The Great Commission?

(A couple disclaimers/confessions. I don't really like the idea of short-term evangelism mission trips. I'm not going to get into the reasons though many of them are discussed on Jamie, the Very Worst Missionary's blog (in a few places). I will also say that I went on 3 evangelism short term mission trips in my teens with Teen Mania. By the third I was to the point of feeling disenchanted with the whole idea but I went for other reasons.)

I received a support email from a friend today asking for money to send him to Nepal for a short term mission trip this summer. I found the second paragraph particularly thought-provoking and I turned it over in my head a bit on my run today (when I was not thinking, "Ow.. oww... my legs... oww... must... breathe...")

"The purpose on the trip is to bring people into a personal relationship with Jesus.  THAT is our ultimate focus.  In a land where its people are deeply religious, the battle for the hearts and minds of the people are won by the leading of the Holy Spirit.  It is not because of our own efforts that people accept Jesus as our redeemer, but because of His working in their heart."

When I first read this I was struck by the way he said this because to me it read, "We are going to Nepal to bring people to Jesus. However, only the Holy Spirit can bring someone to Jesus, we can't do it." Interesting. 

In light of today being Easter, I've been reflecting on the idea of Jesus saving mankind from their sins. My facebook feed is full of my Christian friends thanking Jesus for the gift of life and for his sacrifice. While running today I thought to myself, it's true. As humans we search desperately for hope and meaning in life. To believe that the God who created you and the world around you cared enough about your plight to suffer and give you redemption is great news. It's amazing news. It's the best news. You're loved and cherished. 

However, if you think of all the humans on this planet, about 7 billion of us, and according to the most favorable of statistics only 33% of those are Christians, things get sad. Are 66% of humans really hell bound and is it because of us? People claim that with these words Jesus put the responsibility of people's salvation in our hands: "Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you." (Mt. 28:19) And is that good news? To take something as important as eternal salvation and place it in the hands of stupid, selfish, awful, deceitful, confused, scared, humans? To call that "The Great Commission"? It's the verse that short term missions clings too- we need to go and tell people about Jesus and save them. We might be their only chance.

But, today I wondered, is it salvation Jesus wanted us to bring to people? Or is it just, as Rob Bell says in Velvet Elvis, that a life knowing Jesus, knowing that you are loved and precious, is the best possible life. That we have found the best possible life to live on this planet and we want to share it? We want to invite people to live a life that (also from Mr. Bell) brings heaven to this earth. Whatever brings love, peace, joy, kindness, patience, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control is the best life. That's good news.

Salvation is complicated. Eternity and heaven and our final destinations are murky and confusing if you start poking at them. I'm not entirely convinced that Jesus intended for us to try to "save" people and place their salvation as a responsibility on our checklist. 

Those are my disjointed ponderings today. No conclusive thoughts, just some questions and wonderings. 

The World I Know is Lost in Shadows

I cannot begin to count the times since the release of the 1998 movie Les Miserables that I have seen a pastor show the clip of the priest telling the police who are about to carry Jean Valjean back to jail for having robbed said priest that Valjean is innocent because the silver he is carrying with him was a gift from the priest. The moment reaches it's dramatic peak when, after the police leave, the priest informs Valjean that he must live a good life now because he (the priest) has purchased his soul for God.

It's a great scene and very moving. Jean Valjean is a wonderful character and his struggle to be a good man is beautiful (he's got a few lines in the musical that always choke me up). However, from the moment that I got over my lovesick obsession with Eponine it was not Valjean, Cosette or Marius that fascinated me. It was Javert, the unbending, seemingly cruel police officer that hunts Valjean throughout the years. (Though I also love Fantine. I might talk about her another day.)

Javert could be called the villain. After all, you kind of hate him. The first time you see him he's releasing Valjean from a 19 year prison sentence while reminding him that he will always be a thief. He doesn't even refer to Valjean by name, instead demeaning him with his number- 24601. Even after Valjean makes good and starts a new life as a benevolent, law abiding owner of a brick shop and mayor of a town, when Javert finds him he ignores all of these things and only sees the thief who broke parole. Back to jail he must go! When he comes to arrest Valjean, he callously ignores Valjean's pleas to let him take care of Fantine's orphaned child, forcing Valjean to attack him and run to find and care for Cosette.

But here's the thing about Javert and his haunting songs in the musical. He absolutely, 100% believes he is the hero of this piece. He's doing exactly what he believes is the right thing and what God would want him to do. He believes he is the hand of the Lord and that justice is a swift and deadly sword because "those that stumble and those that fall must pay the price." In one song he even prays, "Lord, let me find him that I may see him safe behind walls." It's not a personal vendetta for him, he just believes with all his heart that Valjean is a dangerous criminal and he, Javert, must stop him and bring him to justice.

I pity Javert. He tries so hard to be a righteous man that he is blinded to the suffering of the innocent and that things around him are more complex than black and white, right and wrong. He's so trapped in this unbending world of his own creation that when he and Valjean have their final confrontation and Valjean spares his life, Javert cannot cope. In the musical he sings his final, heartrending song:

All my thoughts fly apart, can this man be believed?
Shall his sins be forgiven? Shall his crimes be reprieved?
And must I now begin to doubt, who never doubted all these years?
My heart is stone, but still it trembles.
The world I know is lost in shadows.
Is he from heaven or from hell? And does he know?
That by granting me my life today, that man has killed me even so.....
There is nowhere I can turn, there is no way to go on.

In the light that Javert could be wrong, that Valjean could be a good man and that his sins could be forgiven was more than Javert could handle and he kills himself. It's mind boggling. In the light of mercy, grace and forgiveness, Javert chooses to take his life rather than face a new world.

I know this is getting long but here is the moral of my story. It can be hard, so hard, to love and forgive people who are unbending and judgmental. You just want to smack them or yell at them, or maybe never speak to them again. But these people are likely not trying to hurt you. They are convinced of their truth and they are clinging to it like a life preserver. I've been white-knuckled in my past as well. All you can do is be like Valjean and in spite of all the torture Javert put him through, still show mercy and forgiveness, just as it was shown to you, just as you want it to be shown to others. I'm hoping our stubborn loved ones won't pull a Javert and jump off a bridge, but maybe we can shatter their graceless worlds with mercy and love?

Sometimes Community Can Suck

I wrote this for my own benefit months ago after seeing Dave Bazan in concert and heard him talk about the effect his switch to agnosticism from Christianity has had on his family relationships and friendships. I thought I'd share it here.

Faith can be such an integral part of one’s life that sharing the same beliefs with someone else seals you into a safe and comforting place like no other. When no one else can understand the decisions you make, where you put your time, etc. someone of the same faith can. If you’re really engrossed in your faith’s culture, the bonding becomes even easier. You and your friends are listening to the same music and reading the same books. You’re privy to the same jokes and you speak the same language. Normal bonds are even deeper because they will stretch into eternity.

When I was deeply involved in church I was attending a church related activity five days a week and generally spending time with people from my church the other two. My world was small, but I felt safe in it, extremely so. I knew everyone, they knew me. Discussing personal matters to the point of utterly exposing your heart was common and even easy most of the time because everyone would understand your struggles to be a better Christian. The community I experienced there felt completely safe, completely open, completely right.

From being on the inside of a community like that I can understand why it’s so hard for someone to hear that a member is leaving. Not physically leaving, that would be no problem -spiritually leaving. This is beyond losing a friend, it’s losing a comrade, an eternal family member. I think it’s the weight of the latter that really plagues Christians-  will you now be separated from someone you love forever?

It’s a horrible feeling, I can speak from experience. When my someone I love told me they didn’t know if they believed in God I agonized over the thought that we would be separated for all eternity. It was the chief thought in my mind, that I just had to be certain their salvation was secure. They could ask any questions they liked so long as I knew that when we died, we would end up in the same place. I can only imagine that would be one of the first thoughts to enter many of my friend’s minds were they to know some of the thoughts I’ve been having.

The only solution is to mount an offensive to get your friend back in the fold ASAP. This loss of faith is just a trick of the devil’s; Josh McDowell and Lee Stroble have proved to the entire Christian world that with the right argument you can reason someone back into belief. And thus, the arguing and reasoning begins- facts about the Bible’s accuracy, questions about good and evil and spiritual revelation.

I can appreciate this reaction, I really can. I had that precise reaction myself. But that’s because I didn’t know then what I know now. For every argument, there’s a counter-argument. For every spiritual revelation there’s a possible explanation. We don’t know anything, we can’t. And faith is defined as “belief that is not based on proof” for a reason. If you want to argue, you can, but it will likely not get you anywhere unless the person is seeking to debate. But if they are just seeking to share with you, their friend, what is on their heart and mind, debates will only serve to say, “you are wrong, I’m not listening.” So many times I wanted to cover my ears and say “lalala- I don’t hear you, I don’t hear you” when my friend was confessing their thoughts to me. I wish I hadn’t. All it did was serve to drive a wedge between us, making them unwilling to share their thoughts and feelings on God, religion, morality, etc for years to come.

So here’s my point, something for the Christian world to ponder. Yes, for those of you in the community it is grievous and terrible when a member leaves the fold. But remember, chances are, that person is much more frightened, confused and upset than you are. For many (for me), I don’t know if it’s true for all, this potential loss of their faith, their community, everything that centered their world is devastating. It’s terrifying. It’s nothing they came to lightly. It’s not easy or comfortable. And while they deal with the terror of losing their faith, ahead looms the very real possibility of losing friends and family as well. Maybe they’ll stay around to view them as a new project that needs to be accomplished. Maybe they’ll hold them at arms length. Maybe the polarization of faith will be too much and they will cut them out completely.

I’ve never felt fear like I feel the moments I let slip a belief that no longer adheres to that of the person I’m speaking to. Confessing these beliefs to someone from my old community terrifies me. Which is why I have rarely done it. I carefully avoid topics that I know I can’t lie about. Usually I’m safe. I know how to speak the language and I’ve always been adept at steering around topics I don’t want to discuss. But, at times, I’m backed into a corner and my heart will literally pound with fear. 

Afterward: I don't consider my faith lost. My fellow blogger made the point my brain has been dancing around for a long time- just because our thoughts are changing or growing, it does not mean God has changed. S.S., you are brilliant and I love you. 

Doubt and Rage

From what I can tell, from myself and from others, Christians give lip service to being okay with doubts and questions but they really aren’t. Not most of them. I surely wasn't. Doubting God when something terrible has happened to you is okay because you’re grieving. Questioning things in a philosophical way is okay because it doesn’t really impact your day to day Christian club membership. But real, firm, steady, heavy questions and doubts that aren’t a result of trauma and musing aren’t really acceptable. It’s a sign of not having enough faith.

I can’t decide why Christians, myself included, react so violently to people questioning and doubting. My first thought is that it must be fear. Those doubts and fears intrude on their safe world and that scares them. Also, someone they love might not be “saved” and that scares them. At least, those are the things I was afraid of when people I love expressed doubts and anger at God. I kept feeling like saying, “SH! HE’LL HEAR YOU!” I kept thinking, how can I possibly spend eternity without them? And deep inside I wondered again, are they right? After all, why doesn’t God show himself? How is it fair if unchurched people go straight to hell? And those thoughts fill me with fear.

So I get that. And I know that in this situation I have made a real ass of myself a lot of times and probably said some pretty terrible things ranging from asinine to hateful. I make a really strong effort to not do that anymore though it's bound to happen sometime. But, let me encourage you, dear reader, to think twice before you come barreling in to save the soul of a doubting friend. Let them speak. Try to listen. Try not to let your own fear get the best of you.  Remember it is your job to love someone. Then check 1 Cor. 13 and see if any of those descriptions of love include, "tell them they are very wrong and deceived by Satan."

The Fear Post

Sometimes I feel like my entire life is and has always been (I hope will not always be) defined by fear. When I first read Hind's Feet on High Places, I felt a great kinship with Much-Afraid because I easily saw myself in her place. My prayers from that point on were often confessions to God that I was very much afraid and I needed him to deliver me from that fear. The first verse I voluntarily memorized was 1 John 4:18, "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love." I cannot begin to count the nights that I have lain awake, my heart pounding as I thought of death, while I whispered those words over and over, willing them into my heart.

Why am I so afraid?

I want a scapegoat to point at and blame for all my problems. The church for teaching me to fear hell. Teen Mania for teaching me to fear God's wrath and judgement should I fail to fulfill his call on my life. Myself for always fearing death. My father for making me skeptical and always full of doubt. My grandmother for living in a constant state of worry and passing it on.

But I really suspect it's just who I am. Why am I so afraid?

Terrified of being wrong. Terrified of living wrong. Terrified that I'm letting Satan win and deceive me. Wondering if I'm lazy and should be fighting battles I'm not even engaging in. Should I be going to church? Is my salvation in peril if I don't? Should I be trying to get my friends to convert? Ask them if they want to pray the sinner's prayer?

These questions and fears wouldn't have even crossed my mind 10 years ago. I was supremely confident in my place in the world, in my beliefs, in the way I was living my life. I was straight-edge, naive and proud of it. Sure, my life was full of turmoil but it was all boys and tests from the Lord, so I was okay. I knew what I knew. I believed in a truth that I felt perfectly safe in and I had dozens of friends who believed the exact same thing to back me up.

And then the doubt came. And I was so afraid.

I just hid from it. Pushed it aside. Ignored the questions and buried them under as much faith as I could muster. Didn't worry about answers, just set it in God's hands and closed my eyes. Didn't try to understand the "whys"; just put them away. But they kept pushing to the surface and finally I couldn't escape. I could only ignore my heart for so long and even though I know the arguments backward and forwards, my heart was restless.

I'm so afraid.

Am I allowed to just say, "I don't know" and leave it at that? Can I just say that I want to believe in truth and a God that loves us all? Can I just try to work out my faith one step at a time? Maybe I'm wrong but I'm trying to be honest about where I am and I'm not trying to make any grand statements. I just want to live well. Do justly, love mercy, walk humbly with my God. Love everyone because God loves everyone and he loves me.

Maybe it's okay to be afraid. Maybe it keeps me humble and on my toes. Prevents me from being apathetic and lazy. Maybe I'm just working out my faith with fear and trembling, like Paul says in Philippians. I do know that right now, I believe I can stand before God and say, I am honestly trying my best. I am doing my best.

You Can't Take That Away from Me

This weekend I was sitting at my Christmas party discussing God with my Jewish friend, M. Both she and my atheist friend, J, have honestly been the two people who have made me feel like I can still be a Christian in light of my adjusted beliefs. This weekend, as M and I were talking about the religious aspects of our respective December holidays I found myself confessing to her how I had felt this year that if I told people some of the things I'd been thinking- that LGBT people are exactly who they should be, that maybe there are more paths to God than we'd suspected- I wouldn't be allowed to be a Christian anymore. That my religion, my beliefs would be taken away from me. "I want to believe in God," I told M and she said that no one could take God from me.

What I told her is the truth. In spite of all the confusion, upheaval, frustration with the church, etc. I want and I do believe in God. I believe that "God is love and He loves everyone." I believe that my highest duty in life is to love God with my heart, mind and strength and to love my neighbor as myself. I believe God is here with me and I believe that the miracles around me are the work of his hands.

I also believe that we are capable of really screwing things up. And that the world is broken and evil. And that there are questions I can't answer. That the hatred of the world can deeply wound people. That there are many people dying and suffering and I can't say why that should happen to them. I don't blame people who reject the idea of God, I understand why they feel that way. But I can't. I don't want to. I want to believe there's something after this life. I want to believe in the Summer Lands and the world CS Lewis describes in The Last Battle where justice is served and it gets bigger and better and more glorious the further you go in. Where love reigns.

So that's where I stand this Christmas season. I quietly sang Christmas hymns all the way home from work last week in thankfulness when the shooting at Virginia Tech didn't turn into another terrible massacre. I lit the candle that illuminates our holy family nativity and smiled. I prayed for peace and comfort for a family that lost their teenage daughter this weekend. I hoped that I could reclaim and hold onto a God and Savior that has meant so much to me.

I basked in the glow of friendships that have blessed and comforted me this year.

My Confession

I mentioned in the first post on this blog how scared I am of essentially "coming out" to my conservative religious friends and family. Right now the thought of it literally ties my stomach in knots. I want to be brave, I want to just say what I think, whether or not I know that I'm right 100%. I don't really want to fight or debate or try to change anyone's mind, I just want to feel like I can be honest with the people I call my friends. But, I don't feel that way. And I know I'm a coward. But there are so many variables...

It's beyond the word difficult for me to just let go of so much that I've believed for so many years. As I've become less arrogant (I hope) and gotten older, I question myself more than I ever have before. Lately, I've argued, debated and agonized over the question, "Is being gay a sin?" and this debate has shaken me to my core.

My heart says, no, it can't be. There's no way. My head even agrees with my heart. I'd even come to a place of confidence to the point that I sent letters to every congressman, senator, whomever I could telling them that, as a NY state citizen and a Christian I firmly believed that gay marriage should be legal. I even told people I thought it should be legal. And finally, I took the first step and told someone I didn't believe being gay was a sin. Our ensuing conversation was lengthy and nuanced but the part that haunted me and tore at my heart was when she said that I was holding my gay friend's hands on their way to hell by not telling them to repent. Ouch. It's been weeks since this conversation and I am haunted by those words and the tiny voice whispering- what if she's right? What if that is what I'm doing?

I wish the voices would just shut up.

I can't stand it anymore.

Is this what God wants? Agony and misery and shame and hiding and questioning and never feeling safe? If God is good... if he is loving... why would he condemn someone who is just looking for someone to love? For companionship and a home? For everything that I have been lucky enough to find in my husband. Why  shouldn't my friends deserve that?

Here's the thing. Even if you're TOTALLY and completely wrong, and it's an outright sin to be gay, what damage have you done? If being gay is a sin, or even acting upon feelings you have toward a member of the same sex is a sin, are those people that you have continued to love and accept going to go to hell, because you didn't show them the path to redemption by opening their eyes to their sinful relationship?

No. Because the only way to get to heaven is through faith in Christ. Not straight faith, just faith.

If our (Christianity as a whole) stand against gays, or against BEING gay, or ACTING gay, or even thinking gay, will that stand not drive others away from Christianity?...I don't want to be wishy washy about my faith, or what God requires of us. But I know he doesn't want us to hate. He wants us to love. I figure if we can bring people to Him through love, He will speak to their hearts for the rest.

Rebecca, who wrote that comment, I wish I knew you. I really do. I want to talk with you and ask you if these words are true and you are at peace or if your fear ever eats you alive like mine does. Do you have past teachings in your heart, like I do, that appear suddenly and cover your hands with the blood of the lost?

This is my true struggle- I don't want to fail my friends. I don't want to die and face God and have him show me all the people who I was meant to save but didn't because I was too scared or misled. That is my greatest fear, my ultimate fear.

I grew up being taught that I had the absolute truth in my hands. I spent a lot of my teen years learning from a ministry I was involved in that the souls of the lost are in my hands- that the blood of the lost is on my head if I don't do everything in my power to "save" them. I spent all four years of college as a "leader" in a Christan campus ministry, steeped in responsibility for the people around me, desperately trying to grow the church. These are not light beliefs that I've held and can slough off. They are burned inside of me and I want, I need to know that I am not failing the people around me by following my heart, changing my beliefs, challenging theirs. I don't want to be a deceiver or lead people astray. I don't want to hold anyone's hand on the way to hell.

Velvet Elvis - Rob Bell

Oh man, I don't really know how to review this book because the 5 stars I'm giving it is very much a result of my current place in life. I've been questioning the faith I grew up with for the last 5 years in a half-hearted kind of way but only in recent months truly began to feel things I've believed in my past and things I currently feel are right have been in direct opposition. It's become a full out struggle that is scary and disheartening. As I have learned some of the terrible atrocities currently being committed in the name of Jesus, my heart has broken and I lose hope daily.

This book has given me back some hope.

There were a lot of parts in this book that made me feel that all my doubts and thoughts, questions and fears were validated, but this is the one that stands out to me the most.

"....so many people are hostile to the church, many for good reason. We reclaim the church as a blessing... not only because that is what Jesus intended from the beginning but also because serving people is the only way their perceptions of the church are ever going to change. This is why it is so toxic for the gospel when Christians picket and boycott and complain about how bad the world is. This behavior doesn't help. It makes it worse.... We are all created in the image of God, and we are all sacred, valuable creations of God. Everybody matters. To treat people differently based on who believes what is to fail to respect the image of God in everyone. As the book of James says, "God shows no favoritism." So we don't either."

I feel like I'm oversharing but the immensity of the relief I felt when I read this book with my father and he agreed with me that this is actually "good news" made me cry. Maybe I can still be a Christian after all.

Not one to speak my mind anymore...

... at least, not in cyberspace. 

It's funny, when I was in college I blogged constantly. Mostly my random thoughts on life, God, friends, my own inner turmoil. I loved it and I guess I fancied my thoughts worthy of other people's time. It made sense, a lot of my friends had blogs and we would all read each other's blogs and leave little comments. 

The funny part is I still write my random thoughts on life, God, friends and my own inner turmoil. I just never publish them. I write and write and then save the draft because I don't really know if I'm ready or willing anymore to just put those thoughts out there for people to read. It feels arrogant to even think that people would read them, but if they do... I don't know. 

Maybe it's because I've become less confident in my own convictions. Or maybe it's because I have a much more diverse group of friends now than I used to and I'm afraid of offending people. It's probably both. 

I follow this one blog called "The Agnostics Wife's Blog" and sometimes I really envy her. She started this anonymous blog and she can just say whatever she wants. So I decided I would do that too. I don't have to keep blogging where people know me. I can wrap myself in anonymity and speak my thoughts to silent cyberspace.