I've always struggled to blog because the very concept of "blogging" creates a bit of conflict within me. It creates tension. As an occasional (frequent) non-conformist, I refuse to censor myself for the sake of any potential readers. Reasons I would need to censor myself are too great to list. As a former (habitual) teacher/pastor, I am unable to contain the thoughts that build up within me. So if I don't get them out somehow, such as writing here, in my gournal (Thanks, Paul Rudd), they tend to explode forth in short, passionate bursts to whoever is nearby, probably in a less friendly and coherent manner than they might, had they been written here, before such a build-up occurred.
The people pleasing entertainer that is a major part of my personality
causes me to want to write that which will get me approval. The rest of
me hates the idea of doing anything just for approval, since such a
motive is bound to taint the "honesty" of that endeavor. Not only that, but Paul's words in the beginning of Galatians, particular 1:10, have always struck me right in the heart. To give you a summary, in 1:5-9, the Apostle Paul is addressing the "fickleness" of the Galatian church, which leads him to his comment in 10 about not speaking for the approval of man, but rather for the approval of God. Of equal importance, Paul reminds his Galatian audience in v. 12 that he didn't receive the message he preaches from man or school, but rather he learned it from God.
And just so you have the context of the chapter in its entirety, Paul opens by establishing that he gained the authority to rebuke them not by winning a local church election (while everyone really wanted to get to lunch after church), but because he had been granted the authority by God. In vs 12-24, he tells the tale of his ministry. How he went from being a Jew who persecuted Christianity to a Christian who was miraculously taught of the Gospel, after which he immediately went to Arabia to begin preaching. All this without being commissioned by a local church or any sort of group of "Christian authority." He only briefly interacted with Peter, speaking with none of the other Apostles, during this whole period of ministry.
What does all of that demonstrate? It shows that Paul recognized the he was created to speak, even if he did so poorly, on occasion, purely for Jesus. May not seem like that great of a point, but if you compare his writings to the average sermon on a Sunday morning, you would probably see how difficult this can be to live out. To write and to preach only "for God" means finding a balance between grace and truth, knowing when to be blunt and when to be delicate, something Paul seems to do well, moving in and out of the NT books he wrote.
I'm rambling. As my title suggest, pain, which creates even more tension within me, causes me to separate myself from vulnerability. I know, this is true for a lot of people. This is especially exhausting for someone such as myself...an external processor. Someone who develops and pursues ideas and philosophies by talking through them. Or writing them. To refuse to allow those things within my brain to get out, I have had to learn to suppress them, or I would probably go insane. Who knows, maybe I've started to do a little of each. Ask Jenny. I'm sure she could vouch for the insanity part.
As much as I hate it, there's a strong part of me that desires approval. However, I seem to have developed, at some point, a part that is equally ok with an equal amount of disapproval. In other words, I want to know that you were listening, even if you hated what you heard. I think I need to find myself in a place where, like Paul, I'm more concerned with teaching the Truth than about the possible reactions.
I think most professional counselors would say that it's hard to work through any problems or deal with "issues" if they're aren't even being stated. So all of this was a lead-up to me beginning to state some of the things with which I have found myself wrestling for over 2 years. I know they're not new to the world or particularly groundbreaking, as I've read many books already pointing to their existence. However, I went from reading about them in books to finding myself wrestling with these particular issues.
I won't delve, yet, as this has already become lengthy, hence the "pt 1" in the title. My focus has run out, as has my cigar. So this is a good stopping point. Should you read it, comment or not. I don't care.
Monday, April 21, 2014
Monday, September 24, 2012
Indeed, I am a rebel. Long have I battled against everyone else. Regardless of the fight. And you may find me to be obnoxious. But, the truth is, without rebellion, there would be no Christian church.
Instead, the Son of God would have given in to His human nature, intent only on being a part of the system that had departed from its purpose for so long. Something that had lost touch with the heart of God, instead sucking the life from His Commandments, leaving only a skeleton of what the Law was supposed to achieve.
I'll agree that I pick fights over things that are petty. I do it because I'm amused by how tightly you hold on to those things. Or how desperately you want to fit with everyone else. In the end, neither of us are perfect, nor typically "right."
Then, I consider this:
1 Thessalonians 5:21
The Message (MSG)
19-22 Don’t suppress the Spirit, and don’t stifle those who have a word from the Master. On the other hand, don’t be gullible. Check out everything, and keep only what’s good. Throw out anything tainted with evil.
I have no desire to proof text this passage to justify anything I do. Simply to obey it. And what I read is "Don't be complacent. Continually seek to follow God, staying connected and refreshed, in constant communication with Him and study of His word." As for the evil part, I don't think that only means anything demonic. I'm pretty sure that selfish, instinctive actions fit, as well
In my journey to find my place in the Body of Christ, I've been a lot of places. Physically and philosophically. I'm not done, yet. I have definitely learned that I won't settle, though.
I think a part of why this particular passage was so important is that, as in Genesis, anything that man touches quickly moves from Godly to human. We convert the raw power of God into a weekly music set that quickly becomes devoid of that which made it special initially: Pursuit and praise of God. (Instead, focused on regaining an emotional response) Sometimes, we stick desperately to our guns, proclaiming that everyone around us has fallen to the wayside.
I'll end my rant with this:
24-26 Meanwhile, the boat was far out to sea when the wind came up against them and they were battered by the waves. At about four o’clock in the morning, Jesus came toward them walking on the water. They were scared out of their wits. “A ghost!” they said, crying out in terror.
27 But Jesus was quick to comfort them. “Courage, it’s me. Don’t be afraid.”
28 Peter, suddenly bold, said, “Master, if it’s really you, call me to come to you on the water.”
29-30 He said, “Come ahead.”
Jumping out of the boat, Peter walked on the water to Jesus. But when he looked down at the waves churning beneath his feet, he lost his nerve and started to sink. He cried, “Master, save me!”
The cliche and true sermon from this passage is that Peter fell apart the moment he lowered his gaze and changed his focus. Something I think most of us (All of us. Let's be honest) struggle with for our entire lives. If you don't agree, Paul said it first. (And even he was quoting someone older and wiser than him. Romans 3:10)
So though some may find me to be rebellious, perhaps I'm a less pleasant part of the Body. Or a large intestine. Something designed to filter out all the crap. The crap that we would otherwise accept as beneficial...while we slowly poisoned ourselves and died.
The end. Peace.
Instead, the Son of God would have given in to His human nature, intent only on being a part of the system that had departed from its purpose for so long. Something that had lost touch with the heart of God, instead sucking the life from His Commandments, leaving only a skeleton of what the Law was supposed to achieve.
I'll agree that I pick fights over things that are petty. I do it because I'm amused by how tightly you hold on to those things. Or how desperately you want to fit with everyone else. In the end, neither of us are perfect, nor typically "right."
Then, I consider this:
1 Thessalonians 5:21
The Message (MSG)
19-22 Don’t suppress the Spirit, and don’t stifle those who have a word from the Master. On the other hand, don’t be gullible. Check out everything, and keep only what’s good. Throw out anything tainted with evil.
I have no desire to proof text this passage to justify anything I do. Simply to obey it. And what I read is "Don't be complacent. Continually seek to follow God, staying connected and refreshed, in constant communication with Him and study of His word." As for the evil part, I don't think that only means anything demonic. I'm pretty sure that selfish, instinctive actions fit, as well
In my journey to find my place in the Body of Christ, I've been a lot of places. Physically and philosophically. I'm not done, yet. I have definitely learned that I won't settle, though.
I think a part of why this particular passage was so important is that, as in Genesis, anything that man touches quickly moves from Godly to human. We convert the raw power of God into a weekly music set that quickly becomes devoid of that which made it special initially: Pursuit and praise of God. (Instead, focused on regaining an emotional response) Sometimes, we stick desperately to our guns, proclaiming that everyone around us has fallen to the wayside.
I'll end my rant with this:
24-26 Meanwhile, the boat was far out to sea when the wind came up against them and they were battered by the waves. At about four o’clock in the morning, Jesus came toward them walking on the water. They were scared out of their wits. “A ghost!” they said, crying out in terror.
27 But Jesus was quick to comfort them. “Courage, it’s me. Don’t be afraid.”
28 Peter, suddenly bold, said, “Master, if it’s really you, call me to come to you on the water.”
29-30 He said, “Come ahead.”
Jumping out of the boat, Peter walked on the water to Jesus. But when he looked down at the waves churning beneath his feet, he lost his nerve and started to sink. He cried, “Master, save me!”
The cliche and true sermon from this passage is that Peter fell apart the moment he lowered his gaze and changed his focus. Something I think most of us (All of us. Let's be honest) struggle with for our entire lives. If you don't agree, Paul said it first. (And even he was quoting someone older and wiser than him. Romans 3:10)
So though some may find me to be rebellious, perhaps I'm a less pleasant part of the Body. Or a large intestine. Something designed to filter out all the crap. The crap that we would otherwise accept as beneficial...while we slowly poisoned ourselves and died.
The end. Peace.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Retort to an FB "friend" I deleted before I wrote this.
So interesting, the targeting of an entire group of people, based upon their particular struggle. Also interesting, Jesus revealed the sins of Peter before they happened...and still allowed him to become the "Rock upon which the Church would be built."
While I do not think that Christian beliefs should be swayed by political rhetoric, far too many "evangelicals" seem to have forgotten exactly what Jesus came to do. We leave off what comes after John 3:16. As if my narrow (and often less-than-loving) focus upon one particular struggle is more effective in convincing anyone of the will of God. A task that Paul seems to assign to...The Holy Spirit?
And another thing: Why do we use the word "conviction?" Paul uses such strong wording in relationship to "the courtroom." And that wording seems to point to something other than a conviction. Justification. Sins being atoned for and whatnot. Something not really akin to an attempt to denounce any sin or lifestyle on any sort of mass scale. If nothing else, it seems to point toward quite the opposite. The potential redemption of all of those former convicts.
I can't help but wonder if the Gospel of Jesus Christ has been changed from a message of restoration and renewal of life...into a burdensome, laborious yoke of slavery. One mostly entered into when one has "had the hell scared out of oneself." Given the number of "convicts" I've prayed with, I think I've been guilty of preaching a partial truth all too often.
God, help us know what it is you really want as a result of Your unconditional love. Is it our terrifying and cowed hearts? Or perhaps our humbled and endlessly grateful lives? I used to think some piece of the first possibility was an inevitability. That was when I was afraid of You turning Your back on me. Then I realized that Jesus had bled all over me.
P.S. Propitiation - Jenny wanted that included. Look it up.
While I do not think that Christian beliefs should be swayed by political rhetoric, far too many "evangelicals" seem to have forgotten exactly what Jesus came to do. We leave off what comes after John 3:16. As if my narrow (and often less-than-loving) focus upon one particular struggle is more effective in convincing anyone of the will of God. A task that Paul seems to assign to...The Holy Spirit?
And another thing: Why do we use the word "conviction?" Paul uses such strong wording in relationship to "the courtroom." And that wording seems to point to something other than a conviction. Justification. Sins being atoned for and whatnot. Something not really akin to an attempt to denounce any sin or lifestyle on any sort of mass scale. If nothing else, it seems to point toward quite the opposite. The potential redemption of all of those former convicts.
I can't help but wonder if the Gospel of Jesus Christ has been changed from a message of restoration and renewal of life...into a burdensome, laborious yoke of slavery. One mostly entered into when one has "had the hell scared out of oneself." Given the number of "convicts" I've prayed with, I think I've been guilty of preaching a partial truth all too often.
God, help us know what it is you really want as a result of Your unconditional love. Is it our terrifying and cowed hearts? Or perhaps our humbled and endlessly grateful lives? I used to think some piece of the first possibility was an inevitability. That was when I was afraid of You turning Your back on me. Then I realized that Jesus had bled all over me.
P.S. Propitiation - Jenny wanted that included. Look it up.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Random Thoughts on a...What Day is it?
God and Sinners
I think one of the greatest mental wrestling matches is over the issue of "what God thinks of us." Regardless of one's status as "in" or "out" in religion, I think people are concerned with how a "higher power" views them. I wish Christians had the philosophical fix to offer all people, but I can't help but wonder if Christians have confounded the idea more than we've cleaned it up.
I've often taught that the perfect, glorious God could not be present in the same place as an imperfect being. That imperfect would lose that fight and cease to live. I've cited the OT for this, pointing to the moment when a priest attempted to prevent the Ark from falling to the ground by bracing it with his hand...and he was burned instantly. Then, of course, there is the issue of the high priest entering the Holy of Holies annually, having to ensure, painstakingly, that he was purified.
But then I think of certain other instances. Adam and Eve after they had their moment of teenage impetuousness. Sure, they hid from God as He took a stroll through His creation. But they had a fairly long conversation. Then He clothed Adam in Calvin Klein underwear, 7 Jeans, Toms, and Ray Bans. And He made Eve "Eve's Secret" lingerie and some fancy designer dress. (I know, that's not in there. But God made the clothes. What have we ever made that can compare to something He Himself designed. Also, there was no one named Victoria. So only Eve had a secret.) I would wager that at some point during this talking and clothing part, they were up close and personal. Yet, they lived.
Mosed, of course, saw the back of God. God had protected him from being killed as He passed, placing His Hand over Moses. Then, Moses didn't need a torch for the rest of his days. He wore a veil so he wouldn't freak out his followers. But...back side or not, He was near God. He hadn't gone through any crazy purification rituals (they didn't exist yet.) but God had allowed him to continue drawing breath.
I'm skipping all over, but Jacob wrestled God, and simply received the first recorded case of hip dysplasia. No death there.
The greatest example. Jesus, who is God, was around all kinds of sin...eventually got covered by sin...and not only was He not incinerated, He came back for round 2. I can't entirely tell you what "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" meant...mostly because I'm not attempting to tackle 2 main ideas today. So table that. (And be careful. All kinds of implications with how you handle it.)
I really only needed 1 example to create doubt, and I've given several. So onto another thought.
Is it Truth that God and a sinful being cannot encounter one another, or do I simply want it to be? Or both? Why do I want it to be Truth?
I'm sure if any who believes in God, whether you claim to follow Him or not, examines his/her life, he/she must admit that, at some point(s), he/she has been guilty of "making God into his/her own image." What I mean by that is that we understand God in a way that is easier or more functional than what may really be true.
The whole Trinitarian idea would be made much simpler if we could say that Father, Son, and Spirit are separate individuals. Many have tried to push that view over 2000 years. The problem is that it isn't scripturally supported and it diminishes God to a more human-like state. Makes Him functional and acceptable.
I wonder if we have done something like this with "sin."
For instance, the idea of God and a flawed thing being mutually exclusive is great accountability. If I'm terrified that, should I enter the presence of God anytime soon, I will be destroyed, unless I'm flawless...then I'm more likely to avoid those things I know I should avoid. (Maybe.) The problem with this fear is that Jesus took care of that issue of "flaw."
In addition to making God "acceptable," I think sometimes, we really assume He thinks or works like we do.
A short scenario: Someone encounters God and Jesus, devotes his life to Jesus, beings to learn about Jesus and God from the Bible. Over time, what was originally about being set free becomes about being perfect or pure. Holy. This pursuit of holiness develops into an aversion of sin. (Which isn't necessarily good or bad, given our sometimes liberal use of the word "sin.") Given that this someone both consumed alcohol and smoked cigarettes regularly before he joined the club, he now sees those as absolute sin. He begins to tell his friends about their sinfulness. He tells them about Jesus. Some change, some don't. He begins to reject the ones who don't. Perhaps as a desire to stay away from the things that tempt him. Not only that, he now avoids places that have large doses of people who do those "sinful" things. All of this driven by the thought process that "God would want him to avoid sin."
The real problem with this (And I've seen it a billion times. Probably you, reader who is shaking your head at me.) is that was once about avoiding sin is now about avoiding people. This person has decided that God must think like him. i.e. a person's sin and the person are the same thing. Labels matter. Smoker, drinker, adulterer, etc. Those are the identities that individuals have chosen. God, who is holy, doesn't like sin, and those people have sinful labels, therefore He must not want me around them.
Not only does God not like sin, God hates sin. He is angry at sin. Therefore He must be angry at those people. etc etc etc. And that's how Westboro Baptist Church started.
But I think God hates the hurt and destruction that sin wreaks upon Creation more than anything. I think He was/is heartbroken by sin, corruption, and rejection.
More importantly than what I think, scripture seems to point to a God who was willing to do whatever it took to wake us up from our own spirals into death. He clothed Adam and Eve, He covered Moses with His hand, He sent His son to live, die, and then live again.
I'm not sure the word hate need remain in our vocabularies. I've heard people preach "hate sin." And I understand that. I think it's helpful for some. Except that hate is a powerful thing. It is the opposite of love. Not indifference. Hate is powerful and difficult to oppose.
I can't help but wonder if some people have begun to worship the hatred of sin instead of the One who ended the effects of sin. Avoidance of the imperfect has overpowered the realization that perfection came into the midst of the dirtiness and embraced it.
All this to say that God and this sinner grow ever tighter. Because He doesn't hate me. He never did. I hope and pray that I worship the God who Is, rather than making Him into something that fits what I need right now.
P.S. I welcome all thoughts and perspectives. This was written through an ADHD haze. So I'm sure it doesn't flow logically. I don't care. Have a nice day.
I think one of the greatest mental wrestling matches is over the issue of "what God thinks of us." Regardless of one's status as "in" or "out" in religion, I think people are concerned with how a "higher power" views them. I wish Christians had the philosophical fix to offer all people, but I can't help but wonder if Christians have confounded the idea more than we've cleaned it up.
I've often taught that the perfect, glorious God could not be present in the same place as an imperfect being. That imperfect would lose that fight and cease to live. I've cited the OT for this, pointing to the moment when a priest attempted to prevent the Ark from falling to the ground by bracing it with his hand...and he was burned instantly. Then, of course, there is the issue of the high priest entering the Holy of Holies annually, having to ensure, painstakingly, that he was purified.
But then I think of certain other instances. Adam and Eve after they had their moment of teenage impetuousness. Sure, they hid from God as He took a stroll through His creation. But they had a fairly long conversation. Then He clothed Adam in Calvin Klein underwear, 7 Jeans, Toms, and Ray Bans. And He made Eve "Eve's Secret" lingerie and some fancy designer dress. (I know, that's not in there. But God made the clothes. What have we ever made that can compare to something He Himself designed. Also, there was no one named Victoria. So only Eve had a secret.) I would wager that at some point during this talking and clothing part, they were up close and personal. Yet, they lived.
Mosed, of course, saw the back of God. God had protected him from being killed as He passed, placing His Hand over Moses. Then, Moses didn't need a torch for the rest of his days. He wore a veil so he wouldn't freak out his followers. But...back side or not, He was near God. He hadn't gone through any crazy purification rituals (they didn't exist yet.) but God had allowed him to continue drawing breath.
I'm skipping all over, but Jacob wrestled God, and simply received the first recorded case of hip dysplasia. No death there.
The greatest example. Jesus, who is God, was around all kinds of sin...eventually got covered by sin...and not only was He not incinerated, He came back for round 2. I can't entirely tell you what "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" meant...mostly because I'm not attempting to tackle 2 main ideas today. So table that. (And be careful. All kinds of implications with how you handle it.)
I really only needed 1 example to create doubt, and I've given several. So onto another thought.
Is it Truth that God and a sinful being cannot encounter one another, or do I simply want it to be? Or both? Why do I want it to be Truth?
I'm sure if any who believes in God, whether you claim to follow Him or not, examines his/her life, he/she must admit that, at some point(s), he/she has been guilty of "making God into his/her own image." What I mean by that is that we understand God in a way that is easier or more functional than what may really be true.
The whole Trinitarian idea would be made much simpler if we could say that Father, Son, and Spirit are separate individuals. Many have tried to push that view over 2000 years. The problem is that it isn't scripturally supported and it diminishes God to a more human-like state. Makes Him functional and acceptable.
I wonder if we have done something like this with "sin."
For instance, the idea of God and a flawed thing being mutually exclusive is great accountability. If I'm terrified that, should I enter the presence of God anytime soon, I will be destroyed, unless I'm flawless...then I'm more likely to avoid those things I know I should avoid. (Maybe.) The problem with this fear is that Jesus took care of that issue of "flaw."
In addition to making God "acceptable," I think sometimes, we really assume He thinks or works like we do.
A short scenario: Someone encounters God and Jesus, devotes his life to Jesus, beings to learn about Jesus and God from the Bible. Over time, what was originally about being set free becomes about being perfect or pure. Holy. This pursuit of holiness develops into an aversion of sin. (Which isn't necessarily good or bad, given our sometimes liberal use of the word "sin.") Given that this someone both consumed alcohol and smoked cigarettes regularly before he joined the club, he now sees those as absolute sin. He begins to tell his friends about their sinfulness. He tells them about Jesus. Some change, some don't. He begins to reject the ones who don't. Perhaps as a desire to stay away from the things that tempt him. Not only that, he now avoids places that have large doses of people who do those "sinful" things. All of this driven by the thought process that "God would want him to avoid sin."
The real problem with this (And I've seen it a billion times. Probably you, reader who is shaking your head at me.) is that was once about avoiding sin is now about avoiding people. This person has decided that God must think like him. i.e. a person's sin and the person are the same thing. Labels matter. Smoker, drinker, adulterer, etc. Those are the identities that individuals have chosen. God, who is holy, doesn't like sin, and those people have sinful labels, therefore He must not want me around them.
Not only does God not like sin, God hates sin. He is angry at sin. Therefore He must be angry at those people. etc etc etc. And that's how Westboro Baptist Church started.
But I think God hates the hurt and destruction that sin wreaks upon Creation more than anything. I think He was/is heartbroken by sin, corruption, and rejection.
More importantly than what I think, scripture seems to point to a God who was willing to do whatever it took to wake us up from our own spirals into death. He clothed Adam and Eve, He covered Moses with His hand, He sent His son to live, die, and then live again.
I'm not sure the word hate need remain in our vocabularies. I've heard people preach "hate sin." And I understand that. I think it's helpful for some. Except that hate is a powerful thing. It is the opposite of love. Not indifference. Hate is powerful and difficult to oppose.
I can't help but wonder if some people have begun to worship the hatred of sin instead of the One who ended the effects of sin. Avoidance of the imperfect has overpowered the realization that perfection came into the midst of the dirtiness and embraced it.
All this to say that God and this sinner grow ever tighter. Because He doesn't hate me. He never did. I hope and pray that I worship the God who Is, rather than making Him into something that fits what I need right now.
P.S. I welcome all thoughts and perspectives. This was written through an ADHD haze. So I'm sure it doesn't flow logically. I don't care. Have a nice day.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Thoughts born of frustration...kinda.
First of all, if you ever read a personality assessment I've taken, it would tell you that I don't necessarily take criticism well. If you ever talk to certain people who know me well, they could probably tell you that I don't take criticism well, though they may not know that, since I am more likely to receive critiques from those people who do know me well. If you ever asked me how I feel when criticized, constructively or otherwise, my response would be something akin to "Not good."
That is something that has slowly been changing, through prayer and life experience...and divine intervention, I'm sure.
But after a couple of recent frustrations, and after reading through the introduction chapter to Andy Stanley's "7 Practices of Effective Ministry," (Why is there a bold option and an italics option, but no underline. The grammar nazi in me knows that the book title needs to be underlined.), some of my "criticisms" have driven me to this thought:
Have we created selfish Christians with our modern church system? 21st century Pharisees? Stanley's principle that stuck out to me, "Focus on who you're trying to reach, not who you're trying to keep," has started the question within me, did the "Holiness movement" begin a trend of creating legalistic, resort-like churches that first answer the question "What will keep our people happy?" Or maybe not begin, but further the idea.
I wonder if we need to look more closely at the bible for our church systems. I mean, obviously we should base everything we do off of the bible. But, for instance, in the Wesleyan church, the congregation has a whole lot of power. Where, in either NT or OT, do we find an example of "the entire body" having power ending up well?
Anyway, I'm getting off topic.
My main thought is that Stanley has nailed the reason that churches under 100 are dying, I think. Because their pastors are stuck in situations where they feel their only option is to ask the question "What can I do to keep my people happy and in their pews?" Or, in some cases, "How can I keep my job?"
That is something that has slowly been changing, through prayer and life experience...and divine intervention, I'm sure.
But after a couple of recent frustrations, and after reading through the introduction chapter to Andy Stanley's "7 Practices of Effective Ministry," (Why is there a bold option and an italics option, but no underline. The grammar nazi in me knows that the book title needs to be underlined.), some of my "criticisms" have driven me to this thought:
Have we created selfish Christians with our modern church system? 21st century Pharisees? Stanley's principle that stuck out to me, "Focus on who you're trying to reach, not who you're trying to keep," has started the question within me, did the "Holiness movement" begin a trend of creating legalistic, resort-like churches that first answer the question "What will keep our people happy?" Or maybe not begin, but further the idea.
I wonder if we need to look more closely at the bible for our church systems. I mean, obviously we should base everything we do off of the bible. But, for instance, in the Wesleyan church, the congregation has a whole lot of power. Where, in either NT or OT, do we find an example of "the entire body" having power ending up well?
Anyway, I'm getting off topic.
My main thought is that Stanley has nailed the reason that churches under 100 are dying, I think. Because their pastors are stuck in situations where they feel their only option is to ask the question "What can I do to keep my people happy and in their pews?" Or, in some cases, "How can I keep my job?"
Monday, April 5, 2010
Drawn
I can't have melancholy days "on cue." So Good Friday, for me, wasn't as torturous as maybe it's supposed to be. I tried. I really did. Just like when I tried to cry the first time I saw "The Passion." I mean, tears almost made it past my lower eyelid. There was definitely moisture.
And so on Saturday, during a drive to what would be a wonderful day, I flagellated myself a little, inwardly. It's a personal struggle, not to feel things the same way that so many others do. And after sufficient punishment, I turned my music off and forced my heart and thoughts to pass through my vocal chords. (Thanks to hands-free devices and the endless variety of music, people who pray in their cars don't look the slightest bit insane anymore.) Somehow, speaking aloud the words in my confused (relatively) emotions keeps my thoughts flowing in a line that is nearly straight. Just like writing things here, as long as I keep focused on the screen, keeps my brain walking the same thought process.
To remain focused no my original thought, I'll skip details. I'll just say that after a good conversation with God, I felt better about life and myself. Though what I was feeling was right and not unjustified. (I felt unworthy of God...which I am.)
Yesterday, Easter Sunday, I was awakened by my dog barking very early in the morning. Endlessly. For over an hour. I rarely wake up grouchy, but that did it to me. Not wanting to remain a grouch on Easter Sunday, I attempted prayer again. But even on the drive, I couldn't shake it. In fact, as the day went on and the pollen got to me, my overall mood remained down. I wasn't angry or about to attack anyone. But it was an odd thing, being unable to become exultantly happy on the day when I knew some people had recognized their need for Christ and so entered the kingdom of heaven.
Today, I woke up down (for myself) yet again. Very odd. One day is strange for me. Let alone 3 in a row. Eventually, after an hour of sitting on my couch, I decided to shake it off and leave. I went to church, and I did my devotional.
That was what I was being drawn toward. That scripture hit me right between the eyes, probably a year ago or so. I won't detail my own foolish struggles. If you know them, then this means that much more to you. But whenever this passage first impacted me, I was giving those struggles to God, hoping that He would finally erase them from me. And then I realized why He never had.
In more recent years, I've struggled with my own emotions. They don't make sense, relative to many other people. I don't feel certain things that it seems others do. And I get emotional in moments that are less common. I have down days for no apparent reason...though, of course, after sufficient self-examination, I can find the reason(s).
Since the time when the Cor. passage embedded itself within me, I think God has used it to draw me to him in moments besides temptation. i.e. when I am feeling down. Or unworthy. Or anything negative. Or really, anything positive. But just like this passage says, in my weakness, I am strong. Because in those moments, I have realized exactly how broken I am, and I stop fighting to be self-sufficient, and I rely wholly on Christ. And then good things happen.
All that to say: Thank you, God, for pulling me, every day, in myriad ways, inexorably toward You.
And so on Saturday, during a drive to what would be a wonderful day, I flagellated myself a little, inwardly. It's a personal struggle, not to feel things the same way that so many others do. And after sufficient punishment, I turned my music off and forced my heart and thoughts to pass through my vocal chords. (Thanks to hands-free devices and the endless variety of music, people who pray in their cars don't look the slightest bit insane anymore.) Somehow, speaking aloud the words in my confused (relatively) emotions keeps my thoughts flowing in a line that is nearly straight. Just like writing things here, as long as I keep focused on the screen, keeps my brain walking the same thought process.
To remain focused no my original thought, I'll skip details. I'll just say that after a good conversation with God, I felt better about life and myself. Though what I was feeling was right and not unjustified. (I felt unworthy of God...which I am.)
Yesterday, Easter Sunday, I was awakened by my dog barking very early in the morning. Endlessly. For over an hour. I rarely wake up grouchy, but that did it to me. Not wanting to remain a grouch on Easter Sunday, I attempted prayer again. But even on the drive, I couldn't shake it. In fact, as the day went on and the pollen got to me, my overall mood remained down. I wasn't angry or about to attack anyone. But it was an odd thing, being unable to become exultantly happy on the day when I knew some people had recognized their need for Christ and so entered the kingdom of heaven.
Today, I woke up down (for myself) yet again. Very odd. One day is strange for me. Let alone 3 in a row. Eventually, after an hour of sitting on my couch, I decided to shake it off and leave. I went to church, and I did my devotional.
2 Cor. 12:7b-10 "Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
That was what I was being drawn toward. That scripture hit me right between the eyes, probably a year ago or so. I won't detail my own foolish struggles. If you know them, then this means that much more to you. But whenever this passage first impacted me, I was giving those struggles to God, hoping that He would finally erase them from me. And then I realized why He never had.
In more recent years, I've struggled with my own emotions. They don't make sense, relative to many other people. I don't feel certain things that it seems others do. And I get emotional in moments that are less common. I have down days for no apparent reason...though, of course, after sufficient self-examination, I can find the reason(s).
Since the time when the Cor. passage embedded itself within me, I think God has used it to draw me to him in moments besides temptation. i.e. when I am feeling down. Or unworthy. Or anything negative. Or really, anything positive. But just like this passage says, in my weakness, I am strong. Because in those moments, I have realized exactly how broken I am, and I stop fighting to be self-sufficient, and I rely wholly on Christ. And then good things happen.
All that to say: Thank you, God, for pulling me, every day, in myriad ways, inexorably toward You.
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