"Who's in Charge?" - Thoughts on Gender Roles and Genesis 3

I once had a conversation with a fellow pastor and we somehow ended up talking about gender roles in marriage. I was advocating for a more “everybody-is-equal” point-of-view, and he was telling me how weak I am for holding that opinion. “The man is supposed to lead and be in charge,” he said. And so he challenged me: “So in your marriage, who’s in charge?”

“Why does anyone need to be in charge?” I asked. “Isn’t the idea of marriage that you’re supposed to be partners?”

“Well, sure,” he said. “But if you have to make a big decision, and the two of you can’t come to an agreement, who gets the final say?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t mean to sound naïve, but I’d like to think we’d keep working through the issue until we find a compromise.”

“But what if you can’t come to a compromise?” the other pastor said. “What would you do then?”

“I have no idea,” I said. “I can’t imagine what kind of scenario would call for that. Are we talking about diffusing a bomb or something?”

He wouldn’t let up.

I know what he wanted me to say. He wanted me to concede to his assertion that ultimately the man rules the household and that any perceived power held by the wife is merely an illusion.

There is a Bible verse that people sometimes use to propel this point-of-view. In Genesis 3, humanity has deviated from its original path and has chosen a more destructive way of life. At a certain point in the story, God enters the dialogue and speaks to humanity. In verse 16, this God says to the woman in the story:

“Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.”

And so for thousands of years, people have taken this verse and said, “You see? The man is supposed to rule over the woman. Even God says so!”

Here’s the problem with that method of thinking: Genesis 3:16 is a curse. It appears in a string of passages in which God is making observations about what a broken world will look like. This is a lament over what has been lost in the process of eating the wrong fruit and choosing the wrong path.

In other words, Genesis 3:16 is not God saying, “Now go and do this.” Instead, the verse is essentially God saying, “Don’t you see what you’ve done?”

It is a curse.

It is a lament.

It is a description of a broken reality.

The first two chapters of Genesis describe a state of reality that is good and whole—the way things were meant to be. The third chapter of Genesis describes what happens when all of that goodness and wholeness falls apart.

Hebrew scholar Nahum Sarna says it this way:

“It is quite clear from the description of woman in [Genesis 2] that the ideal situation… was absolute equality of the sexes. The new state of male dominance is an aspect of the deterioration in the human condition” (JPS Torah Commentary, Genesis).

What’s being described in Genesis 3:16 is what happens when we choose a broken path. God is saying, “For the rest of time, there will be women who struggle with their own sense of identity because they will define themselves by their relationships. They will find their worth in how other people interact with them. And then there will be men who will exploit that and leverage all kinds of power and manipulation over these women.”

So thank goodness things have changed so much.

It’s not insignificant that the passage that immediately follows verse 16 talks about how the man will work tirelessly by the sweat of his brow and he will thanklessly labor until he dies.

I work in an air conditioned room in which I almost never break a sweat, and I really love what I do. So are my lack of sweat and feeling of fulfillment signs that I am being disobedient to God? Should we shame men who love their jobs because Genesis 3:19 says that we will toil and struggle all the days of our lives?

When we find circumstances in the world around us that contradict what we see in Genesis 3:16-19, we should celebrate it. This means we have somehow—in a very small way—transcended the curse. We have found something good and beautiful in the midst of the chaos. If you find a person who loves his job or a marriage based on mutual respect and submission, you are witnessing someone who has overcome something dark and has reclaimed something beautiful about reality.

So here’s what we need to do: We need to stop treating Genesis 3:16 like a “life verse.”  Stop citing this passage as the way things were meant to be, because it isn’t. We were created for something better than that.

Our role in the world is to reclaim the goodness and beauty that was originally created, not to wallow in the brokenness and claim it as God’s will.

So who’s in charge in our marriage? Neither of us. We submit to one another, because that’s the reality we were created to live within.

Broken Windows and Beautiful Weddings

Someone broke into my wife’s car last week.

We were attending our good friends’ wedding. It was a chilly Saturday night, and my wife and I were dressed up and out of the house without kids for the first time in a long while. Our babysitter didn’t care how late we might stay out, and we planned to take full advantage of that. Before the wedding, we had a delicious meal at one of our favorite restaurants. Later at the wedding, we enjoyed the company of good friends; we even danced a little. It was a wonderful evening.

And then, after the wedding was over and the bride and groom had made their celebratory exit, we returned to the car. As I pressed the button to unlock the door, I noticed lots of shattered glass on the ground. My first thought was that someone had dropped a beer bottle, but then I realized that the car’s back window was gone. I opened the door, and even more pieces of glass fell to the ground. It took only a few seconds to realize that my wife’s purse—along with her wallet, credit cards, and driver’s license—was gone. We had been robbed.

We flagged down a police officer and filed a report, trying to mentally process the violation that had occurred. My wife shivered in the cold, feeling hurt and despair; I was on the phone cancelling her credit cards, feeling frustration and anger. Every time I shifted my feet, I heard the scratching of thousands of tiny pieces of glass crunching beneath my shoes. The sound itself made me feel even angrier.

The next morning—as I continued to process what had happened and attempted to find someone willing to fix a broken window on a Sunday—I had a thought: We live in this kind of tension every day.

We live in the tension between celebration and tragedy.

At the wedding, we had been laughing and dancing and sharing stories and enjoying life with our friends. We watched two people who love each other enter this beautiful, sacred bond of marriage. If you can’t find joy at a wedding, where else can you possibly find it?

Then, only two hours later—twenty feet away from where the wedding had taken place—we were filing a police report, canceling credit cards, standing in a puddle of broken glass.

This is the tension of human life. We are always right around the corner from a potential moment of joy or a potential moment of sorrow.

In Genesis 3—immediately after humanity makes a tragic choice and God is explaining the consequences of this choice—God says to the woman in the story:

“I will make your pains in childbearing very severe; with painful labor you will give birth to children.” (Genesis 3:16)

Of course, on one hand this is literal: childbirth is physically painful (or so it has been explained to me). However, on the other hand, there is a symbolic meaning to this as well. God is saying to the woman, Even your moments of greatest joy will be accompanied by great pain.

This is the burden of men and women who live in a world that has experienced profound brokenness. Our moments of joy will often go hand-in-hand with moments of great pain.

Even in our most celebratory, life-giving moments, there will be something that remains broken—an unfulfilled longing, a pang of sadness, a desire for something just out of reach.

Every time we attend a wedding, there is the possibility of broken glass in the parking lot.

So what do we do about this? Is it really as bleak as it sounds?

Here’s what we are invited to do: Live fully within each of the moments.

In moments of joy, revel in the joy. Breathe deeply, take it all in. Be grateful that you have a reason to celebrate—that your heart beats and your life marches on.

In moments of pain, do not shy away from feeling what you feel. Own the pain, and name the sorrow.

It should also be said that in moments of pain we often discover the strength of our friendships. As we stood in the parking lot on that cold night filing a police report, our good friends Brian and Chandra stood with us, providing comfort and solidarity. In the past few months, I have experienced several of these kinds of moments, and I have never felt as if I were standing alone in the cold. Caroline and I have amazing friends, and we knew that long before our car was burglarized.

I wish I lived in a world where cars didn’t get broken into and people were always kind to one another.

But I don’t.

So the best I can do is contribute to the good and acknowledge the bad. I can celebrate with others as they get married, have babies, receive promotions at work, and find love in their lives.

I can also stand in the cold with others as they endure the pain that life sometimes brings—I can be the kind of friend that reminds other people that they are not alone.

So in joy and in sorrow, may we celebrate our own humanity, and may we be the kinds of people who respond to all situations in ways that will make the world a better place.

What do you think? Has it been your experience that there are appropriate ways to respond to both good and bad circumstances in life?

A Remodeled House, The Munsters, and the Human Spirit

There is a house in Waxahachie, Texas that has been remodeled to be an exact replica of the house from the TV show The Munsters. The house is complete with a grand staircase that opens up, a rotating suit of armor, trap doors, and every other detail that made the Munster house unique.

It’s not a museum or anything; a family lives there.

So why did this family—the McKees—remodel their house to perfectly resemble a set from an old TV show?

Because they love The Munsters.

They spent what must have been a lot of money and a lot of time in order to make their home look exactly like the set from a TV show that they love.

This seems ridiculous—insane, even.

But there is something beautifully human about this. What do we do when we love something or have something in our pasts that left a special mark on our hearts? We memorialize it—we create a way to remember something that we never want to forget.

We erect a statue. We hang pictures on the wall. Sometimes (very rarely) we even remodel our homes to look like the set of an old TV show.

The need to memorialize is a very human impulse.

In the book of Genesis, we meet a man named Jacob. During a very low point in his life, Jacob is fleeing from his brother and stops to sleep for the night. While he is camped out, he has a life-changing encounter with God (Genesis 28).

Years later, Jacob returns to the spot where he had camped so long ago. When he arrives at the spot where he had once encountered God, the text tells us this-

Jacob and all the people with him came to Luz (that is, Bethel) in the land of Canaan.  There he built an altar, and he called the place El Bethel, because it was there that God revealed himself to him when he was fleeing from his brother. (Genesis 35:6-7)

When Jacob returns to this spot, he builds an altar—a physical reminder of his encounter.

Jacob is saying, “I never want to forget what happened here.”

In the history of our faith, we have established several physical reminders of those things that we are never meant to forget.

Baptism reminds us that we are part of the new humanity—that we are participating in the resurrection of Christ in the world.

Communion—taking the bread and the wine—reminds us that we are recipients of an impossibly beautiful gift and that we are all brothers and sisters when we gather together around the table.

We create beautiful art because it points back to something that could never be expressed with mere words.

Jacob’s altar is a way of saying, Something meaningful happened, and it must be remembered.

The Munster House in Waxahachie exists because the human spirit cannot deny its own journey. We are hardwired to remember—to memorialize the past as a way of embracing who we are becoming.

As we look back with gratitude, may we embrace the story that God has placed us in.

May we remember that which must never be forgotten.

What are some things in your own life that help you remember your own experiences and journey? Do you think the act of remembering is important in our attempts to become better people in the world?

The Ballad of Lamech - Thoughts on Genesis 4:23-24

M.C. Hammer was pretty full of himself back when he was famous. Not only did he believe himself to be too legit (assuming that "legit" was something to be aspired to) to quit, he also famously believed that there was some elusive "this" that he uniquely possessed that you (the collective "you," that is) absolutely could not touch. In fact, take a look at a portion of the lyrics from M.C. Hammer's aforementioned breakout single, "U Can't Touch This"-

It feels good, when you know you're down
A super dope homeboy from the Oak town
And I'm known as such
And this is a beat, uh, you can't touch

In the song, he goes on to infer that his music is so good that it can make people sweat, presumably from dancing so much. Yes, M.C. Hammer was quite the boastful songwriter indeed.

I'm not trying to be unfair to M.C. Hammer. He's not the only musician who has made his bones by writing songs about how great he is. In fact, one of the oldest poems in the Hebrew Bible (the Old Testament) is written and performed by a guy who simply can't get over himself.

Lamech, the great-great-great grandson of Cain (the guy who killed his brother, Abel), is the first person in the Old Testament to stumble upon the idea of polygamy. The writer of the book of Genesis makes note of this, introducing us to Lamech by explaining, "Lamech married two women, one named Adah and the other Zillah" (Gen. 4:19). Like I said, this is the first time one guy allowed himself two wives, so I suppose we can assume that Lamech loved the ladies.

However, what ends up being noteworthy about Lamech is not the fact that he seems to have invented polygamy. No, what is interesting is the method by which he shows off to his little harem. After a sentence or two establishing Lamech's place in the world, the narrator turns it over to the man himself for a little bit of poetry. I'll let Lamech take it from here-

Lamech said to his wives,
“Adah and Zillah, listen to me;
wives of Lamech, hear my words.
I have killed a man for wounding me,
a young man for injuring me.
If Cain is avenged seven times,
then Lamech seventy-seven times” (Genesis 4:23-24)

Lamech was the original M.C. Hammer. He killed a guy for "wounding" him, and we really don't even know what that means. Did this young guy punch Lamech in the face (because somebody needed to)? Did the young guy steal something from Lamech? Did he insult Lamech in some way, perhaps by defeating him in a dance-off? Nobody knows. All we know is that some young punk "wounded" Lamech, and Lamech took the guy out. And now, he's singing a song to his women, talking about how great he is.

(Please don't misunderstand my comparison to M.C. Hammer. I am not insinuating that Hammer ever killed anyone. I am simply pointing out that he -- like Lamech -- enjoyed singing songs about his own self-described greatness.)

There are a couple of things that are noteworthy about this story. First, Lamech is a blood relative of Cain, who famously was the first murderer in Scripture. Cain's murder victim was not some nameless young man; it was his brother, Abel. After Cain kills Abel, God confronts Cain, saying to him, “What have you done? Listen! Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground" (Genesis 4:10). In other words, "This person you have killed was just that -- a person. You not only have ended his life, but you have ended all of the lives that might have come after him ("blood cries out")." So, the Lamech narrative reminds us that things are not getting better; in fact, they are getting worse. Not only is Lamech's murder victim unnamed, Lamech is proud of what he has done. At least Cain attempts to hide the fact that he has committed murder (Genesis 4:9). Not only does Lamech not feel shame, he writes a song about it.

The second thing that is noteworthy about this story is this: Whatever the young man had done to wound Lamech, the response was disproportionate.

This is the problem with revenge; it often goes far beyond the original crime. In the book of Exodus, the people of Israel famously are told, "eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot" (Exodus 21:24). At face value, this is often take to mean, "If someone does something to you, it is your obligation to take revenge against them." At first glance, it seems a bit brutal.

However, the real meaning of "eye for eye" is not to give people a license to take revenge. In contrast, it was meant to restrict personal vengeance. Before this commandment was given, people felt justified in taking whatever revenge they wanted to take. If someone punched you in the face, you could burn his house down. If someone stole something from you, you could murder his whole family. If someone "wounded" you, you could kill that person and write a song about it. "Eye for an eye" pulls back the reigns and says, "Do not get carried away in your pursuit of justice."

Jesus takes it to the next level. When Jesus' student, Peter, asks how seriously he needs to take this whole "forgiveness" business, the exchange goes like this:

Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?” 

Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times" (Matthew 18:21-22).

I realize Jesus is using Peter's words to respond, but isn't the language interesting? Remember what Lamech said about his own brand of vengeance? "If Cain is avenged seven times, then Lamech seventy-seven times." Jesus uses Lamech's exact words and reverses the outcome. In one sentence, Jesus puts the story of Lamech right in its place. Even by Old Testament standards, Lamech's act was disproportionate. For Jesus, though, Lamech's ethics were completely upside down.

So, the story of Lamech is about a guy who believes that violence not only is a solution to his problems but that violence makes him sexier to his women. Lamech believes that violence is redemptive and good.

By contrast, Jesus seems to believe that violence gets us nowhere and that forgiveness is the truest act of redemption. For Jesus, violence only destroys. And when we do commit violence -- or exist within a system of violence -- the appropriate response is not to strut and tout our violence as admirable. Rather, the violence around us should be lamented. When blood is spilled, it cries out from the ground. Every act of violence is tragic, and it should be treated as such.

Or, as French theologian and poet Francois Fenelon once said, "All wars are civil wars, because all men are brothers."

When our enemies die in war, we should mourn their spilt blood.

When evil men are killed, that is not a time for rejoicing. It is a time for somber reflection and mourning over a life wasted.

When blood is spilled--even if we feel that it was "just"--it is a tragedy.

If we are to sing songs about bloodshed, may they be songs of sorrow rather than songs of celebration.

Have you ever been on the receiving end of a disproportionate response? Why do we, as a people, believe that violence can be redemptive?