This is a photo I found on the web of a bird we saw in our own front yard at the feeder just now. I have never seen one before. I love birds and feel Father has remembered me each time I see a pretty one.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Painted Bunting
This is a photo I found on the web of a bird we saw in our own front yard at the feeder just now. I have never seen one before. I love birds and feel Father has remembered me each time I see a pretty one.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Minnows
One of my favorite parts of fishing is catching minnows. This is especially fun in a creek with running water. For those of you who aren’t fishermen, a minnow jar is a wide-mouthed jar with a funnel-shaped cone that screws onto the lid and goes down into the jar. You set it against a rock so it won’t wash away, with the mouth of the jar turned downstream. Add a few wads of cheap Wonder bread, and watch the magic.
One minnow will see that interesting white blob and make a run for it. Next thing you know, he’s happily feasting! Wow! Wonder Bread! Much more exciting and yummy than microorganisms and tiny bits of plant matter. Soon, another hapless minnow comes along and sees excited flashes of a brother minnow ahead. He must be missing something! He goes over to join his brother and soon the two of them are gobbling up the soggy Wonder bread.
Before you know it, several other minnow brothers and sisters have joined the feeding frenzy. It just gets easier to attract newcomers, the more flashing fish there are in that packed little minnow jar. Surely there is something great in there, and so more and more come and join the frenzy.
There are a few interesting things to note here. First of all, Wonder bread, while bright and exciting, was never God-intended to be a healthy source of nourishment for fish (or people, for that matter). Second, the more fish show up in the jar, the more buzz and activity there is, but the less actual food is available. Third, and most importantly, once they get in there, they’re trapped.
They wait in the jar for their time of use. Then, they have a hook shoved in their backside. They can still flail around, but they can't go anywhere. Inevitably, their purpose in life is to bait another, bigger fish… once their job is done, they’re disposed of. Either they get eaten by a bigger fish, or they die on the line waiting for one to come along. Then they are tossed out and another minnow is captured and put in their place.
This post was inspired by my wonderful country-boy husband.
One minnow will see that interesting white blob and make a run for it. Next thing you know, he’s happily feasting! Wow! Wonder Bread! Much more exciting and yummy than microorganisms and tiny bits of plant matter. Soon, another hapless minnow comes along and sees excited flashes of a brother minnow ahead. He must be missing something! He goes over to join his brother and soon the two of them are gobbling up the soggy Wonder bread.
Before you know it, several other minnow brothers and sisters have joined the feeding frenzy. It just gets easier to attract newcomers, the more flashing fish there are in that packed little minnow jar. Surely there is something great in there, and so more and more come and join the frenzy.
There are a few interesting things to note here. First of all, Wonder bread, while bright and exciting, was never God-intended to be a healthy source of nourishment for fish (or people, for that matter). Second, the more fish show up in the jar, the more buzz and activity there is, but the less actual food is available. Third, and most importantly, once they get in there, they’re trapped.
They wait in the jar for their time of use. Then, they have a hook shoved in their backside. They can still flail around, but they can't go anywhere. Inevitably, their purpose in life is to bait another, bigger fish… once their job is done, they’re disposed of. Either they get eaten by a bigger fish, or they die on the line waiting for one to come along. Then they are tossed out and another minnow is captured and put in their place.
This post was inspired by my wonderful country-boy husband.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
The Baby and the Bath Water
One of the things we ‘free believers’ hear often from those who still faithfully attend an IC is, "Well, you don’t want to just throw the baby out with the bath water." The implied meaning may vary from "Do you really have to be so extreme?" to "Your leaving organized church is the same as leaving the Lord" to "Are you sure you aren’t getting into some New Age religion?"
Our family is considering moving to a place closer to town, so have begun casually looking. We want a fixer-upper, not a new home. So last weekend we were shown … let’s just say, a REAL fixer upper.
This house was once beautiful, but had been so badly neglected for many years that only someone with lots of money and time to invest would want to try and salvage it. The cost of repairing this house to full functionality would far exceed any market price of the house itself. It just wouldn’t be practical for a busy family with modest means to take the time, money and labor to try and restore this house.
I sighed with regret, seeing the beautiful hardwood floors still in great shape in some of the rooms, the large windows, the huge living area, the brick fireplace in the bedroom. There was so much personality and history to this place. Yet there was the old, leaky roof; the serious foundation issues obvious in the floor, the laundry porch literally falling off of the house, the large lawn completely overtaken by weeds, the falling-down carport loaded with junk. Worst of all, there was a large split between the two halves of the house in the roof, and the brick wall on one side had completely pulled away from the roof! It COULD possibly be salvaged, but much of it would still have to be torn down and replaced. I’m often one for trying to save things. I love old homes; we live in one now. Yet I could see it would make more sense to just tear that place down and build a new one.
Many "free believers" have found that trying to salvage the situation at the institutions we’ve been in is more than we, or our families, can really afford. We gave them our time, our money, our efforts, our hearts, our children. We were told that we’d "reap a harvest" by "sowing" as they specified. It didn’t happen as they said. We became more and more tired, drained, and discouraged as time went on.
We sat under some of the better pastors out there, I believe. I really can’t pin the fault on anyone, nor do I want to. I believe the primary issue was with the system, rather than the hearts of the people inside of it. We were trying to build on, or even salvage, a ‘house’ with serious structural flaws.
Darin Hufford wrote a blog that distinguished what the bottom line misunderstanding often is. People tend to see the institution as the baby. That’s why they worry that we are throwing the baby out with the bath water. But really, Jesus is the ‘baby,’ and we aren’t throwing him out… he’s with us always. Now we’re just swimming in a different place ... now it’s more like a river than a bathtub.
Our family is considering moving to a place closer to town, so have begun casually looking. We want a fixer-upper, not a new home. So last weekend we were shown … let’s just say, a REAL fixer upper.
This house was once beautiful, but had been so badly neglected for many years that only someone with lots of money and time to invest would want to try and salvage it. The cost of repairing this house to full functionality would far exceed any market price of the house itself. It just wouldn’t be practical for a busy family with modest means to take the time, money and labor to try and restore this house.
I sighed with regret, seeing the beautiful hardwood floors still in great shape in some of the rooms, the large windows, the huge living area, the brick fireplace in the bedroom. There was so much personality and history to this place. Yet there was the old, leaky roof; the serious foundation issues obvious in the floor, the laundry porch literally falling off of the house, the large lawn completely overtaken by weeds, the falling-down carport loaded with junk. Worst of all, there was a large split between the two halves of the house in the roof, and the brick wall on one side had completely pulled away from the roof! It COULD possibly be salvaged, but much of it would still have to be torn down and replaced. I’m often one for trying to save things. I love old homes; we live in one now. Yet I could see it would make more sense to just tear that place down and build a new one.
Many "free believers" have found that trying to salvage the situation at the institutions we’ve been in is more than we, or our families, can really afford. We gave them our time, our money, our efforts, our hearts, our children. We were told that we’d "reap a harvest" by "sowing" as they specified. It didn’t happen as they said. We became more and more tired, drained, and discouraged as time went on.
We sat under some of the better pastors out there, I believe. I really can’t pin the fault on anyone, nor do I want to. I believe the primary issue was with the system, rather than the hearts of the people inside of it. We were trying to build on, or even salvage, a ‘house’ with serious structural flaws.
Darin Hufford wrote a blog that distinguished what the bottom line misunderstanding often is. People tend to see the institution as the baby. That’s why they worry that we are throwing the baby out with the bath water. But really, Jesus is the ‘baby,’ and we aren’t throwing him out… he’s with us always. Now we’re just swimming in a different place ... now it’s more like a river than a bathtub.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Walking with Jesus
"He grew up before him like a tender shoot,
and like a root out of dry ground.
He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,
nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.
He was despised and rejected by men,
a man of sorrows and familiar with suffering.
Like one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not."
Isaiah 53:2-3
When I was in the sixth grade, I wasn’t what most people considered cute. I was tall and gangly, with buck teeth, a big nose and unkempt hair. Two other sixth graders, whom I’ll call "Buffy" and "Fifi," made life torture for me that year. Among the most cute and popular girls in our grade, Buffy and Fifi sauntered about in their Calvin Klein jeans and top-of-the line Nike tennis shoes, chattering with their numerous friends. But they took breaks from socializing at regular intervals to torment me.
Each morning they cornered me in homeroom, then again in math class, making fun of my clothes, my hair, my lack of friends, or any other thing they could think of to make me feel small and stupid. Fifi would make ugly remarks, and when I'd retort, Buffy would mimick whatever I said in her high, squeaky voice. Sometimes other kids would sit in on the 'fun' and add their own two cents worth.
The daily bus ritual was the worst. Somehow I got stuck sitting by them nearly every day, I couldn’t get away from them. They would pull my barrettes out of my hair, pull my papers and books loose from my stack, scathingly tease me and call me names until I was nearly in tears. I would hear their taunting laughter sail through the open bus windows as I tried to make sense of my tattered belongings once I got off at my stop. Sometimes they'd do me the courtesy of returning my barettes or books via chucking them through the bus window, sometimes not. More than once I fished my wadded-up math homework out of a rain puddle. I always managed to hold back the tears until the bus was out of sight.
"The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head. They clothed him in a purple robe and went up to him again and again, saying, ‘Hail, king of the Jews!’ And they struck him in the face.’" John 19:2-3
It seems detrimental to dwell on such experiences as my sixth grade year. So I haven’t allowed myself to pull the experience out of the file cabinet of my mind and examine it for quite some time. Yet for some reason it has surfaced and stayed in the forefront of my mind, a couple of weeks after my "going to church" experience.
I’m not totally clear on the connection here myself, as there is still a gap between the people I liked the least at IC on their worst day, and Buffy and Fifi on their best (if they had one) day. Yet perhaps Father has brought the sixth grade experience to mind to remind me of a couple of things.
First, being happy, comfortable, popular, and having a place you ‘fit’ does not necessarily mean you are living with a right heart or doing as Father would want. Second, even if you are unattractive, mocked, lacking a circle of friends, a 'misfit' and badly outnumbered, it does not necessarily mean you have done anything wrong or that you aren't where Father intends you to be.
I’ve never truly understood how suffering is supposed to help mold us into the image of God. It is counter-cultural, both in and out of the church, to see suffering as anything but a result of your failure in some way. Hence my struggles in accepting suffering even now. It’s going to take time for me to ‘get’ this, but I’m at least beginning to understand.
One day recently I was praying, again telling Father how this path feels like traveling through west Texas and I really don’t want to be wrong. I want my heart to be conformed to his, and things sure don’t look too promising on the outside. If it’s him leading me, I will go wherever he leads. Yet we’ve all heard the name calling and perhaps at low points wondered if it's true. Unrepentant, unteachable, unsubmissive, "Jezebel spirit," lone ranger Christian, rebellious.
It can make a person feel a little crazy some days. In sixth grade I would walk home from the bus stop crying, wondering why a girl like me who was never mean to anyone was viewed and treated as a nobody. And why these mean girls had SO many friends and apparently no one else was ever bothered by (or hardly even noticed) the things I saw! If I could have put myself into a Transformer machine and come out with a cute new face, new Calvin Klein jeans and a vivacious personality, I would have.
I'd be hard pressed to believe that anyone staying on this 'out of the box' path for any length of time just said, "hey, that emergent church thing looks trendy, I think I'll go hop on that bandwagon." If I had any reason to believe I could go ‘back to church,’ find a good fit, and actually grow and thrive spiritually, I’d be there this Sunday! It might be easier to be happily oblivous to the things we wrestle with and yearn for. We could just put on a nice Sunday dress and go Belong to the Sunday crowd. No, we don’t walk off the beaten path because we enjoy being labeled or looked down on. We as humans naturally tend to take the path of least resistance. Walking through west Texas is something I'd only want to do with the Lord! He calls us, and he equips us, even though we may struggle and suffer along the way.
As a Christian, the most frustrating part of not fitting in is wondering when Father is going to finish working it all together for good. I’m still waiting to see the kingdom purpose in a lot of the things I’ve suffered. Waiting is hard.
But as I prayed I felt Father take me by the shoulders and hold me comfortingly and firmly. It’s all right, he said. It’s gonna be fine.
and like a root out of dry ground.
He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,
nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.
He was despised and rejected by men,
a man of sorrows and familiar with suffering.
Like one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not."
Isaiah 53:2-3
When I was in the sixth grade, I wasn’t what most people considered cute. I was tall and gangly, with buck teeth, a big nose and unkempt hair. Two other sixth graders, whom I’ll call "Buffy" and "Fifi," made life torture for me that year. Among the most cute and popular girls in our grade, Buffy and Fifi sauntered about in their Calvin Klein jeans and top-of-the line Nike tennis shoes, chattering with their numerous friends. But they took breaks from socializing at regular intervals to torment me.
Each morning they cornered me in homeroom, then again in math class, making fun of my clothes, my hair, my lack of friends, or any other thing they could think of to make me feel small and stupid. Fifi would make ugly remarks, and when I'd retort, Buffy would mimick whatever I said in her high, squeaky voice. Sometimes other kids would sit in on the 'fun' and add their own two cents worth.
The daily bus ritual was the worst. Somehow I got stuck sitting by them nearly every day, I couldn’t get away from them. They would pull my barrettes out of my hair, pull my papers and books loose from my stack, scathingly tease me and call me names until I was nearly in tears. I would hear their taunting laughter sail through the open bus windows as I tried to make sense of my tattered belongings once I got off at my stop. Sometimes they'd do me the courtesy of returning my barettes or books via chucking them through the bus window, sometimes not. More than once I fished my wadded-up math homework out of a rain puddle. I always managed to hold back the tears until the bus was out of sight.
"The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head. They clothed him in a purple robe and went up to him again and again, saying, ‘Hail, king of the Jews!’ And they struck him in the face.’" John 19:2-3
It seems detrimental to dwell on such experiences as my sixth grade year. So I haven’t allowed myself to pull the experience out of the file cabinet of my mind and examine it for quite some time. Yet for some reason it has surfaced and stayed in the forefront of my mind, a couple of weeks after my "going to church" experience.
I’m not totally clear on the connection here myself, as there is still a gap between the people I liked the least at IC on their worst day, and Buffy and Fifi on their best (if they had one) day. Yet perhaps Father has brought the sixth grade experience to mind to remind me of a couple of things.
First, being happy, comfortable, popular, and having a place you ‘fit’ does not necessarily mean you are living with a right heart or doing as Father would want. Second, even if you are unattractive, mocked, lacking a circle of friends, a 'misfit' and badly outnumbered, it does not necessarily mean you have done anything wrong or that you aren't where Father intends you to be.
I’ve never truly understood how suffering is supposed to help mold us into the image of God. It is counter-cultural, both in and out of the church, to see suffering as anything but a result of your failure in some way. Hence my struggles in accepting suffering even now. It’s going to take time for me to ‘get’ this, but I’m at least beginning to understand.
One day recently I was praying, again telling Father how this path feels like traveling through west Texas and I really don’t want to be wrong. I want my heart to be conformed to his, and things sure don’t look too promising on the outside. If it’s him leading me, I will go wherever he leads. Yet we’ve all heard the name calling and perhaps at low points wondered if it's true. Unrepentant, unteachable, unsubmissive, "Jezebel spirit," lone ranger Christian, rebellious.
It can make a person feel a little crazy some days. In sixth grade I would walk home from the bus stop crying, wondering why a girl like me who was never mean to anyone was viewed and treated as a nobody. And why these mean girls had SO many friends and apparently no one else was ever bothered by (or hardly even noticed) the things I saw! If I could have put myself into a Transformer machine and come out with a cute new face, new Calvin Klein jeans and a vivacious personality, I would have.
I'd be hard pressed to believe that anyone staying on this 'out of the box' path for any length of time just said, "hey, that emergent church thing looks trendy, I think I'll go hop on that bandwagon." If I had any reason to believe I could go ‘back to church,’ find a good fit, and actually grow and thrive spiritually, I’d be there this Sunday! It might be easier to be happily oblivous to the things we wrestle with and yearn for. We could just put on a nice Sunday dress and go Belong to the Sunday crowd. No, we don’t walk off the beaten path because we enjoy being labeled or looked down on. We as humans naturally tend to take the path of least resistance. Walking through west Texas is something I'd only want to do with the Lord! He calls us, and he equips us, even though we may struggle and suffer along the way.
As a Christian, the most frustrating part of not fitting in is wondering when Father is going to finish working it all together for good. I’m still waiting to see the kingdom purpose in a lot of the things I’ve suffered. Waiting is hard.
But as I prayed I felt Father take me by the shoulders and hold me comfortingly and firmly. It’s all right, he said. It’s gonna be fine.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Going to church: an eye-opening experience
Due to our children’s participation in a youth program with an organized church outfit, we attended a service there this past weekend (the youth sang several songs and passed the offering plates). It had been some time since we’ve even dropped in on a service, and it’s interesting how my perspective has changed.
In some church services we’ve visited and attended over the years, it would have been a much more pleasant experience if we could have just skipped the pastor’s sermon. This was no exception. The music was nice. The people served us a nice potluck lunch. We know a few of them slightly and I’m sure they’re good people.
This pastor gave a sermon on making sure you attend "church." We’ve all heard the admonishments. Do not forsake the gathering. I shake my head at how unimaginative and unchanging these IC messages are. They are all variations on a theme: Come to church, preferably ours. Otherwise, something bad is sure to happen to you.
This pastor told a story that years ago I would have thought a clever illustration. A young man was backslidden; had stopped going to church. His pastor came to see him one evening, of course to check up on him and bring him back to the fold. The young man let the pastor in and the two sat by the blazing fire, not speaking for several minutes. Finally the pastor took the fireplace tongs, removed one ember and set it on the hearth. The two watched as the coal cooled, finally becoming completely cold.
The pastor turned to leave without a word, and the young man followed him with tears in his eyes and said, "I’ll be in church this week, pastor. Thank you for a wonderful sermon."
This story was enthusiastically received by the rest of the audience. Of course, the institutional interpretation of Hebrews 10:25 was admonished from the pulpit. Then several more comments from the pastor and the others in the congregation: "Go to church. Your fire for Jesus will eventually die out completely if you stay away from the group. You will become a 'dead coal.' We need each other. You need the fellowship. You need the accountability."
After witnessing this whole scene, I was left with several questions and ponderings of my own. Like:
1. Does this sort of thing really happen, just as told? Are born again Christians who quit "going to church" EVER truly backslidden? Is there really even such a thing? Or is this an oxymoron?
2. If the fire just dies, away from the group, what was the source of the fire in the first place? Real love and passion for the Lord, or group dynamics at work? Ever notice how a group of kids can get your kid to do something they’d NEVER do at home, be it good or bad? Ever notice how YOU have done things with a group that you’d never do alone? How can a PERSONAL relationship with Jesus possibly fit into this mentality? I know the Bible speaks of encouraging each other along in good works, but I’ve discovered that the average person doesn’t understand the difference between encouragement to do what you were made to do, and pressure to do as the group wants.
3. Most importantly, if a person is experiencing genuine love, acceptance, encouragement, and edification by participating in a group, why in the world would they ever want to leave??! I can really only imagine, but I have a hunch that if the church was functioning at even 75% capacity of what Father has in mind for us, they wouldn’t be able to barricade the doors of the gathering house strongly enough to keep folks out! I wonder if it would ever occur to this pastor (among many others) what a glaring indicator of something seriously amiss in the gathering, for the people of God to need an admonishment to "come to church."
4. The pastor was, essentially, telling the people that if they stopped attending 'church,' Jesus would leave them. I shake my head in sorrow that some people sit in pews and listen to this sort of teaching their whole lives. The lady sitting next to me mentioned she was 90 years old. That's a long time to live with fear that your Lord might leave you! Do some institutionalized Christians know true peace in the Lord in spite of such teachings? I hope so.
The whole "backslidden" idea doesn’t even make sense to me. Why would anyone experiencing an uplifting, authentic time with God and his people find sin or staying away more appealing? Even if they are struggling with sin, I think it’s more likely that they left because the IC is not a safe environment to reveal their struggles.
Yes, fellowship is important. Gathering in Jesus’ name is important. And this is where it gets sad. When the service was over I sighed with relief. Then I went to the ladies’ room and prayed. It saddens me to this day how far away I feel from most of my brothers and sisters. What are the answers, traveling down this long and often lonely road outside the box?
I have found some of them. I know that Jesus can and will keep me spiritually safe anywhere, anytime, in any circumstance. He is much bigger than the club house and their accountability program. I also see what Old Testament mentality so many Christians are stuck in. I see many reasons WHY "going to church" was largely such a miserable and frustrating experience for me. The main one being I never heard the simple and untainted gospel there! I know that I could never "go to church" again and I’d only long to know and love my Lord more.
I also know that the opposite of the "cooled coal" story is true with me. I could not, in my heart, even BEGIN to believe how much God loves me until I got AWAY from the institutional group and went down a less-traveled path with him. While being a 'good little Christian' and faithfully 'attending church,' I was dying inside. I was steadily being strangled with the ropes of bondage that the institutional mindsets had me tied up in. A hundred different Jesuses were propped up before me over the years, and in my heart I was crying, "Will the real Jesus stand up!!" And finally, I am seeing him. He's so simple and pure, it's awesome.
It isn't easy being 'outside the box' in some ways. But I couldn't, for a minute, trade knowing that he loves me, and that IT IS FINISHED just like He said.
Yet some answers are still disquietingly absent. For all their faulty doctrine, the people inside the walls still get to experience a certain degree of structure and fellowship that I miss having. I never really fit in during my days of attending IC, yet I wonder how long will I remain isolated outside? Will I ever get to experience satisfying face to face Christian fellowship as a regular part of life? What purpose does my being different and failure to fit into any church box really serve?? This last question is the heaviest of all on my heart.
I recently had a conversation with Darin Hufford in which he talked about eccentricity being a heart set aside for a special and unique purpose. I know Darin has gone through a lot of rejection and isolation as a result of being different. I also know that what God has done in him and through him is incredible. He has offered hope to many system burnouts who had all but given up hope. He is one of those few and far between Christians who is trying to BE Christ to others, rather than just talk about him.
I am praying for Father to show me that he has special plans for me too, because I am different and set apart for something unique. I will travel as far down this road as Father leads me to if it is truly him leading me. But it can be like traveling through west Texas. If any of you have ever done that you know exactly what I mean. I sure as heck don’t want to be going down this road and not even be on the right road. When you’re traveling through west Texas, you keep a sharp eye out for any road sign telling how many more miles to your destination, otherwise you might start wondering if you just missed it and they’re gonna find your skull next to the one of the longhorn cow lying next to the cactus. I don’t see any road signs and that makes me nervous sometimes.
Father, give me ever-growing perspective. Get me through these times of uncertainty with ever-stronger faith.
"May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it." 1 Thessalonians 5:23-24
In some church services we’ve visited and attended over the years, it would have been a much more pleasant experience if we could have just skipped the pastor’s sermon. This was no exception. The music was nice. The people served us a nice potluck lunch. We know a few of them slightly and I’m sure they’re good people.
This pastor gave a sermon on making sure you attend "church." We’ve all heard the admonishments. Do not forsake the gathering. I shake my head at how unimaginative and unchanging these IC messages are. They are all variations on a theme: Come to church, preferably ours. Otherwise, something bad is sure to happen to you.
This pastor told a story that years ago I would have thought a clever illustration. A young man was backslidden; had stopped going to church. His pastor came to see him one evening, of course to check up on him and bring him back to the fold. The young man let the pastor in and the two sat by the blazing fire, not speaking for several minutes. Finally the pastor took the fireplace tongs, removed one ember and set it on the hearth. The two watched as the coal cooled, finally becoming completely cold.
The pastor turned to leave without a word, and the young man followed him with tears in his eyes and said, "I’ll be in church this week, pastor. Thank you for a wonderful sermon."
This story was enthusiastically received by the rest of the audience. Of course, the institutional interpretation of Hebrews 10:25 was admonished from the pulpit. Then several more comments from the pastor and the others in the congregation: "Go to church. Your fire for Jesus will eventually die out completely if you stay away from the group. You will become a 'dead coal.' We need each other. You need the fellowship. You need the accountability."
After witnessing this whole scene, I was left with several questions and ponderings of my own. Like:
1. Does this sort of thing really happen, just as told? Are born again Christians who quit "going to church" EVER truly backslidden? Is there really even such a thing? Or is this an oxymoron?
2. If the fire just dies, away from the group, what was the source of the fire in the first place? Real love and passion for the Lord, or group dynamics at work? Ever notice how a group of kids can get your kid to do something they’d NEVER do at home, be it good or bad? Ever notice how YOU have done things with a group that you’d never do alone? How can a PERSONAL relationship with Jesus possibly fit into this mentality? I know the Bible speaks of encouraging each other along in good works, but I’ve discovered that the average person doesn’t understand the difference between encouragement to do what you were made to do, and pressure to do as the group wants.
3. Most importantly, if a person is experiencing genuine love, acceptance, encouragement, and edification by participating in a group, why in the world would they ever want to leave??! I can really only imagine, but I have a hunch that if the church was functioning at even 75% capacity of what Father has in mind for us, they wouldn’t be able to barricade the doors of the gathering house strongly enough to keep folks out! I wonder if it would ever occur to this pastor (among many others) what a glaring indicator of something seriously amiss in the gathering, for the people of God to need an admonishment to "come to church."
4. The pastor was, essentially, telling the people that if they stopped attending 'church,' Jesus would leave them. I shake my head in sorrow that some people sit in pews and listen to this sort of teaching their whole lives. The lady sitting next to me mentioned she was 90 years old. That's a long time to live with fear that your Lord might leave you! Do some institutionalized Christians know true peace in the Lord in spite of such teachings? I hope so.
The whole "backslidden" idea doesn’t even make sense to me. Why would anyone experiencing an uplifting, authentic time with God and his people find sin or staying away more appealing? Even if they are struggling with sin, I think it’s more likely that they left because the IC is not a safe environment to reveal their struggles.
Yes, fellowship is important. Gathering in Jesus’ name is important. And this is where it gets sad. When the service was over I sighed with relief. Then I went to the ladies’ room and prayed. It saddens me to this day how far away I feel from most of my brothers and sisters. What are the answers, traveling down this long and often lonely road outside the box?
I have found some of them. I know that Jesus can and will keep me spiritually safe anywhere, anytime, in any circumstance. He is much bigger than the club house and their accountability program. I also see what Old Testament mentality so many Christians are stuck in. I see many reasons WHY "going to church" was largely such a miserable and frustrating experience for me. The main one being I never heard the simple and untainted gospel there! I know that I could never "go to church" again and I’d only long to know and love my Lord more.
I also know that the opposite of the "cooled coal" story is true with me. I could not, in my heart, even BEGIN to believe how much God loves me until I got AWAY from the institutional group and went down a less-traveled path with him. While being a 'good little Christian' and faithfully 'attending church,' I was dying inside. I was steadily being strangled with the ropes of bondage that the institutional mindsets had me tied up in. A hundred different Jesuses were propped up before me over the years, and in my heart I was crying, "Will the real Jesus stand up!!" And finally, I am seeing him. He's so simple and pure, it's awesome.
It isn't easy being 'outside the box' in some ways. But I couldn't, for a minute, trade knowing that he loves me, and that IT IS FINISHED just like He said.
Yet some answers are still disquietingly absent. For all their faulty doctrine, the people inside the walls still get to experience a certain degree of structure and fellowship that I miss having. I never really fit in during my days of attending IC, yet I wonder how long will I remain isolated outside? Will I ever get to experience satisfying face to face Christian fellowship as a regular part of life? What purpose does my being different and failure to fit into any church box really serve?? This last question is the heaviest of all on my heart.
I recently had a conversation with Darin Hufford in which he talked about eccentricity being a heart set aside for a special and unique purpose. I know Darin has gone through a lot of rejection and isolation as a result of being different. I also know that what God has done in him and through him is incredible. He has offered hope to many system burnouts who had all but given up hope. He is one of those few and far between Christians who is trying to BE Christ to others, rather than just talk about him.
I am praying for Father to show me that he has special plans for me too, because I am different and set apart for something unique. I will travel as far down this road as Father leads me to if it is truly him leading me. But it can be like traveling through west Texas. If any of you have ever done that you know exactly what I mean. I sure as heck don’t want to be going down this road and not even be on the right road. When you’re traveling through west Texas, you keep a sharp eye out for any road sign telling how many more miles to your destination, otherwise you might start wondering if you just missed it and they’re gonna find your skull next to the one of the longhorn cow lying next to the cactus. I don’t see any road signs and that makes me nervous sometimes.
Father, give me ever-growing perspective. Get me through these times of uncertainty with ever-stronger faith.
"May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it." 1 Thessalonians 5:23-24
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
North and South
Here's a geography lesson for everyone, as I try to work on a more 'serious' blog.
Clip Art Of.com ~ Royalty-free Redneck Clipart, Redneck Illustrations
Posted using ShareThis
The North has Bloomingdale's, the South has Dollar
General.
The North has coffee houses, the South has Waffle Houses.
The North has dating services, the South has family
reunions.
The North has switchblade knives; the South has Lee
Press-on Nails.
The North has double last names; the South has double first
names.
The North has Indy car races; The South has stock car
races.
North has Cream of Wheat, the South has grits.
The North has green salads, the South has collard greens.
The North has lobsters, the South has craw fish.
The North has the rust belt; the South has the Bible Belt.
FOR NORTHERNERS MOVING SOUTH . . .
In the South: --If you run your car into a ditch, don't
panic. Four men in a four-wheel drive pickup truck with a
tow chain will be along shortly. Don't try to help them,
just stay out of their way.
This is what they live for.
Don't be surprised to find movie rentals and bait in
the same store....
do not buy food at this store.
Remember, 'Y'all' is singular, 'all
y'all' is plural,
and 'all y'all's' is plural possessive
Get used to hearing 'You ain't from round here, are
ya?'
Save all manner of bacon grease.
You will be instructed later on how to use it.
Don't be worried at not understanding what people are
saying. They can't understand you either. The first
Southern statement to creep into a transplanted
Northerner's vocabulary is the adjective
'big'ol,' truck or 'big'ol' boy.
Most Northerners begin their Southern-influenced dialect
this way. All of them are in denial about it.
The proper pronunciation you learned in school is no longer
proper!
Be advised that 'He needed killin.' is a valid
defense here.
If you hear a Southerner exclaim, 'Hey, y'all watch
this,' you should stay out of the way. These are likely
to be the last words he'll ever say.
If there is the prediction of the slightest chance of even
the smallest accumulation of snow, your presence is required
at the local grocery store. It doesn't matter whether
you need anything or not.
You just have to go there.
Do not be surprised to find that 10-year olds own their own
shotguns, they are proficient marksmen, and their mammas
taught them how to aim.
In the South, we have found that the best way to grow a
lush green lawn is to pour gravel on it and call it a
driveway.
AND REMEMBER: If you do settle in the South and bear
children, don't think we will accept them as
Southerners. After all, if the cat had kittens in the oven,
we wouldn't call 'em biscuits.
*****
Agin, from some unnamed clever source on the internet - hope you n' your kin git a kick out of it!
Clip Art Of.com ~ Royalty-free Redneck Clipart, Redneck Illustrations
Posted using ShareThis
The North has Bloomingdale's, the South has Dollar
General.
The North has coffee houses, the South has Waffle Houses.
The North has dating services, the South has family
reunions.
The North has switchblade knives; the South has Lee
Press-on Nails.
The North has double last names; the South has double first
names.
The North has Indy car races; The South has stock car
races.
North has Cream of Wheat, the South has grits.
The North has green salads, the South has collard greens.
The North has lobsters, the South has craw fish.
The North has the rust belt; the South has the Bible Belt.
FOR NORTHERNERS MOVING SOUTH . . .
In the South: --If you run your car into a ditch, don't
panic. Four men in a four-wheel drive pickup truck with a
tow chain will be along shortly. Don't try to help them,
just stay out of their way.
This is what they live for.
Don't be surprised to find movie rentals and bait in
the same store....
do not buy food at this store.
Remember, 'Y'all' is singular, 'all
y'all' is plural,
and 'all y'all's' is plural possessive
Get used to hearing 'You ain't from round here, are
ya?'
Save all manner of bacon grease.
You will be instructed later on how to use it.
Don't be worried at not understanding what people are
saying. They can't understand you either. The first
Southern statement to creep into a transplanted
Northerner's vocabulary is the adjective
'big'ol,' truck or 'big'ol' boy.
Most Northerners begin their Southern-influenced dialect
this way. All of them are in denial about it.
The proper pronunciation you learned in school is no longer
proper!
Be advised that 'He needed killin.' is a valid
defense here.
If you hear a Southerner exclaim, 'Hey, y'all watch
this,' you should stay out of the way. These are likely
to be the last words he'll ever say.
If there is the prediction of the slightest chance of even
the smallest accumulation of snow, your presence is required
at the local grocery store. It doesn't matter whether
you need anything or not.
You just have to go there.
Do not be surprised to find that 10-year olds own their own
shotguns, they are proficient marksmen, and their mammas
taught them how to aim.
In the South, we have found that the best way to grow a
lush green lawn is to pour gravel on it and call it a
driveway.
AND REMEMBER: If you do settle in the South and bear
children, don't think we will accept them as
Southerners. After all, if the cat had kittens in the oven,
we wouldn't call 'em biscuits.
*****
Agin, from some unnamed clever source on the internet - hope you n' your kin git a kick out of it!
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Invalidation ... and loneliness
My free-believing sister Dena sent this link discussing a serious wound that we as human beings inflict on each other - invalidation. I agree that it is one of the most damaging things we can do to one another. Browsing this link, I am reminded how sad it is when people are ready to kick others when they’re down and shoot them once they’re wounded.
There are of course many ways of invalidating a hurting person, but today I want to talk about invalidation of loneliness. We’ve all heard ideas such as this from the church:
"If you’re feeling lonely, it’s your fault. You’re too self-focused. You need to get out there and find someone to serve, someone to love. That will take the focus off you." Or to a person who is struggling with no one reaching out to them, "You don’t come to church to get your needs met. You are here to serve."
While there is sometimes truth to both statements, I’ve never understood how telling these things to a lonely person is supposed to help them. Like Job’s friends during his suffering, people tend to spout off all the religious truth they know, without really understanding (or bothering to find out) what is really going on with the lonely person in front of them.
Loneliness is not best dealt with by telling the person to pull themselves up by their boot straps and get over it. I think the common American IC view on loneliness is rooted in the famous myth, "The Lord (only) helps those who help themselves." The truth is, severe loneliness can be like trying to help yourself out of quicksand. Does the church mean to say that these people are out of luck until and unless they can do this?
Jesus knew he was dealing with some very lonely people indeed. After all, he talked to tax collectors and prostitutes all the time. But as I recall he prioritized making them feel loved, rather than making sure they knew their loneliness was "their fault." He validated them as human beings, he took the time to see their hurts. As Darin well stated in his Religion of Correction blog , correcting someone works much better after they have been made to feel safe and loved.
It’s true that we all share responsibility for the state of loneliness in today’s church culture. But, there is an important distinction between urging people to share the responsibility for loving one another (thus erasing loneliness) and blaming people for their own loneliness. Blame brings condemnation, but loving people and helping them see a better way brings conviction.
Jesus left the 99 sheep who were in the fold to go out and find the one that was lost. Now, this could be taken as a simple illustration of salvation, but I see meaning in this parable for believers. I’ve seen many IC situations where the 99 in the fold (the inner circle) having too much fun with their friends to notice the one standing shyly off to the side. I’ve cringed when I’ve heard pastors imply that the one who isn’t included is to blame for not trying hard enough to reach out.
It is always more convenient to blame the weak and hurting, than to take a look at the responsibility that the stronger person or group may hold in a situation. But as Wayne Jacobsen well put it in Naked Church, Jesus tended to measure the success of any ministry by how many of the weak were helped, not by how many of the strong muddied the pond.
My opinion is that the church would do better to spend more time bringing the problem of loneliness to the attention of happy, comfortable people who have lots of fellowship. Lonely people already feel like there's something wrong with them, why rub salt into their wounds? Jesus took on the role of a humble servant so the weak could draw near to him. Can we do the same for one another?
There are of course many ways of invalidating a hurting person, but today I want to talk about invalidation of loneliness. We’ve all heard ideas such as this from the church:
"If you’re feeling lonely, it’s your fault. You’re too self-focused. You need to get out there and find someone to serve, someone to love. That will take the focus off you." Or to a person who is struggling with no one reaching out to them, "You don’t come to church to get your needs met. You are here to serve."
While there is sometimes truth to both statements, I’ve never understood how telling these things to a lonely person is supposed to help them. Like Job’s friends during his suffering, people tend to spout off all the religious truth they know, without really understanding (or bothering to find out) what is really going on with the lonely person in front of them.
Loneliness is not best dealt with by telling the person to pull themselves up by their boot straps and get over it. I think the common American IC view on loneliness is rooted in the famous myth, "The Lord (only) helps those who help themselves." The truth is, severe loneliness can be like trying to help yourself out of quicksand. Does the church mean to say that these people are out of luck until and unless they can do this?
Jesus knew he was dealing with some very lonely people indeed. After all, he talked to tax collectors and prostitutes all the time. But as I recall he prioritized making them feel loved, rather than making sure they knew their loneliness was "their fault." He validated them as human beings, he took the time to see their hurts. As Darin well stated in his Religion of Correction blog , correcting someone works much better after they have been made to feel safe and loved.
It’s true that we all share responsibility for the state of loneliness in today’s church culture. But, there is an important distinction between urging people to share the responsibility for loving one another (thus erasing loneliness) and blaming people for their own loneliness. Blame brings condemnation, but loving people and helping them see a better way brings conviction.
Jesus left the 99 sheep who were in the fold to go out and find the one that was lost. Now, this could be taken as a simple illustration of salvation, but I see meaning in this parable for believers. I’ve seen many IC situations where the 99 in the fold (the inner circle) having too much fun with their friends to notice the one standing shyly off to the side. I’ve cringed when I’ve heard pastors imply that the one who isn’t included is to blame for not trying hard enough to reach out.
It is always more convenient to blame the weak and hurting, than to take a look at the responsibility that the stronger person or group may hold in a situation. But as Wayne Jacobsen well put it in Naked Church, Jesus tended to measure the success of any ministry by how many of the weak were helped, not by how many of the strong muddied the pond.
My opinion is that the church would do better to spend more time bringing the problem of loneliness to the attention of happy, comfortable people who have lots of fellowship. Lonely people already feel like there's something wrong with them, why rub salt into their wounds? Jesus took on the role of a humble servant so the weak could draw near to him. Can we do the same for one another?
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