Daughters of the King

Each day, I pray that God will free his daughters from the artificial limits that we humans, both men and women put on them. Why, after all, cannot God's daughters pass a communion tray, or read a scripture, or say a public prayer during the "holy" hour on Sunday morning? I sometimes lack patience for people's unwillingness to even consider change.

Some people tell me that reason that we in Churches of Christ continue to cling to the traditional limits on women is that we have works-driven rather than grace-centered theology and soteriology. Because we fear that error on even a minor point will be sufficient to keep us out of heaven, we'd rather play it safe. That, of, course, was the logic of the one-talent man, who found, to his regret, that playing it safe is not what his master called or expected him to do.

Maybe there's truth in that analysis; but I hesitate to impugn other people's motives (though I do it anyway, sometimes). I do agree that we should teach grace, and to fail to do so leads us to fall naturally(1) back on our own works. But, I also remember that I have been on a long journey myself, and that I cannot expect people to change overnight if I didn't.

Still, I want to see change now. I'm impatient in my patience. "Father, free your daughters!"


1. Note the etymology of "natural": of one's birth. Maybe I'll write more on this another time.

Stasis

I feel like things are in stasis. We can't move on A because possibly B. We can't do C because we don't know how D is going to turn out, and D is out of our control. B is unsettled, and partially dependent on C. Meanwhile, I have someone--several someones, really--waiting for some response on A. Did you ever feel like you were running in molasses? Not to complain, though.

Maybe the solution has nothing to do with A-D. Maybe it's S.

Change along the Street

Greenwood Street was gravel when I lived on it. The last time I was there, it looked both the same, and different. The street has been paved, and the trees were either larger, or, in some cases, gone. Many of the houses have been modified, or are different colors. It serves as a metaphor.

What do you do when you have a commitment to one group, but people important to you are giving up on that group?

Streets change, trees grow or die. God is always the same.