The passing of Amendment 1 in North Carolina, which essentially said, "Hey, we know homosexuals can't get married already but we just want to make EXTRA sure they know we are against it," has really stirred up the fires on the issue of marriage equality and the Church is responding. Terribly.
First, there was a sermon in which a pastor told his congregation that he thought all homosexuals should be put in an electrified fence, fed via flyovers and left to die out because they can't reproduce. (Because we all know gay children come from gay parents. Oh... wait....)
Don't get me wrong, the electric fence guy made me feel upset but at least his idea was insane so I just dismissed him as crazy. It was disturbing, but, to be honest, I wrote this guy off immediately. He sounded ignorant. He used terrible grammar. It disgusted me he would suggest something like this, disgusted me that his congregation would applaud and say "amen", but on the whole I thought, "Stupid nut job" and moved on.
But these comments from Curtis Knapp made me sob. I made it about 30 seconds before I completely lost it and started crying my heart out.
"They should be put to death.... it tends to limit people coming out of the closet. 'Oh, so you're saying we should go out and start killing them.' No, but I'm saying the government should. They won't, but they should."
What is wrong with this man? These men?! The people in their churches!?! Did anyone stand up and leave? I want to believe that next Sunday he'd stand before an empty church. Unfortunately, I'm sure that's not true.
I don't, I can't understand how that man could think it would ever be okay or the will of God to say something so terrible. In his reaction to the responses he's received as a result of his sermon, Knapp said, "My hope is for their salvation, not for their death" but did not apologize for or retract what he had said. So, sorry Knapp, I'm going to have to call bullshit on that. And I'm going to have to call bullshit on other Christians who try to pull this same thing, ie, attacking the LGBT community, oppressing them, calling them animals, debased, abominations, etc. and then claiming they are acting in love. That, I'm sorry, is not love.
I know, I know, that many Christians believe they need to stand against the LGBT community and stand for the Bible, but I ask you, is that what they are doing? Is saying hurtful and hate-filled things what Jesus would do? I just can't believe that. Even if you believe that homosexuality is not the way God wants someone to live, you should not threaten that person or do harm to them, whether that be physically or emotionally. Shame on us. Shame on the Church for crushing these people's spirits with hateful speech. Shame on us for claiming we think their sin is the same as ours and yet treating them like lepers. Shame on us for allowing men to stand in positions of authority in the church family and say such horrible things. Shame on us for letting our desire to win trump our desire to love and care for the humans around us. Shame on us all if we don't stand up and tell people that this is not acceptable, these words are not okay, these men do not speak for me.
Friends, don't let this issue of marriage equality divide, destroy and devolve the Church. Whether we all agree about whether or not homosexuality is sinful, whether or not your church wants to allow LGBT members into the fold, we should all be able to agree that we should have one response to them- love. Love like we love ourselves. That is just not happening. These men are not loving these people, they are not even beginning to treat them as they would wish to be treated. I don't believe that these pastors would suggest death or imprisonment for themselves. I believe what they are doing is reacting to the social environment with fear, extremism and hate. They believe there are too many Christians not upholding that "old time religion" and damn it! they are going to fix it by showing that they will obey the Bible no matter what! Be it insane or cruel, no problem!
"My friends, you were chosen to be free... use your freedom as an opportunity to serve each other with love. All that the Law says can be summed up in the command to love each other as you love yourself. If you keep attacking each other like wild animals... you will destroy yourselves." - Galatians 5:13-15
We are destroying ourselves. The Church is becoming synonymous with hate. We are the hate people. And I am grieved.
Friday, June 1, 2012
Friday, May 25, 2012
Keep Hoping
I had this strange experience a few months ago. But I should give some background.
When I was 14, I met this guy at church who I was immediately smitten by. He was everything I had never known in real life and just my type (I didn't know I had a type back then but I acknowledge it now). He was wounded and jaded, dramatic and loved books. He played guitar and was edgy, with black hair and the bluest eyes I've ever seen in my life.
Over the next 3 years we had sporadic interactions at a local coffee shop that were not really all that impressive, but it was my first step outside of my Christian world so they made a giant impression on me. I had never talked to someone who didn't believe in God or go to church before. I'd never known a non-Christian could be so fascinating or smart. But, this guy was in pain. He was starting out on the first steps of a terrible journey of drug abuse and people who knew him much better than I would warn me away at every turn. I was too stubborn, soft-hearted and naive to care (my dad calls it my "Wendy Complex". He says I'm always looking for lost boys to mother). I believed that God had given him to me for a reason and that I was going to change his life. I told one of my friends who was especially adamant that I distance myself that I could see his potential, I believed that God could change this life and bring healing. God had given me this vision and I would not lose hope, no matter what he did.
Then, one day, he disappeared, never to be seen by me again. I was devastated. He haunted me. I would think about him regularly and pray for him often. Over 10 years passed and I would still think about this person I barely knew. It didn't make sense but I think once I got it into my mind that I was responsible for him, I could never shake it off.
Then, one day, a few months ago, something crazy happened. He came to my mind and I typed his name into Facebook. I'd done this years before with no results so I didn't really expect one now. But, there he was. I was astonished. Completely floored. I was shaking. Here he was, over 10 years later, alive and well. A Christian. A father of two adorable children. He had survived through everything and become a Christian. What did it all mean?
For the first time in years my doubts fell silent and I just sat in awe, whispering to God, "Was it all true? Did I really hear you back then? Did those prayers really matter? Had you really given me a vision of that hurting, confused boy's future? Of who he could be? Did I help? Are you trying to give me back my hope and faith?"
It's been a lot to process. But it's become something of a light to me. A momentary rest. Something I can look at and say, "Wow, my hopes came true."
When I was 14, I met this guy at church who I was immediately smitten by. He was everything I had never known in real life and just my type (I didn't know I had a type back then but I acknowledge it now). He was wounded and jaded, dramatic and loved books. He played guitar and was edgy, with black hair and the bluest eyes I've ever seen in my life.
Over the next 3 years we had sporadic interactions at a local coffee shop that were not really all that impressive, but it was my first step outside of my Christian world so they made a giant impression on me. I had never talked to someone who didn't believe in God or go to church before. I'd never known a non-Christian could be so fascinating or smart. But, this guy was in pain. He was starting out on the first steps of a terrible journey of drug abuse and people who knew him much better than I would warn me away at every turn. I was too stubborn, soft-hearted and naive to care (my dad calls it my "Wendy Complex". He says I'm always looking for lost boys to mother). I believed that God had given him to me for a reason and that I was going to change his life. I told one of my friends who was especially adamant that I distance myself that I could see his potential, I believed that God could change this life and bring healing. God had given me this vision and I would not lose hope, no matter what he did.
Then, one day, he disappeared, never to be seen by me again. I was devastated. He haunted me. I would think about him regularly and pray for him often. Over 10 years passed and I would still think about this person I barely knew. It didn't make sense but I think once I got it into my mind that I was responsible for him, I could never shake it off.
Then, one day, a few months ago, something crazy happened. He came to my mind and I typed his name into Facebook. I'd done this years before with no results so I didn't really expect one now. But, there he was. I was astonished. Completely floored. I was shaking. Here he was, over 10 years later, alive and well. A Christian. A father of two adorable children. He had survived through everything and become a Christian. What did it all mean?
For the first time in years my doubts fell silent and I just sat in awe, whispering to God, "Was it all true? Did I really hear you back then? Did those prayers really matter? Had you really given me a vision of that hurting, confused boy's future? Of who he could be? Did I help? Are you trying to give me back my hope and faith?"
It's been a lot to process. But it's become something of a light to me. A momentary rest. Something I can look at and say, "Wow, my hopes came true."
Monday, May 14, 2012
Confessions of a Former Homophobe (kinda)
I wish I couldn't apply the word, "homophobe" to myself. I wish I could give myself the grace of a blogger I will discuss today and say I wasn't really afraid of homosexuals but that wouldn't be entirely honest. I was afraid of them. And confused by them. I can say the homophobia was short lived and the majority of my life I was not afraid of gay people, but I felt like they were deceived by Satan and kinda icky. That last bit is something I'm especially not proud of. I'm so sorry.
I was remembering the other day that the first time I was aware gay people existed in the world was when I saw the movie Philadelphia. It was a hugely confusing moment for me because it was explained to me that Tom Hank's being gay was wrong but anyone who has seen that movie knows that Hank's performance rips your heart out. I was so upset by his treatment in that movie, it bothered me for a long time afterwards. However, it didn't really hit home or challenge my thoughts and feelings about gay people. I made it all about AIDs discrimination and left it at that.
The first real confusion I felt about gay people came when I saw The Laramie Project. That play is extremely powerful and for the first time gay people were not sinful and sexually depraved. I saw them, as a character in the play says, as just God's kids. Just like me. And I didn't know what to do with that thought. I was 19 at this time and I was so used to thinking of gay people as strange, unnatural people that I didn't even know where to begin changing that opinion. To my knowledge I had never known a gay person and I was honestly afraid to discuss any of these thoughts with my friends or family. So I just buried them.
Then I made my first openly gay friend and my foundations started to get rocked. Then I made another and I started thinking, this doesn't seem fair. These are good people. Then a guy I had led a Bible study with and greatly admired during my years in college (I still admire you Matt!) revealed that he was gay. That's when everything started falling down around me and I finally got the courage to admit to a friend that I was starting to think maybe being gay was not a sin after all.
However, even though I love these aforementioned people, at this time they were not parts of my everyday life. Thoughts of them preyed on my mind but the rhetoric of "being gay is a sin, just like every other, but a sin and they chose it" was just too deeply ingrained. After all, man + woman = baby and that was a logic I couldn't dispute. It was all still a somewhat hazy, confusing subject for me. Until I met my friend Scott, one of my most beloved friends in Syracuse who has been a wonderful addition to the Blum's lives. Scott and I share a brain too often and for me that is a rare find, one that I treasure. When I found out this fantastic human was gay I realized my days of sitting on the fence were over, I was going to have to figure this thing out.
I have reached a place in my life where I believe completely that being gay is not a choice, nor a sin. I believe God will bless a committed, loving gay relationship equally. I believe his arms are open to his gay children and I think it's time the rest of his kids caught up. It's not been an easy journey and I don't expect it to be. My family and many of my friends do not agree with me and have made it clear, some more lovingly than others, that they believe I am wrong. But I have to go with my heart. If you're curious how I feel about the scriptures addressing homosexuality I would like to refer you to my friend Matt Roger's blog where he, in "The Gay Posts", very thoughtfully and thoroughly addresses all the scriptures and other issues. I agree with him.
Now, as an "ally" (for some reason I feel funny using that word, maybe because it's so politicized) I want to share a couple things that have surfaced that last couple days in light of that abysmal amendment passing in North Caroline (to me that amendment essentially said, "Hey! It's already illegal for gays to be equal citizens but let's just make sure they understand that we REALLY mean it. No equality for you!") I was pleased President Obama had the guts to support marriage equality publicly. I'm sure it was not an easy decision with the election coming up around the corner. I loved this statement he made:
A great blogger, Justin Lee made this statement that, as someone who formerly did all manner of damage to people in the name of Christ, I sincerely believe:
Clearly, I no longer believe this but that's because I had a chance to meet people who changed my mind. Because I have a family that encourages me to question beliefs even if the answers I come up with don't match up with theirs. I have a spouse that loves me through my changes, doubts and fear. I have friends, like the Sara I write this blog with, who have helped me through this journey. These people have given me the courage to doubt, to wholly give myself up to my questions and finally find some closure. If you've never been in the position to doubt your foundational beliefs, I think it's difficult to appreciate just how terrifying it truly is. That's what we're asking people to do when we ask them to vote for and support marriage equality. Keep that in mind when someone on the opposite side of a great divide makes you want to scream. Extend them grace in their journey. I will try to take my own advice.
I was remembering the other day that the first time I was aware gay people existed in the world was when I saw the movie Philadelphia. It was a hugely confusing moment for me because it was explained to me that Tom Hank's being gay was wrong but anyone who has seen that movie knows that Hank's performance rips your heart out. I was so upset by his treatment in that movie, it bothered me for a long time afterwards. However, it didn't really hit home or challenge my thoughts and feelings about gay people. I made it all about AIDs discrimination and left it at that.
The first real confusion I felt about gay people came when I saw The Laramie Project. That play is extremely powerful and for the first time gay people were not sinful and sexually depraved. I saw them, as a character in the play says, as just God's kids. Just like me. And I didn't know what to do with that thought. I was 19 at this time and I was so used to thinking of gay people as strange, unnatural people that I didn't even know where to begin changing that opinion. To my knowledge I had never known a gay person and I was honestly afraid to discuss any of these thoughts with my friends or family. So I just buried them.
Then I made my first openly gay friend and my foundations started to get rocked. Then I made another and I started thinking, this doesn't seem fair. These are good people. Then a guy I had led a Bible study with and greatly admired during my years in college (I still admire you Matt!) revealed that he was gay. That's when everything started falling down around me and I finally got the courage to admit to a friend that I was starting to think maybe being gay was not a sin after all.
However, even though I love these aforementioned people, at this time they were not parts of my everyday life. Thoughts of them preyed on my mind but the rhetoric of "being gay is a sin, just like every other, but a sin and they chose it" was just too deeply ingrained. After all, man + woman = baby and that was a logic I couldn't dispute. It was all still a somewhat hazy, confusing subject for me. Until I met my friend Scott, one of my most beloved friends in Syracuse who has been a wonderful addition to the Blum's lives. Scott and I share a brain too often and for me that is a rare find, one that I treasure. When I found out this fantastic human was gay I realized my days of sitting on the fence were over, I was going to have to figure this thing out.
I have reached a place in my life where I believe completely that being gay is not a choice, nor a sin. I believe God will bless a committed, loving gay relationship equally. I believe his arms are open to his gay children and I think it's time the rest of his kids caught up. It's not been an easy journey and I don't expect it to be. My family and many of my friends do not agree with me and have made it clear, some more lovingly than others, that they believe I am wrong. But I have to go with my heart. If you're curious how I feel about the scriptures addressing homosexuality I would like to refer you to my friend Matt Roger's blog where he, in "The Gay Posts", very thoughtfully and thoroughly addresses all the scriptures and other issues. I agree with him.
Now, as an "ally" (for some reason I feel funny using that word, maybe because it's so politicized) I want to share a couple things that have surfaced that last couple days in light of that abysmal amendment passing in North Caroline (to me that amendment essentially said, "Hey! It's already illegal for gays to be equal citizens but let's just make sure they understand that we REALLY mean it. No equality for you!") I was pleased President Obama had the guts to support marriage equality publicly. I'm sure it was not an easy decision with the election coming up around the corner. I loved this statement he made:
“The thing at root that we think about is, not only Christ sacrificing himself on our behalf, but it’s also the golden rule — you know, treat others the way you would want to be treated. And I think that’s what we try to impart to our kids, and that’s what motivates me as president.”Thank you, President Obama for this grace-filled statement. Because he is very right, as Christians, even if you believe being gay is a sin, you are still called to love your neighbor as yourself. How would you feel if your neighbor was going out of their way to cripple your family's legal rights?
A great blogger, Justin Lee made this statement that, as someone who formerly did all manner of damage to people in the name of Christ, I sincerely believe:
"I find that most Christians are totally unaware of how mean the church can be to gay people, and so they don't know that they need to do anything to fix it. As long as it's not fixed, it's going to be hard to give gay people a reason to come back to the church."I'm pretty sure he doesn't just mean the church building, he means the body of Christ. And, from my point of view, it can be hard both for gay Christians and gay-affirming Christians to be a part of the family these days. This issue is becoming so polarizing, there's so much anger, hurt, slander and fear that I am afraid the followers of Christ have forgotten the love part of their mission. I'm not trying to say that people on the pro-gay side are always right and always accepting. They aren't. I'm not. But I'm striving to be. We must all extend grace. Justin made this other great statement:
"I owe an apology to all the people I've hurt, and I of course offer my unconditional forgiveness to anyone who may have hurt me. We all make mistakes, and we're all trying to stand for what's right. It's just that sometimes we don't have all the facts even when we think we do."It's like he reached into my brain and plucked out this thought. I owe apologies to many people I'm sure. I have been awful sometimes, whether aloud or in my mind. I know from my past that people that don't agree with me, the people who voted for Amendment 1 in North Carolina or who keep overturning marriage equality in California are not bad, evil, heartless people. They are doing what they think is right. Not too long ago I would have agreed with them. Not because I hated gay people or thought they deserved less than me, but because I believed that they were deceived and that by stopping them from marrying I was somehow protecting them and myself. That somehow it would make America a better place and more people would come to know Jesus.
Clearly, I no longer believe this but that's because I had a chance to meet people who changed my mind. Because I have a family that encourages me to question beliefs even if the answers I come up with don't match up with theirs. I have a spouse that loves me through my changes, doubts and fear. I have friends, like the Sara I write this blog with, who have helped me through this journey. These people have given me the courage to doubt, to wholly give myself up to my questions and finally find some closure. If you've never been in the position to doubt your foundational beliefs, I think it's difficult to appreciate just how terrifying it truly is. That's what we're asking people to do when we ask them to vote for and support marriage equality. Keep that in mind when someone on the opposite side of a great divide makes you want to scream. Extend them grace in their journey. I will try to take my own advice.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Brain Worms
Okay, the idea of brain worms is really gross. And they probably exist in nature but I don't want to know. Worms are disgusting, seriously. I hate the idea of them. But I'm titling this post "Brain Worms" because all the time over the past year I keep finding these ideas that are wormed (see?) deep into my mind that I just have accepted as true so not bother to think about again.
One occurred to me randomly in the shower yesterday. I had just gotten back from running, which is a time I do a lot of my deep thinking, so my brain juices were flowing. Suddenly, as I paused to let the conditioner really soak in (my hair has been so rough lately) the thought popped into my head, "Wait. Are all sins the same in the eyes of God?" This is just something I've always believed. I can't remember the first time I heard it and I can't count how many times I've repeated it, but I suddenly realized I have no idea why I should believe that. Where did God say that in the Bible? My 12 years of Christian school leaped into action and my brain began rifling through the Bible. And.... came up with.... nada. Nothing. I could see why some verses might make someone make that leap but none really stated that to God, all sins are equal. And why should they be? Why would it be reasonable, logical or acceptable to think that God looks upon a murderer or someone who has abused a child the same way as he looks upon a kind, generous person who just told a lie for whatever reason? Doesn't really make sense.
This is not to say that I think God's grace can't cover every sin, because I think it can. One of my favorite quotes is, "But all the wickedness in the world which man may do or think is no more to the mercy of God than a live coal dropped in the sea." (William Langland) I also always loved the part in The Hiding Place where Betsy ten Boom is dying in the concentration camp and says to Corrie that she must tell people that there is no pit so deep that God's love is not deeper still and they will believe her because she had been in such a terrible place. (I'm getting choked up just thinking about it) So yes, I believe that God's love extends to the worst of sinners, no matter how uncomfortable that can make me feel. Let's be honest, some people, like Hitler, you want to say do not deserve grace. But that is God's department, not mine and the Bible seems to say that he is always faithful and just to forgive those who seek forgiveness.
The thing I take issue with is sometimes I feel like we only offer a God who seemingly is less caring and logical than us and can only see in black and white. Like there's a checklist and you're either naughty or nice, one or the other, hell or heaven. And if every sin's the same then no matter how you lived or what challenges you faced or anything else, you better have asked for forgiveness or it's hell for you. We would have higher expectations of any other authority figure. We would expect a just judge to examine the case from every angle. We would demand a parent love their child, treat them with compassion and see the big picture. If I missed curfew when I was in high school because I just stayed out late with my friends I was busted. Grounded for the weekend. That's that. But if I missed it because I got a flat or something similar my mom isn't going to ground me for the weekend. Both times I broke the rules of the household but my parents would examine how and why I broke that rule before punishing me. I believe God does the same.
Additional Reading on This Topic
One occurred to me randomly in the shower yesterday. I had just gotten back from running, which is a time I do a lot of my deep thinking, so my brain juices were flowing. Suddenly, as I paused to let the conditioner really soak in (my hair has been so rough lately) the thought popped into my head, "Wait. Are all sins the same in the eyes of God?" This is just something I've always believed. I can't remember the first time I heard it and I can't count how many times I've repeated it, but I suddenly realized I have no idea why I should believe that. Where did God say that in the Bible? My 12 years of Christian school leaped into action and my brain began rifling through the Bible. And.... came up with.... nada. Nothing. I could see why some verses might make someone make that leap but none really stated that to God, all sins are equal. And why should they be? Why would it be reasonable, logical or acceptable to think that God looks upon a murderer or someone who has abused a child the same way as he looks upon a kind, generous person who just told a lie for whatever reason? Doesn't really make sense.
This is not to say that I think God's grace can't cover every sin, because I think it can. One of my favorite quotes is, "But all the wickedness in the world which man may do or think is no more to the mercy of God than a live coal dropped in the sea." (William Langland) I also always loved the part in The Hiding Place where Betsy ten Boom is dying in the concentration camp and says to Corrie that she must tell people that there is no pit so deep that God's love is not deeper still and they will believe her because she had been in such a terrible place. (I'm getting choked up just thinking about it) So yes, I believe that God's love extends to the worst of sinners, no matter how uncomfortable that can make me feel. Let's be honest, some people, like Hitler, you want to say do not deserve grace. But that is God's department, not mine and the Bible seems to say that he is always faithful and just to forgive those who seek forgiveness.
The thing I take issue with is sometimes I feel like we only offer a God who seemingly is less caring and logical than us and can only see in black and white. Like there's a checklist and you're either naughty or nice, one or the other, hell or heaven. And if every sin's the same then no matter how you lived or what challenges you faced or anything else, you better have asked for forgiveness or it's hell for you. We would have higher expectations of any other authority figure. We would expect a just judge to examine the case from every angle. We would demand a parent love their child, treat them with compassion and see the big picture. If I missed curfew when I was in high school because I just stayed out late with my friends I was busted. Grounded for the weekend. That's that. But if I missed it because I got a flat or something similar my mom isn't going to ground me for the weekend. Both times I broke the rules of the household but my parents would examine how and why I broke that rule before punishing me. I believe God does the same.
Additional Reading on This Topic
World Vision
I don't want this to be taken the wrong way. It was great the way people rose up in anger when they learned about Joseph Kony via a video that went viral. Anything that sheds light on atrocities is good. However, I think this video is just as important. Yes, there are terrible humans like Kony doing terrible things. But, there are also simple things killing children every day. Any readers, and I know we don't get a ton, consider sponsoring a child. It is so easy and it helps so much. If there's something I know I can believe about being a Christian it is that we are supposed to feed the hungry, clothe the naked and care for the widow, orphan, poor, prisoner, etc.
It's a quiet thing, to sponsor a child. No fanfare, no travel, no stories of God working in your life (probably)- just a monthly check and some letters (if you're a good sponsor, unlike me). But that child will have everything they need. Food, medicine, school. Just something to think about.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
To Church or Not to Church
I was reading this post over at American Jesus in which the author comments about the phenomenon of a high attendance on Easter Sunday that then instantly plummets. He discusses the idea that many people are trying to "pull a fast one over on Jesus" by showing up on Easter but then not making church a priority the rest of the year.
This was something that struck me as a spotty church attender. I think the last time I attended church here was last summer, maybe fall. It's nothing against the church here. I think they do great things and I really enjoy one of the pastors. I still listen to some of his sermons on line. It was just a sense that I didn't feel like I really belonged. I got tired of the people we know there questioning our absence whenever we would come. "We haven't seen you at church for awhile, where have you been?" I know their intentions are good but it's exhausting to feel obligation to go and sit in a room every Sunday. It's supposed to be meaningful but what if it's not?
This year was the first Easter Sunday I didn’t go to church. My husband and I woke up, looked at each other and said, we haven’t been going regularly any other Sunday, it doesn’t feel honest or sincere to go this Sunday so we won’t.
Frankly, our friends and family have made us regret that decision because we’ve gotten so much grief for not attending church on Easter Sunday. No one seemed to be that bothered that we hadn’t gone for the previous 3 months of Sundays but that we didn’t go on Easter Sunday was horrible. Next year we will probably go to church whether we’re attending or not just to avoid the post-Easter fallout. I imagine there are a lot of people like us out there who go on Christmas and Easter to make family members happy, not to try to pull a fast one over on Jesus.
Church and church attendance and the idea that I need that community is something I’m struggling with in my life right now. I have an amazing, supportive, wonderful group of friends, believers and nonbelievers, that challenge and inspire me. Do I need church as well? I spent Easter Sunday praying and thinking over the Great Commission and talking about it with my brother. Would I have gotten more out of my spiritual life that day if I had gone to church?
In my past experience I have found that the church swallows me up and takes over my life to the point that I don’t feel like I am helping a single person in my life who is not a Christian. I’m also anxious about avoiding the propaganda of the Christian culture that often gets presented hand in hand with the gospel. I am wary of trusting a pastor, a fallible human, to tell me something true.
Every Sunday you go to church and you sing some songs and you hear a man (or woman) tell you what they found significant that week. They were struck by a verse or a book they read and now here is your challenge for the week: we should read a Psalm a day, pray for an hour, read this book, make a goal in your spiritual life, find a non-Christian to pray for, ask someone to come with us next Sunday. Every week there's something and it's really easy for me to just try to do my Christian homework each week and let that be my spiritual life. I can hang with the other Christians and we can talk about our struggles sharing our faith or being a submissive wife or having daily quiet times. We'll pray for each other and smile and go about our day. And we'll have real friendships with each other. But what about everyone else?
Maybe this is a personal problem but when I was in college and deeply involved in my church, that was my life. I was a Bible study leader and I had church activities 5-6 days a week. I didn't have other friends. I didn't do other things. I don't really want to regret that because I loved my friends and I loved my time in college. But I think I was very restricted in my understanding of the world around me and of the people I was trying to "save." I don't want to be like that anymore.
I tried to go to church more casually. Attend but not be involved so much. Not be a volunteer or a leader, just go on Sundays. But somehow that feels meaningless to me. And I can't shake that feeling. Sometimes I go and I feel moved and inspired, but most of the time I feel like I'm just fulfilling an obligation. Until I figure out a way to reconcile this I’m not going to go to church out of sense of duty or for that “checklist” of Christianity.
In that post there was the statement, “So, if you don’t want to be a very real part of that community now, you won’t want to be a part of that very real community in heaven for eternity." Do I need to go to church to be a real part of a community? Are only churches real communities? I'm not sure.
This was something that struck me as a spotty church attender. I think the last time I attended church here was last summer, maybe fall. It's nothing against the church here. I think they do great things and I really enjoy one of the pastors. I still listen to some of his sermons on line. It was just a sense that I didn't feel like I really belonged. I got tired of the people we know there questioning our absence whenever we would come. "We haven't seen you at church for awhile, where have you been?" I know their intentions are good but it's exhausting to feel obligation to go and sit in a room every Sunday. It's supposed to be meaningful but what if it's not?
This year was the first Easter Sunday I didn’t go to church. My husband and I woke up, looked at each other and said, we haven’t been going regularly any other Sunday, it doesn’t feel honest or sincere to go this Sunday so we won’t.
Frankly, our friends and family have made us regret that decision because we’ve gotten so much grief for not attending church on Easter Sunday. No one seemed to be that bothered that we hadn’t gone for the previous 3 months of Sundays but that we didn’t go on Easter Sunday was horrible. Next year we will probably go to church whether we’re attending or not just to avoid the post-Easter fallout. I imagine there are a lot of people like us out there who go on Christmas and Easter to make family members happy, not to try to pull a fast one over on Jesus.
Church and church attendance and the idea that I need that community is something I’m struggling with in my life right now. I have an amazing, supportive, wonderful group of friends, believers and nonbelievers, that challenge and inspire me. Do I need church as well? I spent Easter Sunday praying and thinking over the Great Commission and talking about it with my brother. Would I have gotten more out of my spiritual life that day if I had gone to church?
In my past experience I have found that the church swallows me up and takes over my life to the point that I don’t feel like I am helping a single person in my life who is not a Christian. I’m also anxious about avoiding the propaganda of the Christian culture that often gets presented hand in hand with the gospel. I am wary of trusting a pastor, a fallible human, to tell me something true.
Every Sunday you go to church and you sing some songs and you hear a man (or woman) tell you what they found significant that week. They were struck by a verse or a book they read and now here is your challenge for the week: we should read a Psalm a day, pray for an hour, read this book, make a goal in your spiritual life, find a non-Christian to pray for, ask someone to come with us next Sunday. Every week there's something and it's really easy for me to just try to do my Christian homework each week and let that be my spiritual life. I can hang with the other Christians and we can talk about our struggles sharing our faith or being a submissive wife or having daily quiet times. We'll pray for each other and smile and go about our day. And we'll have real friendships with each other. But what about everyone else?
Maybe this is a personal problem but when I was in college and deeply involved in my church, that was my life. I was a Bible study leader and I had church activities 5-6 days a week. I didn't have other friends. I didn't do other things. I don't really want to regret that because I loved my friends and I loved my time in college. But I think I was very restricted in my understanding of the world around me and of the people I was trying to "save." I don't want to be like that anymore.
I tried to go to church more casually. Attend but not be involved so much. Not be a volunteer or a leader, just go on Sundays. But somehow that feels meaningless to me. And I can't shake that feeling. Sometimes I go and I feel moved and inspired, but most of the time I feel like I'm just fulfilling an obligation. Until I figure out a way to reconcile this I’m not going to go to church out of sense of duty or for that “checklist” of Christianity.
In that post there was the statement, “So, if you don’t want to be a very real part of that community now, you won’t want to be a part of that very real community in heaven for eternity." Do I need to go to church to be a real part of a community? Are only churches real communities? I'm not sure.
Monday, April 16, 2012
On Life and Death
Today is a day I always feel melancholy and introspective. As a Virginia Tech alumni, the terrible, tragic events of this day five years ago still shake my heart. Every year I think of how terrified I was while I waited to hear from friends and family on campus. I remember having my first (and I hope only) panic attack at grad school when people talked badly about my town and called me cold-hearted for coming to class, though I had no choice if I wanted to pass. I remember watching TV with my fellow Hokies in LA while we all talked about how much we wanted to go home.
Blacksburg is my home. Born and raised. It's in my blood and I love that place. And I hate that it is tarnished by tragedy but I love that my Hokie family stood strong under the scrutiny and responded with love, courage and poetry (thank you Nikki Giovanni). So I will also spend this day thinking of love, courage and poetry; celebrating life in the face of death and that I believe we are very eternal, mysterious, amazing beings.
Why, then, do we have to be human
and keep running from the fate
we long for?
Oh, not because of such a thing as happiness—
that fleeting gift before loss begins.
Not from curiosity, or to exercise the heart...
But because simply to be here is so much
and because what is here seems to need us,
this vanishing world that concerns us strangely—
us, the most vanishing of all. Once
for each, only once. Once and no more.
And we too: just once. Never again. But
to have lived even once,
to have been of Earth—that cannot be taken from us.
-Ranier Maria Rilke
(Another translation as Rilke wrote in German and I think each translation is very profound)
Why, then have to be human?
Oh, not because happiness exists,
Nor out of curiosity...
But because being here means so much;
Because everything here,
Vanishing so quickly, seems to need us,
And strangely keeps calling to us…
To have been
Here once, completely, even if only once,
To have been at one with the earth -
This is beyond undoing.
Blacksburg is my home. Born and raised. It's in my blood and I love that place. And I hate that it is tarnished by tragedy but I love that my Hokie family stood strong under the scrutiny and responded with love, courage and poetry (thank you Nikki Giovanni). So I will also spend this day thinking of love, courage and poetry; celebrating life in the face of death and that I believe we are very eternal, mysterious, amazing beings.
Why, then, do we have to be human
and keep running from the fate
we long for?
Oh, not because of such a thing as happiness—
that fleeting gift before loss begins.
Not from curiosity, or to exercise the heart...
But because simply to be here is so much
and because what is here seems to need us,
this vanishing world that concerns us strangely—
us, the most vanishing of all. Once
for each, only once. Once and no more.
And we too: just once. Never again. But
to have lived even once,
to have been of Earth—that cannot be taken from us.
-Ranier Maria Rilke
(Another translation as Rilke wrote in German and I think each translation is very profound)
Why, then have to be human?
Oh, not because happiness exists,
Nor out of curiosity...
But because being here means so much;
Because everything here,
Vanishing so quickly, seems to need us,
And strangely keeps calling to us…
To have been
Here once, completely, even if only once,
To have been at one with the earth -
This is beyond undoing.
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