So, basically, until/unless I find a church that I can honestly, truthfully call a church home, I am done with church attendance. I have thought about this long and hard, and don't like the idea of not fellowshipping with other believers, but I frankly see no other choice.
As I type this, Congress is mulling a bill that would cut food stamps for working families. For the 42nd time, they are desperately trying to defund the ACA, because they do not feel they should have to support it. An instead of denouncing these thugs, the church is CHEERING THEM ON!
I am done. I am through. This is not the Christ I serve, and I will not wear the banner of any church that believes it is acceptable to refuse to care for the poor, especially while we continue to fund large corporations, and war. I realize this puts me at odds with a lot of people, but that's a cross I am not only willing to bear, but have decided I must.
The evangelical church has taken the position that the church, not the government, should be responsible for caring for the poor. And they have done so not only without Scriptural support, but actually in defiance of it (Ezekial 16:49 mentions that the sin of Sodom was "pride and excess of food, while the poor and needy suffered outside her door. It mentions nothing about the responsibility of the Jewish people to do this, but rather of the responsibility og the government. Both Jonah and Nahum reference the lack of compassion of the people of Nineveh, and how it almost led to its destruction in the former book, and ultimately led to its destruction in the latter).
I have, for my part, remained silent on these matters because I have wrongly followed the advice of the leaders. It was advice I knew to be wrong, and advice I followed because I felt it necessary to fit in. In this blog I am publicly repenting my years of service to Mammon and to a church which has no desire to follow the living God. I realize that while I need money to survive, I must no longer serve money.
If you're willing to join with me in this cause, I welcome you and will fellowship with you. If you are not, I bless you and wish you a long and prosperous life. But as for me and my house...well, it's time for that to be more than just a cheesy cliche!
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
If You Can't Love ME, You'll Have a Hard Time Loving Others
It's been implied by people who genuinely care about me that I'm caustic. And it's not entirely an untrue charge. After twenty five years of rejection by my fellow Christians, I think that some level of irritation is probably pretty much in line.
My latest, and very likely last, attempt to "fit in" with a congregation put the icing on the cake. In 15 months with the church, we received exactly one invitation to fellowship with another group out of church, and that group is long gone. Not one of the "inner circle" so much as invited us over for a barbeque (with the exception of a birthday party for our six year old, but that's not really a family invitation).
And, more recently, I made a cold call to on of the prominent members of the church who used to be very warm to me (and had even suggested he had some IT work available). It seemed natural, now that I am freelancing, to follow up. He not only didn't return my calls, but called in another tech to bid on a very substantial job. I would have chalked it up to a message not passed on, only he admitted to the other tech that he knew I was working for myself and refused to work with me. That's the old Christian love coming out, I guess.
The truth is, if you can't love me, you'll have a hard time loving others. And I'm not saying this as a simple matter of judging others; I actually struggle intensely with this myself. I have had people approach me that I had a hard time accepting, and I admit, it's not easy.
But it IS possible. And not only possible, but commanded.
The truth is, if every person walking into a Christian church was treated with warmth and acceptance, there would't be such negativity. It has been said that Christianity is the only army that shoots its own wounded.
The "mainstream" church has basically written me off as a heretic. I'm OK with that; I know where I stand and really don't care what others think anymore. But I DO care about the image that those who claim to be standard bearers for the church are projecting on people who need the Gospel.
My latest, and very likely last, attempt to "fit in" with a congregation put the icing on the cake. In 15 months with the church, we received exactly one invitation to fellowship with another group out of church, and that group is long gone. Not one of the "inner circle" so much as invited us over for a barbeque (with the exception of a birthday party for our six year old, but that's not really a family invitation).
And, more recently, I made a cold call to on of the prominent members of the church who used to be very warm to me (and had even suggested he had some IT work available). It seemed natural, now that I am freelancing, to follow up. He not only didn't return my calls, but called in another tech to bid on a very substantial job. I would have chalked it up to a message not passed on, only he admitted to the other tech that he knew I was working for myself and refused to work with me. That's the old Christian love coming out, I guess.
The truth is, if you can't love me, you'll have a hard time loving others. And I'm not saying this as a simple matter of judging others; I actually struggle intensely with this myself. I have had people approach me that I had a hard time accepting, and I admit, it's not easy.
But it IS possible. And not only possible, but commanded.
The truth is, if every person walking into a Christian church was treated with warmth and acceptance, there would't be such negativity. It has been said that Christianity is the only army that shoots its own wounded.
The "mainstream" church has basically written me off as a heretic. I'm OK with that; I know where I stand and really don't care what others think anymore. But I DO care about the image that those who claim to be standard bearers for the church are projecting on people who need the Gospel.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Resignation
In the past few months, I've had people approach me with questions about where I'm headed spiritually. These are people I love and respect, but, really, how do you answer someone when you don't have words to express the feelings inside of you? I think I'm at a point, though, where I can say something.
I've spent ten years in this area. Ten long, ten sometimes wonderful, sometimes painful years. And I've visited a LOT of churches. And I've seen enough to say that what I've seen qualifies as typical of the area.
I'm tired of being in places where I don't belong. Tired of multimedia presentations, tired of laboring for elaborate worship, for the constant search for the bigger, the fancier, in order to woo congregants. I love technology, and see its usefulness, but when you put it ahead of ministry, you're kind of missing the point in the first place.
I'm tired of fellow church members accepting that our kids must drink and do drugs every weekend and giving up on pushing them to be better. Tired of them ignoring the issues such as teen pregnancy and tired of the lack of mentoring and discipleship set forth by Jesus at every level. Tired of telling our kids to aim for mediocrity rather than excellence, and tired of seeing the church give in to the popular culture.
The fact that I have been pretty soundly criticized for pointing this out in the past makes it painfully clear that the majority in the church, in this area, at least, WANT this. They are comfortable with it. They've become accepting of compromise as the only way, and they've forgotten their duty to their fellow sojourners and to the community.
We're called to be salt and light, yet I see no salt. I see no light. I see NO DISTINCTION between 95% of the church members I know and the rest of the world (to the 5% that are an exception, I thank you; unfortunately, I hear some of the frustration in your voices as well).
Church is not about numbers. It's not about the dollars in the offering plate. It's about an expressive faith in God lived out in action. The church in this region, by and large, has little interest in feeding the poor. As a matter of fact, many have openly expressed their belief that we treat the poor TOO well. They claim to be pro life, yet they have no problem with children who live in poverty being denied health care and food because of that poverty. This is not only wrong, it's the gravest of sins (see Ezekial 16:49).
I realize my words will not be accepted by many who read this. I realize that they will feel I'm being judgmental, being harsh, and being confrontational. And that, in a nutshell, is why I'm stepping away. Because I'm willing to accept that maybe the problem is me. And I'm equally willing to accept that because this is so in line with my core beliefs, it's not going to change. And that in the church, as expressed in the area where I live, there is no room for me.
I've spent ten years in this area. Ten long, ten sometimes wonderful, sometimes painful years. And I've visited a LOT of churches. And I've seen enough to say that what I've seen qualifies as typical of the area.
I'm tired of being in places where I don't belong. Tired of multimedia presentations, tired of laboring for elaborate worship, for the constant search for the bigger, the fancier, in order to woo congregants. I love technology, and see its usefulness, but when you put it ahead of ministry, you're kind of missing the point in the first place.
I'm tired of fellow church members accepting that our kids must drink and do drugs every weekend and giving up on pushing them to be better. Tired of them ignoring the issues such as teen pregnancy and tired of the lack of mentoring and discipleship set forth by Jesus at every level. Tired of telling our kids to aim for mediocrity rather than excellence, and tired of seeing the church give in to the popular culture.
The fact that I have been pretty soundly criticized for pointing this out in the past makes it painfully clear that the majority in the church, in this area, at least, WANT this. They are comfortable with it. They've become accepting of compromise as the only way, and they've forgotten their duty to their fellow sojourners and to the community.
We're called to be salt and light, yet I see no salt. I see no light. I see NO DISTINCTION between 95% of the church members I know and the rest of the world (to the 5% that are an exception, I thank you; unfortunately, I hear some of the frustration in your voices as well).
Church is not about numbers. It's not about the dollars in the offering plate. It's about an expressive faith in God lived out in action. The church in this region, by and large, has little interest in feeding the poor. As a matter of fact, many have openly expressed their belief that we treat the poor TOO well. They claim to be pro life, yet they have no problem with children who live in poverty being denied health care and food because of that poverty. This is not only wrong, it's the gravest of sins (see Ezekial 16:49).
I realize my words will not be accepted by many who read this. I realize that they will feel I'm being judgmental, being harsh, and being confrontational. And that, in a nutshell, is why I'm stepping away. Because I'm willing to accept that maybe the problem is me. And I'm equally willing to accept that because this is so in line with my core beliefs, it's not going to change. And that in the church, as expressed in the area where I live, there is no room for me.
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