On The Biblical Case for Spanking Our Kids (or, uh, Maybe Not)

Since I have written a book on someone else’s blog, I thought I should probably move it over here to mine.  For some reason, this woman’s posts really grabbed me.  Those of you who’ve known me for some years will recognize her posts, because they sound almost word-for-word like the ones I used to write.  You can read her post on Thoughts from the Word on Discipline here (mainly about spanking) and her post that I responded to is right here, titled, “Spanking: God’s Way.”  Here are some of my thoughts in response [though the second comment quoted below is under moderation, so I'm not sure if it will be allowed on the blog or not yet], complete with the usual lack-of-editing errors:

I’m someone who once wrote, practically word-for-word, your same thoughts on discipline. After really turning the Scriptures upside down, I have re-framed everything.

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Do Women Need a Mediator to Come to God?

[Edit 5/9 to Add: Steve Brown wrote me, that gracious man, and emphasized that he did not mean anything of the sort with the word priest---that by priest, he meant to encourage the many men who think that spirituality is for women, NOT to encourage the patriarchal model as taught by Vision Forum, et all.  I really appreciated his response and have a feeling we're pretty much on the same page, though I would still request a different word would be better suited to do so, as "priest" carries with it the connotation of mediation].   

[Edit Later in 5/8  to Add:  Thanks to some of the illustrious comments here, it has come to my attention that what I think of when I hear the word, "priest," is not what Zacharius or Brown may be thinking of.  To which I would add, what is a Biblical definition for the word priest?  A typical dictionary definition reads: one authorized to perform the sacred rites of a religion especially as a mediatory agent between humans and God.  So, okay, I suppose if folks want to use the word, "priest," so be it, but I admit it is a very confusing word to use if they are not intending to advocate for male mediatorship.  And, yes, EVEN though Steve Brown is a Calvinist, I still like him anyway.  I'm a very gracious person, considering my severe allergy to TULIPs.]  :)

The title of this post is a fair question (though my Protestant leanings are obvious), considering the commonly held notion that the husband is priest of the wife.  I recently listened to a clip where Ravi Zacharius (someone I respect) said that as a man, he was “the priest of his home” (this while also advocating mutual submission). 

That very same day, my favorite Bible teacher, Steve Brown, said, in a podcast I was listening to (in the Scandalous Freedom series, the “Punishing Plagues of Putting People on Pedestals,” to be specific), that as a husband and father, he was “the priest of his home” (while at the same time advocating that no one put an earthy authority in the place of God and that to do so is to be in idolatry).

I enjoy both of these teachers and intend to continue to do so.  But the fact that they both used the word “priests” to describe males (meaning, do they believe and teach that men are priests over women, by virtue of gender) is something that struck me as surprising.  The fact that this concept is pretty mainstream in conservative circles is something I’d like to talk about.  Is this “male priesthood” a Biblical New Testament concept?  If so, then where does the NT specifically say that husbands are priests for their wives? 

I feel pretty comfortable with my Bible, as a student of the Scriptures for some time now, yet I can’t locate any verse that says anything about men being priests for women (please correct me if I’m wrong).  And if the Bible doesn’t say that, how has this idea become so mainstream that even more egalitarian-leaning teachers still believe that men are priests. 

To get more specific, let’s talk about what a priest actually does.  Where does the NT say that a man stands before God as a priest of his wife?  Where does the NT say that a man stands before God on behalf of his wife, or that a man stands before God to hear instruction that God wishes him to pass to his wife?  Where does it say that God wishes to speak to a wife through her husband, or wishes a husband to speak to God on behalf of his wife? 

And what about the implications to the gospel itself?  Are we really okay with saying that one human mediates before God for another in a God-ordained role of priest?  Was the sacrifice of Jesus not enough for us?  Do we still yet need a mediator?  Why do Protestants so quickly revile the priests of the Catholic and Orthodox traditions, yet so easily accept an extra-Biblical teaching that husbands are priests over wives?    

“But He, having offered one sacrifice for sins for all time, sat down at the right hand of God…for by one offering, He has perfected for all time those who are sanctified.”  Hebrews 10:12, 14 NASB

Was the song to the Lamb referring only to men here, when they sang,

“And Thou hast made them to be a kindom and priests to our God; and they will reign upon the earth.”  Revelation 5:10 NASB

Is the mediation of Christ not enough for me, because I am a women?  Do I need an earthly mediator to make up for what Jesus lacks?

“…And to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant…”  Hebrews 12:24a NASB

Standing in His Grace

“It was for freedom that Christ set us free; therefore keep standing firm and do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery.

…You have been severed from Christ, you who are seeking to be justified by law; you have fallen from grace.”     –Galatians 5:1,4

Surely, I can’t be the only one.  Tell us all when you discovered you’d been living the “Christian life” by law instead of by grace, and tell us how our star-flinging-yet-gentle-handed Yahweh set you free.   

Fam-Damily Update

 

I was going to write a brief brag about the fact that I’ve just potty-trained my fifth kid.  Don’t you think there should be a medal or something for this landmark achievement?  Though, admittedly, I’ve become a big slacker compared to my early days.  I mean, my first child (at 16 mos) got a potty chair for Christmas!  Shoot, I was ready to go before she was even born.  Potty training before age two or immediately thereafter was practically a moral issue.  That’s what happens when you take a triple-alpha over-achiever and let her be a mother.     

Well, let me be frank.  The only reason Jireh just got potty trained is because I shamed myself into it.  I mean, he’s turning three this month and has been begging to “go on da potty” for almost half a year now (while I’ve been trying to convince him otherwise).  That, combined with the fact that I just ran out of the huge super-saver box of diapers… 

Surprisingly, the potty training went super quick.  I guess that’s what happens when you wait until they have, like, a full vocabulary, can put on their own underpants, and have been wanting go “like brothers do it” for a while now.  Gee.  I wish I would have learned this approach before the fifth kid. 

Nonetheless, I was still feeling a bit pleased with my son’s quick adaptation to toilet life, until this morning when, while wanting to help him get dressed, I couldn’t find his thick little cotton training pants.  I asked him where he’d put them and he proudly informed me that he “flushed ‘em down da potty.”  I took a deep breath (and tried to remember the fact that it really was funny, all things considered) and explained to him that we don’t flush our undies. 

One hour later, he peed again.  And flushed his undies.  I found out right away, because of the loud panicked screams eminating from the bathroom area.  Rushing in, I found an almost-three-year-old trapped on the top of a toilet that was, shall we say, overflowing it’s bounds.  After rescuing him and getting him washed up (and the floor), he seemed to understand a little better about why we don’t flush undies.  At least, I hope.


Item #2 of family news is that our family has grown!  Check out this move-able chicken coop my husband built for us!  It’s for four gorgeous laying hens, which we bought from a friend (so we could get eggs NOW, instead of raising them from chicks), but they became free-range when the Blue Russian escaped and flew up to a spruce tree, whereupon she yelled at us voraciously, in that highly offended way that only an upset hen can do.  She succeeded in winning them their freedom.  They enjoy pecking around the farm house fields, scratching and picking at all the little green shoots that are just starting to appear.  The chickens always come back to the coop at night to sleep and to lay eggs during the day, and, so far, the bald eagles haven’t eaten them. 


 The dog is doing just fine with the chickens, which was more of a concern to me than the eagles are, what with the demise of two rabbits we let loose a couple years ago.  To be fair, I never did *see* him do it…  But he has this thing for fur over feathers, I’ve learned.  The reason I bring this up is because good friends of ours just passed on a brother and sister rabbit to my girls.  Hopefully the injuction against incest doesn’t apply to bunnies, because I sort of didn’t get the wire seperating the cages fastened as tightly as it apparently needed to be.  In fact, I didn’t get it tight enough three times in a row. 

I finally went out and nailed a board inbetween them, so all is well, other than the fact that my kids know what the phrase, “breed like rabbits” means now.  And what a male rabbit’s organ looks like.  Might as well learn some science while we’re at it, I figure… 

 



I’m betting you didn’t know that rabbits could be leashed.  I didn’t either, but my girls dragged me to the feed store and each bought themselves a “rabbit harness.”  Note the dog’s hungry look.  Rosemary and Basil got loose yesterday (which happens almost every time the girls put them in the harnesses) and it took us the rest of the day to catch them.  When I finally got Basil, I noticed quite a collection of dog slobber on his back.  Looks like we can’t let the rabbits go free-range until Mighty the Dog gets arthritis or something.  It’s just as well.  Who needs hay fields full of genetically-stupid bunnies? 

Speaking of hay fields, here’s a picture of the three boys going for a walk.  Life is good.   


   

The (Changing?) Face of Homeschooling

It used to be that before I went to a homeschool seminar/fair, I’d feel the deep urge to don a denim jumper. 

[Off-topic: I remember one time we went to a anabaptist-ish "revival" meeting.  Even in my denim jumper (which I found out still wasn't okay---it  had embroidery on it, and it was denim, which is a masculine material, and I didn't make it myself), I royally flopped at fitting in.  They were really nice to me, though.  The other ladies had their hair up and under white coverings.   I had my long hair up in one of those black scrunchy things, and when I popped that out to rewind my hair, I thought the sweet lady I was talking to might pass out.  For her part, she gasped in an exceedingly gracious (and inadvertant) way, though I'd at least enough sense to realize that I did something REALLY wrong.  Later, when I heard their teaching tape on how a woman's hair is a sexual thing and to be reserved for a husband's eyes only, I sort of figured out where I messed up, similar to what I'd think if someone ripped off their clothes in the middle of the grocery store.  Like I said, she handled it really graciously!]. 

Though I’ve heard that homeschooling was started by secular and religous forces alike (and at one time it was a very bonded community, despite the huge differences in philosophy and practice), that tight community would later to be destroyed by a “Christian” coalition calling for all “like-minded” homeschoolers to remove themselves from the “worldly” homeschoolers (and/or kick them out of your local and state organizations) and “take back homeschooling for the Lord.” 

But I attended a (secular, though full of Christians) homeschool fair last week and noticed during the breakfast that many of the people in the room looked just like me. Yes, there were still the moms with long braided hair and dresses. But they were a welcome part of the group, not the dominant force in the group.  There were faces (dad’s, too) that represented just about every aspect of economic class, family size, and clothing styles.

And instead of talking about how great our particular curriculum choices were and how wonderfully everything was going at our home, brag, brag, brag, a lot of us had fellowship over the fact that it’s really hard to homeschool sometimes and to feel like you’re doing a good job with everything—how it’s hard not to get completely burned out (which is, actually, why a friend and I are starting a co-op next year).  It was a neat experience.     

On Trying to Explain a Living Thing

I can tell that, to some people, I’m terribly offensive now. I didn’t used to be that way (at least I don’t think). I was in the same trenches they were in. We were on the same side. When my paradigm came crashing in, I suppose it’s fair to say that I blew up in the trench, pieces of my dearest thoughts splattering all over treasured friends.

It would have really helped if I’d not been online, co-owning and co-running a big website, blog, and forum for conservative complementarian/patriarchal women. And even better, it would have been nice had I some clue what was happening to me, instead of being a big weeping frothing disaster of bones and flesh. All I knew for sure was that my whole world was coming crashing down—whether right or wrong, it was unstoppable. And when the dust and smoke began to clear, I discovered that my whole world consisted 99.9% of wood, hay, and stubble.

I’d thought it was built on solid bedrock, built on Christ. That’s why I taught those things, that’s why I lived those things. I thought they were Him. But after the shaking, only He was left. And I hardly recognized Him at all. There was just this big gaping hole of nothing—the place where all my neat little conclusions used to be. I realized that my whole world was gone. I’d thought it was built on Christ, but What I thought He was, Who I thought He was, had all burned away.

I say all of that to try and explain that which I cannot seem to explain. I didn’t know what I thought or what I should think, then. I was shell-shocked. But now I’ve admittedly changed many of my strongly held views. Some people are very angry that I am now egalitarian in my views on gender. (It doesn’t matter if I explain that both my personal experience and my Scriptural experience began telling me that I was very wrong–that I cannot support patriarchy and still be consistant with who I see God to be). Some are very angry that I am no longer conservative in my political views. (It doesn’t matter if I explain that I’m not really in any party: I’m just no longer a knee-jerk conservative Republican and I rebel against the false idea that “good Christians” have to be one).

Some people assume all sorts of things about what I think or mean—sort of a, “when in doubt, assume the worst” approach. I admit that I find it painful to be viewed as an enemy instead of a person. And some are very angry that I am anything at all. Once I left their camp, their affection for me evaporated on the spot.

Sometimes love is real, and sometimes it’s just a performance contest—something to the effect of, “You do things my way, and then I’ll grant you my affection.” Conditional love: a love based primarily on outward performance. Not the kind of love that the prodigal son’s father had. You find out if love is real when you stop dancing to the tune.

And my heart is tested in this same way. I really can’t say that I spend a lot of time at the end of the road, waiting in hope, hurting because my love runs deep. Most of the time I find myself identifying with the elder brother in the parable, scowling, grumbling, or happiest when the “bad kid” in the family isn’t doing so hot.

And while it really bothers me that I’m like that, usually I don’t even realize I am. It’s only in retrospect, during the hours when sleep won’t come and I replay events in my mind, realizing just how grace-less I was in my interactions. My friends and aquaintances who continue to hold my former beliefs: do they have the right to continue to hold things dear that I now reject? Do I treat them with grace and honor despite our (now) differences, or do I make them endure the thing I so hate? “Ahem. Perform properly so that I can love you.”

I hate group-think in theory, but group-think is a lot easier to be around. Hey, if everybody does things my way, it sure makes life easier. It sure makes relating easier. Not nearly so messy. We can all just be “like-minded.” I think “like-minded” is just a lace-draped way of saying, “I like myself.” Because if I only want to be around people who think just like I do, then its obvious what I really want to be around. Me.

But I don’t want to be around group-think, not really. It provides a false sense of community, a pretend version of love, but there’s no teeth in it. And besides, there was no group-think when the Star-Flinger left it all and was born disguised in wobbly baby arms and legs. No unanimous consent, no Orthopedic mattresses at night, no adoring throngs that fanned Him with palm branches lest His precious wittle face get sun-burnt. The reason John notes that they spread palms before Him is because it wasn’t a normal event.

Shepherds lead the way—that’s what they do best. So I want to follow, and in so doing I choose this messy complex muddy world, where we must slog through muck in order to love, with no guarantees of being loved in return.

Why Patriarchalists Shouldn’t Baptize Females (Dear Dr. John MacArthur on Women)

“The weakness of a woman is that she needs a head.”

“…No daughter of Eve should follow the path of Eve and lead to tragedy by entering into the forbidden territory of rulership that was intended for man.”

“…And the intent of what the Word is saying here is that a woman needs protection, that she has a certain vulnerability. She was designed with the need for a head. She was designed for the need for a leader. She was designed with the need for a protector and a savior.”   —-John MacArthur, from this sermon

Head means leader?  Head means savior?  MacArthur teaches his people that a woman’s male “head” is her savior.  It’s not so far fetched.  After all, I’ve shared before that patriarchy taught me exactly that: that a woman needs a male mediator.  It’s part of what made exiting patriarchy so hard—the thought that stepping out from “headship” and thinking for myself meant that I was wide open to Satan and under God’s wrath. 

This concept of “male as mediator” is taught by groups like Vision Forum who teach the gospel of federal headship (the male “head” represents his family to God), who apply it to church announcments and recieving the Lord’s Supper [males  must give it to females, a son to his mother if the father is not there, etc], but it’s not just taught by fringe groups.  Johnny Mac is pretty mainstream, sad to say, and that implies that the teaching quoted above isn’t all that odd. 

Consider these musings on the meaning of kephale/head: Grudem and kephale,  CBMW, Grudem, kephale,  Household: Head as Origin or Source, or Household: Household Code Lost in Translation, Kephale.   This is not to say emphatically that kephale cannot mean authority.  It is just to say that there are good and valid reasons to doubt that it does. 

John MacArthur’s quotes help dilineate for us just what happens when we think that women are designed by God to be under male authority.  A system of mediation begins to flourish, much like the Levitical priests mediated for the OT Israelites.  At which point we have to ask, did the work of the Cross truly form us all into prophets, priests and kings, or are those roles still partitioned off, only accessible to those who are able to be circumcized on the outside?  

Before Christ, the mark of faith was truly a male-oriented mark.  Circumcision was available to the female only in so far as she appropriated the circumcision of her male leader.  God never said that the Law would save us from the male-rule prophesied in Genesis 3:16, so we shouldn’t be shocked when we find patriarchy after the Fall.  There was One promised, though, who would break the chain of the Fall’s destruction, who would crush the head of the serpant. 

After Christ, the mark of faith was changed.  No longer a cutting of male-only flesh, the mark of faith became something accessible to all believers.  Baptism was and is available to Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female.  The mark of faith no longer demands that you identify with a certain cultural heritage, or belong to a specified gender or economic status.  

So bringing back male-mediation to women makes me think we should get rid of baptism and go back to circumcision—or maybe, to make it a little less painful for all the non-circumcized men out there, we should just stop baptizing females.  After all, I don’t need to be baptized, if John MacArthur is correct.  All I need to do is obey the leadership of my husband.  Hey, I was designed to be saved by following his lead, right?  So isn’t baptizing women a waste of a hard-working male pastor’s time and energy?  Just baptise the mediators—they can get dunked for the rest of us.      

    

HT to Cindy Kunsman, at Under Much Grace, taken from this post.   If your blood pressure can hack it, feel free to read the whole post, if you would like to experience a larger selection of quotes like the one above.   

Why I (Speaking in Servant-Love) Believe Men Should Not be Church Leaders

10. A man’s place is in the army.
9. The pastoral duties of men who have children might distract them from the responsibility of being a parent.
8. The physique of men indicates that they are more suited to such tasks as chopping down trees and wrestling mountain lions. It would be “unnatural” for them to do ministerial tasks.
7. Man was created before woman, obviously as a prototype. Thus, they represent an experiment rather than the crowning achievement of creation.
6. Men are too emotional to be priests or pastors. Their conduct at football and basketball games demonstrates this.
5. Some men are handsome, and this will distract women worshipers.
4. Pastors need to nurture their congregations. But this is not a traditional male role. Throughout history, women have been recognized as not only more skilled than men at nurturing, but also more fervently attracted to it. This makes them the obvious choice for ordination.
3. Men are prone to violence. No really masculine man wants to settle disputes except by fighting about them. Thus they would be poor role models as well as dangerously unstable in positions of leadership.
2. The New Testament tells us that Jesus was betrayed by a man. His lack of faith and ensuing punishment remind us of the subordinated position that all men should take.
1. Men can still be involved in church activities, even without being ordained. They can sweep sidewalks, repair the church roof, and perhaps even lead the song service on Father’s Day. By confining themselves to such traditional male roles, they can still be vitally important in the life of the church.  

I have shamelessly cut and pasted the hilarious above-quoted post from Serving Bread, and was made aware of the post by Helen from Conversation at the Edge.  We talk about women’s issues here a lot, since exiting the bowels of patriarchy has been a huge part of my life these last couple years. 

I know that those of you who were once, like me, fully invested in all the “godly” and “Biblical” and “logical” reasons for subjecting women will truly appreciate the above quote.  Good grief.  Men wouldn’t put up with this stuff.  I could never sucker my husband into believing the above.  So why did we women ever sit quietly and buy it?  Why do many women I know today still sit quietly and buy it—-an argument no less foolish than the one above? 

I only have one answer and it’s found in the prophetic words of Gen. 3:16, since no other explanation makes any shred of sense.  It wasn’t supposed to be this way.    

Hephzibah House in Indiana: Abuse Still Going On, Over 30 Years Later

It’s hard to try to explain the daily schedule at Hephzibah House.  Daily life was about so much more than just school and chores.  Each day was like a journey; you never knew which way the wind was going to blow.  It might be your lucky day, and the staff ladies would all be in good spirits, chores would be done successfully, and we would get a decent meal.  But on the other hand, the staff could be in a bad mood, none of your chores would pass inspection, and it would be the same dinner yet again (not that you would even get to eat it if your chores didn’t pass).  [Click here for full article]. 

In 1974, Ron Williams began Hephzibah House as a home that would provide “live-in rehabilitation and discipleship for women and girls.”     Being an independant fundamental seperatist Baptist means that Williams probably has vastly different ideas than you do about what constitutes rehabilitation and discipleship. 

The dictionary defines rehabilitate as, ”to restore to a former state.”  One must wonder what “former state” is Williams and his staff discipling girls into?  For example, former Student, Susan Grotte, writes:

 My name is Susan Grotte. I am writing to state officially that I was abused at Hephzibah House from February, 1981, to July, 1983. I realize that this is far in the past, and nothing can be done. However it has come to my attention that girls are suffering under the same cruel conditions right now.

The state of Indiana investigated while I was a student at Hephzibah House, but we were hidden in a dark church while they came through. A few girls who were coached and intimidated were allowed to stay and speak to the investigators.

 I was beaten with a paddle until I was black and blue. My skirt was pulled up, and I was laid out on the flour. One adult sat on my back and tightly held my arms, while another sat on my feet to keep me from kicking…

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The “Official” Tithe: Nyeh.

After faithfully tithing our money to whatever church we were attending, we’ve stopped. 

We were big tithers.  Tithing a tenth of our income to our local church was on the same page as commandments like, “Do not commit adultery.”  We have always tithed.  And we never complained about it, either.

fat wallet

We still practice the fine art of giving away more money than we should because, well, we are rich (even though we’re currently poor by American standards).  Let’s face it, by the standards of history and by the current standards of most other countries of the world today, we’re rolling in the hog fat.  Plus, we love giving.  Like, really love it.  In all likelihood, that love has come straight from the grace of God, which is more likely than saying it’s from our noble generous souls, but regardless, giving is sort of an addictive thing and once you get used to it, doesn’t hurt a bit.   

But I just can’t handle the idea of giving to a local church right now.  That could change, in years to come, particularly because it’s not like we’re really settled into a local church at this moment, and because I’ve not really fully processed the ”why’s” of my deep-seated urge not to give that direction.  If I had to be honest, I think my deeply intellectual thought process goes something like this: “Gee, pay the light bill for a big cushioned building, or save the life of a starving baby?”  (This is one of those times where having a few annoying WWJD bracelets actually would come in handy). 

I’m a huge fan of World Vision, particularly because they spend an incredibly low amount on administration.  Right now, most of our “give-it” money goes straight to the poor and the hurting.  (An aunt of mine works for WV, and part of her job involves flying to different parts of the world, making sure the donated funds get where they’re supposed to.  She has some pretty incredible stories). 

If you have the time and have some extra funds, I would highly recommend tooling around on the WV website, especially their Global Justice page.  I’m also a fan of giving money to the poor in my own neighborhood, ones that I know face to face, needs that I find out about because I’m in relationship with the person.  But I’m taking a break from paying my fair share of a church building’s electric bill.  Maybe if we ever get involved with a particular group again, that will change.  But so far, I’m really happy about it.         

[Edit to Add: Our previous income came 100% through tithes.  I am not saying that giving money to a church community is a bad thing.  Though I should probably let him speak for himself, I'll wager my husband appreciated being able to concentrate "full-time" on the youth and on music, thanks to a congregation that chose to tithe some of their money so that he could.  Personally, I see nothing wrong with providing an income for someone so that they can concentrate fully on serving others.  That idea is Biblically supported. 

Sometimes I wonder, though, if the way we approach ministry here is actually the best use of our money.  I have a lot of questions about the typical evangelical church set-up in my country.  Also, our current situation is one of not really having a church home.  We attend places.  But we haven't really "landed" anywhere, so to speak, and that partly on purpose (we're trying to take a Sabbath year off, and the quickest way to ruin that is to "join" a church that will want you to serve in every program they have, etc).  So not tithing to a particular church makes particular sense to me right now, since we don't really have one.  

The tithes to a church, though, seem like they should be spent primarily on serving the needy and to those working to serve the needy--at least if we are going to use the Bible as our guide for giving.  Sometimes I think that the tithe money most churches recieve is spent on the opposite.  If I were to begin tithing to a church community again, it would only be to one that puts the needy and those serving them first].