In 1845, Henry David Thoreau moved to a cabin on the shores of Walden Pond in Massachusetts. In his writing and life, Thoreau held to a fiercely individualist ethos; one critic calls it a "monstrous egoism." I don't have to give a damn. But I do.
Have to, that is.
About the gospel.
About the Church.
About Glennon Doyle Melton.
About personal calling.
After my piece on the self-fulfillment gospel (and Glennon's public announcements), I have gained lovers and haters. This isn't a surprise. Public writing is up for public disagreement, and normally, I wouldn't engage much of the public dialogue. It has usually been my decision to let every piece I write stand for itself, believing that a writer does her hard work at the front end and can't also manage every piece post-publication.
But in this case, there's seem to be something at stake in the engagement, something we can learn from disagreeing without animus, even something at stake in terms of being a Jesus follower. That's why I've been answering your emails and replying to your tweets and Facebook posts.
I want to respond more formally here on the blog to the very good questions I'm getting, but on the advice of my wise pastor, Dan MacDonald, I'm going to wait. Next week, you'll have a response to the pushback. Until then, I want to:
Confess my sin.
Talk with trusted friends.
Stop responding to social media.
Unfortunately, what isn't included on that list is eating a turkey dinner. (As you probably know, Canadian Thanksgiving has come and gone long ago.) However, lest you feel too sorry for me, there will be customary Black Friday shopping with my husband.
As always, I'm grateful you read, and I take seriously the responsibility of these words.