Episode 4: Belonging, Courage, and Evangelical Darlings with Jen Hatmaker

Written By Sarah Bessey

Hosted by Sarah Bessey and Jeff Chu

Jen Hatmaker was the darling of white evangelical Christian women until the price of belonging became too high. In today's episode, we revisit her powerful 2018 talk about courage, belonging, and the four things she learned from exile. Stick around to hear Jeff Chu and Sarah Bessey chat about their own experiences with belonging (or not belonging, as the case may be) and the courage being honest requires of all of us.

If you are just beginning to take steps out and away from everything that once made you feel secure and safe or if you have felt exiled from your faith tradition or community, this episode is for you.

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Show Notes

Jen Hatmaker

You can follow us on Twitter and Instagram. Join our podcast community over on Facebook, The Evolving Faith Podcast After-Party.

You can find Jeff Chu on Instagram and Twitter. You can also subscribe to his newsletter Notes of a Make-Believer Farmer at jeffchu.substack.com.

You can find Sarah Bessey on Instagram and Twitter. You can also subscribe to her newsletter Field Notes at sarahbessey.substack.com. Learn more about her books here.

Special thanks to Audrey Assad and Wes Willison for the music on this episode.

If you’d like to be featured on an upcoming episode, just call our voicemail inbox at +1 (616) 929-0409. Leave your first name and state or province and answer this question: How are you cultivating hope in the wilderness right now? It can be something small - a song, a poem, a practice - or something big. There are no wrong answers. Just please try to keep your answer to under a minute so we can feature a few of you every episode.

 
“Our faith is evolving because Jesus is changing us.”
— Jen Hatmaker

[IMAGE CONTENTS: Six graphics with quotes from the episode. First graphic: Green illustrated flourish with the Evolving Faith logo and a photograph of Jen Hatmaker. Text reads: “Belonging, Courage, and Evangelical Darlings. Episode 4. Now Streaming. with Jen Hatmaker.” Remaining graphics have the same illustration of blue, green, and maroon illustrated dots and a line drawing of an open book with a plant growing out of the pages, all quotes attributed to Jen Hatmaker at The Evolving Faith Podcast Episode 4. Text for the remaining quotes on the graphics are as follows: 2. Protecting the status quo against our own internal convictions is a luxury of the privileged for whom this system is already centering.” 3. “The wilderness is where all the creatives and prophets and system-buckers and risk-takers have always lived. And it is stunningly vibrant.” 4. Our faith is evolving because Jesus is changing us.” 5. You are capable of weathering the storm of spiritual evolution even as it tosses you about a bit. Don’t be afraid.” 6. No matter what falls away, no matter what shifts, no matter what breaks down, no matter what questions you were asking today that you would never have dreamed of asking five years ago, regardless of whether the people say you are in or our now, Jesus remains.” 7. The wineskins have changed thousands of times. But the wine is as good as ever. And it is poured out with immeasurable grace into each new container throughout history.” 8. “Jesus does not subscribe to our hierarchies and our systems. He is good. And he is present to every generation and His mercies endure forever.” ]

Transcript

SARAH: Hi friends, I’m Sarah Bessey.

JEFF: And I'm Jeff Chu. 

SARAH: Welcome back to The Evolving Faith Podcast.

 JEFF: This is a podcast for the wounded, the misfits, and the spiritual refugees to let you know you are not alone in the wilderness. We're all about hope and we are here to point fellow wanderers to God. No matter where you are on your journey, no matter what your story is, you are welcome! We're listening - to God, to one another, and to the world.

SARAH: The story of God is bigger, wider, more inclusive and welcoming, filled with more love, than we could ever imagine. There's room here for everyone. 

JEFF: It’s episode 4, and there's still room here for you.

—

SARAH: Welcome back, friends, to the Evolving Faith Podcast. Today we’ll be hearing from everyone’s imaginary best friend, Jen Hatmaker. Before we get started, though, we did want to remind you of the good news that tickets for Evolving Faith 2020 are now on sale. Our wilderness looks a bit different this year obviously and so we have shifted to a live virtual conference. It’s on October 2 and3 - but you will also have access to all of the content on demand until April 1, 2021 as well. So Jen is going to be there with us, along with so many incredible leaders: Kate Bowler, Barbara Brown Taylor, Dr. Chanequa Walker-Barnes, Sherilyn Ifill—I mean, so many more people. It’s an embarrassment of riches. So go to evolvingfaith.com for more information, the complete speaker lineup, and to register now. 

JEFF: So as we’ve already said, today we’re hearing from Jen Hatmaker. Jen has been a beloved member of the Evolving Faith family from the very beginning. She’s the author of the New York Times bestseller Of Mess and Moxie and eleven other books—and that actually just went up to twelve in April, when her latest, Fierce, Free, and Full of Fire: The Guide to Being Glorious You also hit the New York Times bestseller list. It is available now in every good bookstore near you—please support indie bookstores! Jen has been with us at every Evolving Faith gathering, and we’re so thrilled to bring you excerpts of her talk from the first one two years ago.

SARAH: In addition to being one of my very best friends in the world, Jen is the self-described “happy hostess” of the award-winning podcast For the Love, which both Jeff and I have been on, and she is the “delighted curator” of the Jen Hatmaker Book Club. She and her husband, Brandon, also founded the Legacy Collective, a giving community that has donated millions of dollars to fund sustainable solutions to systemic issues around the world. You may remember that the Hatmakers also starred in the HGTV series My Big Family Renovation. Jen is the mum to five and a proud resident of Austin, Texas; she and her family are deeply committed to helping keep Austin weird. 

But official bio aside, you all need to know that Jen is the real deal. Her sincerity and goodness and strength. She is so effortlessly hilarious and sincerely good. She is the rare creature who is even better behind the scenes and in real life than you could even imagine. Jen has never been someone who settled for the wide and easy path. She’s a good guide and worthy of our trust. We are so lucky to have her.

JEFF: Friends, without further ado, here’s Jen Hatmaker, speaking at the first Evolving Faith gathering, in Montreat, North Carolina. 

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JEN HATMAKER: Look, the reason I never talk about the apocalypse is because I grew up in 80s evangelical subculture, and our youth pastors made us watch Like a Thief in the Night. Right? Did anybody watch that? What in the actual hell? Okay. I'm still scared. That's why. Thank you. You are so beloved in this room, as are you. We're so happy to see you. So let's see. I used to be a darling of white women's evangelical subculture. And it was really fun. It was. It was fun. It was easy. Everybody liked me. And look, I am a, I'm a three on the Enneagram. Being popular is my birthright. Okay? You know what I’m saying? I’m born to it.

But then two years ago this week, I said very publicly that I deeply believed and was convicted and convinced that LGBTQ marriages could absolutely be holy, like Jeff's. And, surprise, I made 10 million enemies overnight. It was less fun. And it was, well, I'll just be honest, it was pretty crushing. I'd like to sugarcoat that, but that would be a lie. And there was a lot of loss, in every imaginable way. And so I guess, to use that old prophetic imagery, Sarah referenced it this morning, too, I was essentially sent outside the city gates and I had to find a whole new world in the wilderness. But here was the struggle. I was very, very deeply versed in the rules of the hierarchies of the city. I know all those. I was literally groomed to succeed there. That is what I was raised in. That is everything I understood. I knew how to get just to the, just to the edge of it, and pull back to maintain my insider status. Right? I worked in that arena. I was the marketable kind of edgy, right? Bless it.

Frankly, the wilderness was a real mystery to me, and I was afraid of it. I didn't understand it. I didn't know what its rules were. I didn't know who lived there. I didn't know if that meant thriving or not thriving. I didn't know if I would be welcomed. And I really had no idea how to behave out there, because behaving is one of my chief skill sets, okay? 

So if if I can just tell you this morning, just four quick things that I have learned in my relocation process. And I'll be honest, it's a bit of a loss-gain scenario. So I will attempt to tell you the truth. 

I know that not everybody in this room has their roots in just sort of traditional or conservative Christian spaces. That's not necessarily your story. So some of these changes that I'm going to speak of, alongside a spiritual evolution, might not be your experience, but it's the only story I have. So it's the one that I'm going to tell you. And so I learned four pretty key things that I would love to give you this morning, in hopes that they may encourage weary hearts and hold out a little morsel of hope, wherever you are. And here's the first one:Some people in your life will leave. But others will show up. It's just true.

And when I think back over the costs, this one felt the highest. This one felt the hardest. 

Frankly, it's, it's… frankly, it's too easy at that point to write “them” off, right? As all backwards or small-minded or judgmental. That is, that's an easy reach. But that position, while protective, certainly, and tempting, has never actually been true in my real life. That is not how it shakes out in the world that I live in. 

During the same time my husband, Brandon, and I have been in full-time ministry to the local church since we got out of college. And we started a church in Austin, where we live, 10 years ago. And alongside this sort of public journey of mine, we walked our church through becoming a fully affirming and welcoming church. And the, the, the human loss built into it was so sad. And so I want to acknowledge for those of you who are losing people, I get the temptation to default, to, sort of, shrug or fury.

But the truth is, we lost a lot of people who are good. And who love Jesus. And who loved us. And we loved them. And frankly, this is a lot more nuanced and complicated than Twitter would have you believe. Right? 

So, if you're in that space, I want to give you—and you don't need our permission—but I symbolically offer you permission to grieve. I appreciate my brother and sisters up here who've used that word several times. Permission to be sad. Permission to feel confused and conflicted and really have some deep sorrow on those losses. But I also if you could hear this for me, I've had enough— I've logged enough days in it now. I also would love to extend a bit of permission to fight for connection. It is possible. It is. I will tell you that there are people impossibly precious to us for whom there erupted an immediate and desperate chasm, and did not know what was going to happen. And I'm telling you that we fought for dear life. We clung to one another. We had very challenging conversations— and lots of them. We sat around the table again and again and again. And for so many of us, we made it. We made it. 

So I want to hold out a little bit of hope that what might seem relationally irredeemable at this moment might just need a little more time. It might need a little more fight. It might need another believer to say, “I'm not willing to let go that easily.” Fight for connection. So you will—you'll lose some people. But you might be shocked at how many folks start showing up.

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JEFF: Sarah, one of the first things I’d like to highlight is what Jen says about things being more complicated and nuanced than they are on Twitter. I know some people might laugh, but it’s true. You and I both write. We’re wordy. So that’s one part of it. But I’m on Twitter too, with a lot of ambivalence, and another very real part of it is that so much of the texture of life cannot be reduced to 280 characters. 

SARAH: Right. That’s really, really true.  I mean, I was an early adopter on Twitter, and I love the medium. But there is that part of this that is really painful, right? I had a front- row seat to this season in Jen's life, and she is being incredibly generous here. Because those 280 characters or all the ways in which we throw stones at each other can be a living hell when you're on the receiving end of it, right? So being turned on by the very ones who once loved you is really painful. And I think a lot of us have, maybe not at the scale that Jen experienced, but in our own, you know, unseen or unacknowledged ways and you know not public ways, we've had similar experiences. This journey of having an evolving faith is costly, right? It's costly to evolve, to change your mind, to grow. There is loss and grief to that. And I think it's particularly difficult to do that well when we are reducing people to caricatures, right? I remember one of the biggest shifts that I experienced during my own long season of you know, deconstruction, all those years ago was the beginnings of forgiveness that Jen talks about here, right? Not only towards the early stages of my face, but even gratitude for it. Gratitude for the ones who even built the edifices I eventually had to tear down. Forgiveness for myself. And like, that's not the plan. Right? It's easier when there's an enemy. But realizing that fighting for connection is worth it. Not always, of course. You need to be wise as serpents innocent as doves, all that stuff. But it is, I think, to acknowledge that it's easy and tempting to turn the ones we once loved into stereotypes or caricatures. And her words here about the complication of it, about how love complicates that, rang really true and yet really difficult at the same time.

JEFF: So I have to ask, what does it mean to allow people still to be in process? And when they are in process, when they're being messy, what's a loving response, if and when you're able to muster one? And I know for me, sometimes the most loving response in a particular moment, whether it's on Twitter or off, is just to walk away, knowing that if I don't, I might do further damage.

SARAH: Well, I mean, I'm not above bursting into flames on Twitter every now and again. But it does take wisdom, I think, to discern and enforce good boundaries too, right? Even as you're fighting for connection that there is— part of that fight can sometimes be the grace and the permission to allow people to be where they are away from you. Even as you walk fully out into your freedom and your renewal. I think especially when you're in situations where your humanity or the humanity of others is being questioned or oppressed, I mean, just get the hell out of there, right? I mean, maybe I'm oversimplifying.

JEFF: Absolutely. Get the hell out of there. What? What did I say?

SARAH: That sounds very on brand for me: Get the hell out of there.

JEFF: Once a year. Once a year. You say it once a year. So when we talk about allowing people to be where they fully are, that ties in with one of the themes that emerged that morning, not just in Jen's talk, and I think we should make clear that none of us compared notes before we spoke.

SARAH: I think that implies a level of preparation which we did not enjoy.

JEFF: That theme is the reality of and the room needed for grief. And that's maybe even truer now than it was at that first Evolving Faith gathering. We're living in a time of so much grief. And it's funny that we do need permission to grieve sometimes. But maybe that says something about how relational we are.

SARAH: That's exactly right. My own talk at Evolving Faith that year was actually the opener for the conference, even though everybody won't hear it for another couple of episodes. And I remember literally saying that we crossed the threshold into the wilderness because of grief. Right? That there needs to be an acknowledgment of that in these moments that Jen is is talking about, because this is not about fun new ideas, or debating eternal conscious punishment over an IPA at the pub or patting yourself on the back for progressivism. Like, this is actually for survival. Right? That this kind of experience is for life and life that's more abundant, that you are contending for grief and loss and pain to be redeemed or even just to be acknowledged. I think, you know, actually, I know, I know that I underestimated how much all of us in that room that weekend needed to do what Buechner says and obey the sadness of the moment, right? And Jen made room for that sadness really beautifully here when she acknowledges even even though she's acknowledging that there's gifts in the sadness, she obeyed it. And I think that we all needed that exhale.

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JEN HATMAKER: I wrote something on Easter. And it was the first time I told the truth. Yeah. And that was the beginning of my healing point. And I will tell you what I was not prepared for, because at that point, I had only experienced primarily a tsunami of negative emotions, was how many of us are out there, saying, “Oh, me too. Us. That's us. That's our story. I've been there. Keep going.” It was absolutely restorative for me, to say nothing of the now pretty massive influx of new church friends, and internet friends, and conference friends. So my community shrunk and then it enlarged. And it has been one of the great joys of my life. It now feels incredibly expansive in a way that I didn't even know I was missing.

So that's one. Here's the second thing.

Your sense of belonging will be challenged. But you will discover the vibrancy of the wilderness. You will, if you will stay the course long enough. This is similar to the first lesson but in a broader sense. It's for those of you asking, Well, where do I fit now? Right? Who is my crew? Who are my teachers? Where is my church? Right? Where do I belong? 

I'll tell you, frankly, fitting in has always been a brutal bedfellow of mine. Of course, there were always rules and regulations, both spoken and implied, for maintaining insider status in any community. But because our core connection is faith, is some version of Christianity, there is this added layer of behaving and believing correctly, right? In order to belong, those are your prerequisites. Infractions in either category often get you sent outside the gates. This is probably why Christians, I suspect, so frequently hide their flaws and deny failure and bury hard questions, because they can be dealbreakers and we know it. Particularly if you are higher up on the food chain, where leaders are expected to dazzle but not dissent, right? Because belonging is so primal and so necessary, the threat of losing your community or going at it alone feels so terrifying. It keeps most of us distanced from the wilderness our whole lives even, right? 

I believe that human approval is one of our most treasured idols and the offering that you and I have to keep laying at its hungry feet is keeping others comfortable. Obviously, protecting the status quo against our own internal convictions is a luxury of the privileged for whom this system is already centering, right? 

But here's the fact: Choosing the outpost over the security of the gates, it's no joke. And once you start making people uncomfortable, then your belonging is in jeopardy. Speaking against power structures that keep some inside and others outside has a cost, and the currency most often drafted from my account is belonging. Consequently, the wilderness feels very lonely sometimes and very punishing, which is a— it's a powerful disincentive to visit it, isn't it? 

But I have discovered something beautiful. The loneliest steps are the ones between the city walls and the heart of the wilderness, where safety is in the rearview mirror and new territory remains to be seen. And the path out there feels kind of lonely and empty. But if we put one foot in front of the other enough times, stay the course long enough to actually tunnel into the wilderness, I was shocked to find out how many people already live there. And they are thriving, and they are dancing, and they are celebrating and creating and belonging. 

It's not a barren wasteland. It is not unprotected territory. It is not void of human flourishing, nor void of the Spirit of Jesus.

Here's the deal: The wilderness is where all the creatives and prophets and system buckers and risk-takers have always lived. And it is stunningly vibrant. So, yes, the walk out there is hard. But the authenticity out there is life-giving. I feel like I'm getting my life for the first time, in the middle of my 40s. 

Here's the third one: Your courage will be tested. But you are stronger than you think.

I want to acknowledge that some of this is scary. One of you said on one of my socials this week that you are here and you literally couldn't tell anyone. No one. No one knows you’re here. I don't know where they think you are. I don't know what you lied.

Look, we are not all built for tension, or conflict, or even change. Right? Amen? For a lot of us, our faith isn't evolving because we're contrarians. Our faith is evolving because Jesus is changing us. That's it. That's it. And we're like the disciples. Where else would we go? Who else would I follow? 

So some of the inevitable conflict that comes with it— in our families, sometimes in our marriages, in our churches, our friend groups— it's just daunting. It's daunting, and I acknowledge it. For me, it has been the work of my adult life to overcome the fear of rejection, and even more so as my visibility increased, whatever the heck that means. I absolutely buried difficult questions of theology, ideology, interpretation, practices, because I knew, I knew, that even asking them, it could destroy my career.

But eventually I had to decide if I wanted an intact career or an intact soul. And I chose the latter.

Frankly, if my ministry was predicated on group approval rather than personal integrity, it was a house of cards in the first place. Right? So no doubt my courage has been tested. I mean, tested. I had one lady online tell me not too long ago that it would actually be better if I was dead instead of leading. I'm like, okay, Brenda, in like, Cincinnati? What in the world? Oh, my gosh. I'm like, Lord, your people are trying me.

Guess what I learned? Write this down. Words won't kill you.Nor will conflict. Hard conversations— hard conversations won't take you out. You can stand on conviction and refuse to cater to an evil party line. And you won't die. Even the Enneagram Nines. She's still here. She lives.

And guess what? You're going to be really strengthened in surprising and wonderful ways. There are the obvious things that you would look to to expect courage from: Other people. One another. Jesus. Scripture. The earth, I mean, the actual earth. Water was incredibly healing to me for the last two years. If I could get just get my body near some water, I felt my spirit renewed. But for me, in addition to those beautiful gifts, there was simply an immense comfort in just doing the right thing. Standing firmly in the convictions that Jesus gave me was its own comfort and reward. So you're stronger than you think. You are capable of weathering the storm of spiritual evolution, even as it tosses you about a bit. Don't be afraid. 

Finally, some old notion you might have held of certainty will go. But somehow, Jesus remains.

Ironically, I love certainty. I grew up in certainty. I never met a rule I didn't love. Okay? This is one of the hardest things for me. But interestingly learning to make room for spiritual mystery and wonder has been my path toward wholeness. So, the losses along the way have— did not override the immense relief, intellectually and spiritually, of just letting God be this wild, untamable, sometimes unknowable guide and firing myself as his publicist. Right? I quit being God's hype guy. 

So, to be honest, it was the fear and the possibility of rejection and the worry over all these unmoveable group boundaries that kept me posturing and pretending to always be so sure, to always know all the things. So imagine my surprise to let all that arrogance go, plus the applause that comes with it, and discover that that sense of wonder and mystery drew people in far more than it pushed them away. What a relief. 

There was also this sort of imprecise in-process component that seemed to resonate in this community of ours, this idea that, even as a leader, I too was this changing, growing, shifting, developing person. And even as I told the truth, as I understood it today, I didn't and never have and never will own the rights to rightness. And maybe I was wrong. Or maybe I would continue learning. Or, I don't know, we'll see what this all looks like in 10 years.

In my world, possibly yours, the possession of certainty usually secures a top-rung position. But what happens is that it alienates actual human people. And as it turns out, hanging onto that top rung is lonely and it's fake. And those messy, troublesome, actual people are the ones I really want to be surrounded by, because that's exactly who I am too.

So the intrinsic reward, I want you to know this this morning, in living your evolving faith out loud is drawing in the exact folks you wanted all along. The ones who are unafraid to belong to one another and to Jesus. And the best part is this: This is the best thing I have to say. Everything else you just put in the garbage.

No matter what falls away, no matter what shifts, no matter what breaks down, no matter what questions you were asking today that you would never dreamed of asking five years ago, regardless of whether the people say you are in or out now: Jesus remains. He is still here with you. With us. He does not subscribe to our hierarchies and our systems. He is good. And he is present to every generation, and His mercies endure forever. 

And so, look, this is good news. The wineskins have changed thousands of times. But the wine is as good as ever. And it is poured with immeasurable grace into each new container throughout history. 

So we are just the people of God, doing what the people of God have always done, which is discover new ways to find him and see his kingdom come in our time. That's it. 

Your questions, your doubts, your shifting will never scare off Jesus. You are not that powerful. All right? You are not gonna be the one stumbling block he cannot get over. Okay? 

Wrap it up. Let me wrap it up. Okay. 

There's this very, like, wonderful and strange story in Genesis 32. And it's about Jacob, who is physically wrestling with God all night long in the literal wilderness. And upon realizing that Jacob was not going to let him go, and in fact, we find him hollering, “I will not let you go until you bless me.” God touched Jacob's hip, and wrenched it out of socket. This sort of permanent reminder of the struggle of a very determined and stubborn and dogged man with God. A very absurd and ballsy move, right? Literally, as outrageous as it was impressive. In so many ways, I feel like this community, we're like Jacob. We are refusing to let go of God and still outrageous enough to be asking for his blessing. And he will give it. And we will indeed find new land. But we might always walk with a limp.

So, for me, I've chosen the wilderness, because it's where I can tell the truth and lead with the most courage and gather with my fellow outsiders. But this limp, it will remind me of the cost and of what lies behind me. And truthfully, what will probably always feel a little sad and a little bruised. But was it worth it? Unquestionably.

And I have said, and I mean this with the utmost sincerity, my only regret is that I did not find you weirdos sooner. That is it. I'm sorry it took me so long.

--

JEFF: We are weirdos, and I think I'm more and more okay with that.

SARAH: Listen, you just have to embrace the weirdness. I think, in my, in my last book I literally like wrote in the introduction that things are going to get weird in here because maybe I just believe in being, you know, fully upfront and honest. But I realized later that a lot of people actually have a very visceral reaction to the word “weird,” but I've always really liked it. It's outlandish and wild and interesting and unexpected to me. Maybe it's because I come from a charismatic Pentecostal tradition that's never really scared me off the idea of God being a bit weird. And that is definitely what the life of faith has proven to be.

JEFF: I'm all about reclaiming the word “weird” as good. But let's talk more for a moment about this theme of belonging. It's something I've struggled with for a long time. And I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in that, as someone whose eyes and skin look different from what's been considered all-American. As someone who grew up in a culture that's different from what's been considered the norm here. As someone whose sexuality is different from what's been considered the norm here. Belonging has always been an elusive thing. And even in the two places I might have said I once felt it— in my family and in the church—I realized pretty early on that those were contingent on me hiding some aspect of myself. So I guess what I'm saying is my experience of belonging has been somewhat different from Jen's, in the sense that I've rarely felt like belonging is something I've had. So it's not really something I've had to relinquish. For those of us who have lived so much of our lives on the outside, it can be an odd thing to watch others discover these boundaries that we've long transgressed. 

SARAH: Hmm, that is so true. You know, that experience is deeply unique in that way. Right? And certainly not many of us were darlings of anybody's evangelical culture.

JEFF: Well, even if you weren't the darlings of evangelical culture, in the sense of the fame, you probably got to experience the embrace because you were closer to the norm. And being straight as a part of that, being white is a part of that, being a parent is a part of that. So you had choices to belong, that many of us never got to have. But I get that by saying the things you've said and the things that Jen said, she and you have experienced a degree of marginalization as well. 

SARAH: Well, yeah, I mean, I would definitely hesitate to say that because I think you're right. Like there's a difference of choices. Right? But I think a lot of us who do eventually find ourselves in the wilderness or on the, you know, backside of fellowship, have experienced it on some level, right? And so in a lot of ways, maybe, I think, especially when you are in a patriarchal, heteronormative kind of community, you're perceived as a threat, or as dangerous, that we are the ones who have to be controlled or silenced. Because you can't conform, right? I'm thinking, for instance, of all the women with tremendous leadership capabilities who were, throughout, you know, the generations silenced as a Jezebel, right? Characterized as manipulative and hungry for power. When the truth is that they were a Deborah, right? Called to lead. And so the box for acceptability has become smaller and smaller and narrower and narrower, leaving out more and more people. And yet, as Jen learned, the punishment for stepping outside of that box or that boundary, or even acknowledging it, right is so swift and so severe.

JEFF: So where I can and do agree with Jen on a deeply emotional level is where she talks about the idolatry of human approval. I confess I'm guilty of that. I think so often I've sought belonging among other human beings. On some level, though, I think we're always going to be disappointed if we're going to fallible human beings for our ultimate sense of belonging. I know I've so often turned to other people for something that I think can only come from God. And then I get so disappointed when I decide I've been let down.

SARAH: Yeah, I mean, listen, there is not a single sin or regret in my life that I cannot trace back to a hunger for the approval of others. Right? Not a single one. So rooting out the need for approval is really serious business. I think that's why I really like even the heaviness or or vastness of that word like “idolatry.” Because her words there about how leaders in that context are expected to dazzle but not dissent really hits us, right? That's particularly true and so how much glorious it is when you realize that the truth, right? That the loneliest steps are the ones between the city and the outpost? Even if, as you said, your home address has always been the outpost, right? You're never welcome in the city. And so once you realize once you find or stumble upon or are welcomed to that first table in the wilderness, with all the weirdos and outcasts, you realize, as Jacob said, in Genesis, that surely God was in this place. I didn't know it. Right? And that's the celebrating and the creating, and the unexpected goodness of belonging— the flourishing and vibrancy. And that's so worth it.

JEFF: Yeah, it is worth it. You know, the other thing that really rings true to me is Jen's call to courage. It's the courage to ask questions. It's the courage to step into faithful conflict. The courage to relinquish our certainty. And yes, our certainty has to go, but I think I can only do that if God holds the center, which sounds really I don't know, like, traditionally religious. I almost feel like I should tell everyone to call 1-800-PRAY-NOW, like some third-rate televangelist.

SARAH: You would make a great televangelist.

JEFF: I would be a terrible televangelist.

SARAH: You know, in reality, the, the part that I remember in the immediate aftermath of her sermon was when she just literally called me out from the stage. Oh, we had a good laugh, because she said, “You can stand on conviction and refuse to cater to an evil party line, and you won't die. Even the Enneagram Nines.”  Right? Which I think goes back to back to what you were saying.

JEFF: I am an EnneagramSsix, as you know, and I am here to tell you, you will die. Just not for that reason. 

SARAH: It's such a blessing. 

JEFF: Always here to offer some encouragement.

SARAH: Oh, the final thing that I wanted to highlight because it has, I think, deeply shaped me and you and even what we have been trying to do here at Evolving Faith really right from the beginning, was when she says, “Finally some old notion you might have held of certainty will go. But somehow Jesus remains.” And those words that somehow Jesus remains, I mean, it's hard because you need to, we need to, acknowledge that that isn't everyone's story. But it is ours. And it's a big part of our origin story, of how this gathering and this community and these moments and even this podcast came to be. As our friend Rachel Held Evans used to say, right? The story of Jesus is the one that I'm willing to risk being wrong about. And we believed then and I think now, there's room for a community like this, a people like this who still believe, as Jen said, they're at the end, right? That no matter what falls away, no matter what shifts, no matter what breaks down, no matter what questions you were asking today that you never would have dreamed of asking five years ago, regardless of whether people say you are in or out, Jesus remains. The wineskins have changed thousands of times but the wine is as good as ever. And it's poured with immeasurable grace into each new container throughout history, and so we're just the people of God doing what the people of God have always done, which is discover new ways to find and see the kingdom come.

JEFF: Always a sermon, Sarah Bessey. Always a sermon.

SARAH: I am who I am. Besides that was Jen’s sermon. I was just co-opting.

—

RACHEL: My name is Rachel, and I’m a 64-year-old Jesus follower from Colorado. I recently said goodbye to the evangelical church, because the path they are following has broken my heart. My son and daughter-in-law introduced me to you, Sarah, and to Rachel, and Jeff, I just finished listening to your podcast. You all give me hope. I look forward to joining you online for Evolving Faith 2020. May God bless you and keep you.

—

JEFF: Friends, thanks for listening to this episode of the Evolving Faith Podcast. You can follow Jen Hatmaker on Instagram and Twitter at @jenhatmaker. Her books are available anywhere good books are sold. Head over to your local independent bookstore or bookshop.org. And as usual, you can find all this information and everything else you might need in our show notes at evolvinfaith.com. You can follow us on Twitter and Instagram at at @evolvfaith. You can also find me on Twitter at @jeffchu and on Instagram at @byjeffchu.

SARAH: And I'm on Twitter and Instagram as well at @SarahBessey. We also have a podcast community over on Facebook so you can come and hang out with us by searching for the Evolving Faith Podcast After-party. We have a full transcript of the episode at our website; just click on “podcast.” 

The Evolving Faith Podcast is produced, for better or worse, by us, Sarah Bessey and Jeff Chu, along with Jordan Gass-Poore.

JEFF: Thank God for Jordan Gass-Poore!

Friends, we do want to hear from you. If you would like to be featured in an upcoming episode of the Evolving Faith Podcast, just call us 616 929 0409 and tell us; What are you doing to stretch your imagination right now? Who is inspiring you to dream differently? That's 616 929 0409.

SARAH: See, I told you you'd make a great televangelist! 

JEFF: Lord have mercy.

SARAH: Don't forget everyone, the tickets for Evolving Faith 2020 are now on sale at evolvingfaith.com. We have a big rowdy table in the middle of that wilderness and together we will have a feast. I saved a spot for you will have stories and songs wonder curiosity, renewal, redemption, belonging, connection, all of the good stuff.

JEFF: And friends until next time, remember that you are loved.


Sarah Bessey
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Episode 5: Welcome to the Wilderness with Sarah Bessey
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Episode 3: The Theology of the Compost with Jeff Chu