So clearly they weren’t limited in the expression of their gifts (just read through those examples above!), they were just made to feel that their gifts were 1) limited by their gender, and 2) less valuable than the gifts of the men in the room. The women weren’t limited in serving, only in the recognition and pay they received for doing so.

But I never thought much about it. I didn’t want to be a pastor. None of my friends wanted to be pastors. Honestly, none of the women I knew wanted to be pastors (or they didn’t express that they wanted to). They knew they couldn’t and that’s just the way it was. I honestly didn’t give it any attention. I was going to get married, have a lot of kids, be a teacher, and not be affected.

My husband entered vocational ministry when we were both nineteen and had been together for two years. We were married two years later and soon moved to a megachurch in Dallas where women could not hold the title of pastor. Although I’m sure the policies and restrictions were similar on paper, the megachurch felt different than the rural church we had left in West Texas.

The women of our West Texas church were not serving on staff at the church because the church was small and there were only a handful of paid ministers. Almost everyone was a volunteer, both men and women. But the Dallas megachurch had countless women on staff who worked crazy hours just like the men did. They held official titles, just not “pastor”: they were “director”s, “coordinator”s, “assistant”s. They did just as much work as the men but without the recognition or pay.

The men said were just following “the Billy Graham rule”: never eat, travel, or be “alone” (even in public) with any woman who is not your wife. If a woman was riding the elevator alone at our church, a male pastor would wait for the next one. If a woman needed counseling, either another person had to be present or she had to be counseled by a woman. To put it plainly, in a church of 42,000 people (!!!), a lot of women were either not being served or were being served by women who did not receive the recognition or pay they deserved.

When we could no longer stomach the megachurch, my husband quit and we started attending an egalitarian church where women were esteemed, utilized, and valued for their gifts. It was unlike anything we had ever seen, both professionally and personally.

Women led in pastoral roles. They preached (and were not immediately struck down by God!). Our pastor opened eldership to women during my husband’s time on staff and while many in the church world cried heresy, the pastor stayed the course in order to turn that big, wieldy ship toward equality for women.

And the church was better for it. I remember some of the male elders expressing envy for the women’s ability to care for the hurting within the church, commenting on the beauty of one female elder literally crawling into a hospital bed with a dying congregant. None of the men would have even thought to do so, much less attempted to comfort someone in this way.

When we planted our church, Restore, my husband knew that he did not want to continue the legacy of patriarchy that we had been handed. But there was a catch: he would need to meet with women one on one without me present. I had a job and had no interest in being present for his work day activities, and I needed to be okay with this change.

The thought of him being “alone” (in public, mind you, this now makes me laugh) with other women concerned me at first— I wasn’t used to it and I didn’t like the idea. Plus I had been told all of my life that this was the slippery slope to affairs and “moral failure.” But there was no women’s minister. There were literally five of us: my husband, myself, our baby, and our music minister and his wife who had moved with us. If Zach didn’t do it, there was no one to do it; and if we wanted the church to make it, we needed some women to get involved.

We set the ground rules to make sure that he was being wise and no one would be able to accuse him of misconduct: he would meet with women one-on-one in public places only, and he would let me know when, where, and with whom those meetings would occur. They would always happen during work hours and would typically be at a restaurant or coffee shop. If a woman asked to meet with him multiple times, he would refer out to another professional (this has only happened a handful of times in eleven years), which became his rule for all church members as my husband is not a professional counselor.

It feels silly to me now but these were our baby steps toward full equality for women within our church. It’s also scary to think that I potentially had the power to sway the ship away from full inclusion and equal rights for women had I been too insecure to support my husband in his efforts to make sure that women were treated with dignity and respect.

I’m not going to lie, it was hard at first! Girls and women within our former churches were warned of the dangers of our men being wooed away by the vixens that were waiting to pounce at the first opportunity (because women are, at their core, sexual beings whose only mission is to seduce men). I was terrified that my husband was going to leave me and our baby for some woman he met at a Starbucks to discuss our little church plant.

But that didn’t happen. The church grew and so did women’s leadership within it. I watched my husband support women by hiring them, learning from them, and accommodating their specific needs. He adjusted meetings around working moms’ schedules. He gave flexibility to the dads on staff who were equally parenting the kids while their wives worked.

And guess what? Our church culture is so much more family centric than any other we have been a part of. You can say that your church prioritizes families while it actually make no effort to accommodate parents who are trying to parent well while being involved in their communities and the church. You can talk about how women are valuable and preach egalitarianism but not adjust the workplace to match the needs of women who are often caregiving for children, parents, and their communities at large.

I have also watched some of my dear friends benefit from this model by becoming pastors amongst our people. Our church is better for their talent, time, and leadership. I have seen the fruit of men learning from women as they work alongside female pastors as equals. I have watched as little girls (and boys!) see women in every area of leadership without thinking twice about their gender. And I have watched women get paid equally for their work, something that isn’t true of many companies, not just patriarchal churches.

Lastly, I have seen women treated as full image bearers rather than sexual beings who serve the sole purposes of gratifying men and bearing their babies. Women aren’t seen as a temptation to the men in leadership at our church because the men see them as fully human contributors to the work being done for our community, not just objects to be used or people to be controlled. Women aren’t sexualized and villainized as temptresses to the pastors who are actively avoiding a “moral failure.” (That sentence was hard to type but this way of thinking is still present in many churches today.)

No, women are involved in leadership at every level. They are valued for their intellect, service, and talents. They aren’t expected to dress in a certain way (either fully covering themselves or dressing to please men, depending on the setting) or cater to the men’s preferences. They work alongside men to accomplish the beautiful, messy, holistic work of caring for a body of believers who need the diverse leadership of all God’s people, regardless of gender.

What if I had believed the lie that women are only out to snag a man? Especially a prominent man?

What if I had let my own insecurities and anxiety prevent our church from growing into the diverse collection of faces and voices that it has become? A place where everyone is welcome to experience the extravagant love of God as a co-inheritor and contributor regardless of their gender, socioeconomic status, sexual orientation, ability, etc?

Which of my now friends would have been sidelined and prevented from holding a leadership position? And how many women would not feel safe to participate because they did not see themselves reflected in the church staff?

How many little girls would believe that God thought they were a little dumber, a little less competent, and a little less important than their male peers? And how many boys would follow in the footsteps of generations of men who pushed women to the side in order to maintain their comfort and control?

Thank God for a husband who asked me to push beyond the realm of what was comfortable and consider something better.

Thank God for a church who welcomes everyone (actually!) and says, “You can sit with me at God’s table” no matter your station. I’m grateful for the ongoing nudging of the Spirit to become evermore inclusive and loving, no matter my previous biases.

Thank God for a big, beautiful, unwieldy faith that requires more of me than asking him to be my gift-giving-genie, granting wishes of fortune and ease while those around me suffer.

Because God is not limited by our physical vessels— by our gender, age, intellect, status, abilities, or anything else about us. If the Spirit of God truly lives within us— and that Spirit is not gendered!— then we all have the same access to God and opportunity to serve according to our own (non-gendered) gifts.

The body of Christ is better for our diversity, not in spite of it, and it needs all of us. May we continue to builder longer tables for absolutely everyone around us.

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All of the content available at Public Theology is for those who identify as Christian, as well as those who might be interested in learning about a more inclusive, kind, thoughtful Christianity. To receive new posts and support the work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

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Personalized and signed copies of Zach’s debut book Better Ways to Read the Bible and the accompanying Participant Guide for personal or small group bible study are currently on sale through Zach’s online store.

Lastly, we are happy to cover subscription costs for anyone who needs it but can’t afford it at this time. If you would like to join the Public Theology community and gain access to our paid subscriber content (which we keep behind a paywall for the privacy and connection of our community) but cannot afford to do so, please message Amy Lambert directly.

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We are happy to cover subscription costs for anyone who needs it but can’t afford it at this time. If you would like to join the Public Theology community and gain access to our paid subscriber content (which we keep behind a paywall for the privacy and connection of our community) but cannot afford to do so, please message Amy Lambert directly.

About a month ago, I received an email from William He asking if I’d like to give an invocation for an event called The Dream for America Democracy Summit. It would be held here in Austin on the University of Texas campus and would feature speakers (in person and via video) like Kamala Harris, Pete Buttigieg, Stacey Abrams, James Talarico, and many more.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure if it was an opportunity I should take—I didn’t want to serve as something like a pastoral mascot, offering an opening prayer as a nod to our majority Christian country. But then I got a follow-up email from William asking if I also speak about the dangers of Christian Nationalism to the United States. I was on board immediately. I truly believe that Christian pastors like me should be the most assertive advocates against the devastating ideology of Christian Nationalism.

So on the morning of August 15th, I put on my suit (which I absolutely hate wearing), got in my car, and drove to UT to talk to a few hundred folks from all over the religious and political spectrum about the dangers of Christian Nationalism. Here is what I said:

My name is Zach Lambert. I’m the pastor a church called Restore just down the road from here. I’m the co-founder of something called the Post-Evangelical Collective and the author of Better Ways to Read the Bible: Transforming a Weapon of Harm into a Tool of Healing.

I am also someone who deeply loves this country and is worried about it’s future. Christian Nationalism is an existential threat to democracy, freedom, and to American itself. And I believe that Christian pastors like me should be the loudest voices pushing back against this harmful ideology.

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Introducing our August Book of the Month!

Inspired: Slaying Giants, Walking on Water, and Loving the Bible Again by Rachel Held Evans

If you have ever wondered if the Bible is literal or inerrant, what it actually is or how to read it, this book is for you!

It’s not an exaggeration to say that Inspired by Rachel Held Evans is one of the main reasons I wanted to write Better Ways to Read the Bible, and it’s been such an honor to hear that they’ve become companion guides for so many people as they navigate reconstruction.

Honestly, this is the book I quote the most when I preach and it’s probably the book I have recommended most frequently to those going through the deconstruction and reconstruction process at my church. Here’s one of my favorite quotes from the book:

We’re giving a copy of Inspired to one of our paid subscribers! Just comment below with why you would like a copy of this book and you will be entered into the drawing for a free copy. The winner will be announced on Thursday, August 20th. Best of luck!

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Personalized and signed copies of Zach’s debut book, Better Ways to Read the Bible, are currently on sale through Zach’s website for $25 + shipping. It’s also available wherever books are sold.

Lastly, we are happy to cover subscription costs for anyone who needs it but can’t afford it at this time. If you would like to join the Public Theology community and gain access to our paid subscriber content (which we keep behind a paywall for the privacy and connection of our community) but cannot afford to do so, please message Amy Lambert directly.

For thousands of years, billions of people have come together around tables to partake in Communion across every part of the globe.

They do this— we do this— because the Communion table is sacred to our faith. The table has always been at the center of human life and it makes sense that this sacrament takes place around a table, too. Since the beginning of time, we have been gathering around tables to eat, drink, share conversation, and tell stories. The table transcends time and place, culture and language; it is an indispensable part of everyday human life.

The table is a sacred, recurring theme throughout all of Scripture. In fact, the most popular biblical metaphor used to describe God’s family and God’s Kingdom is people gathered around a table!

Scripture also describes the moment when Jesus comes back to finish his work of restoration as a huge party centered around a banquet table.

I look forward to that day but we have plenty of work to do now. Until then, we are going to be pulling up chairs around Jesus’ table at Restore, our church in Austin, and figuratively here online. We are doing everything we can to make sure that anybody who wants a seat has one and that everyone can experience the extravagant love of Jesus. Not for a political agenda. Not because they should. But because the Jesus we find in the Bible provides a better way— a more just, beautiful, loving, and accepting way— than what is being sold in many churches.

Over the past couple of years, we’ve made a decision to be more intentional with how and how often we celebrate Communion at our church. This decision was made after dozens of conversations amongst our staff, leadership, and congregation indicating that our church family would like to celebrate Communion together more often.

I know that we all have different backgrounds when it comes to this. Some of us come from traditions that practice Communion every week while others participated very rarely. Some of you don’t have any experience with it or have had particularly bad experiences.

There can be significant variation between how Communion is practiced, so I want to discuss what Communion is and where it comes from.

Like so many parts of Christianity, Communion has its roots in Judaism. On the night before Jesus was killed on the cross, he and his closest friends gathered around a table to celebrate the Passover meal, and during that meal, which we now call the Last Supper, Jesus changed the Passover for his followers.

Passover was a big deal in the Jewish world. Each year, its arrival was announced by silver trumpets blown from on top of the Temple Mount that could be heard all over the city of Jerusalem. Passover looked backward in time to the freeing of God’s people from slavery in Egypt, but it also looked forward to the coming of the Savior who would free God’s people from slavery to sin.

Unbeknownst to most of the world, this Savior, Jesus, was already with them.

When the hour came, Jesus and his apostles reclined at the table. And he said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer.”

Luke 22:14-15

Jesus had eagerly desired this specific Passover because he knew that this one would change everything. The Savior that had been anticipated for thousands of years was finally here, and he was ready to set people free.

The Passover meal always consisted of the same bread, the same wine, and the same rituals. The people of God had been celebrating their freedom from Egypt the same way for thousands of years, but on this night, Jesus changed things for his followers.

And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.”

In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.”

Luke 22:19-20

Bread and wine were prominently featured in the Passover meal. The bread symbolized God’s daily provision for his people as they wandered through the dessert and the wine represented the joy of finding the Promised Land.

But around the table on this night, Jesus changes them. This is a big deal. He says the bread represents his body and the wine represents his blood. He doesn’t say “Remember the Passover,” he says, “Remember me.” Jesus says, “This cup is the new covenant.” Jesus is making a reference here to Jeremiah 31 where God said a New Covenant was coming:

“The day is coming,” says the Lord, “when I will make a new covenant with the people of Israel and Judah. This covenant will not be like the one I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand and brought them out of the land of Egypt. They broke that covenant, though I loved them as a husband loves his wife,” says the Lord.

“But this is the New Covenant I will make with the people of Israel after those days,” says the Lord. “I will put my instructions deep within them, and I will write them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people… And I will forgive their wickedness, and I will never again remember their sins.”

Jeremiah 31:31-34

This New Communion represents this New Covenant.

The wine represents the blood of Jesus that washes away every sin.

The bread represents the body of Jesus that gives life to everyone who receives it.

This is the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus Christ. And every time we gather around the Communion table, we remember, celebrate, and proclaim this Good News.

“It’s worth noting that at the center of the spiritual lives of God’s people in both the Old and New Testaments, we find a table: the table of Passover and the table of Communion.”

N.T. Wright

At our church, the table is of central importance. We want Restore to be a place where anyone has a seat at the table and everyone experiences the extravagant love of Jesus.

Communion is one of the ways we make that vision a reality and so we have integrated it into our weekly services. Here’s how we participate in Communion at Restore:

1. Communion is for everybody who wants to partake. Jesus has made it clear over and over again that anyone has seat as his table and everyone can experience the extravagant love and resurrected life of Christ. Whether it’s the very first time or the thousandth time, taking Communion is open to all people.

2. But you don’t have to. If you don’t want to receive communion today or any day, that is completely okay. We don’t judge or condemn you. There is no coercion or emotional manipulation.

After everyone who wants to participate has received the elements, we turn toward the Communion table which lives right in the middle of the room. We look at the faces around the table and acknowledge everyone who shares in this communal experience. We are different in age, race, gender, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status, background and belief but, as Scripture says, even though we are many, we are one, united together through Jesus.

The people around the table on the night of the Last Supper were very different, too. In fact, prior to following Jesus, one of them had been a tax collector and another one belonged to a groups called the Zealots who were known for killing tax collectors.

But they were united together through Jesus just as we are. People have been united around Communion tables all over the world throughout human history. For thousands of years, people who are as different as can be have gathered to remember the one who welcomes everyone to his table. We are a part of that tradition, too.

No matter how different we are, Communion is a declaration that we receive the same provision and are in need of the same grace. We can’t police others around the table— that’s not our job— but we can take a moment to say, “This is what I believe, thank God.” Despite our differences. Regardless of how mad that person makes us or how much we vehemently disagree with their positions on X, Y, or Z. For that moment— and as a reminder of our work in every other moment— we give ourselves to God and release the need to control others.

Does this mean that we condone bad behavior? Absolutely not. Does this mean that we don’t continue to work toward justice and dignity for every person on earth? Not at all. Does this mean that we pretend everything is fine in an attempt to be unified? Nope. But it does remind us that we are not in control and we are also in need. There is something necessary and beautiful to seeing ourselves in this way.

Communion reminds us of our rightful place as agents of love and justice amongst all the people of the earth, regardless of their religious beliefs or political opinions or anything else about them. It is a realigning of our priorities and actions. It’s a reorientation to the fact that we are responsible for ourselves and using our agency and whatever privilege we may have to meet the needs of those around us.

No matter how you practice Communion, or if you don’t practice at all, I hope you feel the presence of a good and loving God in your life, today and always. We are in this together for the good of our neighbors because of the great love God has shown us. The bread and the wine (or the cracker and the grape juice) remind us of our rightful place in the body of Christ as a means of hope in the world. What a privilege.

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Public Theology is based on the work of Zach W. Lambert, Pastor of Restore, an inclusive church in Austin, Texas. He and his wife, Amy Lambert, contribute to and moderate this account. Zach’s first book, Better Ways to Read the Bible, is now available wherever books are sold. Zach and Amy are currently writing a devotional based on Better Ways to Read the Bible which will release Summer 2027.

We’re happy to cover subscription costs for anyone who wants to subscribe to Public Theology but can’t afford to do so at this time. If you would like to join the Public Theology community and gain access to our paid subscriber content (which we keep behind a paywall for the privacy and connection of our community) but cannot afford to do so, please message Amy Lambert directly.

Lastly, personalized and signed copies of Zach’s debut book, Better Ways to Read the Bible, are currently on sale through Zach’s website for $25 + shipping. It’s also available wherever books are sold.

All of the content available at Public Theology is for those who identify as Christian as well as those who might be interested in learning about a more inclusive, kind, thoughtful Christianity. To receive new posts and support the work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

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An Announcement!

Since Better Ways to Read the Bible came out a year ago, so many of y’all have asked if/when it would be adapted into a study for groups. Well, I have some very good news: it’s finally here!

The group study curriculum officially releases on August 18, but you can preorder it now through the publisher and through Amazon. We’re only two weeks away!

Better Ways to Read the Bible is now available as a complete group study, with video sessions, participant guides, and a leader guide. Whether you’re part of a small group, book club, Sunday school class, or simply a handful of friends who want to explore better ways of reading the Bible together, this study gives you everything you need to explore better ways of reading the Bible within a group.

I’m so excited to provide this opportunity for anyone who has loved (or is interested in reading) the book to go through it with others. It’s been a gift to serve you all through Better Ways to Read the Bible and I am thrilled to expand the offering to meet the increasing need for healthy, hope-filled Bible study for those wanting to study alongside like-minded people. We need it now more than ever.

If you enjoyed the post, please comment, share, or subscribe. We are grateful for your support!

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We’re also happy to cover subscription costs for anyone who wants to subscribe to Public Theology but can’t afford to do so at this time. If you would like to join the Public Theology community and gain access to our paid subscriber content (which we keep behind a paywall for the privacy and connection of our community) but cannot afford to do so, please message Amy Lambert directly.

Lastly, personalized and signed copies of Zach’s debut book, Better Ways to Read the Bible, are currently on sale through Zach’s website for $25 + shipping. It’s also available wherever books are sold.

Subscribe now

All of the content available at Public Theology is for those who identify as Christian, as well as those who might be interested in learning about a more inclusive, kind, thoughtful Christianity. To receive new posts and support the work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Booted from evangelicalism, a progressive, ‘post-evangelical’ church blooms in Texas

Led by Zach Lambert, Restore church is part of a small but growing countertrend.

By Kathryn Post
July 28, 2026

AUSTIN, Texas (RNS) — When Mariah and Michaela Montgomery-Lindsay moved more than 150 miles from Houston to Austin with three cats and two dogs in tow, it wasn’t for a job or family, but for church.

“I was just aching for a community of people who understood this transitionary pain that I was experiencing in my life, and this deconstruction that I was going through,” Mariah said.

She and her now-wife, Michaela, had been watching Sunday services of the Austin church, Restore, on YouTube for years. After growing up in a charismatic church and suppressing her gay identity for most of her life, Restore Austin, which offers a rare blend of progressive theology and evangelical expression, was the first church Mariah encountered that understood her exit from evangelicalism and was LGBTQ-affirming. After learning about Restore’s LGBTQ social group, the couple wanted in.

In early 2024, they arrived in the parking lot of the middle school where Restore meets each Sunday. That first visit, Mariah recalled, was a “visceral experience.”

“I think I cried the first 30 minutes of that service,” Mariah said. “I felt so safe to be completely myself.”

That safety wasn’t signaled by pride flags or priests in rainbow vestments, but unquestioned acceptance. It’s a congregation that will cheer as gay couples share news of their engagements, and each Sunday, a message flashing across the screen declares, “WELCOME to a community that celebrates differences and diversity.”

“People greeted us like a normal couple,” Mariah said.

Many of Restore’s roughly 1,200 members are religious exiles who’ve left conservative evangelical churches — often citing an emphasis on Christian nationalism. They’ve come to Restore looking for a church that both worships Jesus as a savior and follows what they describe as his model of radical love. They’re hoping they don’t have to give up their jeans, church coffee and worship music to find it.

“I bet we’re still 90% people who have had bad church experiences,” said Zach Lambert, lead pastor and founder of Restore. “More and more people, I think, have seen a need for a church like ours to be an alternative to Christian nationalist, right-wing churches.”

As Restore continues to grow, it’s become emblematic of a small but significant countertrend in America’s religious landscape. While white evangelicals remain among President Donald’s Trump’s most stalwart supporters, a recent poll found that nearly half of Gen Z agreed that Christians’ support of Trump has made them less likely to go to church. And young women and LGBTQ Americans are increasingly likely to claim no religious identity.

Restore, and other post-evangelical churches like it, have become a home for Christians who reject the MAGA movement while refusing to discard their faith. While politically and theologically more aligned with liberal mainline denominations, these churches retain the evangelical aesthetics so familiar and cherished by the exvangelicals in their pews — especially the music style — even as they insist racial justice, gender equality and LGBTQ inclusion are necessary outcomes of the gospel.

Church origins

As a young person, Lambert’s faith was formed by two Southern Baptist megachurches; the one in Austin where he was raised, and later, Prestonwood Baptist Church, a 40,000-member Texas Southern Baptist congregation where he interned for two years. Both were the kind of church many of his now-congregants have fled.

At Prestonwood, he recalled, he was groomed to become a megachurch pastor. But his illusions about ministry quickly evaporated. He described leaders who demanded unquestioning loyalty, teachings that demeaned women and a church culture preoccupied with public image.

“By the end of it, I was really done,” Lambert said. “I quit, thinking I was probably never going to be in ministry again.”

Soon after, though, Lambert connected with evangelical churches that seemed more receptive to some of the progressive values he’d gradually embraced. In 2016, he and a launch team planted Restore. It was part of the Evangelical Free Church of America, but allowed women leaders, invited LGBTQ people to lead and marry, and was designed for people escaping negative church experiences yet yearning for a faith community. Austin, a longtime Democratic outpost in Texas, seemed like the ideal place.

But like many evangelical churches, most congregations in the Evangelical Free Church of America believe the Bible teaches that only men should be pastors and that marriage should be between a man and a woman. When Restore baptized a lesbian couple in its first year, Lambert said, local churches organized to remove Restore from the denomination. In 2019, they were successful.

“Our church was kicked out,” Lambert said. “I was put on trial and my ministry license was revoked.”

After being unaffiliated for several years, Restore last year joined the United Methodist Church, an LGBTQ-affirming mainline denomination on the other end of the religious spectrum.

The ‘magic combination’

In many ways, Restore’s backstory — formed in an evangelical context, then forced out of it — mirrors that of many attendees. And it’s what made it the perfect fit for Eric McDermid, a 43-year-old retired data scientist. After years at an Austin megachurch, McDermid left when he saw widespread support for Trump and what he viewed as selective application of Scripture.

McDermid and his wife tried out some mainline churches, but they missed some aspects of the megachurch model — especially how it welcomes newcomers with clear signs, coffee and a simple worship format. At Restore, he found those elements, plus a progressive faith.

“The comfortable, contemporary, laid-back setting, but these kinds of beliefs … that was the magic combination for us,” said McDermid, who now serves on Restore’s leadership team.

The church’s history has also made it more attuned to members’ religious baggage. Mark Jordan, Restore’s care pastor, is a veteran and trained hospital chaplain, and no stranger to trauma. He’s often the first to greet newcomers at the door, and, with kind eyes and a warm smile, he makes it his mission to exude a “non-anxious presence.”

“A lot of people, when they come in, especially those of the LGBTQ community, the question that they ask me is, ‘Is this a safe space?’” Jordan said. “What I look forward to is not only connecting with people, but being a part of a safe, inclusive community. That is the work of Jesus.”

Scripture has often been weaponized against church members, especially the roughly 33% who are LGBTQ, Lambert said. Because many members struggle with reading the Bible and don’t carry it to church, Bible passages are displayed on the screen. When they contain something potentially upsetting — such as portions commonly known as LGBTQ clobber passages — it’s normal for speakers to give a warning.

Sermons focus less on requiring certainty, and more on adding context and inviting reflection. Communion is open to everyone, including those with doubts.

“Come to this table, you who have much faith and you who would like to have more … you who have tried to follow Jesus and you who have failed,” Lambert says each week.

For Nicolle Truett, it wasn’t easy to settle into Restore’s culture of unconditional welcome. Raised as a missionary kid in the Foursquare Church, she later left the Pentecostal denomination, saying she was removed from her job there soon after she reported abuse. Though her experience left her feeling “angry and cynical” when she first came to Restore, eventually, she said, the community compelled her to stay. She told RNS that people at Restore get what it’s like to be mistreated in a faith community they loved. But they’re also committed to avoiding the kind of us-vs-them, binary thinking they often found in those settings.

“There’s never an indication that we have what is right and everyone else has what is wrong,” she said. “Everybody here has a story of being excluded and abused and harmed, and still has a commitment to figure out how to do it better and how not to do this again to anybody else.”

RELATED: How LGBTQ-affirming churches are confronting religious trauma

Post-evangelical

By the time Restore was forced out of its first denomination in 2019, Lambert had gained a social media following for his online advocacy on topics like free lunch programs and LGBTQ rights.

“Bible verses condemning trans folks: 0; Bible verses about welcoming migrants: 33; Bible verses about advocating for peace: 429; Bible verses about loving God and others: 714; Bible verses about taking care of the poor: 2000+” Lambert wrote in one viral post.

Though his outspoken views have earned him many critics who accuse him of partisanship and heresy, his online reach is part of what connected him and Restore to a larger movement.

Lambert began to discover pastors with similar stories, including Mike Goldsworthy, who led a church in Long Beach, California. In October 2021, Goldsworthy convened roughly 100 likeminded pastors who led congregations with evangelical ties but who believed evangelicalism had been co-opted by the MAGA movement.

Out of that initial convening, Lambert, Goldsworthy and Keri Ladouceur co-founded the Post-Evangelical Collective, now a network of over 150 churches connected by shared values, regional bodies and a national conference that, Ladouceur said, has grown roughly 25% each year.

“Many had been exiled from their previous denominational affiliation, many had been really lonely and kind of wondering, you know, ‘Am I the only one?’” said Ladouceur, who is based in Raleigh, North Carolina and serves as executive director of the collective. “There was such a sense of validation and permission and shared imagination to rethink, what does it mean to be the church in this time, beyond Christian nationalism?”

Christian ethicist David Gushee, who serves on the collective’s wisdom board, said while Lambert’s public platform has only grown since co-founding the collective — he has 56K X followers and is the bestselling author of “Better Ways to Read the Bible” — Lambert sees himself first as a local pastor. That, Gushee said, has helped kept the collective “church-oriented.”

“There’s a way to be post-evangelical that is mainly about opposition to evangelicalism,” Gushee said. “Zach has had plenty of reasons to be angry and traumatized and against, but that’s not what he leads with. He leads with a constructive, winsome Christian vision that is focused on growing a church that can serve the legions of post-evangelicals who need community.”

Lately, Lambert and Restore’s leaders have been growing the church through their partnership with the United Methodist Church, a move that grants them more resources and support. It also merged with Memorial United Methodist Church, a 151-year-old congregation in East Austin, and is in the process of renovating and moving to Memorial’s 35,000-square-foot campus. The move will allow Restore to have a consistent worship space for the first time in its 10-year history, and will provide a central hub for Restore’s justice work.

A wedding

In the two years that they’ve been at Restore, Mariah and Michaela Montgomery-Lindsay have been part of the church’s evolution. After joining Restore’s LGBTQ social group, they saw a need for an LGBTQ group more focused on Bible study — so they formed one.

In May, they gathered in the hills outside of Austin, and surrounded by the new friends they’d moved to Austin to meet, Lambert married them.

“Your marriage brings great joy to the heart of God,” Lambert declared, “just as it does to mine and to the hearts of everyone here today.”

Thank you to Kathryn Post for her work on this article and another featuring our church, Restore. You can see this article in its entirety at religionnews.com.

June 27, 2026:

How LGBTQ-affirming churches are confronting religious trauma

(RNS) — Nearly half of Americans who left religion cite the mistreatment or rejection of LGBTQ+ people as an important reason. But how do the LGBTQ+ people who stay find healing?

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We’re also happy to cover subscription costs for anyone who wants to subscribe to Public Theology but can’t afford to do so at this time. If you would like to join the Public Theology community and gain access to our paid subscriber content (which we keep behind a paywall for the privacy and connection of our community) but cannot afford to do so, please message Amy Lambert directly.

Lastly, personalized and signed copies of Zach’s debut book, Better Ways to Read the Bible, are currently on sale through Zach’s website for $25 + shipping. It’s also available wherever books are sold.

But he was truly torn. We talked about it and prayed for clarity together for weeks. Then one Sunday morning I walked into church and heard him yell from across the lobby, “ZACH! I know where God wants me to go to college!”

He ran to me and blurted out, “Colorado State! God wants me to go to Colorado State.”

“That’s awesome, man!” I said. Colorado State is a great school. How did you finally decide that’s where God wants you to go?”

“Well, I was reading my Bible the other day and I came across Psalm 121:1 which says: I lift up my eyes to the mountains--where does my help come from?”

He stopped and I waited, thinking there must be another verse or two coming.

But after a few seconds of silence he said, “Don’t you see? College Station is flat, but Fort Collins and Colorado State have tons of mountains!”

God works in mysterious ways.

While this story is completely true, I know it feels like a ridiculous example. Most of us wouldn’t read a verse about mountains and declare it to be the voice of God directing us to his chosen university, but I bet every single one of us has experienced a Bible verse being plucked out of context.

I had a seminary professor who used to say: “A text without context is a pretext for a proof text.” Proof-texting is using a verse or passage to prop up an ideology that Jesus and the whole of Scripture doesn’t actually support. This happens all the time.

This is such a significant problem in the church and one that I talk about so often that someone bought me this notebook:

This is one of those laugh to keep from crying situations. While many times these verses are taken out of context in innocuous ways like the young man in my youth group, it often happens in ways that really hurt people. So many Bible verses have been used in ways that have not only really hurt people, but even driven many folks away from the church and Christianity altogether.

My goal is to help people engage these verses through the lenses of what we know to be true about God through Christ and what we know to be true about the context and culture they were written in. Our aim should always be to read and interpret these verses in ways that lead to Christlikeness, healthy community, and flourishing for absolutely everyone.

This is vitally important work because, as I insinuated earlier, you can twist the Bible and make it say just about anything you want it to. In her book about the Bible called Inspired, Rachel Held Evans puts it like this:

“The truth is, you can bend Scripture to say just about anything you want it to say. You can bend it until it breaks… If you are looking for Bible verses with which to support slavery, you will find them. If you are looking for verses with which to abolish slavery, you will find them. If you are looking for verses with which to oppress women, you will find them. If you are looking for verses with which to honor and celebrate women, you will find them.

If you are looking for reasons to wage war, there are plenty. If you are looking for reasons to promote peace, there are plenty more. If you are looking for an outdated and irrelevant ancient text, that’s exactly what you will see. If you are looking for truth, that’s exactly what you will find.”

Rachel Held Evans

Rachel is exactly right. We must approach all of Scripture in context in order to truly understand what it says. This process starts with a posture of humility and a desire to learn because none of us belongs to the original audience of Scripture. We aren’t ancient Israelites or first century Near Easterners living under Roman occupation. This means that we don’t intrinsically understand the biblical context and we must do everything we can to learn the setting, culture, author, audience, purpose, language, and genre of what we are reading when we do biblical interpretation.

We must learn to read Scripture over the shoulder of the original audience. As biblical scholar Justo Gonzalez says:

“The notion that we read the New Testament exactly as the early Christians did, without any weight of tradition coloring our interpretation, is an illusion. It is also a dangerous illusion, for it tends to absolutize our interpretation, confusing it with the Word of God.”

Justo Gonzalez

As one of the most popular verses in the Bible, Philippians 4:13 is the perfect example.

We see this verse all over the place and it often comes across as innocent; it feels basically the same as any other inspirational quote we see printed on posters or embroidered on decorative pillows.

When I was playing football in college, this verse was written on the whiteboard in our weight room. We used to have to get up at 5am for workouts every morning in the offseason. Believe it or not, sometimes it’s hard to get motivated to lift weights at 5am, especially when you are a college student.

Whenever someone was having trouble finishing a lift or slacking off during agility drills, we had a coach who would come and yell Philippians 4:13 at us. “GET THE LAST REP UP! YOU CAN DO ALL THINGS THROUGH CHRIST WHO STRENGTHENS YOU!!!” Powerful stuff, no doubt about it, but probably not exactly what Paul had in mind all those years ago.

But the problem is that this inspirational quote props up an incredibly damaging view of God— that God is a genie who exists to help us have better workouts, get the next promotion, buy nicer stuff, get our kids a scholarship, or whatever else our hearts desire.

Again, this may sound innocuous at first, but what happens when we don’t get what our heart desires? What happens when we pray and tithe and read the Bible and go to church and things still don’t work out the way we want them to? The way we need them to?

I have a friend named Javier who grew up in a church with Philippians 4:13 literally painted on the wall in the sanctuary. He never knew his dad, but his mom took him and his little sisters to church every single time the doors were open. She diligently tithed even though her income was meager and she volunteered in the nursery every Sunday morning.

“She’s the most faithful person I have ever known.” Javier once told me. But when Javier was 16, his mom got sick. When she went to the doctor, they found stage four cervical cancer and she was given six months to live.

The first place they went after the doctor’s office was their church. Javier’s mom wanted the pastor to pray over her. She sat in a church pew right underneath that painting of Philippians 4:13 as the pastor laid hands on her and prayed.

Javier still remembers the pastor’s prayer, “Dear God, your word says that we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us, so we know that through the power of Christ, this woman is going to beat cancer and experience miraculous healing.”

Javier’s mom passed away four months later. Do you know what this terrible use of Philippians 4:13 did to Javier’s faith? Absolutely destroyed it. He walked away from church and from God.

This is why Justo Gonzalez calls this kind of Biblical interpretation “dangerous illusions.” When these illusions shatter, it’s like dropping a sheet of glass—the shards go everywhere and people get cut by the broken pieces.

It wasn’t until Javier talked with a pastor almost two decades later that he was able to deconstruct the harmful way this verse and many others had been used in his life. He was able to see Philippians 4:13 in context and, by God’s grace, the biblical passage has been transformed from a weapon of harm into a tool of healing in Javier’s life.

When you understand this verse the way the author intended it, it’s really quite beautiful. You may be wondering how you can figure out the context. Great question! The easiest thing to do is simply read the passage surrounding any given verse. Let’s try it out with Philippians 4.

Philippians is a letter written by a persecutor-of-Christians-turned-pastor named Paul. We know from the first chapter of this letter that Paul is writing it from prison. He wrote this letter to the church in Philippi mostly as a kind of “thank you note” for their support of him during difficult times, but he also spends part of the letter offering encouragement and support of his own.

Chapter 4 is the last section of this letter. In it, Paul reminds these early Christians to “rejoice always” and bring all of their worries to God in prayer. He promises that God’s peace is always available to them, no matter what they may face. And when we come to the section which houses the infamous Philippians 4:13, Paul thanks them again for their support and then says:

When you read this verse in context, it’s easy to see that Paul is not casting God as some magical genie who grants your every wish. He’s not saying that God will get you a promotion or heal your cancer if you just pray hard enough. He’s not promising a life of blessings if you just follow all of God’s rules.

Paul is saying that his faith in Jesus empowers him to endure any circumstance, no matter how difficult. Paul can be content in any situation— even prison— through the encouragement of Christ and his fellow Christians. Jesus gives him strength when he has none left of his own.

The truth of this message is what resonated with Javier almost two thousand years after Philippians was penned. When Javier found himself imprisoned by grief after the death of his mom and so angry at the God he thought refused to heal her, this message of hope in the midst of pain was a healing balm for his soul.

Many people call me a heretic, a Bible-hater, and all kinds of other ridiculous things, but the truth is that I believe strongly in the power of Jesus working through Scripture to promote wholeness and flourishing in our lives. I care about it so much that I have dedicated my life to pastoring my congregation in Austin and helping people everywhere read the Bible more accurately. I even wrote a book about it.

Bad Bible interpretation hurts people, but the answer to bad Bible interpretation isn’t throwing Scripture away. The answer to bad Bible interpretation is good Bible interpretation, because good Bible interpretation helps people.

This is what Javier learned and it’s what so many of us have experienced, too. We really can experience hope in the midst of pain, joy in spite of hardship, and peace that surpasses all understanding through Jesus. Sometimes it comes in the form of a calming presence within us— the Holy Spirit comforting us in times of need. At other times it comes in the form of our community around us— folks offering tangible support when we are going through hard times.

It’s not all up to us. We don’t need to just rely on our own strength. Just like Paul, we can endure all things— any circumstance— every situation through Jesus Christ and our community who strengthen us.

Here’s my advice:

1. Seek out support from Jesus and your community when you are in need.

2. Offer support to your neighbor when they are in need.

It really is that simple. And the next time you see or hear Philippians 4:13 taken out of context, remember that the truth is so much better than an inspirational quote or motivational catch-phrase. This verse is a promise that Jesus is always with you, working for your good through the Holy Spirit and your community, no matter what life throws your way.

“Prayer For All Needs”

A Prayer from Saint Clement of Alexandria

We beg you, Lord, to be our help and our support.
Free us from our troubles; take pity on the lowly;
raise up those who have fallen;
give help to the poor, health to the sick,
and bring home those who have wandered away.

Feed the hungry, ransom captives,
give strength to the weak and courage to the faint-hearted.
Let all peoples come to know that you alone are God,
that Jesus Christ is your son, and that we are your people
and the sheep of your flock.

For by your acts you made visible the everlasting structure of the Universe
and set the Earth on its foundations.
For all generations you have been faithful and just in your judgements,
and wonderful in your power and majesty.
Wisely you have created, and wisely you have kept things in being.
All that we see shows your goodness;
to all who trust in you, you are faithful, kind, and merciful.

Come, Lord, let your face shine upon us
so that we may peacefully enjoy all good things.
May your powerful hand be a roof over our heads
and may your strength preserve us from all wrongdoing.
Give peace and harmony to us and to all the inhabitants of the Earth,
as you gave them to our fathers who called on you with trust and faith.

You alone can give us these gifts and confer these favors on us.
We put our trust in you through Jesus Christ,
our high priest, the guardian of our souls.
Through him be glory and majesty to you now
and through all generations until the end of time.
Amen.

There is something really incredible in knowing that these words from Clement have been prayed by literally billions of Christians in every city and language around the world. Like an old trail through the woods, our siblings in Christ have walked this difficult road so many times that it’s become smoother for us.

We can look in front of us and see the footsteps of those who have come before and be reminded that we can keep walking in faith, too, because the same Holy Spirit that lived in them lives in us. And we know, just like they did, that we can endure all things through Jesus Christ who gives us strength.

All of the content available at Public Theology is for those who identify as Christian, as well as those who might be interested in learning about a more inclusive, kind, thoughtful Christianity. To receive new posts and support the work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

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We are happy to cover subscription costs for anyone who needs it but can’t afford it at this time. If you would like to join the Public Theology community and gain access to our paid subscriber content (which we keep behind a paywall for the privacy and connection of our community) but cannot afford to do so, please message Amy Lambert directly.

Lastly, personalized and signed copies of Zach’s debut book, Better Ways to Read the Bible, are currently on sale through Zach’s website for $25 + shipping. It’s also available wherever books are sold. We are currently hosting a giveaway for anyone who buys a copy of the book between 6/8/26 and 8/12/26. Click here to enter!

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We are happy to cover subscription costs for anyone who needs it but can’t afford it at this time. If you would like to join the Public Theology community and gain access to our paid subscriber content (which we keep behind a paywall for the privacy and connection of our community) but cannot afford to do so, please message Amy Lambert directly.

DISCLAIMERS

1. I am not a professional counselor, doctor, therapist, psychologist, or an expert of any kind in this area. However, I am a former Southern Baptist kid (and Pastor’s wife) now living a healthier version of faith in adulthood. A huge part of that journey was learning how to hold healthy boundaries in light of the “forgive and forget” messaging I learned and deeply internalized as a kid. I’ve spent the better part of the past decade in therapy talking mostly about religion and boundaries– do with that what you will.

2. The information I’m sharing here is not intended for anyone in an abusive situation. If you are suffering abuse (or questioning if it is abuse), please get help.

   The National Domestic Violence Hotline:
   Call 800.799.SAFE
   Text START to 88788
   You can also chat online

3. This article is not about how to cut off family members or deal with those from whom you are currently estranged. Family estrangement is a very difficult situation and I have absolutely no qualifications to speak on that topic. If you find yourself in this situation and struggling, I’m very sorry. I’m sure that you have handled it in the best way you know how and have probably still suffered for it.

4. Lastly, these words are not meant to be prescriptive but I hope they are encouraging. If you find yourself in need of some support as you figure out what it means to take care of yourself in the midst of other (non-abusive) people’s expectations and opinions, know that you are not alone, you have options, and you have autonomy.

Last month my husband was named as a dangerous progressive pastor who is trying to talk teens out of real1 religion.

On a podcast I’ve never encountered (although it’s fair to say that I’m not listening to any parenting podcasts, much less Conservative Christian ones), the podcaster asked his guest, “Who are some of the new names that if you see your kid reading this book or watching this YouTube channel, like, pay attention.” Zach was the second person named as someone to watch out for.

Hear me out: I’m sure I’m biased as I’m married to and actually like , but the notion of him being some super villain out to taint the faith of American teenagers is wild. He is a church planter and engaged local pastor. Zach has committed his life to helping people stay in church if at all possible, but sometimes staying means reconsidering and rearranging and this is a bridge too far for these folks.

I keep imagining a teenager laying on their living room couch, drinking a diet coke, eating takis, and reading Better Ways to Read the Bible on a summer afternoon while their parents spiral about the dangers of exposure to new ideas about how to experience a healthy and vibrant faith.

LOL YOU GUYS.

Of all the dangerous, scary, or harmful things a teenager could be doing, reading a book about the Bible does not even come close to making the list.

While I find this “fear” funny, these people seem to want their listeners to be genuinely afraid of their kids reading a book about the Bible that doesn’t frame it the way they have sold it to them. They are pitching deconstruction as a rebellious act rather than a faithful reconsideration. It is either their way or heresy.

I’ve been out of that world for a long time now so it’s easy to forget how desperate many people are to not only cling to their very specific version of Christianity but to make sure their kids do, too. They’re demonizing anyone who says, “You know what? There might be a better– or just different!– way of reading Scripture.” They cry, “Heretic!” and “Wolf in sheep’s clothing!” when they see someone who doesn’t agree with their very narrow view of Christianity. They shame anyone who is brave enough to reconsider while simultaneously decrying the decline of critical thinking skills in America.

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We are happy to cover subscription costs for anyone who needs it but can’t afford it at this time. If you would like to join the Public Theology community and gain access to our paid subscriber content (which we keep behind a paywall for the privacy and connection of our community) but cannot afford to do so, please message Amy Lambert directly.

Introducing our July Book of the Month!

Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Nation by (a New York Times Bestseller!)

It is such an honor to feature Jesus & John Wayne here with all of you. If you grew up in white evangelicalism, I can’t overstate how much J&JW is the story of our lives. For example: this is a picture of my wife when she was seven years old.

A John Wayne impersonator visited her church in 1996 as he toured the country, something he did for four decades. He preached a combination of Christianity and militant masculinity (literally Jesus + John Wayne) that pervaded the first twenty-five years of our lives, a mixture of right wing politics and conservative Christianity.

Unfortunately, my wife’s story is not unique. You may have experienced a similar brand of Christianity and are trying to figure out where to go after deciding it’s no longer for you. You aren’t alone. After we heard from Kristen Du Mez at our church, Restore Austin, in 2021 I hosted an open Zoom discussion for anyone wanting to talk about the themes of J&JW. I heard story after story of the damage this militant masculinity has caused.

I heard from a young man who has a strained relationship with his dad because he didn’t love rough sports. He said, “I just wish the church hadn’t taught us that being masculine meant hitting people on the football field, then maybe my dad and I would be closer.”

One woman talked about the strained relationships in her family after she questioned their enthusiastic support of Donald Trump in 2016.

Another person said that she and her spouse feel like they’ve been duped their whole lives.

One guy talked about finally getting connected to community at a local church only to be ostracized when he voiced concerns about gun violence. “They are a real Bible in one hand and AR-15 in the other kind of group. They don’t even talk to us anymore.”

Story after story after story. It was difficult for sure, but it was also beautifully therapeutic. We laughed, cried, and encouraged each other. I’ve rarely experienced a truer form of “bearing each other’s burdens” than I did on that call.

At the end of the interview, I read the last sentence of J&JW: “What was once done might also be undone.” I then asked Kristin where we go from here.

She talked about the importance of courageously telling the truth and creating safe spaces: this is exactly what we are trying to do both here at Public Theology and at our church, Restore. I am proud of what we are all accomplishing together.

It’s easy to get discouraged, but this book (and that call) can give us hope. We have a long road ahead of us if we want to move the white, American church back toward the way of Jesus, but it’s possible. As Kristin said, what was once done can also be undone, we just need to do it together.

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Last year was the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea, the first major ecumenical council of the Christian church held in modern-day Turkey in the year 325 AD. Its primary purpose was to settle a dispute that had arisen among Christians about the nature of the Trinity, but what famously came out of this council is what we now call the Nicene Creed.

Some of you have never heard of the Nicene Creed and others of you come from traditions where you recited it every Sunday. You may even unknowingly know parts of it as Rich Mullins’ song “Creed,” which has been covered by Third Day and Shane and Shane. It starts out like this:

It goes on to talk about Jesus’ incarnation, death, and resurrection, the Holy Spirit and the church. For seventeen centuries, Christians around the world have gathered together and recited this creed. Think about how many Empires have risen and fallen in those 1700 years:

• The Roman Empire

• The Byzantine Empire

• The Ottoman Empire

• The British Empire

Countless kingdoms, nations, and regimes that once seemed untouchable have all come crashing down. Think about how many Kings and Presidents, dictators and wannabe dictators have come and gone. Tyrants who thought they were untouchable and leaders who thought their power would last forever have all been reduced to footnotes in our history books.

And yet, our faith remains. Empires crumble and thrones collapse, but the Kingdom of God still endures. Rulers rise and fall, but Jesus outlasts them all. History has a way of reminding us that no empire is eternal and no leader rules forever. Especially in chaotic times like these, we need to be reminded of that truth.

Sometimes it helps to take the long view, because when we zoom out from our current moment, we see that God has always been at work through those who pursue love, justice, and mutual flourishing in the world, and that important work has overcome every empire.

The biblical authors are also quick to remind us that God is often at work in the places we least expect: not in halls of power, but in little towns like Bethlehem; not through conquering kings, but through shepherds and carpenters and young moms; not through those at the center of society, but through those pushed toward the margins.

In fact, when God chose to put on flesh and move into the world he created in the person of Jesus, he didn’t arrive in a palace with pomp and fanfare. He was born to a poor family under imperial occupation. He grew up in a provincial town people had written off. And throughout his ministry, Jesus consistently moved toward those society had overlooked, excluded, or abandoned.

We see this in the story of Jesus raising a widow’s son.

Throughout Scripture, we often see Jesus “moved with compassion” when someone needs help, but this story is a little bit different. Most of the examples provided in the Bible show people coming to Jesus with a request. In fact, right before he meets this widow, a Roman centurion approaches Jesus and pleads with him to help his sick servant who was on death’s door.

But in this story, Jesus is walking toward the gates of a town called Nain when he stumbles upon a funeral procession. The only son of a widow has just passed away, but his mother doesn’t make a request of Jesus. In fact, the biblical authors don’t record her saying anything at all. And how could she? This widow has already lost her husband and is now overcome with grief at her only son’s funeral. I picture her weeping so hard she can’t speak.

And yet, even without a direct request, Jesus comes to her aid. His response is so beautiful.

Jesus’ response here is not only beautiful, it’s instructive. Jesus does three things that give us a model for how we should respond when we happen upon someone who needs help:

1. See

2. Move

3. Help

Let’s give some imagination to what it might look like to put these three actions into practice in our everyday lives.

1. See

This is the first step. If we don’t get this right, nothing else matters. We can’t move toward needs and help meet them if we don’t have eyes to see. And remember, this isn’t just about seeing a problem, this is about seeing a person.

Luke 7:13 says, “the Lord saw her.” It doesn’t say, “the Lord identified the issue” or “the Lord pinpointed the problem.” It says that Jesus saw her: a person in need, not a problem to be solved. This is the consistent practice from Jesus— he doesn’t see people like problems to be fixed or projects to be managed. He treats people with dignity and respect as image-bearers of God.

Far too many of us are walking around with metaphorical blinders on, either unable or unwilling to see the people around us. We focus on issues to debate or content to consume and end up missing the human beings right in front of us. And when this happens, even our attempts to help can be hollow or even harmful. We cannot skip this first step.

Notice that Jesus doesn’t immediately jump into action when he comes face to face with this funeral procession. He sees the widow, he’s overcome with compassion for her, and he offers words of comfort. Jesus doesn’t blow by her emotional state so he can fix what’s broken. He starts with comfort and care. Sometimes we are so ready to solve a problem that we don’t truly see the person in front of us. Our first step should always be to slow down and actually see the human being who needs our help.

2. Move

We must first see the person in need but we can’t stop there, otherwise we risk becoming passive observers— people who notice pain but never move toward it. This risk is especially pronounced in our social media centric culture. We are constantly exposed to people’s pain and suffering and scroll by without much thought. We’re exposed to so much.

When we are conditioned to scroll by people’s pain online, it makes it that much easier to walk by people’s pain in real life. We might have a momentary flicker of compassion, but it comes and goes without us actually moving toward the person in need.

Luke writes that Jesus wasn’t just compassionate toward this widow. Jesus was “moved by compassion” toward her. Did you know that Jesus stops to help someone in need more than fifty times throughout Scripture? Allowing his compassion to move him toward folks in need is one of Jesus’ core characteristics.

“God’s ways are higher than our ways not because he is less compassionate than we are, but because he is more compassionate than we can ever imagine.”

Rachel Held Evans

Jesus shows us that it’s not enough just to see people, we must move toward them. We must allow ourselves and our busy schedules to be interrupted when somebody needs help.

Jesus doesn’t just see this widow from a distance, he closes the gap. He steps into her grief. He moves toward her. This is the invitation for us, too. Not just to be aware, not just to feel something, but to actually move toward people in their pain. This is the pattern we see all throughout Scripture:

• The Good Samaritan bends down to help the wounded man.

• The father runs toward the prodigal son even when he’s a long way off.

• Philip walks right up to the Ethiopian eunuch’s chariot.

• Jesus reaches out and embraces the poor, the sick, and the marginalized.

Over and over again, Jesus and his followers don’t stay at a distance— they move toward people who need support. But seeing and moving aren’t enough by themselves.

3. Help

This final step is the least prescriptive because every situation is different and the ways we can help are numerous, but Jesus’ actions in this story help give us imagination for what tangible help can look like. Jesus offers help to the widow in three ways:

1. He comforts her in her grief

2. He resurrects the young man from the dead

3. He centers the marginalized woman

I know what you may be thinking when it comes to Jesus raising the young man from the dead:“I can’t do that.” But the principle here is that we must do whatever we can to meet someone’s immediate need.

If someone is hungry, we give them food. If someone is hurt, we take them to a doctor. If someone is lonely, we sit with them. And so on.

Again, this plays itself out a in a bunch of different ways based on the circumstances, but the takeaway for us should be that we do our best to meet the immediate need just like Jesus did. And Jesus didn’t stop with the obvious need! He sees another way he can help.

The most often overlooked part of this story is how Jesus centers the marginalized woman. In that society, women—especially widows—were oppressed, overlooked, and often left without protection or status. In fact, Luke goes out of his way to describe just how dire her situation is.

Since women in this patriarchal world were fully reliant on the men in their lives, the loss of both her husband and only son means this woman has been left without any means of support. This widow is in one of the most marginalized positions possible.

Which is why it’s so important that Jesus doesn’t just raise her son from the dead, he openly honors her, too. Jesus’ choice to approach her so publicly— in front of both the crowd following him and the crowd at the funeral— means that no one could miss what he was doing.

Jesus is lifting her out of invisibility and placing her at the very center of the story for all to see. In a moment when the crowd could have focused on the miracle, Jesus makes sure they see her, too. Yes, Jesus gives her son back, but he also gives her a place of honor within her community.

“She who is husbandless and sonless and in mourning, she who epitomizes the ‘poor’ to whom Jesus has come to bring good news, is the real recipient of Jesus’ compassionate ministry. In fact, it is not too much to say that “healing” in this instance, although it entails the miraculous raising of this young man from the dead, should be interpreted as the restoration of this woman within her community.”

Joel Green

This is our calling too: not just to meet immediate needs, but to look for the deeper ways we can affirm someone’s dignity as an image-bearer of God. We must use whatever power or privilege we have to make sure people on the margins are seen, valued, and included.

This story isn’t just about a miracle in a small town called Nain, it’s about the heart of God being revealed in the person of Jesus: a God who sees us when we’re struggling, moves toward us in compassion, and helps meet our needs. And above all, we see a God who is with us.

1700 years ago, Christians gathered to declare what they believed about this God. Since then, empires have risen and fallen. Kings, presidents, dictators and tyrants have come and gone. Nations that once seemed untouchable have faded into history. But this truth remains:

God is with us, for us, and faithful to us. And through Christ, God has come to help his people.

This has always been the case. And now, through the Holy Spirit, God is at work in and through us, too. When we see people, when we move toward people, and when we help people, we are participating in the work of God in the world. We are being the hands and feet of Jesus. We are the living expression of “God has come to help his people.”

So it’s not just about what Jesus did back then, it’s about what Jesus is still doing right now through ordinary people like us. Empires will keep rising and falling, leaders will come and go, and the ground will keep shifting beneath our feet, but this is what endures: God is with us and God has come to help us. So when you are feeling overwhelmed by the violence and corruption that pervades so much of the world around us, I want you to remember two things:

1. God’s love outlasts them all.

2. And every time we truly see someone, move toward them in compassion, and help meet their needs, we are the embodiment of God’s love for the whole world to see.

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If you enjoyed this post, you might enjoy Zach’s book, Better Ways to Read the Bible. To celebrate the book’s first birthday, Zach is hosting a virtual book club during the month of July! Mark your calendars: 7/16, 7/23, & 7/30 from 7:00-8:30pm Central Time. Please complete this form for more information.

Lastly, we are happy to cover subscription costs for anyone who needs it but can’t afford it at this time. If you would like to join the Public Theology community and gain access to our paid subscriber content (which we keep behind a paywall for the privacy and connection of our community) but cannot afford to do so, please message Amy Lambert directly.

The United States of America turns 250 years old today. For many of us, today is complicated because we are holding so many different feelings in tension.

We love the promise that all people are created equal, but we hate how often that promise has been denied to women, Black folks, Indigenous peoples, LGBTQ+ folks, immigrants, disabled people, and the poor.

We love the economic prosperity that exists in America, but we hate the greed and wealth inequality which causes over 14 million children to go to bed hungry every night.

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All of the content available at Public Theology is for those who identify as Christian, as well as those who might be interested in learning about a more inclusive, kind, thoughtful Christianity. To receive new posts and support the work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

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The first time I prayed as my true self was when I became a person whose body, name, and love had finally stopped apologizing for existing. For some reason, I expected the room to go cold because the judgment I had been hearing about “my lifestyle” had taken a true stronghold in my life. I had been told, in a hundred small ways, that God met me on the condition that I keep certain parts of myself in the dark, so I braced for the silence of a God who had left. However, what I found instead was the same warmth that had been there my whole life, waiting, patient, a little amused that I had ever thought I could scare it off.

I am queer, I am trans, and I love Jesus. I want to say that out loud before I complicate any of it, because the complication only matters if the affirmation is real. So let me be clear: this is not a story about leaving the faith to save myself. It is a story about the faith being bigger than the people who tried to hand it to me with conditions attached.

Zach has written a whole book about how the Bible gets turned into a weapon, and how it can become a tool for healing instead. I read it as someone who has been on the receiving end of the weapon. I know what it feels like to have a verse aimed at you, to watch a text get lifted out of its world and pressed against your chest like proof that you are a problem to be solved. When you read the Bible through the lens Zach calls flourishing, the verses that were used to exile me stop reading like a verdict and start reading like someone else’s fear, dressed up in borrowed authority.

When I stopped reading Scripture as a list of ways I might be disqualified, I started actually meeting Jesus in it.

Jesus, who kept finding the people the religious establishment had sorted into the “outside” pile, and who kept treating that sorting as the actual sin. Who let an unnamed woman argue him into a wider mercy and then praised her for it. Who touched the people you were not supposed to touch, ate with the people you were not supposed to eat with, and seemed constitutionally incapable of leaving anyone in the category the system had assigned them.

I did not have to smuggle my queerness past that Jesus. He was already standing on the far side of every line I had been told not to cross, waving me over.

Ironically, true repentance, for me, did not look like becoming straight or becoming a man again. It looked like turning around and walking back toward the person God had been calling by my real name the whole time.

I know how this sounds to some of you, because I used to be on the other side of it. I am not interested in pretending the disagreement is small or that everyone arrives here easily. The question underneath all of it is not really “what does this verse say?” It is “what kind of God do you believe is on the other end of the verse?” If you believe in a God whose first move toward difference is rejection, then no amount of careful exegesis will land, because the conclusion was decided before the reading began. But if you believe that the God revealed in Jesus runs toward the margins rather than away from them, then the presence of a queer person who loves that God is not a contradiction to be explained. It is exactly the kind of thing that God has been doing the entire time. The thing God has been doing my entire life.

People sometimes ask me whether it is exhausting, holding these two things at once, the faith and the queerness. But my exhaustion is over. The exhausting part was the years of holding them apart, spending all that energy keeping God in one room and myself in another, certain that if they ever met, something would break. But when they met, nothing broke. The only thing that shattered was the small, frightened theology I had been handed, the one that needed me to disappear in order to feel safe. I do not miss it. I have a bigger God now, and a truer self, and they get along beautifully.

So if you are reading this from inside the in-between, loving Jesus with your whole heart while some part of you stays braced for the silence of a God who might leave, I want you to hear this from someone who also expected that silence and never found it. You are not a problem the gospel has to work around. You are exactly the kind of person it was always running toward.

What would it change, for you, to read the next hard verse as if the God behind it was already on your side?

Lana

serves as the Executive Director of Operations for Transmission Ministry Collective, a community dedicated to cultivating the full spectrum of trans flourishing. In their support groups, online community, church education programs, and mutual aid network, they are continuing the work of those who came before us, building the places where trans people can discover God without having to lose themselves first.

This June, two of TMC’s community members have partnered to offer a $10,000 match challenge with a goal to raise $20,000 this Pride. If you belong to an affirming church, consider dedicating one or more of your Sunday offerings to TMC this month. If you are an individual, or an ally, consider setting up a recurring gift. https://transmissionministry.com/partner/donate/

If this article resonated with you, please follow , subscribe to Like Quiche (her Substack), give to Transmission Ministry Collective, and restack or share this post.

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The separation of church and state is vital to any healthy democracy. The Establishment Clause in the First Amendment of the Constitution was put in place to ensure that all people would be free to worship in accordance with their personal beliefs and no religion would be forced upon anyone.

This principle is not anti-Christian. Far from it. This principle is deeply necessary for religious freedom and ensures that Christians (and other religious adherents) have the ability to practice their faith without government interference.

The moment the state starts privileging one religion, it begins to marginalize every other religion. And the moment the state is allowed to decide which version of Christianity gets taught to children, it is also allowed to distort, flatten, and weaponize the faith many of us hold sacred.

For instance, Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton is one of the driving forces behind this new law. He may call himself Christians just as I do, but we do not practice our faith in the same way. I stand opposed to Paxton’s version of Christianity which seeks to use the name of Jesus to justify violence toward immigrants, strip rights from LGBTQ+ folks, punish women, defund social services, criminalize poverty, execute people, and many other things I find directly in conflict with my faith in Christ.

To be blunt, Ken Paxton is one of the very last people I want interpreting the Bible for my children.

Legislators in the state of Texas have recently turned their back on the Constitution in an attempt to enshrine a dangerous form of Christianity (Christian Nationalism) into law. As a Christian, a pastor, a lifelong Texan, and the father of two children enrolled in public schools in this state, I am completely opposed to this new law.

Public schools serve children from all kinds of families: Christian families, Jewish families, Muslim families, Hindu families, Buddhist families, atheist families, agnostic families, and families who are still figuring out what they believe. Those children’s religious ideologies do not belong to the state. This should not be a controversial opinion among conservatives. In fact, religious freedom and family autonomy are core tenets of conservatism!

If you’re a Christian genuinely wondering why it’s bad for the state of Texas to require Bible study in public schools, imagine how you’d feel if your family lived in New York City and Mayor Mamdani required Quran study in public schools. To put it another way, most Christians defending Texas’ actions would immediately understand the problem if the religion being privileged were not their own.

To be clear: I love the Bible. I read it every day, teach it every week, and wrote an entire book about it. But the Bible should not be weaponized by the state and forced upon anyone, especially children. As Christians, we should be the first to reject this. Not because we are ashamed of our faith, but because we know true faith never uses coercion.

If Christians want more children to know the Bible, we should start by reading it faithfully in our own homes, teaching it humbly in our churches, and embodying it publicly through lives marked by compassion, justice, forgiveness, and love. We should live out the teachings of Jesus by feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger, protecting the vulnerable, standing with the marginalized, and loving both our neighbors and our enemies.

Remember, Jesus never asked Rome to mandate his teachings. He said, “Come, follow me.” And there is a world of difference between an open invitation and required indoctrination.

All of the content available at Public Theology is for those who identify as Christian, as well as those who might be interested in learning about a more inclusive, kind, thoughtful Christianity. To receive new posts and support the work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

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If you liked this post, you may also enjoy Zach W. Lambert’s book, Better Ways to Read the Bible. We are hosting a free virtual book club in July for anyone interested!

Lastly, we are happy to cover subscription costs for anyone who needs it but can’t afford it at this time. If you would like to join the Public Theology community and gain access to our paid subscriber content (which we keep behind a paywall for the privacy and connection of our community) but cannot afford to do so, please message Amy Lambert directly.

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We are happy to cover subscription costs for anyone who needs it but can’t afford it at this time. If you would like to join the Public Theology community and gain access to our paid subscriber content (which we keep behind a paywall for the privacy and connection of our community) but cannot afford to do so, please message Amy Lambert directly.

American Christians are known for their certainty:

• What’s right and wrong

• Who’s in and out

• Why they’re correct and everyone else is probably going to hell

I spent the first twenty-three years of my life in the Southern Baptist Church. I played on the church lawn as a kid, tried my best to please God as a teen in the youth group, and eventually found myself fulfilling the role of pastor’s wife in an SBC megachurch. Seeing the ins and outs of church as business was too much for my husband and myself and we peaced out of the SBC in 2012.

It’s been a wild ride since. Our departure catalyzed a decade-long deep dive into what I believed and why. I went through this process alongside my husband, previously an SBC pastor, although I believe his process was quicker and externally motivated— it’s hard to lead a church when you don’t know what you believe.

Many staunch Evangelicals continue to criticize the process of deconstruction, claiming that it’s for those who are weak minded or concerned with being trendy. This take on deconstruction is misinformed and/or fear based at best and somewhere along the spectrum of disingenuous to malicious at worst. As says in his book, no one wakes up one day and decides to question everything they know at the risk of being excommunicated from their faith communities and, in some cases, cut off from their families.

You don’t question what’s working or fix what isn’t broken. But for so many of us who grew up in faith traditions bound by certitude (or chose to join later in life), faith as we knew it stopped working. It became untenable. We eventually saw or experienced something that came into conflict with our system of beliefs and demanded our attention no matter how hard we tried to ignore it and stay the course. I’ve written about several aspects of my deconstruction and reconstruction process like why young Christian women are actively participating in the campaign against their own rights, how the way we talk about (and view) God matters, how purity culture damaged an entire generation of young Evangelicals, and why the gospel has to be good news for everyone if it is good news at all.

Ten years is a long time. It was a difficult road, often terrifying and lonely. It wasn’t linear— it bobbed and swooped and circled back in unpredictable and, frankly, annoying ways. The certainty I had experienced as an Evangelical Christian fell out from under me like a magician pulls a crisp, white cloth from a freshly set dinner table. The elevator was in free fall and I couldn’t find the ground.

If you grew up in a similar environment, you may know what I mean. If not, it’s hard to accurately explain or adequately understand. Think of it as losing all faith in a political party or employer that you once supported with your whole self, then add the stress of believing that you have not only compromised your belief and been ostracized from your community, you are also now going to spend eternity in a conscious state of torment for doing so.

It’s been fifteen years since I took the leap. I’m mostly on the other side now but the fear of being wrong about it all— and paying for it literally forever— occasionally creeps back in. No matter how much I have read or prayed or talked to my therapist about it, those moments still come. With less fanfare and fear, and I’m equipped with the skills I need to identify and get through them, but still. I imagine they will pop up every now and then until I die. We shall see.

The fear of stepping outside the bounds is real. It’s visceral. There were years of attending church where I spent more Sundays than not on the brink of a panic attack. Certain spaces and experiences still throw me and I can’t pinpoint exactly where and when these things will happen.

It happened last week when I met one of my husband’s pastor friends and he told us about his own process of leading a church through acknowledging and advocating for the dignity and equality of all people. Over teriyaki chicken and tea, I felt the tension clench in my chest and my mind start to slip off into something safer. That experience is apparently still too painful for me to remember without feeling it in my body. It’s been noted and tucked away, and maybe I’ll come back to it someday. Maybe not.

And while that deconstruction process felt like it might actually kill me at times, I know it was worth it. I can go to church again (when I want to). I know what I believe and that I don’t have to tell you about it! Because God is big enough to hold it all.

Do I want to know what you think about hell or your end times theology or who may have written whichever book of the Bible? Nope! I truly don’t care. I want to see how your theology impacts how you treat the people around you. And if it isn’t in alignment with what Jesus taught about loving God and loving others (every single last one of them), I don’t care to listen to your reasons why you believe what you believe.

Because our faith must be lived out through our actual mouths, through our hands and feet, through our love and concern for every other person on the planet. (It would be nice if you cared about the planet, too.) I have heard enough arguments for faith to last a lifetime. I truly could not care less about if the stories of the Old Testament are literal or what Bible translation is closest to the original language. But I also don’t care if you do! We’re all adults here.

In losing my certainty I figured out what I believed, but that became much less important to me than I imagined. I gained something more important than merely a different defendable, dogmatic set of beliefs: I found a faith that is less concerned with right belief than the people who hold those beliefs. Coerced conversion will always be less compelling than care.

It turns out that deconstruction is actually a faithful process, good and true and full of mystery. It’s learning that what I believe (or you believe) pales in comparison to the message of grace and inclusion preached by Jesus. Belief only matters as much as any person believes that I actually mean that I am working toward loving more fully and indiscriminately because of my faith, not in spite of it.

People are tired of the hypocrisy of Christians who say they believe in a loving and powerful God who somehow needs to be defended by exclusion, hatred, and even violence. The ruse is up. The endgame of a “faith” system in which everyone holds the exact same beliefs is not faith at all. It’s an interest-based club. Sometimes it’s even a cult. Churches that require cognitive assent to a very specific set of beliefs are purposefully restrictive for the sake of control and, most likely, power for those at the top isn’t much of a faith at all.

But. A rebuilt faith founded on trust in God who doesn’t require a signed doctrinal statement on a handful of topics that aren’t actually mentioned much in scripture is wild, real, and beautiful. It’s surrender to something bigger than myself for the greater good of all people, not for the purpose of self promotion and resource hoarding at the expense of others.

I don’t want to tell you what I believe on any and every obscure topic because it would be a distraction from the big, unruly work of a superior being. Nickel and dime debates aren’t the work of the Spirit. Service is. Love is. Sacrifice is. Thankfully, those things are easy to see and don’t need to be defended.

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You may also enjoy ’s book, Better Ways to Read the Bible. We are hosting a free virtual book club in July for anyone interested!

To celebrate Better Ways to Read the Bible’s first birthday, Zach is hosting a virtual book club during the month of July! We can’t wait.

Mark your calendars: 7/16, 7/23, & 7/30 from 7:00-8:30pm Central Time

Please complete this form in order to receive the link.

Reach out with any questions. See you soon!

All of the content available at Public Theology is for those who identify as Christian, as well as those who might be interested in learning about a more inclusive, kind, thoughtful Christianity. To receive new posts and support the work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

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We are happy to cover subscription costs for anyone who needs it but can’t afford it at this time. If you would like to join the Public Theology community and gain access to our paid subscriber content (which we keep behind a paywall for the privacy and connection of our community) but cannot afford to do so, please message Amy Lambert directly.

As the old church ladies of my childhood would say, I’ve got a bee in my bonnet.

This note got a lot of attention this week:

While I mostly try to stay out of this stuff, there are times in life when our knowledge collides with current events. Like Esther before the king or Ashton Kutcher with that talent scout at that bar in Iowa, we are in the right place at the right time. This, for me, is one of those times. For better or worse, I see how all of these weird church dots currently connect and feel an annoying, unavoidable urge to help others see it, too. Consider this your Conservative Christian Culture PSA. I apologize in advance.

A little background:

I grew up in the Southern Baptist Church and felt safe inside of it for a long time. I played hide and seek in the sanctuary after school, I knew the secret passageway to the baptistry, and the old ladies asked what meals I liked most for Wednesday night dinners. I got B-list roles in the children’s choir productions, and I memorized verses and played Awana games (and won) like it was my job.

As I got a little older and started paying more attention, I noticed the cracks in the logic. I recognized that the rules only applied to some people and the consequences were distributed unevenly. It’s important to convey that I was very much a goody two-shoes, a rule follower, afraid of confrontation and not looking to upset anyone. I can also be a little awkward– I don’t always understand the secret social contracts of certain spaces and have been hurt many times by misunderstanding those unwritten rules.

For example:

When I was a senior in high school, my youth group went on a retreat which included one afternoon of free time at the mall. At one point, while walking with a group of kids and adults through the Grapevine Mills Mall, we passed a Virgin Mobile store. I had a Virgin mobile phone! And, like the good girl they all needed me to be, I was a virgin! Ever the word nerd, I joked that I should get a “Virgin” t-shirt.

My youth minister was appalled and he let me know it. How could I even consider wearing a shirt like that?! I argued, “But aren’t we supposed to be proud of being virgins?” Wasn’t this what he specifically had taught us week in and week out? I was caught off guard and genuinely confused. He grew more and more agitated but I stood my ground. I realized that there was an unspoken expectation that I must remain a virgin but never talk about it. I didn’t understand it then, but I do now.

Which leads me to:

Turning Point USA’s Women’s Leadership Summit

The fact that the TPUSA Women’s Leadership Summit and the Southern Baptist Convention’s Annual Meeting happened during the same week is, in a way, providential, because we can draw a direct line from one to the other. Pardon the pun but they are a match made in heaven.

There has obviously been a recent push from more conservative Christians for a religious revival. A push to “Make America Great Again.” To reject the godless ways of the “radical left.” And there is evidence that this is working for younger generations, although this article is worth the read:

GIRLS

The Commodification Of Christianity

Much has been said about a Christian revival among Gen Z. Some statistics are disputed, but there does seem to be something happening…

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3 months ago · 927 likes · 145 comments · Freya India

We all know that this is nothing new. The verbiage of the political right is recycled from the German reich.1 So is Christian Nationalism. Just as these divisions are as old as the church itself, the arguments about women in ministry and in the workforce (God help us all) are as old as the old men who will not shut up about them. As the Scripture says, “There is nothing new under the sun.”2

Kathryn Post wrote a fantastic article about Turning Point USA’s Women’s Leadership Summit, which unfortunately took place just south from us on I-35 last weekend. (Also, the notion that anyone would come to San Antonio to see Erika Kirk speak rather than to see the Spurs play in the NBA Finals is personally offensive to me.)

I’m going to let these pictures speak the few thousand words that I don’t feel like writing.

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Our goal at Public Theology is to support anyone and everyone who is reconsidering faith after something (or someone) has challenged their previously held beliefs. Along with providing book recommendations, spiritual support, and information about the history of the Christian faith, I want to make myself available to answer whatever questions you may have— not as an expert, but as a fellow traveler who may be a few steps ahead.

With this in mind, we will begin offering monthly Office Hours to our paid subscribers, a place where you can ask your questions, share your struggles, and have one more resource to support you in the process(es) of deconstructing and/or reconstructing. My hope is that you not only get encouragement and support from me, but that you can get to know each other better through these meetings.

The details:

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This book came from years of walking with people who loved Jesus but had been taught to read the Bible in ways that produced fear, shame, exclusion, and harm. I wrote it because I believe that Scripture can be read in better ways, with Jesus at the center and a movement toward flourishing for all people.

As a local church pastor, I am constantly asked for book recommendations. Our church skews heavily toward people who have been hurt by church or have struggled to reconcile what they were taught with what they have seen and experienced.

And while my bookshelves are filled with tons of amazing books covering a variety of topics, I hadn’t found one that met the needs of so many of my parishioners.

How can we make sense of this big, complicated collection of writings?

How can we continue to read the Bible when it has been weaponized against us and/or the people we love?

How can we trust that the Bible is good after seeing so much bad fruit come from our previous interpretations of Scripture?

What people are saying about the book:

Better Ways to Read the Bible is the book I needed when I first began rethinking faith after a number of experiences made me question what I thought I knew. It’s a guide for deconstructing and/or reconstructing Christians who want to build a healthier, more sustainable faith.

The fun news: a Giveaway!

I’d love to help more people encounter this kind of relationship with the Bible so we’re doing an anniversary giveaway! Here are the details:

All books purchased between 6/8/2026 & 8/12/2026 will be entered to win the following prizes:

• A “Better Ways” book bundle: Zach’s five favorite books about the Bible (one winner)

• A one hour zoom call with Zach to discuss any/all of the following topics: writing and publishing a book, pastoring, preaching, theology, using social media for good, deconstructing and/or reconstructing, or anything related to his work (two winners)

• An early copy of Zach and Amy’s new devotional prior to its release in Summer 2027 (three winners)

• A paid one-year subscription to Public Theology (five winners)

• A personalized and signed copy of the book (ten winners)

Additionally, everyone who purchases 10+ copies of the book will receive a one-hour workshop with Zach (via zoom) for their book club, small group, Sunday School class, or group of friends.

I know that many of you are going through this process without like-minded people (as I did), but don’t worry! We are doing a three-part zoom-based book club this summer for anyone who buys the book and wants to join. Details coming soon!

Here’s what you need to do:

1. Buy the book.
   If you haven’t gotten your copy yet, get one for yourself. And if you can’t afford it, just message me and we’ll match you with someone who wants to purchase copies for others.

   If this book helped you, would you consider buying one more copy for someone else? A friend. A pastor. A small group leader. A parent. A student. Someone who left church but still misses Jesus. Someone who wants to trust Scripture again but doesn’t know where to start.

2. Complete this form to enter the giveaway.

That’s it! We’ll send more info about the zoom-based book club soon. If you have any questions about the giveaway, you can message me or directly, or ask in the comments below. Best of luck!

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Today’s post is sponsored by Beyond Simple Answers, a series by Theology Lab, so it’s free for everyone thanks to their support. Thanks, Theology Lab!

One of the things we love most about our work at Public Theology is connecting y’all with people and resources to support you along your deconstruction and reconstruction journeys.

As we all know, this path can feel lonely, uncertain, and daunting. So many of us were taught that Christianity was simple and that answers came easily. If we were struggling with a topic or experience, it was our own fault and our problem to fix.

But the truth is that Christianity is complex, the Bible can be overwhelming, and many of our questions don’t have simple answers. Despite what you may have been told, there are many ways to experience a flourishing faith and God is working far beyond the bounds of whatever denominations and locations we come from.

We’re thrilled to introduce you to Scott Rice and Kristin Lee, co-creators at the Beyond Simple Answers podcast! These bite-sized (15 minutes!) episodes are an invaluable, accessible resource that pairs well with our work here. If you have questions about God, the Bible, church, and our part in all of it, this podcast is for you.

I met Scott Rice this spring at the Post Evangelical Collective conference in Boston. He came to my breakout session on Better Ways to Read the Bible, after which we had a meaningful conversation about faith, questions, biblical scholarship, and what it looks like to engage the Bible honestly without losing sight of Jesus.

A few days later, Scott reached out to tell me about a new Theology Lab series called Beyond Simple Answers, which he hosts with Kristin Lee and Greg Fung. The series is designed for people who land somewhere between inherited certainty and honest reconstruction—people who may still be drawn to Jesus but who no longer have room for fear-based theology, rigid answers, or faith communities that treat questions like threats.

This is exactly the kind of work we love highlighting here at Public Theology. We asked Scott and Kristin a handful of questions about the series, the limits of “simple answers,” and why curiosity can be a deeply faithful posture. We hope you’ll take the time to check out this valuable resource.

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An Interview with Scott Rice and Kristin Lee of Beyond Simple Answers

Zach Lambert: The Beyond Simple Answers series is built around the idea of “seeking a theological vision when simple answers fall short.” What were some of the “simple answers” that eventually stopped working for you personally?

Kristin Lee: The simple answer that weighed heaviest on me was regarding the question of why a loving God would create humans if God knew that even one of them would end up in hell. It seemed completely optional to bring humanity into existence, so if God foresaw that our free will would cause us to make bad choices, thus condemning even one of us (but, more likely, billions) to eternal punishment, why even create us?

I was told to trust in God’s perfect justice, that God could not allow sinful humans into heaven if we weren’t cleansed with Jesus’ blood first, which is why only sanctified believers were allowed to be with God in eternity. But eternal damnation seemed a steep price for mere mortals to pay when we hadn’t asked to be born in the first place and when not everyone had an equal chance to know Jesus. I couldn’t reconcile this simple answer with a truly good, unconditionally loving God–and I didn’t want to devote my life to serving a less-than-truly-good God. This problem partly inspired our first series at Beyond Simple Answers on God and the problem of suffering.

ZL: One thing I appreciate about your work is that it treats curiosity as something spiritually healthy instead of spiritually dangerous. Why do you think so many churches and faith spaces still struggle to make room for honest questions?

Scott Rice: Good questions, meaningful answers, and ongoing curiosity. Ideally, these should go together. I grew up in the heyday of Christian apologetics. There was a place for questions in this, often having to do with whether God exists or doubts about the Bible, and there were certainly lots of answers. There’s plenty about this I can appreciate. In retrospect, though, there was an over-confidence in not just the answers that were given but in the way we went about answering them. There was an unarticulated sense that if you just followed the arguments to their logical ends, you should not just acknowledge a truth but arrive at a place of faith. At some point I realized this approach stood at odds with God’s work in the formation of our faith.

More relevant here though, while the apologetics approach engaged with questions, it tended to minimize curiosity. Curiosity played a temporary role. And I think we missed something in that. My co-hosts at BSA, Kristin and Greg, could tell you that I have a certain suspicion of the idea of God as inscrutable mystery (for reasons I’ll leave aside here). But I do believe God is transcendent, and surely makes us wonder. Jesus had a way of keeping conversations going. I’ve come to see that curiosity, harnessed by a desire to know about an infinitely knowable God, can do a lot of good for our faith. I wonder if God gives us curiosity for the sake of having a lively faith. (See what I did there?).

ZL: A lot of people today aren’t necessarily walking away from Jesus—they’re walking away from rigid certainty, fear-based theology, or inherited frameworks that no longer hold. How do you distinguish between losing faith and outgrowing harmful theology?

KL: I’m a huge fan of what the mystic Simone Weil said about grappling with our faith, because it counteracts the fear that’s been instilled in us about questioning theological frameworks. She wrote, “One can never wrestle enough with God if one does so out of pure regard for the truth. Christ likes us to prefer truth to him because, before being Christ, he is truth. If one turns aside from him to go toward the truth, one will not go far before falling into his arms.”

This perspective is so reassuring because it reminds me that if I am earnestly seeking truth–and just as importantly, love–then I will never be far from the way of Jesus. Shedding harmful theology makes me a more committed and passionate follower of Christ because I can live into my faith with emotional and intellectual integrity. I distinguish this from completely losing faith because I still want to submit my life to the loving way of Christ. Walking with Jesus still requires a daily dying to self and a sometimes painful journey of transformation, but it is a transformation towards wholeness and joy, not fragmentation and dishonesty.

ZL: Many people were raised with a version of Christianity that feels incredibly fragile once they encounter biblical scholarship, church history, or complexity. Why do you think so many churches failed to prepare people for that reality?

SR: This is such an important and sensitive question. I’ll just touch on the biblical scholarship part because it’s most relevant to my own story and sets up conversations that we have at Theology Lab (like this one with Pete Enns).

Biblical scholarship can be challenging for us because it can upset what we think Scripture is. For example, a popular strand of such scholarship (sometimes just called critical biblical scholarship) sees many of the books of the Bible as originating not from a single author but multiple sources. For some, this may seem harmless. But if you’ve been taught Genesis was written by Moses, as God told Moses precisely what to convey, and suddenly learn this book has a more fluid and diverse–in a word, more human–origin story, that can be unsettling. What once felt like a clear-cut portrayal of reliability and truth is now more, eh, complicated?

I sympathize so much with this. This was my story. And it sheds some light for me on why churches struggle to prepare people for this challenge. Quite simply, it can feel like a lot is on the line. The Bible plays a foundational role for many of us (our churches), and so what would it mean to adjust our readings of Scripture to meet this reality? We might be afraid of what happens if we try. Fortunately, this doesn’t mean everything must fall apart. Not at all. There are ways forward–or with Zach, better ways to read the Bible–that can honor our intellects and our ongoing love for Scripture. The next question will allow me to say more about that!

ZL: One of the tensions many people face is realizing that the Bible is deeply human while still wanting it to matter spiritually. How do you approach Scripture in a way that’s intellectually honest without collapsing into cynicism?

SR: First, I love the messiness of the Bible; its internal tensions and contradictions. And second, I still believe God can (and does) speak to us through Scripture.

I don’t feel like I need to leave behind intellectual honesty when I read the Bible. But the reason this doesn’t lead me to cynicism has almost everything to do with what I believe the Bible is doing. I no longer expect the Bible to be a perfectly coherent, flawless book. But I do read it as the special testimonies of God’s people, across a range of different places and times, who are responding to God’s gracious self-revelation. Their responses include all of their humanity, from the best to the worst parts. God makes room for that. But more to the point, their responses point to a story that is good news (gospel), a story of judgment and mercy and transformation. It’s the story of Jesus and the wonderfully perplexing claim that he lives.

I love that story. I believe it. And I can readily accept its claim on my life and what it calls me to as a follower of Jesus.

ZL: In our work, like my book Better Ways to Read the Bible, I often talk about helping people move from harmful interpretations of Scripture toward more Christlike and life-giving ways of reading the Bible. What are some theological assumptions or frameworks you’ve had to unlearn in order to see Jesus more clearly?

KL: One belief that was ingrained in me growing up was that (white) American evangelicals were the arbiters of truth. If we even acknowledged that there were other Christians out there, it was to disparage or to discount their faith. There was a false belief that evangelicalism was the one true Christian tradition. Once I learned that there are so many faithful manifestations of authentic Christianity globally and historically, it released something in me: First, because it helped unblur the conflation between being a Westerner and being an ideal Christian, which had been so damaging to my soul, and second, because it made available to me a rich diversity of ways to encounter God, to live out one’s faith, and to practice community. It helped me differentiate the cultural trappings of American evangelicalism from what is truly of Jesus.

ZL: At the end of the day, what gives you hope for the future of Christianity right now—especially among people who are questioning, reconstructing, or trying to hold onto faith?

KL: It’s been encouraging to see that I am not alone! When I went through my time in the wilderness 10-20 years ago, there wasn’t any language around the process of deconstruction and reconstruction, so it felt extremely scary and lonely. I’m so grateful that nowadays, there are resources, gathering spaces, and frameworks to help those of us navigating these waters. The sense of community I now have both locally and online gives me hope that we can continue to follow Jesus in ways that are faithful to the gospel, without letting the loudest voices in the media and in politics define Christianity for us.

SR: I love what Kristin said! It’s the community. It’s the people in my faith community and adjacent ones doing the hard work of faithfulness that inspires me. Even doing Beyond Simple Answers with Greg and Kristin gives me hope. Greg is such a committed, curious-minded follower of Jesus. Kristin just published a book – We Mend With Gold – that brings together so many of the threads we’ve discussed here that show how this work is done. Few things are more powerful, more encouraging than to see this work unfolding and knowing we’re not alone.

Thanks again to Scott, Kristin, and Theology Lab for sponsoring today’s post! All of the episodes for Beyond Simple Answers (podcasts and YouTube videos) are available through the Theology Lab website. You can also learn more about their work on their new Substack @. Please check out the podcast and support the good work they are doing!

More about the authors:

Kristin Lee: Kristin is a physician as well as an author and book reviewer (@ktlee.writes on IG).

Scott Rice: Scott is the resident theologian at Highrock Church in Boston, MA. He has a ministry background and holds a ThD from Harvard Divinity School. Scott can be reached at theologylab@highrock.org. (He would love to hear from you!)

All of the content available at Public Theology is for those who identify as Christian, as well as those who might be interested in learning about a more inclusive, kind, thoughtful Christianity. To receive new posts and support the work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

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We made the decision to move a little over a year ago.

Not out of Austin– just a few miles away so that our kids could live in a neighborhood with other kids and we could reclaim our time spent driving the kids here, there, and everywhere.

The life we have been living feels actually insane. In true American Family fashion, we are busy. So busy.

We both work full time.
We run this Substack together.
Zach started a church and wrote a book and created a network of safe churches and is getting a doctorate.
We were foster parents.
We bought an old, truly magical house that always needs some kind of work.
We drive twenty minutes each way to our kids’ school and most of their activities.
We have aging, ill parents.
Zach leads a church and takes his call to care for the congregation very seriously.
I’ve lost and found two jobs this year.
We’re writing a book.
Our kids are in very time-intensive extracurriculars.

And in the midst of this all, we’re navigating some wild political times. Trying to lead through the uncertainty. Trying to help our kids understand– in ways that are appropriate– what is happening and why their friends are scared and why dad is going to see someone in an ICE detention center.

It’s a lot. And the craziest part is that we are nowhere near the only people living this way.

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