What Happened to Joseph? The Message In the Mystery

Most of the time when December rolls around, people tend to focus on telling the story of Mary and of Jesus's birth. I do, too... but this year, there has been a strange sort of question lurking in the back of my mind that has come to the forefront with the holiday season: what happened to Joseph?

Usually whenever Joseph is discussed in any length, it's only during this month: we acknowledge his sacrifice of honor and dignity in accepting a child that wasn't his own, and then we move on. But beyond that, he's hardly ever mentioned. The only other cameo he makes is in the story where Jesus remains in the temple as a little boy about to come of age. Even then, Joseph doesn't say anything. And he never returns to the stories after that. In fact, whenever the family of Jesus is present in Matthew 12:46 and Mark 6:3, they're referred to as his "mother and brothers." Joseph is only mentioned in passing, as if he isn't there (Luke 4:22). So had he died? Had he stayed home?

Perhaps he wasn't mentioned because he was already part of the crowd following Jesus... or perhaps he refused to come because he didn't approve of what Jesus was doing.

Perhaps he was a good father, and was just working at his trade to keep food on the table for his remaining family.

Or perhaps he finally got fed up with the social abuse from his community because of his scandalous marriage, and he left his family entirely.

Perhaps he died at the hands of Roman soldiers while trying to protect his wife and children in a misunderstanding.

Perhaps he drank himself to death.


Perhaps he got sick and faded away.

Perhaps he was abusive and treated his bastard son with less favor because of the dishonor it brought on their family.

Perhaps he was a workaholic:  just "too busy" to ever come out and see his son.

Perhaps he had a heavy workload that week and was under orders to make yet more crosses for the Roman soldiers.

Perhaps he was frustrated with Jesus for not taking up carpentry.

Perhaps he died just as Jesus turned thirteen.

Perhaps he died right before Jesus began his ministry as an adult.

Perhaps he out-lived his surrogate son, just as Mary did.


There are plenty of possibilities, with some generally accepted more than others. But perhaps there's a reason God doesn't give us a clear-cut answer. Because however it happened, whenever it happened, sometimes the details don't matter  in a situation like that. The only thing that does matter is that Jesus very well might have been fatherless... but at least he wasn't Fatherless.

Leaving What is Great For What Is Best

I haven’t written a blog post in a while.

I’m sure you noticed… if not during the past few months, then you’ve certainly realized it now. The central reason for that is, in short, my journey into adulthood. I’m not talking about learning how to provide for myself, necessarily; that transition wasn’t too drastic. I’m referring to the facet of adulthood that a lot of graduates don’t even expect: a major decrease in one’s social life.

You see, something I’ve been learning for the past year and a half is how to find peers as an adult. In school, friends are easy to find because you’re obligated to sit for six hours in the same room with twenty other people that are your age. You go to college and can live in a dorm and hang out in buildings that are filled with nothing but teenagers. But in adulthood, sometimes you’re lucky to be working at a job that has at least one person your age, let alone a handful.

This was especially hard for me to get used to because I grew up in a large family and then spent four years in a massive dorm; I’m used to having people around all the time. And it’s not just because I’m an extrovert; I have a lot of introverted tendencies, too. I need massive doses of alone-time every day to recharge my emotions. Many people will tell you that when I’m around the house, I’ll often go hours without saying a word to anyone or looking up from my own work. But I still like having the option of putting aside inanimate objects in exchange for a real conversation. I need relationships. Even if you want to claim that you yourself don’t need others, people are constantly changing, and therefore they are life’s only real reliable form of entertainment. Half of the things I’m passionate about were introduced to me by other people.

Why am I rambling on about this? Because I came to Atlanta and knew that I was going to be lonely unless I plugged in. So I did. And one of the central places that I looked to invest myself was in a church. The trouble was, I ended up falling in love with two very different churches. Both have very Biblical teachings, which was my first priority… and since one of them has an evening service, I was able to attend both on any given Sunday for a long time. But I always had that nagging feeling that I should pick one.

Now, having moved homes as many times as I have, I’ve learned that the best way to feel at home in a church is to start serving in it. Almost immediately after finding the first church (a near-mega-church in central Atlanta, with countless young adults and amazing worship), I volunteered to join their media team and operate a shoulder-mounted camera on the stage crew. Within weeks, working on the camera crew became one of my favorite parts of the week; I was working with professionals, meeting with young adults, building some great friendships, and I was able to use my passion for film in the worship services and minister to countless people through a camera. I got a lot of compliments on my work, too, which really kept my chin up when I was between jobs.

The other church that I found could hardly be more different. It’s a small bilingual church closer to where I live, barely more than twenty people on a full day. They actually meet in a school cafeteria, rather than their own building, and there are only about four singles there (including me). And yet for all that it lacked in appearance, I fell in love with it and started many relationships there as well.

For several months, I attended both churches: one in the morning, one in the evenings. I could never quite escape the nagging feeling that I needed to choose one, but for a long time I simply couldn’t choose — and I didn’t have to choose.

As Autumn rolled in, I started a two-month internship with a post-house called Outback Editorial, where I got to observe the making of commercials firsthand. It was a fun experience, though not much different from being a PA. I realize now that I never really blogged about it… (I’m not sure why. Maybe I’ll get on that soon.) I also met an amazing woman in Atlanta who publishes Hers Magazine, and she took me on for a while to write some feature articles and construct online surveys for her readers.

But as time passed, I felt myself stretched more and more in multiple directions. BSF (Bible Study Fellowship International) started in September. My work hours at Outback were longer than they had been previously with Spitfire Studios. Not drastically different, but enough that I could feel a strain. My commitment to write for Hers, when piled upon my previous commitment to write blogs for The Fangirl Initiative, gave me little “free time” left once the work hours and church activities were all over.

Eventually, as my work for different groups grew poorer and poorer, I realized that my thirst for human company had turned me into an over-committer: something I never was in high school or college. But now that I’d spent a few months in Atlanta, meeting new people wasn’t the problem anymore: it was building stronger relationships with the people that I had met.

In fact, my schedule only got more full when I took a new job once the internship ended. (That in itself is an incredible story which deserves its own blog post.) I’m currently working full-time with a studio that does more corporate videos than films, but I actually feel like I’m a vital part of my workplace now. I’ve been able to help edit footage and write scripts, and the nagging fear of inadequacy that’s lurked over me all summer is finally gone. It’s a phenomenal job and I absolutely love it… it’s just that, with rush-hour traffic, this dream-job is an unfortunate hour away from home on any given day, and that has taken a ton of time off my plate.

Beginning in October, I had to start reaching out to my different commitments and confess that I was doing them a disservice by continuing the way things were. I didn’t have enough time. Soon the weight on my shoulders lessened and lessened, until the only major decision that I had left was… which church should I pursue?

With no clear answer before me, I started to pray (usually during my two daily hours in the car) that God would show me where to serve.

A few days later, the small church was having a retreat up in the mountains. Part of me didn’t want to go, because I wanted so badly to stay at home instead of spending another day in the car (and attending yet another a Bible study, I’ll admit). But I did go, and I was delightfully surprised to find that the retreat was almost nothing but games and recreation: all twenty of us with a rec building by the woods. Because I am me, in no time flat I found myself joining the kids and teenagers in whatever games they were playing… and whenever they got bored, I came up with something new. (Thank you for teaching me how to entertain children on the fly, Winshape Camps!) Even in the evening when we broke out the board games and playing cards, we were all screaming and laughing until our sides hurt. It was a “vacation” that I had very much needed.

The next morning at that church, one of the pastors pulled me aside and asked me to pray about leading the middle schoolers, because he hadn’t seen them have that much fun together for months. Immediately I felt the overwhelming urge to say yes, but I knew right away that I couldn’t commit to be a youth leader unless I gave up working the cameras at my other church. I told him that I did want to do it, but that I needed to pray for a day or so to be absolutely sure — which he understood.

I spent the next days with my heart constantly beating a little faster. Not with stress, but with excitement. From an outside standpoint — even a logic standpoint — the big church makes more sense for my current stage of life. It’s filled with singles, film professionals, and a lot of social events. The small church doesn’t really have any of those things.

But they genuinely need me.

After speaking to a few people about it, I finally reached the resolution that I don’t need five hundred single men or twenty film professionals in my life: I just need one. The right one. And if I’ve learned anything in my short little life, it’s that God can use any circumstances, no matter their appearances, to bring about great things.

I finally called the big church to explain my dilemma, and to ask whether or not they would be able to manage without me; I certainly didn’t want to walk out on them abruptly and leave a sour taste in their mouths. I actually discovered the truth about myself and about how I felt as I explained it to them: “I wanted to stay for years, and never leave the camera crew until an act of God pulled me away.

“And God has acted… just a lot sooner than I thought.”

The best part was, they understood completely. Today is my last Sunday on the cameras, in fact. The final service is coming up as I write this. I’ve been calm and composed all day… with a bizarre mixture of relief, heartbreak, and euphoria. I certainly didn’t expect to find myself crying, though. It happened after hearing several of my leaders say how much they were going to miss me, how much they had come to rely on my skill (again, such an encouragement after my self-esteem drop between jobs), and how much they had hoped to see me grow with their teams. Though I’m not even moving away from Atlanta, it still feels like I’m also leaving behind a thousand chances to work with these people that I admire so much.

In the past, whenever I’ve had to make a tough decision, I’ve usually been able to follow God’s call without deviating from my own personal preferences. My college, my career, my hobbies… This was the first time that I really had to look at my circumstances and make a choice between rock-solid logic and God’s inexplicable call.

Staying here at the big church wouldn’t be bad. It would be great, in fact. So great! I'm serving God, I'm honing my abilities, I'm connecting with professionals… and I didn't realize until now how painful it is for me to leave.

But yet again, God is calling me somewhere else. Somewhere that maybe, at first glance, doesn’t look like the sort of place that I need, or that my career needs, or my romantic prospects. But it is a place that needs me, and a place where my impact for God’s kingdom just might be more powerful.

Staying here would be great… but God wants me to go somewhere better. In the words of Michelle Waters, I'm like a little child clutching a handful of dandelions… but my Father wants me to let them go in order to receive a rose.

Growing Faith and a Winding Path

     It’s funny how much my work in film has affected my way of thinking. The more stories that I write, the more I see myself as a character in a bigger story.

     I first had such a thought years ago — in middle school, I think.

     Heroes are still unsure and afraid about their futures, but they go through trial after trial and face the enemy regardless. Sometimes they place their trust in “destiny” or “fate” or “luck,” or some other cosmic force overseeing all — and they ultimately survive, because good always conquers evil. And huzzah for them.

     But if you think about it, that all-powerful force manipulating their lives is actually just the author. The person writing the story is the one who can control the circumstances of the characters, rearranging events and otherwise-uncontrollable-factors all for the sake of a good yarn. Only the writer (and his eventual audience) understands the themes and the symbolism that are interwoven with the lives of the protagonists. Our heroes often find out later (or sometimes never) what would have happened if they had just been three seconds slower or faster, if they hadn’t bent down to tie their shoe at that time, if they hadn’t tripped into the pond and gone searching for a cleaner on that day. We know, but they may not, that one small insignificant moment ultimately directed the entire course of their future.

     As I thought this through in the midst of my adolescence, I started to compare my new metaphor with what I had learned (and was still learning) about what God is like. The more I squinted at the two concepts, the more they blended into one. And the more I’ve embrace the idea, the more true it has become within my life.

     “God is not hurried along in the Time-stream of this universe any more than an author hurried along in the imaginary time of his own novel. He has infinite attention to spare for each one of us.” - C.S. Lewis

     There is of course one central difference between God and any human author: His motive for ‘writing.’ I may manipulate the circumstances in a tale for all sorts of reasons — to speed up the plot, to create tension and excitement, to keep an audience guessing. But that’s not what God is up to. He doesn’t create conflict, but he does manipulate it for the eventual triumph of good over evil. He doesn’t keep people from facing difficult or even deadly obstacles, but he uses their struggles to impact the lives of other people in ways that can’t be measured by man. 

     Personally, I can hardly wait for the day when everyone in Heaven gets to sit down and watch the Ultimate Movie about the world, where God shows us how the tiniest circumstances had major effects on the direction of humankind; where we’ll gasp at the parallels between the lives of people that may have never interacted; where we’ll shake our heads in awe at how close we came to entirely different fates. It will be the most extensive, interwoven, complicated plot ever to exist, but we won’t lose track of it for a millisecond.

     Okay, so that day may not exist according to any theologically-sound doctrine, but you get the idea. It’s a bit related to my metaphor earlier this year, about life being a puzzle/patchwork quilt.

     But why am I telling you all of this? Why must you muddle through all of Rica’s nerdy spiritual musings in order to hear what she’s actually up to?

     Because hearing what’s happened to me may be somewhat interesting, but it’s important to me that you also hear how I have learned to react to my circumstances. In a few short years I have gone from a teenager with an uncertain future to a young adult charging full speed ahead with no compass or fuel other than (despite how cheesy it may sound) faith in God.

     So what have I been doing?

     Quite a bit. I spent my first month in Atlanta with some precious family friends, functioning as the newfound daughter for the mother of the house (who raised four boys and was beyond delighted at the novel experience of having a fellow lady around the house). That gave me some time to acclimatize myself to the new city and the new job.

     I immediately took to Atlanta more than I expected. There are a lot of trees, fields, and landscaping arrangements that keep the city from feeling claustrophobic. It’s humid, yes, but most people keep their air-conditioning at deliciously-cold temperatures. Some people complain about the traffic, but I don’t usually mind it because I’ve just learned to give myself plenty of extra time; it’s not stressful if you’re not in a hurry. In fact, I’ve really enjoyed catching up on a lot of sermon podcasts and audiobooks whenever I’m on the road.

     (By the way, my two tips to Atlanta drivers:

     1. There is a pothole approximately every 100 yards on every street, so be prepared to try and maneuver around them while staying in a single lane.

     2. Keep to the right until absolutely necessary, because there may not be a left turn signal at the next light and you could get stuck behind one or two poor blokes who have to wait for the intersection to clear up.)

     After a month with my host-family, I finally got to move into the townhouse and begin living like an adult: cooking my own meals, collecting my own furniture, and — oh, yeah — paying bills. Fortunately, I was working as many extra hours as I could, and I was being handsomely reimbursed for the mileage that I was driving whenever the directors sent me to pick up anything.

     I really enjoyed my job, too. Though I was sometimes little more than an errand-runner, I know that a lot of the work that I did was highly useful and highly needed. The studio was cozy and the people were very nice. My daily schedule varied extensively, from sorting through old receipts to picking up equipment from shops to running packages to film sets. I got to spend a lot of time just soaking in wisdom from the professionals around me, and they were very encouraging.

     At the end of June, when the studio finished up the film they were working on, my time with them came to a close and they didn’t choose to keep me on for any future projects. I won’t pretend it wasn’t disappointing; being selected or rejected for a job always has an effect on someone’s self-esteem, and after all the hard work that I went through to get hired in my actual career field, I did feel let down at how quickly it was over.

     But the strange thing is, as I sat there thinking on everything that was going on around me, an odd peace started to creep into my thoughts. Because, somehow, I just knew that God wouldn’t bring me to Atlanta and set me up with a place to live so flawlessly only to have me turn around and pack up. I found out that my family had actually been praying that I might find a more solid, full-time job. And the more I prayed and applied to new positions, the more He proved to be faithful and attentive.

     Within mere hours of finishing my final work day, I received an email from a professional at CNN. She and I had been trying to connect since I had arrived in May, but our schedules kept us both tangled; and now she was finally available to meet — on a day and at a time that I would have otherwise been unavailable for if I was still working. That was an immediate encouragement, because I knew that even if it didn’t lead to a job, it was still God’s reminder to me that He was in control of the situation.

     That doesn’t mean I didn’t send out job applications, of course, but I knew that I didn’t have to mentally beat myself up for every hour that passed without any results. Furthermore, I hadn’t been frivolous with my earnings; I spent so little that I have enough to pay for at least two months of rent, if not three or more. I was already scheduled to do some dog-sitting for my host-family, starting on the 3rd. I had just received an invitation to spend the Fourth of July with a friend and her family. And after two months of working tirelessly, I actually had an open schedule to visit my family and see their new house.

     With plenty of businesses winding down in preparation for Independence Day, I decided that running around town during the week before the holiday wouldn’t be very productive. Instead, I sent out applications over the weekend (which I basically use as heralds to tell studios I’ll be coming by in a few days to ensure they got my resumé). Then I planned to head back to Kentucky for a quick vacation, just after the meeting at CNN, which was scheduled to be on Monday at noon.

     But we didn’t meet on Monday at noon.

     I got an email that morning, stating that due to a scheduling conflict, my contact at CNN had to postpone our meeting until the next day. I was a bit disappointed; after all, I wanted to see my family and their new house, and that visit was only going to be three days long in the first place… now, just two. But as I prayed and sat there, I wondered if God wanted me to have that extra day in Atlanta for a specific reason. After all, I had done and was doing everything in my power to leave, but God was in control of my external circumstances and was having me stay for 24 more hours.

     When I let my family know about the schedule change, my mother reminded me, “A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps,” (Proverbs 16:9). And that is exactly what happened.

     Because my Monday was now completely free, I ended up getting in touch with some acquaintances from a church that I had visited in Atlanta. A family friend of ours attends there, and so the pastor had been wondering if I would be willing to meet and talk about how welcoming his church was. When I let him know that my afternoon had opened up, he admitted that he just happened to have an open schedule, too!

     We found a Starbucks to chat, where I met him and another church-member nearer my age, and we just... really invested in each other. I was able to give them lots of information, advice, and praise about their ministry. They were able to give me lots of encouragement and prayer about my newly-uncertain future. They explained that they were thinking of planting a church to reach out to college students and young adults; I was able to answer their questions about what that demographic may be attracted by. (Church Fact #1: teens are more likely to come back if you have food and comfy chairs. That may sound pretty shallow, but adolescents can be shallow, too.) Near the end, they even asked if I was interested in receiving some discipleship training in the Fall — to which I enthusiastically said yes.

     That discussion was a phenomenally encouraging experience, and it was a great reminder to me of God’s control and plan for my life. I had wanted to get outta dodge before nightfall, but He kept me in Atlanta so that I could have that meeting.

     I had a plan and a path, but God still made sure that my feet fell in specific places along the way. Every time I start to feel discouraged or uneasy, I just “happen” to run across encouraging messages. I get texts from loved ones that mention scriptures like 2 Chronicles 20. I hear different sermons that remind me of my identity in Christ (including one about James 4:13-17, where the pastor even mentioned my old high school back in Texas). Even my devotional yesterday morning was another much-needed reminder:

     “…My brothers and sisters, where is our own faith? It seemed almost a novelty in the church when it was stated long ago that Mr. George Mueller walked by faith in regard to temporal things. To feed children by faith in God was looked upon as the belief of a pious freak. We have come to a pretty pass, have we not, when God is not to be trusted about common things. Abraham walked with God about daily life, but nowadays if you meet with a man who walks with God as to his business, trusts God as to every item ad detail of his domestic affairs, persons look at him with a degree of suspicious wonder. They think he has grace in his heart, but they also suspect that he has a bee in his bonnet, or he would not act in that sort of way. Oh, yes, we have a fancied faith, but when it comes to the stern realities of life, where is our faith?

     “My brethren, why are you so full of worldly care? Why are you so anxious, if you have faith in God? Why do you display in worldly things almost as much distrust as worldly men? Whence this fear? This murmuring? This worry? O my savior, if you were to come, we could not defend ourselves for our wretched mistrust, our foolish apprehension, our want of loving reliance upon you. We do not trust you as you ought to be trusted, and if this be the case among those who are such great debtors to your loving faithfulness, where will you find faith on earth?”

     - Charles Spurgeon

     So at the moment, I’m house-sitting in Atlanta and sending out fresh applications all over the place. I’m also finally starting to plug into some churches, including Passion City where I’ve been accepted to volunteer as a camera assistant once August begins. I still have a place to live, money to pay for it, growing relationships, and encouraging interviews here and there.

     Does that mean I’m going about this faith thing perfectly? No. There are times when I’d like nothing better than to curl up on the couch and watch cable from dawn until dusk in the hopes that ignoring my problems will make them go away. Because staying in Atlanta is a little risky, and there are times when I feel unskilled, and there are moments when the task before me seems simply too big. Sometimes I wonder, if I saw a person like me, would I consider their faith a little too crazy, a little too baseless, a little too dependent on providence?

     But then I remember where I’ve been — more specifically, where God managed to take me against all odds (and oftentimes without the right effort from me). I don’t know what he wants me to be doing — it may not even be professional filmmaking — but I know that if I keep praying then it certainly won’t pass me by when the time comes.

     Yes, without God all of my plans would be utterly baseless and hopeless. There would be no reason to keep trying in the face of every rejected application.

     But there is an Author in control of my life, and I know that he’s going to use this part of my story to shape myself and others as well. I’ve seen Him work too many times for me to give up now.

Two Years Hence

     I actually love sharing the story about my grandfather, because it was the first time I ever lost someone really close to me... and as a screenwriter, I can honestly say that if I hadn't experienced it myself, I might not have believed it; it would be almost too cheesy as a story for anyone to believe. The story is so thick with mention of God because I want to give full testimony to what I witnessed and experienced personally.

     And as I look over this story, I realize I started to get pretty poetic, sentimental, and narrative-like... I guess that's because I remember the emotions still, and hope that perhaps sharing mine might bring you a shade of comfort.

     I was working for a mobile summer camp back in 2013, so I was traveling around the country setting up weekly day-camps with kids. On the Sunday before the week of July 4th started, my mother called to tell me that my grandfather (a WWII veteran) had had a stroke while gardening. She was going to Illinois to see him and her mother; both of her parents had always been incredibly healthy for their age, but they also didn't want to live on life support or be in a nursing home, so my grandfather wasn't going to be on any sort of machine to keep his heart and lungs functioning. It took a whole ton of work from my camp director and others, but we were able to arrange for me to fly out on Friday and skip the last day of camp to see him (or at least the family). I was in a daze of shock, and could focus on little else but finishing work early every day, so that I could prepare to have everything done by Friday. I prayed all week that he would stay alive until I got there... and he did.

     I was taken to the hospital as soon as I got into town; he wasn't too coherent, but my mother and some other extended relatives were there. We talked about him and to him and held his hand... we even sang a couple of hymns and I choked up because of how sweet it all was, singing for a dying man. I've never been one for tears, but I certainly was that weekend.

     As we were leaving, my mother told me that dinner was at the house (the same house that he built as an engineer, 50 years ago, and still lived in) with everybody else.

     Everybody else...

     That was when I remembered... there was a family reunion going on! We'd been planning the reunion for two years, and it just happened to be at that house, on that week, during that summer.

     I'd been in such a daze preparing all week, I'd completely forgotten! So not only were a few close family members and friends there to see my grandfather... everyone was. Second cousins, great-nieces, grand-children even from Alaska, not to mention a few great-grandchildren. In fact, late that night my two little sisters were flown in, too, though they (like me) weren't originally going to attend. By Saturday morning, my grandfather had been farewelled by every single one of his children and grandchildren in person.

     That morning was the big reunion luncheon, with a large tent in the front yard. There were games, of course, including a poll of bets on which grandchild would get married next. Many people spoke about our family history, and nearly all of them made mention of my grandfather and his profound influence on their life. He was the pillar of the family, the trunk of a great tree that had the widest branches of any family I've ever heard of. He was a man of great faith, with a discipline and love that had spread his faith to his children and grandchildren and beyond.

     We sang, too... I even ended up singing an impromptu solo of one song, which I'd only just sung for the first time the night before, in the hospital. I didn't cry that time, though a lot of people did... and later when there was another song sung by everybody, I choked up so much I couldn't even sing.

     The last thing to happen was when my uncle got up to give the benediction. He's my grandfather's only son... and he actually doesn't have any biological children: his two sons are adopted. In fact, they're going to be the only two grandchildren to carry on the family surname... but rather than passing on a bloodline, hopefully they're going to be carrying on a legacy of faith instead.

     When my uncle came up, he was holding a piece of paper, and the garden hoe. He said that no one had bothered to pick up the hoe from where it had fallen in the garden seven days ago... but that it was time to do so now. He read a benediction that my grandfather had actually been writing during the previous week, in preparation... and my uncle mixed it with Bible verses about the patriarch Jacob, who was giving final instructions to his own family before he died. I'm pretty sure that there wasn't a dry eye in the place when he finished by reading:

     "And when Jacob had finished commanding his sons, he drew his feet up into the bed and breathed his last, and was gathered to his people."

     After that, festivities began... desserts, mingling, perhaps a ball game or something, I don't remember really. I was spending most of my time around our grandmother, and went into the house to get a band-aid when she scraped her foot. My father, my uncle, an aunt, and I were in the house when the phone rang. I was right at the desk, though I don't remember whether I was the one to pick it up. We could all hear the nurse on the other side, though. She said my grandfather had passed, sometime within the past twenty minutes or less though they weren't sure exactly. But I think I know exactly when it happened.

     We drifted out of the house, slowly. I passed my mother... I think she saw a hint in my eyes that told her something was amiss, but I let Dad tell her, and saw her face as she curled into his arms for comfort. I was heading for my grandmother, though. My uncle told her, and many of us were waiting to embrace her as he did. She didn't cry too hard -- she was too strong-willed to get emotional in public, I think -- but the hugs were tight. The word spread like a silent wildfire through the crowd of people, and they all came.

     Slowly, without planning or rehearsal, a circle formed in the yard... young and old joined it until we ran around the perimeter of the front property, everyone there with my grandfather's blood in their veins or his imprint left on their life... and we started to sing. It was the Doxology: "Praise God from whom all blessings flow, praise him all creatures here below... praise him above, ye heavenly host... praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen."

     It's not a very long song, but it was long enough for me to choke by the end because of how beautiful it all was... like we were singing him to Heaven. Far from feeling like a tragedy, the entire experience struck me as the incredible happy ending to a story that I was privileged to be a part of. There were other incredible moments that were woven into that week, and everyone who was there remembers different key pieces of the patchwork quilt. For example, the very last meal that my grandfather had, a certain type of sandwich, was also the very first meal that my grandmother had ever made for him (and apparently those sandwiches helped spark the idea in his head that he should marry her). The sermon that their pastor had given on the morning of his stroke was about Psalm 23: specifically the verse, "[The LORD] helps me lie down in green pastures." And on it goes.

      The funny thing is, all of those sappy, existential, un-specifically spiritual movies that talk about death suddenly made a tiny bit more sense to me. All of those remarks like, "The ones who love us never really leave us," had always been ignored by me because they felt like a secular world's attempt to feel enlightened... but I suddenly knew there was a grain of truth deep inside it somewhere.

     I've always kept a firm grip on emotions; I know that they can change and interfere with both life decisions and spiritual decisions. Feelings come and go... the lack of them doesn't make something any less real. So yes, I had firmly believed that my grandfather would go to Heaven -- long before that day even came... but I hadn't expected to feel it, too. And I still do feel it. Not as if he's not far away in his house where I'll only see him now and then... but as if he's always around wherever I am, or wherever anyone in our family is: hanging about in the next room with a deck of cards to play spades with, or reading his old Bible. He's young, and not aching or hurting anymore. He's not interacting with the present goings-on, but he's always watching and always smiling.

     I think someone asked me, either on the way to the airport or once I got back to my team of camp counselors, if I felt any peace. I told them I couldn't feel more at peace. Because it doesn't feel like my grandfather's gone. He's much more alive than he ever was in all the years that I knew him.

On the Bible, Homosexuality, and Searching for Answers

          For what it’s worth, this isn’t some sort of attempt to stir up trouble or incite yet another vicious internet controversy; I’ve never actually enjoyed conflict, least of all the kind that never actually reaches any sort of verdict. I may have a lot of fun with casual debates, but I don’t gain pleasure from stirring up tempers because anger doesn’t really ever solve anything. Battles and attacks can win some wars, but negotiations can diffuse them, too… often with much less collateral damage or lingering grudges.

          There have been several instances in my life where I have hurt others or been hurt by them, often by accident — and nine times out of ten, there was no better solution than to calm down for twenty-four hours, then go back to the offender in private and calmly explain to them how we felt. Talking out the matter in patient humility rather than through anger made the both of us feel better, without either of us being publicly humiliated or creating even more trouble — or even being forced into changing our opinions. With that being said, the Presbyterian Church of the United States of America has made multiple public decisions to allow homosexual marriage in its churches, and therefore a public response is appropriate.

          Their point of view has been made known to all, and therefore it’s in the interest of fairness that an opposing opinion be explained out in the open as well. After hearing years' worth of ugly, profitless arguments about the issue of homosexuality in the church, I realized I have never actually heard a sermon or read an article on the subject that I could really agree with in full: and that's why I'm writing this.

          I’m not the first person to struggle over the matter of what Christians ought to think about homosexuality, and I’m certainly not the last — nor am I finished hunting for the truth myself. But to those who are at least open to hearing a rebuttal, and to those who want to know why some divisions of our faith are so confused by this issue, hopefully my explanation of my own discoveries will aid you in your personal search. The P.C.U.S.A. isn't the first religious group to declare an official stance on homosexuality —  even my alma mater, Asbury University, has received their fair share of debates for their own choices about the matter. Because while the public may hear an organization's brief statement about their final decision, what they don't get to hear is the actual reasoning behind said decision;  the long and arduous struggle that has been weeks, months, perhaps even years in the making.

          Now I don’t pretend to have any answers about secular, legal, or governmental solutions on the matter; and this isn’t an attempt to explain my religious opinion to people who don’t believe in God and want the majority of my arguments to be based on something besides ancient holy texts; but as a believer in the Bible and as a child soaked in the world of the church since I was born*, I do have something to say to an organization that is striving to obey the same God that I am.

          * I'm not claiming that being born into a family of faith somehow makes me a Christian; I personally came to grips with God and chose to serve Him when I was eleven. But long before that major turning point in my life, I was taught much foundational knowledge of the Bible at a young age, and that intense study has continued up to the present.

          It’s not hard to understand why present-day Christians are uneasy forming a solid opinion about homosexuality. After all, our religion is often split into two whenever a major ethics debate arises in the world. Whenever equality is demanded for other religions, genders, or races, a new division of Christians fights back and declares the victims somehow unholy in the sight of God.

          Now that equality is being demanded for homosexuals, they’re taking the spotlight as the new mistreated minority that must be liberated. Nobody wants to be on the wrong side of a conflict like that. We all want to make a positive difference in the lives of others, and we don’t want to end up looking like the stubborn bigots who are sticking with primeval opinions simply because they’re what we were raised to believe. That’s why I have been combing the pages of my Bible, year after year for nearly a decade, to see if there’s something I’ve missed on this specific matter: to see if there’s some way for those ancient words of God to still make sense in the face of this latest controversy. Because gender and racial equality are not equal to sexuality; people are inherently born with a certain skin color and a certain gender. But sexuality is chosen by us, not bred into us.

          So to some of you, my conclusion may be a relief: a surprising middle ground between a desire to seek God and a desire to make peace with others. You may have already figured out this solution for yourself. But to some (perhaps most) of you, my results may not seem like much of a help at all… because the bottom line is, they’re not going to make this problem go away.

1. The Old Testament

          The first argument by many Christians is that homosexuality is forbidden only in the Old Testament, as part of the now-void Law that Moses was given by God in Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy (this is the same set of laws that also monitored what the Israelites ate and drank and how they dressed). First of all, part of that statement is false, because homosexuality is mentioned in the New Testament — but we’ll get to that in the next section.

          According to this argument made by many Christians, the new covenant of Christ made the Law of Moses void: “For when there is a change in the priesthood, there is necessarily a change in the law as well… On the one hand, a former commandment is set aside because of its weakness and uselessness (for the law made nothing perfect); but on the other hand, a better hope is introduced, through which we draw near to God,” (Hebrews 7:12, 18-19). “Therefore [Jesus] is the mediator of a new covenant,” (Hebrews 9:15). If that’s the case, then it is argued that we needn’t condemn homosexuality any more than we need condemn those who eat bacon.

          Certainly, there are sections of the law of Moses that seem strange now: but we need to take a moment to understand their context before we dismiss them altogether. The purpose of those laws was to preserve the nation of Israel (an abruptly-freed nation of slaves who had no idea how to govern themselves) in the midst of an ancient, contaminated, and morally-depraved world. There was no plumbing, there were no building inspectors, there was no knowledge about how meat spoils. Other cultures would scoop roadkill off the road for dinner, engage in orgies with immediate family, and burn human sacrifices to make the land more fertile — because there was no one to teach them not to.

          So first of all, there was no sense in God trying to explain the concept of “germs” or “psychological health,” to the Israelites, any more than you can explain such things to a pack of wild kindergarteners. So he sat them down and gave them an intense list of hygienic and behavioral rules, “just because He said so.” Shellfish carry parasites and are among the more common foods to incite allergic reactions; scavenging birds carry pests; rabbits carry tularemia; and hogs carried trichinosis, because they wallowed in their own filth. Molds and fungi had to be exterminated, sicknesses had to be quarantined, and legal order had to be created. If you read through the laws of Moses for yourself, you might be surprised to find that the majority of these laws make sense if you just look a little deeper.

          Second of all, even if you’re just looking into the science of the matter, the studies that claim a pregnant mother's female hormones will affect her child's sexuality are incomplete at best; they attempt to explain why some males are 'born to be more effeminate' than others, but they also cannot account for the reverse, when a female adopts more masculine features in order to be bisexual or homosexual. Sexuality isn't something determined from birth, because children aren't born with sexual desires: they develop them at puberty. They're taught about sexuality because it isn't something that everybody naturally knows about (or thinks is appealing when they first learn it). Furthermore, bodies have specific organs designed for specific purposes, and certain types of sex (including but certainly not limited to homosexuality) aren’t physically or mentally healthy. And sure enough, the particular chapter of Moses’ law (Leviticus 18) that condemns homosexuality also condemns other twisted sexual sins — not just for hygiene’s sake, but also to protect the psychological health of the people (which is why, for decency's sake, I won't quote the entire chapter in detail here). They had to be told not to sleep with parents, step-parents, offspring, the spouses of one’s offspring, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, grandparents, grandchildren, brothers and sisters in-law, and more.

          Even if the other surrounding chapters could possibly be considered “out-dated,” this is one section of the Law with sexual practices that most atheist Americans wouldn’t even want to think about promoting. And it’s important to note that out of these many colorful relationships, a select two were written with special emphasis: homosexuality and bestiality were labeled as perverse abominations in verses 22-23. If we start to claim that any one thing from this section is exempt from condemnation, where are we going to draw the line before things like incest and worse are invited back into the church?

2. The New Testament

          As mentioned above, many Christians think that homosexuality is only an Old-Testament subject — but that is incorrect. Homosexuality is actually discussed multiple times in the New Testament, and it may behoove readers to once again look at the context under which it is being written. It is grouped always with other sins, such as greed, slander, murder, swindling, envy, maliciousness, and others. Furthermore, it is often categorized as one of many kinds of “sexual immorality”: a blanket term that is used throughout the New Testament, which still points to the original law of Moses for guidance. Though most of the law of Moses was considered void by the new covenant in Christ, sexual deviance was the one sin that all the apostles and saints agreed to keep banned — without any need to debate.

          “For although [men] knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man and birds and animals and reptiles.

          “Therefore God gave them up in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, to the dishonoring of their bodies among themselves… God gave them up to dishonorable passions. For their women exchanged natural relations for those that are contrary to nature, and the men likewise gave up natural relations with women and were consumed with passion for one another, men committing shameless acts with men and receiving in themselves the due penalty for their error.

          “And since they did not see fit to acknowledge God, God gave them up to a debased mind to do what ought not be done. They were filled with all manner of unrighteous evil, covetousness, malice. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, maliciousness. They are gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, foolish, faithless, heartless, ruthless. Though they know God’s decree that those who practice such things deserve to die, they not only do them but give approval to those who practice them,” (Romans 1:2124,26-32).

          “…the law is not laid down for the just but for the lawless and disobedient, for the ungodly and sinners, for the unholy and profane, for those who strike their fathers and mothers, for murderers, the sexually immoral, men who practice homosexuality, enslavers, liars, perjurers, and whatever else is contrary to sound doctrine…” (1 Timothy 1:9-10)

          “But sexual immorality and all impurity or covetousness must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints… For you may be sure of this, that everyone who is sexually immoral or impure or who is covetous (that is, an idolater) has no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God. Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of these things the wrath of God comes upon the sons of disobedience,” (Ephesians 5:1, 5-6).

          “It is actually reported that there is sexual immorality among you… and you are arrogant! Ought you not rather to mourn? Let him who has done this be removed from among you… I wrote to you in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral people — not at all meaning the sexually immoral of this world, or the greedy and swindlers or idolaters, since then you would need to go out of the world. But now I am writing to you not to associate with anyone who bears the name of brother if he is guilty of sexual immorality or greed, or is an idolater, reviler, drunkard, or swindler — not even to eat with such a one. For what have I to do with judging outsiders? Is it not those inside the church whom you are to judge? God judges those outside. ‘Purge the evil person from among you’,” (1 Corinthians 5:1-2, 9-12).

          “Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived; neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of God,” (1 Corinthians 6:9-11).

          But just because homosexuality is clearly labeled as a sin does not justify the hatred that church-goers often display towards those who struggle with it. Organizations that hurl abuses at homosexuals are not serving God nor casting a negative light on anyone but themselves and their beliefs. “If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen,” (1 John 4:20).

          There are other sins in those passages, too — like theft and lying and abuse and neglect. Homosexuality isn’t the only sin that’s lurking in the lives of believers; we have more than our fair share of porn addicts, drunks, and cheats. Everybody’s messed up. “No one is righteous, no, not one,” (Romans 3:10). We all have our own struggles and shortcomings, some merely emotional and others more physical. Struggling with any of these issues doesn’t make you an enemy of God, or unwelcome in His house: the trouble comes when you claim that you’re not sinning at all.

          “They have become callous and have given themselves up to sensuality, greedy to practice every kind of impurity. But that is not the way you learned Christ!— assuming that you have heard about him and were taught in him, as the truth is in Jesus, to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness,” (Ephesians 4:19-24).

          As explained by Jesus in Matthew 18:15-17: “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone… but if he does not listen, take one or two others along with you… if he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church. And if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.” 

          Back then, Gentiles (meaning foreigners and pagans) and tax collectors were still welcome to listen to the teachings of Christians and probably even enter their places of worship (if they had any). But they were not considered trusted teachers, and they weren’t given the rights of congregational members — because they weren’t displaying any belief in God: just curiosity about Him. Sinners who aren’t making an effort to escape their own sins and seek God out should still be ministered to, but they can’t claim to be justified in their actions.

          “If anyone does not obey what we say in this letter, take note of that person, and have nothing to do with him, that he may be ashamed. Do not regard him as an enemy, but warn him as a brother,” (2 Thessalonians 3:14-15).

          Whether someone’s struggling with sexual desires or substance addictions, they need guidance and love from others so that they can escape and live a healthier life. A man who struggles with porn shouldn’t lead a congregation, and neither should someone who struggles with homosexuality. But that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t come to church at all: on the contrary, the church should be their safehouse and their rehab facility.

          They need security and support in order to recover. And they can recover, with God’s help.

          “The body is not meant for sexual immorality, but for the Lord… Flee from sexual immorality. Every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body. Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body,” (1 Corinthians 6: 13b, 18-20).

          “Since we have these promises, beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from every defilement of body and spirit, bringing holiness to completion in the fear of God,” (2 Corinthians 7:1).

          “For Godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret,” (2 Corinthians 7:10).

          “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come… Christ in God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation,” (2 Corinthians 5:17,19).

          “For at one time you were darkness, but now you are a light in the Lord. Walk as children of light… and try to discern what is pleasing to the Lord,” (Ephesians 5:8,10).

          So in the end, if you would really like a single clear-cut answer from me, then yes: the Bible does say that homosexuality is a sin. There’s no getting around that fact.

          But we shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that Jesus still loved sinners, even though He never condoned their actions. He approached them and ministered to them to help them change, and to let them know that they weren’t alone in their struggles. Their worth was not determined by anything or anyone but God, and God wanted the best for them. Whether they were swindlers or thieves or beggars or addicts or adulterers, He called them His children — and called them to leave their lives of sin behind for something better.

          So I’ll admit, it’s not fun being on this side of the controversy… if my particular perspective could even be considered a “side,” at this juncture. I’ve had countless close friends who have struggled (and in some cases, still do) with various sexual desires that are contrary to scripture. But that doesn’t stop me from loving every minute I’m around them; they’re incredibly loving and fun human beings no matter what their inner conflicts are.


          Some of them have stopped fighting the spiritual battle and have given in to their body’s desires… but others of them are still pleading with God and doing their best to obey him no matter the turmoil — and their honesty about it is why I trust them and love them even more.

          Part of the trouble with swallowing the Bible’s statements on homosexuality is is the fact that, up until the present in history, God’s moral teachings and man’s moral teachings have more or less been aligned with one another. But now, ever since the start of the sexual revolution half a century ago, it seems that God may actually have rules against what most of our society is doing. Nobody wants a God with rules; rules are exclusive and difficult to follow. But if you have ever been a parent, teacher, counselor, even a babysitter, then you know: rules aren’t an end in and of themselves, but they keep children safe even if the children aren’t yet old enough to understand discipline’s value. Rules are loving.

          Rarely in the Bible is God ever called a noun. He is called many adjectives, but he is only called a select few nouns: less than can be counted on one hand.  In the New Testament, the two major titles He is known by are “The Word,” and “Love” itself.

          The first title “The Word” is repeated through chapter 1 of the gospel of John in reference to Jesus, and in Greek the manuscript uses the term Logos: the basis for which we have our word ‘logic,’ meaning truth and reason. “God is true,” (John 3:33b) and, “anyone who does not know love does not know God, because God is love,” (1 John 4:8). That means He wants us to be free, but He also wants us to be free only in the best way. Kids running around a busy highway may be free, but they’re also endangering themselves. 

          Love is sacrificial and giving and kind… but Love must also be stern, on unfortunate occasions. Love must discipline its loved ones to promote understanding and eventual happiness. A truly loving parent will not simply stand back and give their consent when their child runs away and tries to join the household of a drug addict.

          “For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.

          “Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet… Strive for peace with everyone and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no ‘root of bitterness’ springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled; that no one is sexually immoral,” (Hebrews 12: 11-16).

          God made a lot of laws for His people to follow, and He summed them up multiple times in a brief pair of rules that often got far-too overlooked: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And the second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” (Matthew 22:37-39). So yes, we ought to “strive for peace with everyone,” (Hebrews 12:14), but if we find ourselves stuck between the opinions of people and the statements of God, we ought to trust in the one Being that is the entire embodiment of love.

          “For it is not the one who commends himself who is approved, but the one whom the Lord commends,” (2 Corinthians 9:18).

          We may not always understand His rules, and whether you struggle with His scriptures on homosexuality or on some other matter, it is still worth the risk to obey now and find the answers in time. After all, God has been right about so many other moral matters: doesn't He deserve a little faith on the confusing ones?

          “I think He made one law of that kind in order that there might be obedience. In all these other matters what you call obeying Him is but doing what seems good in your eyes also. Is love content with that? You do them, indeed, because they are His will, but not only because they are His will. Where can you taste the joy of obeying unless He bids you do something for which His bidding is the only reason?” 
 — C.S. Lewis, Perelandra

          Part of having faith is the need to make your own personal decisions regardless of tradition, but you do need to remember that tradition is the map that has been drawn out by countless other seekers who have delved deeper and searched harder than you have yet to do.

          “I remember once when I had been giving a talk to the R.A.F., an old, hard-bitten officer got up and said, ‘I’ve no use for all that stuff. But, mind you, I'm a religious man too. I know there's a God. I've felt Him out alone in the desert at night: the tremendous mystery. And that's just why I don't believe all your neat little dogmas and formulas about Him. To anyone who's met the real thing they all seem so petty and pedantic and unreal!’

          “Now in a sense I quite agreed with that man. I think he had probably had a real experience of God in the desert. And when he turned from that experience to the Christian creeds, I think he really was turning from something real to something less real. In the same way, if a man has once looked at the Atlantic from the beach, and then goes and looks at a map of the Atlantic, he also will be turning from something real to something less real: turning from real waves to a bit of coloured paper. But here comes the point. The map is admittedly only coloured paper, but there are two things you have to remember about it. In the first place, it is based on what hundreds and thousands of people have found out by sailing the real Atlantic. In that way it has behind it masses of experience just as real as the one you could have from the beach; only, while yours would be a single glimpse, the map fits all those different experiences together. In the second place, if you want to go anywhere, the map is absolutely necessary. As long as you are content with walks on the beach, your own glimpses are far more fun than looking at a map. But the map is going to be more use than walks on the beach if you want to get to America.”

          (C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity)

          So yes, maybe I need to take a page from that book and respect the PC-USA’s decision. After all, the members of the PC-USA are much older than me, and likely much more educated. But I have been raised to learn the scriptures themselves — and I’ve spent over twenty years doing so, even if I never went to seminary or took more than three theology and philosophy courses. Not only that, but the hundreds of generations who studied the Bible before me were all in agreement over this matter up until the past few decades: it was secular opinion that started to change, and not us.

          So I don’t expect everyone to take my word as law on this matter, nor should they. But neither should they rely solely on the PC-USA for answers, either — especially since the denomination is only keeping many of its pastors from leaving by threatening to take away their property and retirement funds if they should do so. That means long-established churches with over a century of history could be evicted from the very buildings where they were founded — and families that have served God faithfully for decades would suddenly receive nothing in return for their hardships. It’s an unfair struggle, to be sure… but even Jesus himself didn’t receive a fair trial. Those of us in the church were never promised a journey without obstacles, and this is certainly a massive one. The PC-USA is trying to cover up the main issue — the theological debate on homosexuality — by producing a financial one to tie down their pastors instead… and they are wrong to do so.

          "A certain number of servants meet in the servants' hall; they have an order given to do such work, and they have also orders given them how to do it. They then consult with each other as to the minor details, how they can best observe the master's rule and do his bidding. They are perfectly right in so doing. But suppose they began to consult about whether the objects proposed by the master were good, or whether the rules he had laid down might not be altered! They would at once become rebellious and be in danger of discharge. So a church met together to consult how to carry out the Master's will, how to enforce his laws, does rightly; but a church meeting to make new laws, or a church meeting to rule according to its own judgement and opinion, imagining that its decision will have weight, has made a mistake and placed itself in a false position."
          (Charles Spurgeon)

          "Consider what you do, for you judge not for man but for the Lord. He is with you in giving judgement. Now then, let the fear of the Lord be upon you. Be careful what you do, for there is no injustice with the Lord our God," (2 Chronicles 19:6-7).

          The church is at a turning point in history yet again. Even without the bureaucratic entanglements thrown in by the PC-USA’s warning to its pastors, the actual debate on homosexuality is not an easy one if people are not willing to search hard and pray even harder.

          I don’t pretend to know all the answers for everyone stuck in this mess, but I do know a lot more than I did ten years ago, because I didn’t for one second believe that God could somehow be wrong in the face of man. So if you really want to find out the God’s truth, you need to be seeking it for yourself.