This past Thursday and Friday I had the opportunity to attend a talk and workshop by a speaker I was introduced to a few years ago.  The topic was very relevant to my research interests, and I was also happy to revisit the ideas with a few more years of experience behind me.  Afterwards, I got the chance to catch up with the speaker a bit.  As we talked, he shared with me an interesting observation.  We were discussing different people's receptiveness to different kinds of research ideas.  He suggested that, for some people, it was hard to be open and show interest to new ideas.  To ask questions, be curious, or even to be deeply interested in something is to be vulnerable, to admit one's own lack of knowledge about an area.  For some, especially, perhaps, in academic settings, it is uncomfortable to admit that we don't know things.  

In my experience, this is something I've seen in both the scientific and faith communities.  

He went on with an example.  He said that there are some kinds of people who, when he approaches them with a question, they provide an answer.  But, there are other people in his life who, when he approaches them with a question, a conversation takes place.  

I couldn't help but think, as he spoke, Yes!  That's it!

Of course, it depends on the question, as well.  Some questions may warrant only answers.  For instance, when there are, in fact, answers.  But some questions warrant something more.  The answers are less defined, or nonexistent.  But we wish them to be clear.  Or perhaps we bring our bias to the table.  And we answer definitively what is not definitive.  

In science, we may be afraid to show our lack of knowledge.  We are judged, to some degree, by the answers we can provide, aren't we?  By the amount of data we can explain with our theories.  By what we can teach.  But the pursuit of science, of course, is not about explaining, really.  It is about asking.  It is about finding truth, and finding it through the act of exploring.  These goals are best fulfilled in conversation, in discussion.  May we never be so proud that we give an answer when we should engage in a conversation.  May we never be so afraid to be vulnerable that we miss an opportunity to learn, to discover.

In communities of faith, we are often afraid to show our doubt.  We are afraid to not have all the answers.  We face questions from all sides, from without, from within.  Perhaps we read some of them as criticisms.  (Perhaps sometimes they are intended that way.)  It's easier to agree or disagree.  It's not easy to sit in the in-between, to wrestle with a question for a prolonged period of time, to admit that there are no easy answers.  But sometimes that's just what the world needs, what we need.  Not a pat answer so we can sleep at night with the ease of having every piece in place, but an admission that the world is not as it should be, an acknowledgement that there's so much we don't know, but it's ok because God does.  Maybe we need to be more open, stay up late with all the pieces scattered on the floor, not trying to sort them out, but just staring at them in prayer.  Maybe we need to feel small... to remember how big He is.  Maybe we need to feel a little less sure, and realize that it's when we don't have the answers that trust really matters.

Maybe all of us need to give less answers and have more conversations.  

I have a fear.  The fear is that if I really posted the above ad somewhere, there would be zero responses.  Or worse, mocking attack.  

The reality behind my fear is this: I feel rejected by the Christian communities I grew up loving so dearly.  And, now approaching 30, I find it hard to even find friends in these places, let alone someone who might want to do lunch, or life, in a more romantic sense.  

I have soul-searched.  And there are a variety of reasons why I don’t fit the mold, I realize this.  Reasons why I don't seem to fit in: Autoimmune disorders.  Life as a PhD student.  Activism.  They all add a layer that, to one group or another, may make me a little harder to understand.  It would take a truly unique person to accept all of these layers.  Maybe it’s just me.  

But I’ve talked to my sisters.  And it’s not just me.  We live in New York, Chicago, California, the South… We love Jesus and He’s given us a heart and a voice to effect cultural, societal change.  We are vulnerable: sharing our experiences- good, bad, and ugly, opening up our homes, our hearts, our arms.  Loving the unlovely.  Sharing His love with the marginalized.  Following where we feel Him leading.  

We want to make the world a better place.  We want to bring the Kingdom to earth.  We want to share His love, His light, His peace.  But we also want, someday, partners and families of our own.  

And the devil comes and tells us that we can have them if…

...if we were a little less smart.
...if we lie about our education level.
...if we slow down.
...if we were a little quieter.
...if we drop ‘feminist’ from our online dating profile.
...if we were a little less self-sufficient.
...if we conform a bit.
...if we were a little less nerdy.
...if we were a little less socially awkward.
...if we were… something else.

In other words, we can have them if we compromise; if we stop being what He has called us to be.

And we stand firm, most of us.  Because being what He has called is better than life, better than what we want, better than acceptance.  

But sometimes, we doubt.  Because if we are doing the right thing, shouldn’t it be a little bit easier?  And wouldn’t we get a little more support from the people around us?  Wouldn’t the church (that we are so committed to serving) recognize these things?

When the church fails to accept and embrace diversity- be it in education level, in career path, in body type, in political affiliation, in gender, in race, in ethnicity, in skin color, in hobbies, in favorite food or calling- it provides a stumblingblock for those of us who do not fit the mold, despite the fact that we are on the ground, working hard for His purposes.

When the church fails to accept and embrace diversity, 
it provides a stumblingblock for those of us who do not fit the mold.

When the church does not recognize our efforts, or- worse yet- sees our efforts and questions our Christianity (because it looks different than ‘mainstream’ Christian culture), it is at risk.  It is at risk of losing our efforts, our giftings, our talents.  I’m not talking about the risk that we will just cease to go to church, or to follow Christ (although, if we’re pushing people away that hard, we should be a little concerned about that, rather than just thinking that it is their ‘sin’).  I’m talking about the risk of having people amongst us, in our churches, who are silently coasting or are holding back because, while they have lots to contribute, they have been told they don’t fit.

We don’t understand them, so we think they don’t have anything to offer.  

A quote (often attributed to Einstein) says, “Everyone is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”  

Likewise, Paul says, in 1 Corinthians 12:17, “If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be?”

Let’s stop assuming that anyone who doesn’t look like us isn’t doing it right.  Let’s vow to talk to someone who seems different and discover the beautiful things God is doing in them.  Without judging, without trying to change them.  Go put down roots into real, honest, engaging friendship.  Go ask the scientist in your church what he’s working on.  Go ask the activist what cause stirs her up.  Go start a conversation about how the church can support these individuals, their work, their callings.  Go ask him what he’s passionate about, what God is doing in Him.  Go ask her how she wants to change the world.  Go ask her to have lunch.  Go ask him to grab a cup of coffee with you.  Go ask her out.  Go ask.  And listen.  Really listen.  Listen to the hearts of people who love Jesus telling you what Jesus is doing in and through them.  

...Because when you ask and when you listen, we can’t hear the devil tempting us to shrink.  

After a series on feminism and purity, a reflection on Proverbs 31, and a lengthy series on faith and science, I am afraid that this may be my most controversial post yet.  I actually do worry about that kind of thing, and I am worried.

I have tried to make this blog a politics-free zone.  Despite so many headlines over the past 8+ months that I've been blogging here, I have focused on the fact that this blog is about faith, science, and feminism, and related issues.  And that none of the social-justice-related headlines that have stirred me up fit this criteria.

But here's the thing: 

That's taken straight off my About Me page.  

And I have talked about communication, because it's a gift I believe God has given me and I believe it's been an overarching purpose of my life.  And part of this blog is to encourage communication and dialogue- real understanding- between groups that often don't have that.  

And, feminism, as a movement, has always incorporated other aspects of social justice into its purposes. 

So here goes.  Do remember my House Rules for comments and my own responses.  

Current events show that the social justice issues are numerous.  
To name a (very) few:
1) Racism and the Black Lives Matter movement
2) LGBT issues, including the Supreme Court marriage ruling and how the Church should respond to LGBT individuals.  
3) Most recently, the spotlight on the mind-boggling refugee crisis going on right now.  

I am tired.  I am tired of the debates.  I am tired of the debates in the Church.  I am tired of us all letting someone distract us from the work that there is to be done.  I am tired of the false divides.  I am tired of the "You can't be a Christian if..." games.  

You can't be a Christian if...
...you don't vote Republican.
...you don't look like me.
...you don't worship like me.  
...you identify as a feminist. 
...you think it's ok that Target got rid of some gender-related signs (which, btw, is mostly in the toys and home sections-- where, can we all agree, it's not necessary?)

And the list goes on and on, from heavy theological debates to the ridiculous. 

But there is one thing I know.  And it's John 3:16, the heart of the gospel.  It says, "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."  

Whoever.  No if's, and's, or but's.  That means you.  

And that person next to you who votes differently or thinks differently-- they're not necessarily wrong.  And even if they are, that's ok too, because "He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins."  We don't have to be perfect.  God is still working on all of us.  And making someone feel rejected or unloved is not going to hurry them along to what you consider "right living."  Only the Holy Spirit can do that, and only God has the right to convict a heart.  And if you feel He's called you to facilitate that conviction: my advice to you is to be cautious.  We are called to correct in love-- and love must exist in relationship.  

We have real problems in the world.  Cue the short list above with racism, refugees, disease, death, etc.  And I'm tired of defending my positions, not to unbelievers, but to fellow Christians who are in fear for my soul.  Meanwhile, Jesus tells us to check our own hearts first.  

And regarding that work we have to do- to help aid and fix those real-world problems- Jesus tells us that "The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few."  I wonder if the harvest would be better harvested if we were more about serving the least of these.  And I wonder if the workers are few because too many of us are standing in the field debating about the best way to harvest the grain instead of pitching in with the work.  

Jen Pollock Michel's book Teach Us To Want really taught me how to think of the Kingdom of God in a new way.  When I used to read Scripture passages about the Kingdom of God, I thought it meant Heaven.  It was a someday, far-away reference.  But this book challenged me with the statement, "The reign and rule of Jesus Christ is the kingdom."  

Further, as we pray the words of the Lord's Prayer, "Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven," and combine them with that statement, it creates an urgency. A right-here-right-now.  She points out:

May we approach everyone with the understanding that "the Kingdom of God has come near"-- and that is GOOD news.  It's not in some far-off place to come, it came with the arrival of Jesus.  We are Kingdom-builders, not just in some eternal-someday way, but right now when we serve the unloved, the poor, the marginalized.  

Even when they don't look like us, or believe like us, or vote like us, or they have sin in their life.  They may be another race, or religion.  You may not understand them.  You don't have to understand, you don't have to think they're right; you have to serve.  We are called to be Christ's hands and feet.  And when we look at the Gospels, those hands often embraced "sinners" and those feet often walked right where the "religious" thought they shouldn't.  

We are called to be Kingdom-builders, and serve the unloved, the poor, the marginalized.  

Even when the other builders don't look like you or believe like you, or vote like you, or you think they have sin in their life.  

As Sarah Bessey says in Jesus Feminist, "Let's sit here in hard truth and easy beauty, in the tensions of the Now and the Not Yet of the Kingdom of God, and let us discover how we can disagree beautifully."  

Let's stop arguing and let's get to work.
The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few.