Momentum continues to build for the Synergy Women's Network. Last year, contributions from WhitbyForum subscriber covered all of the Synergy2008 scholarships. So before 2008 winds down, I want to give you another opportunity to become part of what we are doing.
Below is the full text of the letter we're sending to our Synergy newletter subscribers, which I also wanted to share with you. If you're a Synergy newsletter subscriber, then consider yourself doubly-invited to join us in supporting this signficant effort!
It Takes a Network!
Every once in a while God starts something new.
Five years ago that happened in Orlando. It all started with a few isolated conversations. Women in growing numbers were enrolling in theological seminaries and entering into fulltime Christian ministry. Opportunities for women were limited, yet ironically, doors were opening up as never before.
Little did we know what God was about to do.
Five years and four conferences later, Synergy is a thriving international network, fueling the kingdom efforts of women in vocational ministry throughout the world. Our conferences provide unique opportunities for women to connect, exchange ideas, go deeper spiritually, and collaborate on strategic issues and opportunities of today and in the future.
One young woman who flew in from China for Synergy2008 wrote this on her return flight home:
I cannot put into words what a tremendous encouragement the entire weekend was for me. From one amazing conversation to fabulous workshop to great speaker after another, I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of God’s kindnesses and encouragements to me throughout the weekend! The whole conference felt deeply rooted in both heart connections and strong biblical/theological foundations to fuel such a fire. I left feeling empowered and energized to pursue the gifts God has given me!
Synergy Women’s Network (SWN) continues to strengthen and expand. We have formed a strategic alliance with Gifted for Leadership, an online publishing arm of Christianity Today and Leadership Journal. I am writing a regular Synergy column—“Think”—for FullFill Magazine, an innovative MOPS publication for women in ministry leadership. A wide range of leading seminaries, denominations, and parachurch organizations are represented at our conferences.
We’re convinced God has more in store for us.
Today, SWN has reached a major milestone in our development where we must transition from a volunteer based organization to employ leaders who can take Synergy to the next level. The expanding levels of our activities and the amazing opportunities that are opening up necessitate this transition. Specifically, we are looking to hire an executive administrator, a webmaster, and a director of communications.
Will you join us?
We know you are already supporting other ministries and we do not wish to take away from these other commitments. We are also aware that everyone is feeling the financial stresses of the current economic crisis. Yet, despite all of this, we are confident that God’s hand is on this new work and trust Him to raise up friends to join us in funding this exciting effort. We hope you will be among them.
If your heart is with us, if you share our vision, if you want to become part of this ground breaking movement, will you consider Synergy as you plan your year-end giving? And will you also consider becoming a regular Synergy supporter in the New Year?
Looking to the future,
Carolyn Custis James President, SWN Donate Online or send your tax deductible donation to:
Synergy Women's Network, Inc. P. O. Box 782128 Orlando, FL 32878-2128
Saturday a scene played out in Platteville, Colorado that looked like a page straight out of the Old Testament book of Ruth. I heard it on the morning news. Boaz-like levels of generosity echo through this story.
Chris and Joe Miller, a farm couple who had finished their vegetable harvest, decided to open their fields so members of the surrounding area could come and harvest what was left.
That sounds like gleaning to me.
The Millers expected around 5 to 10,000 gleaners. Turns out their estimate was wide of the mark. On Sunday 40,000 people showed up to harvest about 600,000 pounds of potatoes, carrots, and leeks.
One women who was heading home with a load of vegetables remarked, "Everybody is so depressed about the economy. This was a pure party. Everybody having a great time getting something for free."
What a great thanksgiving story! One can only hope the economic downturn will inspire more surprising acts of compassion and grace like this from all of us.
We're coming up to the two year anniversary of the death of Frank's brother Kelly James on Mount Hood in December 2006. Those of you who have lost a loved one will understand when I say that even two years later the journey of grief is still new to us. Kelly left a big hole in our lives, and that is especially true for Frank. This has been a time of deep spiritual reflection and honest wrestlings with God. You can read more about that on the Three Mt. Hood Climbers blog.
Karen James just released her book, Holding Fast: The Untold Story of the Mount Hood Tragedy, in which she recounts those harrowing days of crisis on Mount Hood in which her husband Kelly and his two climbing partners, Brian Hall and Nikko Cook, lost their lives.
In the book, she tells the story of her relationship with Kelly, their shared faith in God, and her personal journey with grief. She also employs her expertise as an investigative reporter in her search for answers of what went wrong. Her conclusions are endorsed by search and rescue experts who were involved in the efforts to find the missing climbers.
Saturday, November 15, on the Today Show, Lester Holt interviewed Karen about her book. To watch the interview, go here.
In the aftermath of the 2008 U.S. presidential election, the word “change” is still on everyone’s lips. Change was the central theme of both campaigns and the exclamation point in President-Elect Obama’s victory speech: Change has come to America!
What strikes me as strange about our American enthusiasm for change (and count me in as someone who wants to see change!) is that at the moment we are knee deep in changes we didn’t vote in, yet are powerless to stop. The current global financial crisis has us watching daily stock exchange reports like soap opera fanatics. Everyone is on edge. The unpredictable shifts and surges of global politics and power are introducing changes that are frightening and changes that create exciting new opportunities.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about change, not so much because of the election, but because of a large box UPS deposited on my porch last Spring. Inside was a 1500 page manuscript (over 10 inches thick!)—a commentary on the Gospel of Matthew that I had agreed to review. The timing was terrible. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. What happened afterwards has been eye-opening for me.
Before that box arrived, I never paid much attention to Matthew. He’s one of the forgotten apostles who gets eclipsed by the more prominent figures—Peter, James and John. Yet, as I started thinking more about Matthew’s story and how it smolders beneath the surface of his writing, his Gospel started to come alive for me, so much so that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.
Take for example what Matthew is teaching me about change.
Anyone who knows Matthew’s story knows he desperately needed change. Caught up in one of the most notorious, unethical, and lucrative professions in Israel, Matthew was a charter member of the club of individuals about whom it is fair to say, “Greed got the best of them.” I have a hunch that if Matthew were alive today (at least the pre-disciple version of him) he’d be right in the middle of the current financial crisis as part of the problem.
His job was to collect taxes for the occupying Roman government from his fellow Jewish citizens. That was bad enough. But as the deal went, he could pocket whatever extra he could squeeze out of hapless tax payers, which is exactly what he did.
Like today’s golden-parachute CEO’s, Matthew’s financial prosperity came at a steep personal price. First century Israelite tax collectors were among the most despised members of Jewish society. Instead of gaining stature from his impressive portfolio, Matthew was shunned and mistreated in a hundred different ways. Pharisees spoke of tax collectors with utter disgust. No doubt Jesus’ other disciples found it hard to stomach the admission of a tax collector to their inner circle.
Matthew is one of several biblical characters (like Rahab the Harlot and Simon the leper) who never seemed able to shake his past. Although other biblical writers graciously drop the derogatory descriptor, in his own Gospel he stubbornly lists himself among the other disciples as “Matthew the tax collector.” Evidently it was important to Matthew that we remember where he was when Jesus found and rescued him.
But Jesus isn’t simply in the business of saving souls. He’s in the business of bringing change. There’s a kingdom to restore, and Jesus’ agenda for change begins with people. Matthew is “Exhibit A.” Jesus called Matthew to “Follow me!” (Matthew 9:9). A call for change is embedded in Jesus words. Change was also implicit when Jesus called others to, “Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is near” (Matthew 4:17).
I never put those two imperatives together until recently. When I did I began to wonder if I had stumbled upon clues to Jesus’ strategy for change—golden safeguards, if you will, designed to keep believers moving steadily along the path of Kingdom change that Jesus means for us to travel.
The Greek word for “repent” means “to change your mind.” It’s not enough to quit a corrupt tax collection business and find a more suitable line of work, although that was surely a start for Matthew. Nor is repentance confined to occasional moments of remorse over lapses along the way, although that is important too. These narrow definitions of repentance can leave us thinking we’re doing just fine—that repentance is for others. Which is exactly what the Pharisees thought. The true definition runs much deeper, exposing the most godly, mature believer to profound reasons to repent.
Repentance addresses the fact that at a systemic level we are all out of alignment with our Creator and with our noble calling to be His image bearers. God Himself pointed out the utter seriousness of our problem when He said,
“My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Isaiah 55:8-9).
According to God, that's a pretty wide gap, and we all suffer from it. Jesus' call to repent summons us to work at change, at shedding layer by layer our kingdom-of-this-world thoughts and ways, at making intentional strides towards becoming who God created us to be. Admitting and reminding ourselves that we are out of alignment with God is the place for us to start.
Make a U-turn. “Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is near!”
“Follow Me!” completes the thought by identifying where we need to go and who is here to help us. Matthew’s Gospel is unambiguous when it comes to defining the changes Jesus has in mind. Matthew pursues change for himself by spending time with Jesus. Studying His ways. Weighing His words. Comparing himself to Jesus. Repenting the disparity and imitating what he observes in Jesus. And all the while, Matthew himself is gradually changing—embracing a Kingdom perspective on money, a Kingdom attitude towards society’s outcasts, and a Kingdom selflessness that contrasts sharply with the grasping life he left behind.
Read Matthew’s Gospel and see what a recovering tax collector wants us to know about change!
There's a rickety old shack in the Oscar winning movie, Forest Gump, where Forest's best friend Jenny grew up. Jenny's shack is also the place that hides her darkest, most painful memories—early years of sexual abuse.
After they reach adulthood, Forest and Jenny revisit the shack. It is a powerfully wrenching scene when Jenny, enraged by the memories she cannot shake, hurls fistfuls of rocks at the hated shack. Later, Forest finishes the job by flattening it with a bulldozer. But the ill-effects of childhood suffering are able to withstand Forest's demolitions efforts.
Paul Young’s runaway bestselling novel, The Shack, takes up a similar theme.
The shack in Young’s tale is the site where Missy, the beloved young daughter of the main character Mack, is brutally murdered by a sexual predator. The impact of her brutal death on Mack is, as you can imagine, utterly devastating. Like Forest’s friend Jenny, Mack lives a tormented life because of what happened to his little girl in the shack. The shack casts a dark and terrible shadow over his life that he can’t escape.
The shack—that dilapidated vacant old eyesore—comes to represent unspeakable loss and an open wound in Mack’s soul. Just like Jenny, Mack returns to the place most abhorrent to him, drawn by a note in his mailbox signed “Papa”—the name his wife Nan uses most often for God. But unlike Jenny’s story, Mack’s story doesn’t include a bulldozer scene. Instead of trying to destroy the shack, Mack enters it alone. He is angry, skeptical, fearful, and filled with revulsion.
Yet it is in returning to the place that pains him most that Mack has a life-altering, redemptive encounter with God.
Young's novel has attracted an enormous readership which, in itself, would be reason enough to discuss his book here. He has also drawn fierce criticism from Christians for his portrayal of the Trinity and for his theological views which he is audacious enough to put into the mouth of God.
From my vantage point, it seems counterproductive to debate, when Young is serving up to us on a platter an amazing opportunity for deep conversations and real ministry with so many people. We may not like every detail of the book or agree with every theological statement it contains. (And in all fairness, Young’s critics should also inspect C.S. Lewis and Tolkien, not to mention their own views, under the same theological microscope.) But Young is doing here what most people do every day. He’s asking the tough theological questions that hound every wounded soul. (If you’re not in that demographic, sooner or later you will be, so this is for you too.)
Why do bad things happen—not just in the abstract, but to me? Does God really care about me? Why is my life such a mess, if God is truly good?
And here’s one to ponder: How do we present God as Father to this father-starved generation and call them to draw near to Him, when the mention of “father” conjures up images that are uncaring, distant, and (in more cases than we’d like to admit) abusive? Young tackles that question head on by starting in the kitchen with “Papa” represented as a warm, embracing African-American woman and leading Mack from there to know “Papa” as Father who will shepherd him gently through the hardest stretches of his journey.
I suspect one explanation for the skyrocketing sales of this book is that there are a lot of hurting people in this world who long for an honest discussion of the big questions they are already asking. Young is giving them that discussion.
I read and discussed The Shack with six highly respected, theologically minded people. All seven of us are seminary graduates with years of experience in theology, biblical studies, and pastoral concerns. You may be surprised to learn that our discussion touched only briefly on the theological controversy and then went in another direction. Yes, we are all seminary graduates capable of wading into the controversy. But we have another thing in common which changed our reading of Young’s book.
We all have shacks.
If you’re hurting—if there’s a painful, immovable fixture on the landscape of your life—this book will touch you in your deepest place. It did that for all of us. Frank and I felt a deep connection between Mack's struggles and the shack we are dealing with in the aftermath of his brother Kelly's death in the snow cave on Mount Hood.
The Shack is about revisiting the hard places—the shacks—of our lives and wrestling honestly with God there (instead of avoiding, ignoring, or trying to bulldoze it). Somehow God meets us in our shacks. This is the consistent story of God’s people all through the Bible: Job, Abraham and Sarah, Naomi, Hannah, David, and Jeremiah, to name a few.
The Shack is about being reassured of God’s relentless love for you in the presence of your greatest reason to doubt Him. How ironic for Mack to come to grips with God’s love at the murder scene of his daughter where God’s love seemed so wholly absent. I’ve always said, I’d rather hear about God’s love from someone who believed they had lost it, than from someone whose rosy life never forced them to doubt.
The Shack is about the importance of the hard places in our lives. In our victorious, prosperity-obsessed, air-brushed Christianity, we completely miss this. There’s a lot of truth to the charge coming from people who are leaving the church that we are not honest about the shape of our lives and the state of our faith. In the church, shacks are secrets unless something unforseen blows your cover. Shacks are shameful. And the doubts they produce are signs of spiritual failure, not the path to growth.
I don’t necessarily advocate full public disclosure of our deeply private struggles, but there surely is a place for us to acknowledge to one another that we all have spiritual struggles, we wrestle with doubts about God, and we all have our shacks.
Biblical sufferers offer us that kind of honesty, and we should be grateful that Paul Young has been that honest too.
Have you read The Shack? What was your response?
Note: If you’re interested in reading a thoughtful review, here’s a more extensive analysis by Professor John Stackhouse, who personally interacted with the author at Regent College, Vancouver, BC:
The selection of Alaska’s Governor Sarah Palin to the GOP presidential ticket has put a working mom in the headlines. This mother of five has not only galvanized her party’s ticket, she’s created a stir that isn’t exactly what you might expect.
Democrats are suddenly questioning how a working mom can take on the vice presidency and still do justice to her family. Republicans insist it’s no big deal and are applauding her choice to run. Politicians are often accused of flip-flopping, but this is a doozy!
Working moms and stay-at-home moms who are familiar with this discussion can’t help feeling a bit disoriented by the surprising reversal of opinions. I must admit it has taken me aback. Costly sacrifices made by both groups of moms, nights of complete exhaustion, endless multi-tasking, a firm resolve to steward our gifts and callings, unswerving commitment to family, and a determination to tackle head-on the demands of the unique personal circumstances God places before us—suddenly seem thrown into a chasm of confusion.
Whatever else you might say about Sarah Barracuda, the hockey mom from Alaska, she has turned family values upside down. Liberals are taking up the cause of stay-at-home moms. Conservatives are advocating for working mothers. What is the world coming to? Whichever side of the divide you’re on, you’ve been betrayed by those you thought were cheering for you.
My own life as a mom has never fit neatly into either category. At times I’ve been fulltime in the corporate world. At others I’ve blended work and home, career and family. I’ve even taken a turn as a home schooling mom. In every stage of my life, there have been solid reasons for my choices. But, like a lot of other women, every choice has been accompanied by that nagging sense (reinforced by raised eyebrows and comments I’ve heard along the way) that I’m “not doing things right.”
As a mom who worked to support my husband’s academic career, I recall looking wistfully out the window of our third floor Oxford flat at moms who were getting together with their little ones. I felt torn between my longings to be part of that group and the project deadline facing me that would put food on the table. But there were also wonderful reminders of the importance of what I was doing. Once, during a business meeting, I reached into my briefcase and pulled out a miniature Elmo that my preschool daughter had tucked inside to keep me company.
Governor Palin—standing at the podium with her husband in the bleachers cradling their infant son in his arms—has unintentionally reshuffled the deck and forced on us questions about God’s calling on women’s lives in a rather public way. Only this time we aren’t asking on behalf of women, like my mother, whose days of active mothering are over. Nor are we asking for single and childless women who have yet to be admitted to the mom’s club (although we need to ask questions for them too). This time we’re asking for a mom who has major challenges at home and yet is answering a call to be doing something above and beyond traditional roles.
I keep coming back to the ezer-warrior, who leads us beyond this political flip-flopping. (If the ezer-warrior concept is new to you, go here.) In embracing the ezer as my identity as a woman, I find the courage and the freedom I need to embrace the particular life God is giving me—whatever that might be.
So far, the first ezer is the only woman to be born (so to speak) into a perfect world. The rest of us have had to cope with unexpected changes, catastrophic tragedies, fluctuating economies, disappointments, opportunities, and a lot of messiness. Walking into life armed with a tightly scripted formula for how a woman ought to live her life doesn’t equip us for the contingencies we encounter. In fact, it often ties our hands behind our backs just when we need to step up and fight a battle we never expected to face.
We need a compass that enables us to embrace God’s purposes for our lives today—no matter what particular complexities we face. By embracing our calling as ezer-warriors, we can cheer each other on, instead of splitting into hopelessly divided camps.
The 2008 Beijing Olympics are over. Athletes have returned home. Those with medals are making public appearances and raking in endorsements.
We have moved on too and are focusing again on the presidential election and political conventions. At the same time, we have come away with a whole new set of Olympic memories we will add to those we’ve accumulated over the years.
For me, some of the strongest images are not from athletic feats, but from the opening ceremony—a lavish, jaw-dropping celebration of the 2008 One World One Dream Olympic theme which I can’t quit thinking about.
The entire program created powerful images of unity and solidarity, beginning with the thunderous performance of 2008 near-perfectly choreographed Chinese drummers. Watching them felt a bit like getting stuck in a room full of mirrors. A reporter for the Chicago tribune wrote, “The emphasis was not on individuals, but on masses of performers, meticulously trained and coordinated.” Talk about oneness!
Oneness is, or surely ought to be, a major topic of concern among Christians. It was high on Jesus’ list of priorities. He prayed fervently that we would be one. The apostles followed with astonishing talk of us being one body. We’ve been struggling with the notion ever since.
According to Jesus, far more is at stake in our oneness than peace and tranquility among believers. Our oneness is supposed to send a message to the world that Jesus truly came from the Father and that the Father loves us as he loves Jesus (John 17:20-23). Our oneness authenticates the divine nature of Jesus mission because the oneness He produces among His followers thrives in a sea of differences and defies the laws of human relational gravity.
Jesus seems to have something far more challenging in mind than what was happening in Beijing. If His start-up band of followers is any indication, Jesus chooses people that make His task infinitely more difficult and the outcome far more impressive than what is achieved by synchronizing 2008 young Chinese men of the same height, weight, build, haircut, and attire.
Jesus chose four Jewish fishermen then added the hated Matthew, who was ingratiating himself to the Romans and enriching himself by overtaxing his Jewish neighbors including, some believe, the fishing industry. With only the first five disciples in place tensions already thrive among Jesus’ followers. Tensions escalate with the inclusion of Simon the Zealot, a political loyalist with zero tolerance for a Jewish defector like Matthew.
Jesus wasn’t finished. Luke tells us He included women, which made no sense to His male disciples who, at one point, were dumbfounded to find Him even talking with a woman (John 4:27). Little did they realize He wasn't just talking with her, He was recruiting her for His cause. Then Jesus calls Paul whose assignment is to break the news that Gentiles are part of Jesus’ plan. Instead of making oneness easier, Jesus is making it harder.
What binds Jesus’ followers together is not our sameness, but our firm allegiance to Him and to His cause in the world. We will never dot our theological I’s, cross our political T’s, or beat our worship drums exactly the same way so long as we live in a fallen world. Deep differences will always exist among us. But our differences are what give our oneness the unique power to communicate to the world that Jesus has come and is making a difference in our lives—bringing hopelessly diverse individuals together into one united Body.
“See how they love one another” will leave lasting images in the world’s mind when we love one another, not in sameness, but in the midst of our differences.
Five years ago that happened in Orlando. It all started with a few isolated conversations. Women in growing numbers were enrolling in theological seminaries and entering into fulltime Christian ministry. Opportunities for women were limited, yet ironically, doors were opening up as never before.
The 2008 Beijing Olympics are over. Athletes have returned home. Those with medals are making public appearances and raking in endorsements.
