What I was Looking For

Every once in awhile I read something that resonates with me so deeply that I begin to wonder if the author climbed inside my head. This post is one of those. It so beautifully states how the author came to take the role of a cynic in the church and why that is a place of pain in light of our expectations of Christian community. Particularly, my heart broke ever so slightly at the last section:

"What I'm saying is that once there was a paralytic. And there were people who picked up the edges of the mat where he was lying and carried him through the crowds. In order for him to be healed, someone had to take on that weight. Someone had to haul him to the top of the roof, and lower him straight down through so that he could get to Jesus.

And before the Church is anything else, it has to be that.

People who see. People who carry.

People who will grab onto each other's sharp edges and lift."

In all those moments when I walked away from the Christian communities I'd known, the moment in which my heart felt shattered into an irreparable state, and I couldn't articulate what it was that was so heartbreaking, it was this. It was the fact that I wondered if I had taken the gospels too literally. I wondered if the stories of people carrying others, overlooking their shame and condemnation, and accepting them where they were had been written for another time. Because everywhere I went, I had to clear the hurdles of the expectations of Christian living before people would believe that I possessed a faith worthy of their investment. 

When I fell apart, becoming a spiritual paralytic, there was no one to carry me. My sharp edges were a burden too great to bear. As my struggles spiraled into a depressive grief, it was too much to ask for someone to sit in the ashes with me. Instead they visited briefly, peppering me with questions that would assign fault to me so that they would be justified in their lack of helpfulness. 

"Have you been doing your quiet time lately?" 

"How is your prayer life?" 

"Have you been reading your Bible?"

A laundry list of things to do that would supposedly fix me. Another burden that was placed solely on my shoulders. The problem is that when you can't walk, each of those burdens simply becomes another weight pressing you further into the depths of the dirt. Another question, another item to feel inadequate about. Another seed of shame and guilt sown in the depths of my heart. 

In those times I wondered what I had done wrong. I wondered if I had read the Bible incorrectly. Here I was expecting Christian community to be filled with the friends of the paralytic and instead all I encountered were the friends of Job. This must have been my fault. I must have made some mistake. My faith must not be as strong as theirs. I must not be right with God, whatever that means. 

But once again, as with so many times previously, this "help" only caused me to walk away. I couldn't find any way to heal when I felt like I was being introduced to a new sickness with each encounter. I wanted to put myself in quarantine until I could figure out how to find a place that isn't full of such pervasive condemnation. I could no longer walk and I was desperate for someone to carry me. When such help didn't arrive, I fell and when I fell, I fell away from those communities to which I thought I would always belong. 

In my darkest moments, I was looking for those people willing to carry me. Perhaps in many ways I still am. Brokenness makes you realize that faith is a state of shared community rather than one of personal devotion. We are all constantly carrying or needing to be carried. If we want to see healing, we need to take on one another's weight.

Streams in the Wasteland: An Experiment in Unreading the Bible

My effort to unread the Bible as many around me have portrayed it is at its heart an effort to deconstruct and reconstruct the text. It is an opportunity to give myself permission to read these words free of the framework they'd previously been given and explore them in new ways. In this spirit, there was a passage that recently caught my attention.

"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland."

Isaiah 43: 18-19

This is a passage that I've encountered many times before. It's not uncommon to find it on a greeting card or note of encouragement in Christian circles. Every time I've heard these verses in my past, they were used in the sense of stating the God would eliminate the wastelands and the deserts in our lives. People clung to these verses to claim that the new place God was creating in our lives were places of beauty and abundance. 

So what does that mean for those of us who live with chronic pain? How are we to envision our lives as places of beauty and abundance - places devoid of deserts? The way people used these verses became problematic for me after my injuries. They were basically claiming that I needed to move on and find my place of abundance. How can this seem true when much of my experience feels like a desert? 

These are the types of claims I sought to avoid in my recovery process. So it seems fitting to confront them in my project of unreading. Once I read these words unattached from the voices of my past I discovered a new dimension. Nowhere in this text does it claim that the deserts and wastelands will be eliminated and turned into places of lush abundance. The wasteland remains, but it will contain a place of a refuge and sustenance. There will be a place where you can be refreshed. Indeed, this is the context given if you only read the next verse in the passage.

"The wild animals honor me, the jackals and the owls, because I provide water in the desert and streams in the wasteland, to give drink to my people, my chosen,"

Isaiah 43: 20

These are the things I wish more people heard from churches and Christians in general. Rather than creating situations where people betray their own emotions and put on a happy face because they feel like there isn't room to explore their personal places of grief and desolation, that they are instead assured that in the midst of their pain and emptiness, there will be places of refuge and renewal. For those in the midst of struggles, the latter is an oasis, while the former is a mirage.

Unreading the Bible for Lent

Those of you who've read other posts on this site probably realize that I'm a big fan of the contemplative seasons of the church calendar. Lent is perhaps the best known of these. (Although this knowledge may still be lacking as most would probably identify it as the season of countless fish sandwich commercials and listening to friends frequently proclaim that they can't eat any sweets.) The most obvious way for people to return to Christian contemplative traditions is through prayer and time spent reading Biblical text. I've noticed that in the years since my Evangelical exodus, this is no easy task. I still have a Bible by my bedside and will often pick it up. But as I open the pages, I freeze. It isn't fear or anxiety that paralyze me at that moment....It's the fact that when I read the words within they leave me cold. I struggle to find what is actually there. Thick lenses of Christian culture linger, distorting the beautiful poetry within, twisting and reshaping it into the rigid and impersonal structure of an owner's manual or a to-do list. 

The words ring hollow, devoid of meaning due to the trivial ways they were employed. Worse yet, they violently lash out bringing with them their former usage, intent on shame and self-doubt within those they were used against. Every time the Bible becomes a brick to bludgeon others, more and more of its beauty is locked away, hidden from sight. The longer this continues, the more difficult that beauty becomes to recover. Sometimes I stare at the book within my hands and it seems as though its pages have been covered with mud. How do you remove such filth from paper without destroying it altogether and losing everything? 

That is why in this season of Lent, I cannot make the promise that many others do to spend more time reading my Bible. Such efforts have merely become a propagation of the abuse these words carried in my past. Rather, these 40 days will be those where I finally unread my Bible. A time where I confront the filth and misuse that has enveloped these words for so long, deconstructing what they have been fashioned into in hopes of recovering what they actually are, and in the process catching a glimpse of the beauty they once carried. 

This is the Church: San Francisco Edition

Becoming a true sanctuary...

Credit: Jeanette Antal

In partnership with the Gubbio Project,  St. Boniface Church in San Francisco allows homeless individuals to sleep in their pews. 

"This sends a powerful message to our unhoused neighbors - they are in essence part of the community, not to be kicked out when those with homes come in to worship."

The Revolving Door of Recommitment

"Maybe you've been a Christian for a while, but recently you've fallen away. You've been doing things you know you shouldn't..." Altar Calls aren't just for unbelievers. If you've spent any length of time in American Evangelical Culture, odds are at some point or another, you've probably recommitted your life to Christ. If not you, everyone has that one Evangelical friend who answers every altar call they attend. In American Evangelical Culture, committing your life to Christ is like New Year's resolutions: everybody makes them. Everybody breaks them. Everybody makes them again. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

For those of you unfamiliar with the process, an altar call generally consists of a pastor inviting people to come to the front of the church, kneel in front of the altar, and give their life to God. After providing an invitation to those who have never done so, they put out a call for anyone who has previously dedicated their life to Christ, but has fallen short of God's standards.

This endless cycle of recommitment leads me to wonder if we have part of this equation wrong. Is the cycle that we've created through this insistence on "committing your life to the Lord" one of devotion or one of shame? It seems to me that the most frequent motivation for people to return to the altar and recommit their lives to Christ isn't devotion, but rather shame and guilt over some shortcoming they have had in their lives. Is this evidence of our view that God's job is to fix our lives? And when we find that our lives still contain some degree of brokenness, we assume we must not have done this right the first time? Perhaps the people we see that answer these calls frequently aren't the ones with the least commitment, aren't those with the most lacking, but those with the largest sense of shame.

That isn't something I readily know how to fit into the gospel. It's a process that saddens me, because I feel that at this point church becomes a place where people try to hid from their pain rather than confront it and start the difficult process of working through it. They seem to be looking for a quick fix. It makes me think that Peter Rollins is onto something when he says the contemporary church reminds him of a crackhouse. As he says,

"In other words, what if the church could be a place where we found a liturgical structure that would not treat God as a product that would make us whole but as the mystery that enables us to live abundantly in the midst of life’s difficulties. A place where we are invited to confront the reality of our humanity, not so that we will despair, but so that we will be free of the despair that already lurks within us, the despair that enslaves us, the despair that we refuse to acknowledge."

 

I can't help but believe that such a place would not entertain the endless cycle of recommitment. I think such a place would release many from the burden of shame they now struggle to bear.

 

Video of Peter Rollins speaking on this topic can be found here.

 



The Moment I Knew This Was Toxic

When you choose to part ways with American Evangelical Culture, those that remain in it often speculate what is going on with you. Usually it is assumed that you are backsliding away from your faith or that you are simply bitter about some personal hurt imposed upon you by the church. I know that people have often assumed the latter about me. And while I won't deny that I have indeed been hurt by the actions of people within the church, it was something else that was a large part of my realization of just how toxic that culture had become for me...

I can clearly remember hearing the breaking news alert sound coming from the TV. I looked up to see what was so important to break into the 6pm newscast and disrupt their other stories. What I saw left me wondering if I was dreaming. It was August 1, 2007 and the I-35W bridge leading into downtown Minneapolis had just collapsed and fallen into the Mississippi River during rush hour. It was one of the most surreal scenes that was playing out in front of me. "What in the world? How does a major freeway bridge just collapse?" I thought to myself. I heard the helicopters overhead, rushing to the scene and wondered how many victims their were.

In the days to come, the scene continued to unfold. Questions would be raised about inspections, numbers of those still missing would be reported, and divers were shown searching the murky river waters to recover victims. Eventually, they came to the conclusion that thirteen people had been killed in this tragedy. Their pictures and stories greeted me from every newscast, but one stood out.

WWJB Saturday: 'Tis the Season Edition

Jingle for Jesus!

It's Been Awhile...

So I haven't posted anything in quite awhile. I didn't realize anyone had noticed until the emails started arriving. :) I'm glad that what I write resonates with some of you and that you have found value in it. I think that this virtual sounding board is valuable for my own personal, emotional, and spiritual growth, so I plan to continue it. Yet I wrestle, knowing that what I write has an audience, with ensuring that it is worthy of posting. That is one reason why I've never committed myself to daily posting. I'm an extremely contemplative person and I only want to share what I believe is beneficial and worth sharing. I'm also a rather guarded person, so at times the idea of bearing my deepest thoughts, pain, struggles, and beliefs is daunting, particularly knowing how harshly those have been judged in some of my previous religious circles. But, as with many others who've left spiritually abusive situations/communities, I understand that these thoughts and beliefs cannot remain within me for fear that they will overwhelm me. I also know that people in these situations are often led to believe that they are alone in their doubts and struggles with those faith communities. When people take the time to write to me and tell me that they are relieved to finally find someone expressing what seem to be their own thoughts, I know that I need to continue. So I will. I'll try to post more regularly in spite of my busy schedule. My hope is that you find the same strength and healing in reading this, as I have been finding through writing it.

Out of Order

I just finished reading "The Fidelity of Betrayal" by Peter Rollins. It was refreshing. After years of time spent in circles that accepted only views that fit their rigid beliefs and viewed doubt as a disease to be cured, it was nice to find someone making the argument that doubt and questioning of beliefs are not evidence of lack of faith, but rather a necessary process of further exploring faith.

There was one section in particular that stood out to me. In the book, Rollins makes the argument that the current practice of Christianity often gets the order of faith backwards. In the current culture of Christianity, the order is generally belief, behavior, belonging. That is, anyone wishing to be a part of that community must first adhere to the beliefs of that community. Once they have expressed the correct beliefs, they are invited to participate in the behaviors of that community. And only when they have provided sufficient evidence through their professed beliefs and behavior are they accepted as fully belonging to that community.

Rollins argues that the example provided in the gospels is actually the opposite and is in the order of belonging, behavior, belief.  Rather than seeking out a profession of faith, Jesus simply called his disciples to join him. He did not stand on the shore and say "Hey, you! Yeah, you! So, would you be willing to accept me as your personal Lord and savior?" before extending the offer. He simply asked them to follow him. After they had made the decision to follow him, they were welcomed to share in the behaviors of that community. They shared meals and conversations while traveling throughout the land together. It was only through these experiences that they established their beliefs about Jesus.

Their belonging wasn't contingent upon them accepting the right way of thinking about him. They belonged because they were willing to come. Their behavior and shared rituals weren't necessarily an evidence of their faith, but rather a manner of engaging in a community that would ultimately inform their beliefs.

The more I consider this idea, the more I can't help but agree with Rollins on this one.

10 Reasons Not to go to a Christian College

1. Your youth pastor went there

When the majority of your social life consists of youth group, Christian concerts, and church events, the center of your universe that incredibly hip, never gonna act (or dress) his/her age youth pastor. They are the wacky and wild beacon shining a light into the dark world of troubled teens. They are helping forgotten youth. If you want to help people, you need to be just like them! Or do you?

Unfortunately, many church kids are so entrenched in Christian culture that they can't imagine life after youth group. So they take the next best route and seek out the college that made their youth pastor so awesome to begin with. This isn't to say that the college your youth pastor attended is never going to be a good fit for you. However, if this is one of the primary reasons you're making your decision, I'd encourage you to reconsider.




2. You are pursuing a non-ministry degree

This isn't a judgement on the academic quality of non-ministry degrees offered by Christian colleges. That will vary from school to school and even between departments at the same school. Rather, it is about cost effectiveness. Yes, you can get a degree in elementary education from a private Christian school, but considering the average starting pay for teachers, would you be better off getting the same degree at a fraction of the price from a public school? It's something to consider.




3. You are pursuing a ministry degree with no clear vision or desire to work at a church.

I cannot stress this enough...when you are evaluating your school choices, be sure to get information from a variety of sources, including those outside of the institution itself. Most schools want to make sure to maintain/increase their enrollment numbers.  I know far too many people (myself included) who were reassured by their Christian university that their major would allow them a high degree of flexibility. They will say that a ministry degree is gladly welcomed to a number of non-church/ministry related fields. Let me clear that up right now....It is not. A degree in a ministry field will never be as a highly regarded among non-Christian circles. If you are uncertain as to what you truly want to do, don't just sit in your major until you figure it out. Go to a community college, get your generals out of the way, and take some time to do a little soul searching.




4. You are a woman who ultimately dreams of being a pastor's wife and/or stay at home mom.

This may sound harsh to some, but I've known these women. While studying at their Christian college, they constantly talk about how really their only dream is to be a stay at home mom and wife. They earn their four year degree, ended up married withing two years of graduating, never work a day in the field they majored in, and end up burdened with tens of thousands of dollars in school debt resulting in high monthly repayment amounts while living on a single income. If your ultimate dream is to meet a nice Christian college guy and live happily ever after with no intent to work, here's what you can do: Rent an apartment near your favorite Christian school. Starting attending church as well as the college-aged Sunday school group at one of the most popular Baptist/Evangelical Free/non-denominational church in the area. You will save tens of thousands of dollars and likely end up with the same result.




5. Everyone else in your family has gone to school there.

Never make you choice based on the perception of others or what has always been done. College is an important and personal choice and should be treated as such.




6. You want to go to a school with like-minded people.

Guess what?? There are like-minded people anywhere you go and there are people you do not think like you everywhere as well. Wearing the label of "Christian" is no guarantee that you think alike. There are countless other matters on which to disagree (politics, music, movies, denominational differences,etc.) even when you share the same basic fundamentals of faith. Christians exist at state schools as well. You are more likely to find people who think like you do by pursuing the activities/causes that interest you most rather than simply assuming all Christians will get along and agree. The exciting thing about discovering such people in non-Christian circles is that it will open your eyes to the common ground that people of differing beliefs share rather than viewing it as an "us vs. them" situation.




7. It is out of your price range.

I have come to believe that one of the absolutely most irresponsible things that Christian colleges tell prospective students is reminding them that "God will provide." My own Christian alma mater actually promotes such an idea in its marketing literature. One of the major statistics that they cite is that the financial aid department has "helped 97% of our students reduce the cost of tuition and an affordable education." Phew. Well, that's a relief....wait a minute...

In this case "affordable" is an extremely relative term. One family's "affordable" is another's "more than twice what we can afford." Apart from that, such a statistic doesn't say what kind of financial aid those 97% received. Grants will indeed reduce your tuition costs. However, when it comes to loans, you will pay for them in the long run. Odds are once you finally get those student loans paid off (I'm at nearly 8 years and counting...) you will have paid much more than the amount of the original loan.

I know it's hard when you really have your heart set on something, but don't listen to anyone who says that money shouldn't be an issue. It is, and unfortunately it is an issue that will haunt you long after you've earned your degree.




8. You don't think you'd ever be able to handle having a gay/atheist/Buddhist/alcoholic/sex-crazed/etc. roommate.

Becoming an adult isn't about being comfortable, it's about learning and growing in an attempt to be a better person. That growth will not happen if you are unwilling to interact with anyone whose beliefs may differ from your own. Also, such reasoning assumes that there are no other Christians at a public school and that there are no gay/sex-crazed/alcoholic/etc. students at conservative Christian schools. Both are a myth. The gospels never suggest that Jesus avoided contact with those he disagreed with. On the contrary, he often interacted with them. If you truly want to live like Jesus, people who are different than you shouldn't be anything to fear.




9. You fear that a secular school will corrupt your faith.

As a general rule, I don't believe in making any major decision based primarily on fear. Unfortunately there are many Christian leaders willing to play into this fear when encouraging people to choose a Christian school. A secular school is no more sure to destroy your faith than a Christian one is to strengthen it. Faith is a personal matter that needs to be invested in by the individual who possesses it. It does not fall or stand based on the label of the school one attends.




10. You want to do God's will.

That's not to say that it is never God's will for someone to attend a Christian college. I'm not much in the market for claiming to know God's will. What I mean by this is that it is a terrible idea to choose a Christian school if you believe it is the only way to do God's will. God doesn't confine himself neatly to our boxes and assumptions. Quite frankly, he doesn't care about our categories and is willing and able to work in whatever way he wants, even through people and institutions that do not bear his name. You can serve God and live out your faith wherever you are.





In the end, choosing a school is a personal decision and one that should be made based on solid research about the institution as well as a thorough personal assessment of what it is that you are looking for and wish to accomplish through schooling. As it is the time of year when many graduates are making school decisions, I wanted to share my perspective. If you attended a Christian college (or as a Christian chose not to) is there anything you would add to this list?

The Messenger is the Message

Another Easter has come and gone. This year I spent that afternoon planting seeds (literally not in the overused Christian metaphor sort of way). It seemed appropriate for the occasion. The morning was spent in church. I tend to pay extra attention to Easter and Christmas sermons, mostly because I'm always curious as to the different ways pastors choose to approach the stories their audience is the most familiar with without simply repeating themselves year after year.

This time the sermon surprised me. It wasn't the eloquent oration on resurrection and eternity that one would have expected. Rather, the pastor spent most of his time speaking on the idea of bringing life to places where there once was death and how that is the true call of Christianity. That is what the actions of Christians should always seek to do - bring life and light to dark and death filled areas. To my relief he didn't expand on that be relying on excessively cumbersome messages of spiritual metaphors in the context of evangelism. Rather the example he gave was one of love and acceptance towards others in all circumstances and the powerful impact that makes. I've been thinking about it a lot this week.

I've been thinking about it in the context of all of my personal disappointments with the American church as well as the narrative of Jesus' life we find in the gospels. The more I think about it, I keep coming back to the same thought:

The messenger is the message.



Perhaps that is the core message of Christianity when you boil it all down. Not just in the sense that Jesus is the core message of our faith, but in the sense that we are the message of Jesus to the world. Perhaps that is what Paul meant in the Bible when he said "If I speak in tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal." (1 Cor. 13:1) What if when the book of Hebrews tells us that "The word of God is living and active..." (Heb 4:12) it doesn't simply mean that reading the Bible can spark inspiration to motivate us, but also that the true word of God is meant to be lived out in an active manner as we seek to live our lives in the example Christ set...an example that spent time with the marginalized, objected to legalistic religious leaders, sought to heal people's pain, and put others before himself.

I can't help but wonder, if the messenger really is the message, what message are most churches and Christians sending to those around them?

This week I haven't been able to stop thinking about it and the more I do, the more I keep coming to the same conclusion:

The messenger is the message.

WWJB Saturday: Holy Hog Edition

Ever found yourself dying to own an inspiration figurine from the Bradford Exchange, only to realize that those girly glowing Thomas Kinkade options just aren't your style?? Do you have trouble finding the perfect Pastor Appreciation Month gift for your testosterone fueled, MMA loving preacher??

Fret no more!



via The Bradford Exchange




via The Bradford Exchange


As  you can see, this heavenly hog features multiple Jesus fish, praying hands on the back wheel, a portrait of Jesus, scroll hand grips, golden chalices, a trinity symbol, and a crown of thorns detail encircling the seat. Oh! And a giant cross on the front, because how would you know this is Christian without a cross??!?

Now, I know what you're thinking.....

"I only regret that I have but one inspirational motorcycle figure to buy for  my Lord."

But, wait! That's not all!!

Not only can you adorn your desk, bookshelf, or sermon podium with "The Holy Roller" for only $59.99 (plus S+H), you have the option to purchase a subscription now so you won't miss any future installments in the "Riding with the Lord" series. Get in with this premiere offering and then be the first of your friends/small group members to own:

"Devotion in Motion"

"Rebel With A Cause"

"Alpha and Omega"

Plus many more to come!!!!

Don't miss this amazing opportunity for spiritual growth. Your faith journey will be renewed each time you gaze at this figurine and reflect on the time Jesus climbed off the cross and hauled ass on his chopper down to Hell to defeat Satan in a cage match.

WWJBS: Tebowing Edition

Today's the day of another play off game for the Denver Broncos. To get you ready to cheer on God's chosen QB, witness to the rest of those heathen football fans, and read a little too much into the final game stats, here are a variety of Christian themed Tim Tebow products. Enjoy!

Found on ebay

You know how that song goes, right?
"Jesus draw me close. Closer Lord to the Super Bowl. Let the defenders around me fade away.
Jesus draw me close. Closer Lord to the Super Bowl.  For I desire just one more win in OT."
That is how it goes, right?
Via Mother Falcon

These jerseys are customized and have caused a bit of controversy.

                                

And of course there's a tract! How will people come to Jesus if there's no tract!??
This 6 page tract along with samples of its text can be found at  Christianbook.com

Found at Armor of Truth
And bonus! If you enter the code "WIN4GOD" you get free shipping on this one.
See what they did there??



We Won't See You, You'll See Us

Recently, I saw a video advertising upcoming revival services that will soon be held at a large church. I'm not going to post the video here, because inevitably that will only lead people who support that church to think that I am speaking out specifically against that church, which obscures my actual intent. It was a brief video that showed the pastoral staff discussing their plans and why you should join them at the revival services. Apart from my scepticism towards the idea of being able to plan a revival, there was a statement that caught my attention. While concluding his statements, the head pastor said "We'll see you at [the revival]...well, we won't see you, you'll see us."

That statement was like a bolt of  lightning suddenly illuminating my thoughts. The second I heard it, I realized that he just summed up my greatest problem and sorrow with the practice of many American Evangelical churches today. "We won't see you, you'll see us." The words fell heavy on my heart. Not because I disagree with that pastor, but because those sentiments seem to be at odds with the essence of the person of Jesus as described in the gospels. Of course, Jesus did preach to crowds, but throughout the gospels, we see him stopping to provide individual attention to many that were largely ignored by both society at large and the religious leaders of the day. The core command to love others as God loves us seemed to lie not in merely preaching to them about the gospel, but in making personal connections with them, listening to them, and doing what you can to help them. As I read the gospels, I see a Jesus that seemed to relish in those moments where he could reveal the love of God to individuals in clear contrast to the religious legalism of the day.

The teachings of the Bible seem to reinforce that point. You look at the references to caring for the poor, the widowed, the orphans. In Matthew we are told to "make disciples." Jesus didn't simply tell his 12 disciples to make a decision to follow him and walk away once they did. He spent time with them and invested in their lives. It wasn't just about them seeing him, it was about him seeing them. The New Testament enshrines the idea of servant leadership, that whoever wants to be the greatest should make himself the least. It tells us that the greatest love is that which lays down its life for others.

Now I understand what this pastor meant...that the services will be so large that he will not see people individually, although they will see him. I know he wasn't trying to dismiss people through such a statement. But he did. Unfortunately, the trend is that many choose their churches based on who they see, not who sees them. Head pastors are put up on a pedestal. In my own community there is an extremely large church who proposed breaking apart to plant a new church due to their size, so they could maintain smaller more intimate settings. The congregation refused, largely because should they break into two churches the majority wanted to stay with the current pastor and wouldn't agree to leave. Because of that, they spent their money to rebuild a massive church, one able to seat the entire population of my hometown (around 5,000) in a single service. Instances such as this make me wonder if congregations have bought into the false idea that they are there to see the church/pastors. But the beauty of the gospel is that Jesus loved and met people individually. It was in those intimate moments that he revealed his true nature, and what would come next. Some of the most profound parts of the gospel were never shouted from the rooftops, but taught among small groups of devotees.

"We won't see you, you'll see us" enshrines this concept of church as entertainment or self-help seminar. It is that ideology that launches mission trips filled with dramas and VBS programming, but does little to care for the needs of the communities to which they travel. It is that ideology that causes churches to seek to quantify their work and speak of success primarily in terms of numbers. When it is their job to see you, you have placed the burden on others to seek out the church and discover if they can find the help or fulfillment they are looking for there. You have redefined the role of church as a marketing firm rather than a service industry. I just don't see that taught as our ideal anywhere within the gospels. Jesus didn't preach to the masses and say "Find a religious institution. Enjoy their amazingly relevant preaching and cutting edge worship to feed your soul. Be sure to join a small group in order to make sure that you have a more intimate community."  Jesus didn't preach to us to find intimate community once we were involved with a group of other believers because the natural result of a gathering of followers of Christ should be building a more intimate community. Contrary to popular belief, community is best established not through shared viewpoints, but is the natural result of valuing people over programs or doctrine. No amount of programming or brand marketing will be an adequate substitute for that. It is an ideal that is simply not found within "We won't see you, you'll see us."

Hearing that pastor express such a sentiment, suddenly clarified my discontent with American Evangelical Culture. I don't believe in a gospel that is there to be seen. I believe in a gospel that sees and loves others. I don't want a church that exists in the midst of massive marketing campaigns trying to bring everyone to itself. I want a church that meets people, not to grow its own numbers, but to serve them in the example of Jesus Christ, because they believe that is the core purpose of church - putting others' needs ahead of your own. In a world where people are increasingly simply labeled as part of a certain group or statistic, isn't about time that we started seeing them as valued individuals rather than insisting that they see us?

Missing Advent - In Defense of the Church Calendar

Just before Christmas I saw a video of a hip hop dance/rap group performing during a church service. Although they were extremely talented, it really bothered me. My first thought was "That's not how you observe Advent." Apart from the major observances such as Easter and Christmas, I found very few Evangebapticostal churches that followed a church calendar. The observance of Advent is one of the major reasons I returned to a more liturgical tradition. Christmas just never seemed the same without that focus, preparation, and contemplation. I genuinely missed Advent.

Perhaps the only thing as enjoyable as pleasant experiences is the anticipation of those experiences. That is what Advent is...a season of anticipation. It is a season of quiet contemplation. It is a time where you not only reflect on the darkness, but hope for the coming of a great light. It is a time of somber preparation. When I was living in the land of Evangelicals, the Christmas season seemed to be a time of constantly singing and proclaiming that a savior has come to Earth. Every week was "Jesus is here. Jesus is here. Jesus is here." In the liturgical Lutheran tradition, each week was "Keep looking. Keep hoping. Don't give up. Your savior will come. Just hold on a little longer." until finally it becomes "God has kept His promise."

Each week for the four weeks leading up to the Christmas celebration a candle is lit as you anticipate the coming of the Savior, each with its own specific meaning.



Week 1:  The Prophecy Candle or The Candle of Hope
This candle symbolizes our belief in a God who will keep His promises.

Week 2: The Bethlehem Candle or The Candle of Preparation
This candle reminds us to prepare ourselves to receive the gift God is about to give.

Week 3: The Shepherd Candle or The Candle of Joy
This candle represents the great joy of the angels who announced the birth of Jesus to the shepherds.

Week 4: The Angel Candle or The Candle of Love
This candle reminds us that God so loved the world that he sent his only son.

The 5th Candle (Christmas): The Christ Candle
The final candle obviously represents the fulfilled promise of the coming of Christ.



But overall, I think these sum up what the entire Christmas season is truly about: 
Hope, Preparation, Joy, Love, Christ.

More than just Advent, I feel the entire church calendar keeps a flow to worship that encourages honesty in our spiritual experiences. Let me try to explain what I mean.

Have you ever known that one person that always smiles and tries to say how great things are even when the strain and near twitching of the muscles in the corners of their mouth and the slight dullness in their eyes betrays them? If you've spent anytime in American Evangelical Culture, I'm willing to bet that you do. Far too many churches within that culture promote this idea of constant happiness, never being lonely, always feeling loved, not being depressed, and never feeling abandoned if you are truly following Christ. They leave very few options for those in their congregation that feel otherwise. If they accept such beliefs, the only conclusions they are left with are: a)  it is a failure of their own faith  b) they should never let on how they feel, but just keep up happy appearances until they are "right with God." or c) they obviously don't belong in the church.

Which if any of these is consistent with biblical teaching? If you said "none of the above," I would have to agree. I have this theory. (If you know me at all, you'll soon realize that my overly analytical way of thinking lends itself to the development of many theories.) What is the mood of nearly any given American Evangelical Culture Church on almost any Sunday of the year? One of constant emotional hype, whether in the form of upbeat overly sugarcoated praise songs, or slower songs that often result in tears of joy thinking of what God has done. The congregation always seems to be either waving their hands in air in exuberance or on their knees thanking God for all He's done.

Let me be absolutely clear that I don't think there is anything wrong with those types of experiences in and of themselves. What I do think is wrong, and where I feel this culture fosters a practice of dishonesty, is that these are virtually the ONLY widely accepted emotional expressions of worship. It becomes a one note song.

What the church calendar does is guide congregations through various seasons. Some are joyful, some are thankful, some are preparatory, some are somber, and some are quiet and reflective. Easter is another great example of this. Does it make a lot of sense to be singing about Jesus conquering death on Good Friday? Or would that time better be spent thinking of the distress and sorrow of his disciples at such a time and confronting the areas in our own lives where we wonder if God will actually keep His promises?

Just as life has a range of emotions an experiences, so does the practice of liturgical worship that follows the church calendar. I don't feel happy and like rejoicing all the time, but the liturgical year doesn't demand that of me. And as I read the Bible, I find many like minded souls writing of ALL their emotional experiences whether grateful, doubtful, joyful, sad, angry, or disappointed with God. So why have we accept worship that doesn't allow   encourage that same level of emotional honesty?

I think there are a lot more people than we may realize that are desperate to hear their church say "Keep looking. Keep hoping. Don't give up. Hold on just a little longer."  and to allow them to meet God not in the confines of the parameters they have set for Him, but in the midst of their raw and sometimes ugly emotions.

Thinking Out Loud, Explaining my Absence, & Loving/Hating Christmas

I haven't posted anything here is months. It's not that I'm giving up on the endeavor. It's just that sometimes I hit this point where I wonder if I'm adding anything beneficial to the conversation. I guess that when I think of the American church culture and the manner in which it functions, it can often seem beyond repair. It is a labyrinth of fun house mirrors in which everything has been distorted for so long that no one seems to notice anymore.

This isn't about my lack of faith in Christianity. It's about my constant contemplation as to whether what has manifested itself as organized religion in the USA actually is Christianity. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that this question is often one that occupies my mind. That very question was a major catalyst for the creation of this blog. I think the entire problem is magnified by the Christmas season.

I'm coming to terms with the fact that I have a love-hate relationship with Christmas. I do certainly love the aesthetic of the season...lights reflecting off of fresh snow, the warm glow of candlelight, lush greenery and ornaments that trace family history. Theologically speaking, the core of this holiday is awe inspiring. I love the concept of reflecting on the idea that divinity can be wrapped within humanity, that out of great darkness a light can come, and that there was a moment when heaven and earth collided. Just stop and think about those things for a minute. Such ideas lead to beautiful quiet and peaceful contemplation indeed. The near futile, but beautiful experience of trying to prepare your heart to hold onto those concepts. It's one of the many reasons that Advent has always been one of my favorite seasons on the church calendar. But I look at everything around me and realize that the manner in which we celebrate does very little to reflect those ideas.

For far too many, this season is one of stress, fatigue, and picking petty fights over minor issues. (I've already told you how I feel about the "War on Christmas.") I hear people around me demanding that we "keep Christ in CHRISTmas," yet I can't help but wonder if he's ever really been part of what we're doing here. Outside of the focus on charity, I see very little of the gospel in the hustle and bustle that is passing me by. I keep searching for that beauty, finding mostly imitation, but I can't stop searching because I know it is here somewhere.

The more I think about what it would truly mean to celebrate the full implications of the Christmas story, the more I realize that we don't. I don't have a way to reconcile this. There is no conclusion to this post. But I would encourage you to withdraw from the chaos, take a moment for quiet contemplation, and consider these awe inspiring theological questions along with me.

Terrible T-Shirt Tuesday: Tact Is For Heathens Edition

c28.com

The appropriation of another community's sacred cultural items (or your own interpretation of those items) to promote your own agenda is bad enough. (More on that here.) However, today's edition of Terrible T-Shirt Tuesday also comes with  history lesson, so you can realize just how terrible it actually is.

Why is Everything Ministry?

Sometimes I think American Evangelical Culture tries too hard. Okay, pretty much ALWAYS I think that. Not just in the ways that they try to make worship like a rock concert, follow fashion trends (even if they are a few years behind), or talk in supposedly "relatable" language. I think they try too hard in the manner that they try to make everything into an excessively spiritual endeavor.

Basically anything you could ever possibly volunteer to do in a church will likely be labeled a "ministry." Raking leaves on the property? Lawncare Ministry. Baking bars or cookies for coffee hour? Hospitality Ministry. Helping pick up the bulletins people left in the pews after service?  Pew Cleaning Ministry. Answering phones at the front desk? Welcoming Ministry. Taking photos of kids at VBS for the church newsletter? Photography Ministry. Poking the people around you every time they start to nod off during the service? Alertness Ministry. (Okay, so maybe I made the last one up, but it seriously would not surprise me.)

It's not that any of these are bad things, but should they be labeled a ministry? Is the term used so flippantly that we don't really know what it means anymore?  Technically speaking, the early model of "ministry" in denominations encompassed only the official functions of the church or religion. The services of a religion were ministries. This is the definition that is still used to define the services churches offer; such as soup kitchen ministry, community service ministry, etc. But I  notice that in many instances, it is now used to define the services rendered not through the church to others, but to the church itself.  These are the "ministries" that do not directly benefit anyone but the actual church or organization the person is working/volunteering for. What I mean are things such as cleaning the building, scrapbooking photos from events, mowing the lawn. There is nothing wrong with any of those things, but should they be labeled as a "ministry?"

I've heard the claim that "our entire lives are ministry." In some senses, that is true. If our lives vary greatly from the way we behave at church functions and in our personal live that raises some questions about the authenticity of both. However, does that mean we have give everything the title "ministry?" It would be ridiculous for Christians to walk around saying "I'm just about to leave to meet up with you. I just need to finish my tooth brushing ministry duties." Although I'm sure everyone you meet in a given day is grateful that you brush your teeth every morning, doing so isn't a service to them.

In the worst case scenarios, such overly spiritual titles can come across as a cover to try to manipulate people into doing mundane or difficult jobs with no compensation by making them feel more important for doing so.  I can't even begin to imagine how absurd some of these titles look to people who are unfamiliar with church or religion.

I don't have any answers for this. In fact I think there is a lot of gray area here and no clear way to figure out where to draw these lines. I've been thinking about this a lot, after a conversation with my sister that was sparked after seeing a listing for "pew cleaning ministry." I just worry that it is like all things, the more you use the term, the less meaning it will have to people. When everything is a "ministry," it starts to seem like nothing really is.

In the end, it's easier to call everything a ministry than it is to engage with the struggle to figure out what it actually looks like to live like Jesus. It's easier to keep doing things that require those in need to come to you than to figure out how to break down barriers and actually build authentic relationships with them. It's easier to run things by your business models, requesting "ministry" volunteers than it is to wrestle with Jesus' examples of inclusiveness, simplicity, compassion, self-sacrifice, and humility.

Now if you'll excuse me, it's time for my morning dog walking ministry.

Got a problem? Church will fix it.

After college I spent a few years working at a small business owned and operated by a Christian family. Although this business did not deal with counseling or ministry in any direct way, because there were a lot of repeat customers who were often the first generations of their family to live in the USA it wasn't uncommon for them to ask employees for advice.

One of the owners had this experience rather frequently. George (not his real name) was the type of Christian that argued against the evil influence of Harry Potter, feared the influence of anything that could be labeled "liberal," and insisted on corporate prayer at the beginning of every day. He would come up with interesting theories on how to spiritually interpret occurrences in the natural world.  He (as well as the other family members who worked there) served in some sort of leadership position at his church and would sometimes be known to make phone calls to church members during business hours in order to offer them spiritual guidance and correction. His office was close to mine, so I often overheard conversations with his clients.

One day a middle aged woman came in to talk to him. She had immigrated to the US and had two teenage sons that had grown up here. She was a frequent customer of George's, and when she was finished with business she began to confide in him that she was concerned about her sons. She was especially worried about her oldest son. His grades were slipping, he was being disrespectful to her, he was caught drinking, she thought his friends were a bad influence, and she was worried that he would start doing drugs (if he hadn't been already). Having worked with teenagers in such situations before, the conversation peaked my interest and I waited to hear how George would respond.

"Yeah, hmm...that's tough. Do you think he'd be interested in coming to my church? We've got a good youth group with a lot of nice kids. He could make better friends."

The woman returned a few days later with her sons to have them meet George. I distinctly remember her asking this uncomfortable teenager, "Do you want to go to George's church?"

I remember clenching my fists. I wanted to jump into the conversation, but I wasn't supposed to have heard it at all. I had worked with kids like him before. I knew the the tension in his decisions was far more likely to lie in the difficulty he was having  in trying to live in two worlds. His parents wanted to keep the ways of their native country and he just wanted to fit in with his American friends. Add on top of that all the pressures of simply being a teenager and you've got quite a dilemma on your hands. Being a teenager is hard enough without the extra pressure of trying to juggle the expectations of two distinct cultural identities.  In my opinion, church wasn't a "one size fits all" sort of answer for this.

I recalled this story after seeing this article.  A new law in Bay Minette, Alabama will allow judges a choice in sentencing misdemeanor offenders: jail time and a fine or church attendance every Sunday. Obvious this is being challenged on the grounds of constitutionality. That's something that should be discussed, but I'm not going to address this here. The reason I bring this up is exemplified in pastor's comment in the article:

"You show me somebody who falls in love with Jesus, and I'll show you a person who won't be a problem to society but that will be an influence and a help to those around them."

One thing that I was especially struck by during my time in American Evangelical Culture is this pervasive idea that you can solve anything by bringing someone to church. Drug addiction, rebellion, depression...you name it, and church will fix it. The belief is that if you turn your life over to Christ, you will have no desire to do sinful/detrimental things.

It sounds nice, but I think such reasoning is overly optimistic. I have known of Christians (pastors even) who beat their wives and/or children, stole property, used drugs, drank while underage, raped women, murdered someone, and the list goes on. Believing in Jesus doesn't make you suddenly incapable of such things. These are all fairly extreme examples, but just think of the Christians you know (and I include myself ) who still find themselves lying, gossiping, or being selfish from time to time. Those are all things the gospel also condemns, but belief and regular church attendance doesn't eliminate them from our lives.

Belief alone isn't enough to eliminate such things. It must be paired with a true commitment to change, and a willingness to seek out any psychological, behavioral, emotional, or mental factors that may be a large part of such decisions. Church/belief shouldn't be something people are forced into in an attempt to "fix" them. It should be a choice they make willingly as they try to discover their own spiritual fulfillment. Even more dangerous, it may ultimately have the same affect as failed healings. It shifts the burden onto those who've come to the church for help. If church/belief should be enough to take away their problems, the implication is that a failure to do so is evidence of that person's lack of authentic faith.

Back to my initial story about George's immigrant client. She did start taking her kids to his church and sending them to youth group. I don't know any of the details about their time their or how it affected her son. But I do know that a few months later, he got in trouble again, and she returned to the office to talk to George about his thoughts on her decision to send her son back to their home country away from all the bad influences. I wasn't surprised to hear that simply taking him to church and youth group wasn't enough.

The Paradox of Dave Ramsey and Christian College Tuition

When I decided to attend a Christian College, unlike most of my peers, my mother was the first to try to discourage me. Not because she isn't a Christian, but because of the sky high tuition rates such institutions charge. Private Christian colleges are expensive. Very expensive.

Many who are concerned with such costs dismiss those concerns by telling themselves that God will surely make a way for them to attend since they are stepping out in faith and demonstrating their devotion to learn more about his word. (Count the Christian culture cliches in that sentence. ) Many Christian colleges also market to prospective students with such concerns or potential alumni donors by filling their marketing materials with similar phrases.

This isn't very surprising. But I do find it confusing in light of another Evangelical trend.

Dave Ramsey

I struggle to reconcile such fervent marketing of costly education coming from the same people who adore Dave Ramsey and all of his financial teachings.

For those who are unfamiliar, Dave Ramsey is American Evangelical Culture's most beloved financial guru. Most AEC churches regularly offer his "Financial Peace University" class. They learn about "debt snowballs," cutting spending, and buying big bargains - all dressed up in shiny biblical language.

Although I respect the idea of helping people get out of debt and don't necessarily diagree with all of Ramsey's teachings, there is a lot of legitimate concern over whether such classes (and their encouragement to save wealth to "live like no one else") should be presented as Christianity. That's a fair and productive debate to have. But I'm not here to present such a debate. (If you want to discuss that issue more, SCCL brought up the topic recently.)

I want to present a different question that confuses me. How can the same culture that embraces Dave Ramsey's teachings on avoiding and getting out of debt continue to encourage their kids to take on tens of thousands of dollars of debt that will take years to pay off all in the name of "Christ-centered education?" What sort of cognitive dissonance allows them to embrace both ideas?  Am I the only one confused by this?

Disclaimer: I obviously have a horse in this race, since I really regret the amount of debt I incurred from attending such a college and don't think that it was worth it at all. If I had to do it all over again, I would choose a much cheaper public university. But that's a topic for another post...