Disclaimer: these are personal thoughts and opinions, and while I invite commentary, this is not an open forum for debate on the finer points of theology. Please respect this, as I know you will.
...if only...
I had in my head the outlines of a wonderful article on why it's important to stick to the roadmap in life, and it was good. But my peace was quickly and utterly shattered and the point driven home in a far more emphatic way than I ever could.
I had a phone conversation with a friend and inquired about another friend. He replied "he doesn't have a phone right now". Later in the conversation, when I asked if he could get ahold of him, the story came out.
This friend had dealt with addiction in the past. He went back to the bottle, unfortunately, and his wife left him. In an all too familiar story, he went to the home where she was staying, and killed the man she was with (not sure of their relationship; it's immaterial at this point), and seriously injured her.
But this wasn't some gothic tale of woe. This was a friend who I had had many meals with. I knew both him and his wife fairly well, and had several very good discussions with them.
It is an unfortunate reality that none of our discussions centered seriously around the person and work of Jesus Christ.
...if only...
In the wake of this news (which is a few months old, but first I heard of it), so little else matters. My problems are now trivial, and two people I truly loved will have to live with the physical and emotional scars of what happened. And a victim's family will forever have to live with the actions.
The media, the press, and the prosecutor will call him a monster, but I call him my friend. A friendship that will not end at the jailhouse door, and that cannot be quenched by his actions, no matter how detestable. And in all of this, I wonder.
I wonder if things might have been different had I "stuck to the path". Maybe if our discussions had centered around the reality and the love of Christ rather than politics and other things that now seem to matter in the big picture, something could have reached him, could have changed him and given him a hope that turned him somewhere other than the bottle.
I cannot possibly accept the guilt for what my friend did. It is his cross to bear and his alone, but I cannot help but wonder if, through my words and actions, I might have been able to make things different for three people whose paths were irreversibly altered on that night.
This will be hard, as there is much to deal with for him and his ex wife. And I don't know what the future holds for any of them, but I do know this: that his only hope and future now rests in the hands of a just and merciful God, and not in the hands of the state of Texas, which is notably short of compassion for such crimes. And I do know what the task ahead for me is.
...if only...
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Casualties of Church
In the years I've been out and about, I have found myself more often around the people society tends to reject, the "dregs" of society, as we see them. And I've noticed a lot of common denominators.
Yes, there does tend to be a subset of that group that won't be happy no matter what you put in front of them. What I am trying to convey here is not addressing that subset; they will only be changed by a true transformation of the Holy Spirit. But the rules of love and compassion still apply to them, as it is only with genuine love and compassion that you will meet those urgent needs.
The majority of people I have found who have turned their backs on the church, though, are people with very real grievances and gripes, who refuse to be heard. They've been hurt, sometimes very badly, by the church. Children taken, marriages broken, teenagers exploited, bullied, and even sexually assaulted by persons in a position of trust. And often, church leaders who turn a blind eye to very serious spiritual conditions within the church while politicking for material concerns, or legislation to regulate the activity of those who do not profess a Christian faith. This is wrong.
In my personal experience (this may not be true of the larger Christian landscape, but it is of my experience), these "casualties of church" often outnumber the Christians IN church. You often find them as church hoppers, non church attendees who may or may not hold services in their home, or just people who appear outwardly apathetic towards issues of faith.
Now, before I go further, let me make it very clear what I am NOT saying: I am NOT saying this all falls on the pastor. The pastor does need to recognize their role in leadership, and I've noticed many pastors have a difficult time delegating, not so much because they are unable, but because of genuinely guarding against putting someone in a position of influence that doesn't have a sincere faith. In that sense, they are entirely well intentioned, and while I am certain they would recognize need for improvement, the problem can't be solved by laying the blame on their shoulders.
I have noticed in the years I've spent in a rather loosely structured, renegade "ministry" that the common desire of people of all walks of life is to feel they are being heard. A lot of anger, frustration, and pain arises when they try to express their concerns because they are dismissed as being "complainers", or because other issues take precedence over the genuine pleas of the people who come to their doorstep.
As a father of seven, I understand this. Some years ago, my daughter broke her arm. We took her to the ER, had it treated, and two weeks later were heading out the door and loading up our children to take her to a followup visit. At that time we heard a bloodcurdling scream from the back of the house. My then 5 year old son had pinched his finger in the door, effectively severing the tip of it.
If one of our other children had tried to shove a permission slip in the way for us to sign, or ask about a sleepover, they would have gotten an unnecessarily severe response. With one medical followup and another medical emergency on the shelf, we barely had time to address the issues we NEEDED to address, let alone other, less vital issues.
For a pastor with 100 followers, it's just as easy to get caught up in multiple simultaneous emergencies, and fail to listen, not because you didn't want to, but because you sincerely didn't have the time. The problem is, very often when that person comes to you, they're only going to come to you once.
Of course, in suggesting a problem, I would probably be remiss in not suggesting a solution. We need to rethink the idea of community, entirely. One problem is the church body's EXPECTATION that the pastor meet every need. I have seen firsthand where people were genuinely hurt because of a family need, and the fact that the pastor didn't show up (which is usually seen as "couldn't be bothered", a charge I admit is unfair, as I have never met a pastor who wouldn't WANT to address the concerns; more than likely they didn't have the time). Maybe in the same way as we organize prayer chains, we should organize compassion chains, and help the congregation to understand that, although the pastor cannot attend to every need, they will diligently work to ensure that someone from the church can.
At any rate, I do feel church leaders should stop dismissing people as "church hoppers", and realize that when someone attends church faithfully for a period of time and leaves, they do so for a reason.
My beliefs on the way the church should function are not widely accepted, but I do believe someone seriously wanting to address the dysfunction of the present day church would be well to listen to them. I have never left a church for no reason, and I've never left without trying to express my feelings to someone of influence within the church. I can't say the same for others, but I can for me.
Yes, there does tend to be a subset of that group that won't be happy no matter what you put in front of them. What I am trying to convey here is not addressing that subset; they will only be changed by a true transformation of the Holy Spirit. But the rules of love and compassion still apply to them, as it is only with genuine love and compassion that you will meet those urgent needs.
The majority of people I have found who have turned their backs on the church, though, are people with very real grievances and gripes, who refuse to be heard. They've been hurt, sometimes very badly, by the church. Children taken, marriages broken, teenagers exploited, bullied, and even sexually assaulted by persons in a position of trust. And often, church leaders who turn a blind eye to very serious spiritual conditions within the church while politicking for material concerns, or legislation to regulate the activity of those who do not profess a Christian faith. This is wrong.
In my personal experience (this may not be true of the larger Christian landscape, but it is of my experience), these "casualties of church" often outnumber the Christians IN church. You often find them as church hoppers, non church attendees who may or may not hold services in their home, or just people who appear outwardly apathetic towards issues of faith.
Now, before I go further, let me make it very clear what I am NOT saying: I am NOT saying this all falls on the pastor. The pastor does need to recognize their role in leadership, and I've noticed many pastors have a difficult time delegating, not so much because they are unable, but because of genuinely guarding against putting someone in a position of influence that doesn't have a sincere faith. In that sense, they are entirely well intentioned, and while I am certain they would recognize need for improvement, the problem can't be solved by laying the blame on their shoulders.
I have noticed in the years I've spent in a rather loosely structured, renegade "ministry" that the common desire of people of all walks of life is to feel they are being heard. A lot of anger, frustration, and pain arises when they try to express their concerns because they are dismissed as being "complainers", or because other issues take precedence over the genuine pleas of the people who come to their doorstep.
As a father of seven, I understand this. Some years ago, my daughter broke her arm. We took her to the ER, had it treated, and two weeks later were heading out the door and loading up our children to take her to a followup visit. At that time we heard a bloodcurdling scream from the back of the house. My then 5 year old son had pinched his finger in the door, effectively severing the tip of it.
If one of our other children had tried to shove a permission slip in the way for us to sign, or ask about a sleepover, they would have gotten an unnecessarily severe response. With one medical followup and another medical emergency on the shelf, we barely had time to address the issues we NEEDED to address, let alone other, less vital issues.
For a pastor with 100 followers, it's just as easy to get caught up in multiple simultaneous emergencies, and fail to listen, not because you didn't want to, but because you sincerely didn't have the time. The problem is, very often when that person comes to you, they're only going to come to you once.
Of course, in suggesting a problem, I would probably be remiss in not suggesting a solution. We need to rethink the idea of community, entirely. One problem is the church body's EXPECTATION that the pastor meet every need. I have seen firsthand where people were genuinely hurt because of a family need, and the fact that the pastor didn't show up (which is usually seen as "couldn't be bothered", a charge I admit is unfair, as I have never met a pastor who wouldn't WANT to address the concerns; more than likely they didn't have the time). Maybe in the same way as we organize prayer chains, we should organize compassion chains, and help the congregation to understand that, although the pastor cannot attend to every need, they will diligently work to ensure that someone from the church can.
At any rate, I do feel church leaders should stop dismissing people as "church hoppers", and realize that when someone attends church faithfully for a period of time and leaves, they do so for a reason.
My beliefs on the way the church should function are not widely accepted, but I do believe someone seriously wanting to address the dysfunction of the present day church would be well to listen to them. I have never left a church for no reason, and I've never left without trying to express my feelings to someone of influence within the church. I can't say the same for others, but I can for me.
Friday, June 13, 2014
Judge Not.
I know we all like to believe we are compassionate. But I also believe we conveniently redefine "compassion" so that we aren't indicted by our own words. And I think we're treading in very dangerous waters when we do so.
Most Christians are amazingly, even overwhelmingly, compassionate, when it involves people they know, or even within their community. I have seen this firsthand, and will defend that statement to my death. But something happens when its somewhat outside of their comfort zone.
I am discovering this firsthand. Economic necessity has forced me to either abandon my career field (IT) entirely, or "take the show on the road", as it were. I have found the most efficient way to do this is to book a job several hours out, drive in to the area, stay there 3-5 days and solicit other work, and return home at week's end. I can't afford a hotel, so our trusty van is my home during these sojourns.
Constant exposure to the elements leaves me a little ragged by the end of the trip; limited hygiene options and poor quality sleep only enhance the experience. Truthfully, there is nothing more comfortable than my own bed at the end of the trip, and I have emerged from the trips physically and mentally exhausted.
But it has been a good experience; not only does it familiarize me with the struggles of the homeless that many take for granted, it helps me to hold a lens to how our society as a whole operates. How, in a region of the nation where the vast majority self identify as Christian, I can walk miles along a busy highway and have noone turn a second glance. How people will avoid me in public places, and how the general charm of the citizens of the area disappears in my presence.
Sure, they are likely too busy with other things. But truthfully, so were the priest and the Levite in the parable of the Good Smaritan. The implication Jesus makes in this parable is that their busy-ness is not an excuse for inaction.
I stated recently that when Hebrews 13:2 states that by entertaining strangers, we are often entertaining angels unaware, we need to keep in mind that the "angel unaware" is more likely to be someone that repulses us than it is someone that attracts us. And that we need to step outside of our comfort zone in service.
I often get a bad rap by folks who think I am hypercritical. But I want you to understand: I am saying these things out of love. You won't hear this from all but a select few pastors, and most people in church drop their money in the plate, and when they encounter the realities of homelessness and poverty, they mistakenly believe they've done enough. But Jesus did not command us to "go and give"; he commanded us to "go and DO".
I understand the busy-ness, believe me. But as believers, we should stop using the busy-ness of this world as an excuse to not attend to the business of the kingdom.
Most Christians are amazingly, even overwhelmingly, compassionate, when it involves people they know, or even within their community. I have seen this firsthand, and will defend that statement to my death. But something happens when its somewhat outside of their comfort zone.
I am discovering this firsthand. Economic necessity has forced me to either abandon my career field (IT) entirely, or "take the show on the road", as it were. I have found the most efficient way to do this is to book a job several hours out, drive in to the area, stay there 3-5 days and solicit other work, and return home at week's end. I can't afford a hotel, so our trusty van is my home during these sojourns.
Constant exposure to the elements leaves me a little ragged by the end of the trip; limited hygiene options and poor quality sleep only enhance the experience. Truthfully, there is nothing more comfortable than my own bed at the end of the trip, and I have emerged from the trips physically and mentally exhausted.
But it has been a good experience; not only does it familiarize me with the struggles of the homeless that many take for granted, it helps me to hold a lens to how our society as a whole operates. How, in a region of the nation where the vast majority self identify as Christian, I can walk miles along a busy highway and have noone turn a second glance. How people will avoid me in public places, and how the general charm of the citizens of the area disappears in my presence.
Sure, they are likely too busy with other things. But truthfully, so were the priest and the Levite in the parable of the Good Smaritan. The implication Jesus makes in this parable is that their busy-ness is not an excuse for inaction.
I stated recently that when Hebrews 13:2 states that by entertaining strangers, we are often entertaining angels unaware, we need to keep in mind that the "angel unaware" is more likely to be someone that repulses us than it is someone that attracts us. And that we need to step outside of our comfort zone in service.
I often get a bad rap by folks who think I am hypercritical. But I want you to understand: I am saying these things out of love. You won't hear this from all but a select few pastors, and most people in church drop their money in the plate, and when they encounter the realities of homelessness and poverty, they mistakenly believe they've done enough. But Jesus did not command us to "go and give"; he commanded us to "go and DO".
I understand the busy-ness, believe me. But as believers, we should stop using the busy-ness of this world as an excuse to not attend to the business of the kingdom.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
On the Road
I have to vent a little at the beginning of this. Oh, I know folks figure I already vent, but they have no idea how much I hold in.
One of the things that frustrates me more than anything in the church is the lack of fellowship. I once had it; I've given up hope of every truly having it again. In part because every word I say is scrutinized, criticized, and overinterpreted. If you're judging every word coming out of my mouth, I have to wonder how you can say you aren't judging me. I don't see how you can separate the two.
A hint on the above statement: if you think it's about you, message me. I'd be glad to discuss it. But for the love of Pete, DON'T gossip about what it "might" mean.
At any rate, I guess it's only fair to clarify my position on church compassion. The truth is, the church is amazingly, abundantly compassionate...to the parts of the community with which they are comfortable. They don't function well outside of their comfort zone.
I should amend that to say WE don't function well outside of our comfort zone, as I'm not so hot at it myself. But I'd like to try.
Let's face it, if God sends an "angel unaware" to us as a stranger, a sojourner, it's not likely to be soeone with whom we are comfortable. Most likely the opposite.
I had an encounter not long ago that gives a good idea what I am saying. A couple was hitching to Dalhart. As I got their story, they had stopped by the Chamber and asked for help; the Chamber sent them down the road, as Dalhart's ministerial alliance was better equipped to assist them.
Now first let me say, the Chamber was not in the wrong. Our ministerial alliance is stretched nearly to our limit due to our position on a major highway. But I can't help but wonder somehow if we couldn't do more. For my part, I gave them a ride to Dalhart and meal money, but I do wonder if there wasn't something more we could do.
Maybe that should be a challenge: go out this week and help someone you really don't want to help. See what happens!
One of the things that frustrates me more than anything in the church is the lack of fellowship. I once had it; I've given up hope of every truly having it again. In part because every word I say is scrutinized, criticized, and overinterpreted. If you're judging every word coming out of my mouth, I have to wonder how you can say you aren't judging me. I don't see how you can separate the two.
A hint on the above statement: if you think it's about you, message me. I'd be glad to discuss it. But for the love of Pete, DON'T gossip about what it "might" mean.
At any rate, I guess it's only fair to clarify my position on church compassion. The truth is, the church is amazingly, abundantly compassionate...to the parts of the community with which they are comfortable. They don't function well outside of their comfort zone.
I should amend that to say WE don't function well outside of our comfort zone, as I'm not so hot at it myself. But I'd like to try.
Let's face it, if God sends an "angel unaware" to us as a stranger, a sojourner, it's not likely to be soeone with whom we are comfortable. Most likely the opposite.
I had an encounter not long ago that gives a good idea what I am saying. A couple was hitching to Dalhart. As I got their story, they had stopped by the Chamber and asked for help; the Chamber sent them down the road, as Dalhart's ministerial alliance was better equipped to assist them.
Now first let me say, the Chamber was not in the wrong. Our ministerial alliance is stretched nearly to our limit due to our position on a major highway. But I can't help but wonder somehow if we couldn't do more. For my part, I gave them a ride to Dalhart and meal money, but I do wonder if there wasn't something more we could do.
Maybe that should be a challenge: go out this week and help someone you really don't want to help. See what happens!
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Why I Stopped Going to Your Church
I sat in the church pew for well over a year. About a year and a half.
Every service began with a meet and greet. A handshake, and a how do you do. And for a moment, you felt like you were someone.
We sat in the same place, always behind the same family. In over a year, we'd never been invited to another church member's house, never been asked to join them in social settings. Birthdays and celebrations went on, and we were always the third wheel, which wouldn't matter much except in a close, small town.
I had asked about the possibility of learning worship songs, asked about sitting in on practice here and there, of possibly becoming part of it. Was told "don't call us, we'll call you".
I had asked about putting my professional talents to work for the church. Again, don't call us, we'll call you. In fact, in the year and a half we attended, the only thing I was asked to be a part of was running meat to the kitchen at a barbequeue. I didn't mind it; did it happily.
Then the last straw. An accidental peek at the family in front of us, an upstanding family, leaders and pillars of the church and community. Vile, pretty rotten things were being written about us, and I had to look around and wonder: with their false smiles, but simply pretending, how many other people who acted THE SAME WAY towards us, felt the same way? They certainly never invited us to be part of their lives. We were never welcome.
And so I left. I never said a word because, frankly, it all seemed petty. To your credit, you tried, you DID ask...and I will certainly always give you credit for that. But how do you express a hurt from someone you had tried to draw close to, someone who was part of your church "family"? And so I didn't. I walked.
It may not have been right, but it was better than gossip. I've come to terms with not being liked, although I find it disappointing from a church that preaches "salvation".
I pray that you treat the next sojourner that comes to your door a little better. God bless!
Every service began with a meet and greet. A handshake, and a how do you do. And for a moment, you felt like you were someone.
We sat in the same place, always behind the same family. In over a year, we'd never been invited to another church member's house, never been asked to join them in social settings. Birthdays and celebrations went on, and we were always the third wheel, which wouldn't matter much except in a close, small town.
I had asked about the possibility of learning worship songs, asked about sitting in on practice here and there, of possibly becoming part of it. Was told "don't call us, we'll call you".
I had asked about putting my professional talents to work for the church. Again, don't call us, we'll call you. In fact, in the year and a half we attended, the only thing I was asked to be a part of was running meat to the kitchen at a barbequeue. I didn't mind it; did it happily.
Then the last straw. An accidental peek at the family in front of us, an upstanding family, leaders and pillars of the church and community. Vile, pretty rotten things were being written about us, and I had to look around and wonder: with their false smiles, but simply pretending, how many other people who acted THE SAME WAY towards us, felt the same way? They certainly never invited us to be part of their lives. We were never welcome.
And so I left. I never said a word because, frankly, it all seemed petty. To your credit, you tried, you DID ask...and I will certainly always give you credit for that. But how do you express a hurt from someone you had tried to draw close to, someone who was part of your church "family"? And so I didn't. I walked.
It may not have been right, but it was better than gossip. I've come to terms with not being liked, although I find it disappointing from a church that preaches "salvation".
I pray that you treat the next sojourner that comes to your door a little better. God bless!
The Day I Stopped Considering Myself a Fundamentalist.
I remember the day I stopped considering myself a fundamentalist. I had been a Christian for about 15 years. I had tithed regularly, I showed up every time the doors were open, I set up for and cleaned up after potlucks; every time a volunteer was asked for, my hand went up in the air.
But I began to notice something, and it all came to a head. See, when I came to Christ, a lot was made about the sin nature, and about the need to ask forgiveness from people we had offended. And ask forgiveness I did. For fifteen years, I neatly genuflected before everyone I had offended, I begged their forgiveness, I did everything I could to make it right.
And I noticed something: I was the only one doing it. In now 25 years since coming to Christ, I can honestly, truthfully say this: I have never ONCE had a fellow Christian stand in front of me and truly ask my forgiveness for a wrong they've committed. And, while I've certainly committed my share, the implication of the response is that they consider themselves above reproach and me beneath contempt.
When I speak out, they complain that I offended them, and I'm back to apologizing. Somehow, it always gets spun back to me. And somehow, I always take it.
I'm not saying I don't have responsibility for my actions; I certainly do. All I am saying is that when fellowship is breached, it's usually on the part of two or more parties. Oddly, the same fundamentalists that claim a sin nature seem unwilling to cop to individual sins.
I love the church, and I love Christ. But I'm tired of being the whipping boy. Somehow, I don't think there is a sound spiritual basis for that.
But I began to notice something, and it all came to a head. See, when I came to Christ, a lot was made about the sin nature, and about the need to ask forgiveness from people we had offended. And ask forgiveness I did. For fifteen years, I neatly genuflected before everyone I had offended, I begged their forgiveness, I did everything I could to make it right.
And I noticed something: I was the only one doing it. In now 25 years since coming to Christ, I can honestly, truthfully say this: I have never ONCE had a fellow Christian stand in front of me and truly ask my forgiveness for a wrong they've committed. And, while I've certainly committed my share, the implication of the response is that they consider themselves above reproach and me beneath contempt.
When I speak out, they complain that I offended them, and I'm back to apologizing. Somehow, it always gets spun back to me. And somehow, I always take it.
I'm not saying I don't have responsibility for my actions; I certainly do. All I am saying is that when fellowship is breached, it's usually on the part of two or more parties. Oddly, the same fundamentalists that claim a sin nature seem unwilling to cop to individual sins.
I love the church, and I love Christ. But I'm tired of being the whipping boy. Somehow, I don't think there is a sound spiritual basis for that.
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