The authority lies in one’s recognized gift. The idea that women are over men is as unthinkable as the idea that men are over women.”“Flattened authority structures push leadership out amidst the organic work of ministry in context. Hierarchy pushes church ministry inward and upward for approval. Hierarchical authority inhibits dispersed missional engagement.”

What do you think? Do you agree with Viola’s assessment? Clawson’s? Fitch’s?

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Some great posts about gender, hierarchy, equality, and marriage

I probably don’t say this enough, but I am extremely hopeful about the future of women in the Church. Sure, there are some extra-loud voices calling for women to conform themselves to narrowly defined roles that have more to do with an idealized conception of pre-feminist America than with actual “biblical womanhood,” but I believe these cries represent the last desperate throes of a dying movement. I sincerely believe that, if I have daughters, they will be welcomed as equals in most evangelical churches, and that egalitarian marriages like my own—in which my husband and I work together as a team of equal partners—will become the norm within Christiandom. 

Several posts this week encouraged me:

Dan Brennan with “Friendship, Marriage, and Ongoing Sexism” 
“But for Mark and Grace, their model of marital friendship is not a voluntary equal-footing friendship. It only allows the woman to go so far in their friendship, community, and their culture before she must surrender her gifts, her body, her decision-making process to the embedded sexism in the marriage and surrounding community.  Yes, there is mutuality on the surface, but underneath the shallow mutuality is sexism by default.  Is this what is meant by  “neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus”?

Roger Olson with “Truth, Authority and Roles” 
“This is why I am adamantly opposed to so-called ‘complementarianism.’ No matter how much they say that the husband should love his wife as Christ loves the church, they (the leading complementarian preachers and scholars) are handing husbands the right to ignore truth when it is his wife who has it and he doesn’t—that is, when his wife is right and he is wrong. I am waiting to read or hear a complementarian say to Christian husbands: “When your wife is right, she is right and you must obey the truth...I’m afraid that complementarians love authority and roles more than truth.”

Morgan Guyton at Red Letter Christians with “Why Gender Hierarchy Makes No Biblical Sense to Me
“Servant leaders who emulate Jesus can never impose their will on others by force. Jesus’ power is derived in His complete submission to those who disagreed with Him to the point of letting them crucify Him when He had all the resources of the Creator of the universe at His disposal. If Jesus is my model for how to love my wife like He loved the church, then I can’t see a reason why there would be any gender hierarchy in my household.”

Rachel Stone at Her.Meneutics with “How We Can Harness the New Domesticity Without Diminishing Women"
”This domesticity will look different in every family. My husband’s mom made her own everything, even mayonnaise; to my mom, home-made cake meant Duncan Hines as opposed to buying ready-made cakes at the bakery. My dad did (and still does) all of the laundry and cooked a fair share of the meals, too; my mom was (and is) more likely to keep on top of car maintenance and to do most of the driving on long trips, whereas in my husband’s family driving was clearly the province of the man. But my husband and I both grew up in homes where we were welcomed, sheltered, nourished, loved and where we experienced the outflowing of that love toward strangers and near-strangers in the form of Christian hospitality." 

JR. Forasteros’ review of 'Real Marriage’ for Relevant 
“The model of marriage, family and maturity the Driscolls build is more a reinvigorated idealization of the nuclear family than something that arises from the Scriptures. And that would be fine, except the Driscolls present this model as every person's created intention. It's not presented as an opinion, but a divine command. The Driscolls assume full personhood is found in marriage and child-rearing. There's no picture of biblical singlehood and little discussion of how married and single persons integrate into one larger whole in the Church.”

And I know I’ve already shared this one...like, twice already... but Sarah Bessey’s “In Which Love Looks Like Real Marriage” is one of the most beautiful depictions of egalitarian marriage I’ve ever encountered: 
“Well, who is in charge here?
We are.
Yes, but if push comes to shove, who is the leader? 
We are.
But then who is the spiritual head of your home?
Only Jesus.
It's a slow-dance still, isn't it, my luv? You lead and I lead, we are both following His music, no hierarchy here. We move together, one body, all for intimacy and beauty, the dance of lovers that know every curve and lean into the unknown parts with full trust in the hands they hold."

You may also find this interesting: 
Amanda MacInnis with "Being a Smart Consumer of the Academic Literature: Gender Differences and the Comp/Egal Debate"

What about you? Do you get the sense, as I do, that the evangelical tide is turning in favor of egalitarianism? What have you found that encourages you?

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