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!
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
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.
Thursday, May 29, 2014
An Interesting Post on the State of Worship in the church
I read a very interesting article on modern worship in the Church. The article asked the question, "Are We Headed For A Crash? Reflections On The Current State of Evangelical Worship".
There were some very good thoughts in this article. Below are my comments and opinion on what is going on within the church. I believe that it goes beyond the worship stage; that what is going on onstage only REFLECTS the audience:
There is a much bigger issue here as I see it, and one that is, quite frankly, killing the church.
But I have been preaching to brick walls on this for over a decade.
Someone like me will always be a somewhat marginal musician. I can make a "joyful noise", but loathe highly overprocessed performance. I prefer the simplicity of plain worship. I prefer action over fundraising, and a church in motion.
What I have found is "no room at the inn". I've never been welcome on a worship team (although, to be fair, I WAS on a choir once), and my offerings both of praise and of service are turned away at the altar. After years of this, I've grown weary and frustrated and turned away from the organized church. And when I first reached out, somewhat cynically, I found I am not alone.
The "evangelical church" is, in my opinion, an army that is shooting soldiers where they stand. An organization that, instead of developing the talents within, looks outside to "professionals" who may or may not have made sincere professions of faith, both on the worship "stage", and in the back office. It has put the money changers INSIDE of the temple!
If the church needs to know what is wrong with the church in America, in my opinion, she need only look within.
If you care, genuinely CARE about the Bride of Christ, you will stop focusing on divisive political and social issues and fix the church itself. The fancy stage has become nothing more than a bleached sepulchre in many churches, and the stench of spiritual death and decay is ignored for the fancy window dressings. It's past time to change that!
There were some very good thoughts in this article. Below are my comments and opinion on what is going on within the church. I believe that it goes beyond the worship stage; that what is going on onstage only REFLECTS the audience:
There is a much bigger issue here as I see it, and one that is, quite frankly, killing the church.
But I have been preaching to brick walls on this for over a decade.
Someone like me will always be a somewhat marginal musician. I can make a "joyful noise", but loathe highly overprocessed performance. I prefer the simplicity of plain worship. I prefer action over fundraising, and a church in motion.
What I have found is "no room at the inn". I've never been welcome on a worship team (although, to be fair, I WAS on a choir once), and my offerings both of praise and of service are turned away at the altar. After years of this, I've grown weary and frustrated and turned away from the organized church. And when I first reached out, somewhat cynically, I found I am not alone.
The "evangelical church" is, in my opinion, an army that is shooting soldiers where they stand. An organization that, instead of developing the talents within, looks outside to "professionals" who may or may not have made sincere professions of faith, both on the worship "stage", and in the back office. It has put the money changers INSIDE of the temple!
If the church needs to know what is wrong with the church in America, in my opinion, she need only look within.
If you care, genuinely CARE about the Bride of Christ, you will stop focusing on divisive political and social issues and fix the church itself. The fancy stage has become nothing more than a bleached sepulchre in many churches, and the stench of spiritual death and decay is ignored for the fancy window dressings. It's past time to change that!
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Serious Doubts About the Nature of God
This is a hard piece to write. For those who know me, truly KNOW me, you know that I have sought for a long time to better know God. And when I started this blog, one of the things I resolved was to be honest, even when that was brutal, even when that was difficult. I spent a lot of Sundays standing in church, in pain, truly feeling the fault was ME because the pain was never evident in those around me. Until I started blogging honestly and openly and found that a strong number of folks felt the way I did, but thought everyone around THEM was "faking it".
I do not attend charismatic fellowships, because God made it abundantly obvious to me years ago that material "blessings" (as the world sees them) would never be mine. I spent enough years being accused, usually implicitly, but on occasion explicitly, of a "lack of faith" that I decided that a fellowship that insulted me was really not living out Jesus' words. If you knew me at all, you'd know a "lack of faith" has never really been a concern.
But I find myself increasingly trying to fit in in a world where I quite clearly DON'T. The mission field doesn't want me, ministry doesn't wand me, Fortune 500 companies don't want me, and no matter how much I try, I cannot launch my own business successfully. Materially, my life has been one of the most monumental, magnanimous failures of recent years. I simply CANNOT find my niche. And it doesn't work in the 9 to 5 environment, as I increasingly become bitter and dissatisfied to the point where I must change environments, a condition that pretty much everyone in my sphere of influence has been quick to blame on ME.
All of this has led me to seriously doubt the "hands on" God I have so often been led to believe in. I try to serve, but am rejected at every turn, even when my attempts of service are so far removed from leadership that one could not attribute my being outcast to a lack of spiritual development (cleaning the church, putting together bulletins, establishing a church library -- all ministries I have attempted only to be rebuffed at with no explanation). And so I attempt to start a ministry of service outside the church, but again cannot obtain traction. And all of the apologetics in the world, all of the theologians in the world, cannot properly explain why after a quarter century of service, I am no closer to ministry than I was the day I accepted Jesus.
Make no mistake about it: I am certain, with 100% certainty, that God cares enough to ensure that His children will not starve. But beyond that, I am really beginning to question whether God is in it, or WE are in it.
In asking those questions, many Christians doubt my faith, and in an ironic twist, it HINDERS my attempts to serve, my attempts to find some sort of niche in this world. But I've found a lot of fellow Christians asking those questions, and I believe that it is imperative that the church begin answering them.
I no longer claim to know God's future for me; it's becoming abundantly clear that ministry is not it. But I have to wonder, if He saved me, why He would save me without a purpose. And if there IS a purpose, why I would spend most of my life in futility trying to find it.
I was asked by an atheist why I continued to believe in God. Sadly, outside of empirical experience, I had no answer. I am as certain as I have ever been about the existence of God; I am just beginning to seriously question whether a lot of folks are lying to us about the NATURE of God!
I do not attend charismatic fellowships, because God made it abundantly obvious to me years ago that material "blessings" (as the world sees them) would never be mine. I spent enough years being accused, usually implicitly, but on occasion explicitly, of a "lack of faith" that I decided that a fellowship that insulted me was really not living out Jesus' words. If you knew me at all, you'd know a "lack of faith" has never really been a concern.
But I find myself increasingly trying to fit in in a world where I quite clearly DON'T. The mission field doesn't want me, ministry doesn't wand me, Fortune 500 companies don't want me, and no matter how much I try, I cannot launch my own business successfully. Materially, my life has been one of the most monumental, magnanimous failures of recent years. I simply CANNOT find my niche. And it doesn't work in the 9 to 5 environment, as I increasingly become bitter and dissatisfied to the point where I must change environments, a condition that pretty much everyone in my sphere of influence has been quick to blame on ME.
All of this has led me to seriously doubt the "hands on" God I have so often been led to believe in. I try to serve, but am rejected at every turn, even when my attempts of service are so far removed from leadership that one could not attribute my being outcast to a lack of spiritual development (cleaning the church, putting together bulletins, establishing a church library -- all ministries I have attempted only to be rebuffed at with no explanation). And so I attempt to start a ministry of service outside the church, but again cannot obtain traction. And all of the apologetics in the world, all of the theologians in the world, cannot properly explain why after a quarter century of service, I am no closer to ministry than I was the day I accepted Jesus.
Make no mistake about it: I am certain, with 100% certainty, that God cares enough to ensure that His children will not starve. But beyond that, I am really beginning to question whether God is in it, or WE are in it.
In asking those questions, many Christians doubt my faith, and in an ironic twist, it HINDERS my attempts to serve, my attempts to find some sort of niche in this world. But I've found a lot of fellow Christians asking those questions, and I believe that it is imperative that the church begin answering them.
I no longer claim to know God's future for me; it's becoming abundantly clear that ministry is not it. But I have to wonder, if He saved me, why He would save me without a purpose. And if there IS a purpose, why I would spend most of my life in futility trying to find it.
I was asked by an atheist why I continued to believe in God. Sadly, outside of empirical experience, I had no answer. I am as certain as I have ever been about the existence of God; I am just beginning to seriously question whether a lot of folks are lying to us about the NATURE of God!
Monday, May 12, 2014
The Church of Jonah
I am often amazed and astonished by God's perfect timing in the lives of His people. I shouldn't be, because I've seen so much, but every once in awhile, something happens to floor me. This past weekend (see the previous article) was no exception.
As I was doing some personal thinking, I took a walk alongside an arroyo. At one point I found a large rock, and sat there overlooking the arroyo. Sitting there, exposed in the sun made me think of Jonah's response after Nineveh's repentance, and it got me to thinking.
For as long as I've been a Christian, every pretrib fellowship I've been a part of (and most have been pretrib) has focused on the imminent return of Christ. Going back to the seventies, the pattern continues. You can go back further, but you get the point: a large percentage of the church has been preaching that Jesus could return any day, and a massive franchise has built up around it.
Looking at myself, I realized that this has personally made me so world weary that I actually spend time ANTICIPATING the end of the world, almost taking a sick pleasure in the destruction of those who didn't come to repentance. This when my attitude should be the polar opposite, and my actions if I think Jesus is going to return tomorrow should be little different than if He is going to tarry another thousand years: Go and make disciples.
It's hard for me to project my thoughts on others, but I really wonder if this attitude isn't a bit more widespread. Instead of focusing on the Great Commission and the Great Commandment, we're setting up a seat in a high place waiting for the fire and brimstone. Certainly the prevalence of doomsday preppers and militia would bear this out.
I have heard several people speculate we're in a post Christian era. That may be so, but it may be that our focus has been so much on the endgame that we've forgotten where we are. Instead of answering the very real, very tough questions of those who criticize the faith, we're sizing up our passport photos for the great voyage beyond.
Living for today and having no thought for tomorrow is consistent with the words of Christ, and it should be consistent with our lives as well. Instead of dancing on the eve of destruction, perhaps we need to return to being the hands and feet of Christ.
As I was doing some personal thinking, I took a walk alongside an arroyo. At one point I found a large rock, and sat there overlooking the arroyo. Sitting there, exposed in the sun made me think of Jonah's response after Nineveh's repentance, and it got me to thinking.
For as long as I've been a Christian, every pretrib fellowship I've been a part of (and most have been pretrib) has focused on the imminent return of Christ. Going back to the seventies, the pattern continues. You can go back further, but you get the point: a large percentage of the church has been preaching that Jesus could return any day, and a massive franchise has built up around it.
Looking at myself, I realized that this has personally made me so world weary that I actually spend time ANTICIPATING the end of the world, almost taking a sick pleasure in the destruction of those who didn't come to repentance. This when my attitude should be the polar opposite, and my actions if I think Jesus is going to return tomorrow should be little different than if He is going to tarry another thousand years: Go and make disciples.
It's hard for me to project my thoughts on others, but I really wonder if this attitude isn't a bit more widespread. Instead of focusing on the Great Commission and the Great Commandment, we're setting up a seat in a high place waiting for the fire and brimstone. Certainly the prevalence of doomsday preppers and militia would bear this out.
I have heard several people speculate we're in a post Christian era. That may be so, but it may be that our focus has been so much on the endgame that we've forgotten where we are. Instead of answering the very real, very tough questions of those who criticize the faith, we're sizing up our passport photos for the great voyage beyond.
Living for today and having no thought for tomorrow is consistent with the words of Christ, and it should be consistent with our lives as well. Instead of dancing on the eve of destruction, perhaps we need to return to being the hands and feet of Christ.
Accidentally Homeless
This past week was a whirlwind. I had a contract job that required me to run nearly 800 miles, but limited funds with which to undertake it. I left knowing that we had to sell things online, and possibly wait until the Friday of that week to get paid on another contract job.
Murphy followed me much of the trip. I'll skip the sordid details to get where I need to; what happened AFTER the trip. Delays caused me to finish the trip up early Thursday, and I put in at a rest area, hoping to have an epayment come in the following day and roll out. Well, Friday came and no payment. I decided, since selling things online was almost equally dry (although I did get food to eat for the weekend by selling a couple things at a substantial loss), that I was putting up for the weekend, and decided to make the most of it.
A few weeks prior, I had purchased a copy of Dale Carnegie's "How to Win Friends and Influence People" and "How to Stop Worrying and Start Living. Those occupied a corner of my dash, and, thwarted as I was in my hopes to play guitar, I pulled them down and resolved to read them through.
My food stash was limited, as I decided to spend my remaining cash on some healthy options, and because I had eaten relatively little on Thursday, Friday and Saturday, I decided I would spend Sunday fasting. I needed to do so for my health anyway, but the discipline to do so coupled with the work rarely works out. I spent Saturday night camped in a friend's yard.
I am summing all of this up, but as the weekend progressed, I became much more aware of the difficulties of the homeless population. As many know, that's a deep passion of mine. I was uncertain of when exactly I was heading home, I was increasingly exhausted, I was cold (twice the weather dipped below freeing, and I had nothing but the clothes I had packed and two very thin and very small fleeces to keep me warm), and worst of all, I was powerless. Santa Fe has strict rules on busking, so I couldn't afford a busking permit, and I have a hard and fast rule against begging (as Scripture makes it clear that God WILL supply our needs), so that was out....and I really didn't want this trip to include a visit to their lockup facilities.
But before I go further, I have to say, I had options that the homeless population do not have. I had a perpetual lifeline home in my phone. I had my van, and I had a bank account which meant that, once a check came in during business hours, it was a matter of minutes until I was heading home. In short, I knew I was heading home; I just didn't exactly know when.
Monday was a disaster. Unfortunately, my wife's place of employment had computer problems and checks were delayed. This was not good, as I HAD to be home Monday night, and I said so. Being tired, filthy (no truck stops in Santa Fe, so really no place to shower), hungry (My Saturday and Sunday [pre-fast] calorie totals were 2000 and 500, respectively; and both Thursday and Friday were well under 2000 calorie days), and cold. This all equalled out to irritable. As I sat there pondering what on earth God could be teaching me through THAT, I realized that it was simply: my accidental bout with homelessness was far easier than most people have it. I had a lifeline, and knew that even if it meant moving around another day or two, I WOULD eventually head home; and that as I looked at people around me, they had no idea what was going on. Nor did they care. I was convicted by how many times I have personally been inattentive to what was going on around me as well. We definitely could further the Kingdom with greater awareness and empathy.
I'm not referring to this trip to brag; if anything, it showed how soft I've become. I was loathe to leave the few comforts I had brought with, and relied on my ever present Internet lifeline. I am doing this because it opened my eyes to just how urgently we need to rethink our entire approach to discipleship and to those around us.
And I had some surprisingly good pointers from the Carnegie books. I may touch on that in a later article!
Murphy followed me much of the trip. I'll skip the sordid details to get where I need to; what happened AFTER the trip. Delays caused me to finish the trip up early Thursday, and I put in at a rest area, hoping to have an epayment come in the following day and roll out. Well, Friday came and no payment. I decided, since selling things online was almost equally dry (although I did get food to eat for the weekend by selling a couple things at a substantial loss), that I was putting up for the weekend, and decided to make the most of it.
A few weeks prior, I had purchased a copy of Dale Carnegie's "How to Win Friends and Influence People" and "How to Stop Worrying and Start Living. Those occupied a corner of my dash, and, thwarted as I was in my hopes to play guitar, I pulled them down and resolved to read them through.
My food stash was limited, as I decided to spend my remaining cash on some healthy options, and because I had eaten relatively little on Thursday, Friday and Saturday, I decided I would spend Sunday fasting. I needed to do so for my health anyway, but the discipline to do so coupled with the work rarely works out. I spent Saturday night camped in a friend's yard.
I am summing all of this up, but as the weekend progressed, I became much more aware of the difficulties of the homeless population. As many know, that's a deep passion of mine. I was uncertain of when exactly I was heading home, I was increasingly exhausted, I was cold (twice the weather dipped below freeing, and I had nothing but the clothes I had packed and two very thin and very small fleeces to keep me warm), and worst of all, I was powerless. Santa Fe has strict rules on busking, so I couldn't afford a busking permit, and I have a hard and fast rule against begging (as Scripture makes it clear that God WILL supply our needs), so that was out....and I really didn't want this trip to include a visit to their lockup facilities.
But before I go further, I have to say, I had options that the homeless population do not have. I had a perpetual lifeline home in my phone. I had my van, and I had a bank account which meant that, once a check came in during business hours, it was a matter of minutes until I was heading home. In short, I knew I was heading home; I just didn't exactly know when.
Monday was a disaster. Unfortunately, my wife's place of employment had computer problems and checks were delayed. This was not good, as I HAD to be home Monday night, and I said so. Being tired, filthy (no truck stops in Santa Fe, so really no place to shower), hungry (My Saturday and Sunday [pre-fast] calorie totals were 2000 and 500, respectively; and both Thursday and Friday were well under 2000 calorie days), and cold. This all equalled out to irritable. As I sat there pondering what on earth God could be teaching me through THAT, I realized that it was simply: my accidental bout with homelessness was far easier than most people have it. I had a lifeline, and knew that even if it meant moving around another day or two, I WOULD eventually head home; and that as I looked at people around me, they had no idea what was going on. Nor did they care. I was convicted by how many times I have personally been inattentive to what was going on around me as well. We definitely could further the Kingdom with greater awareness and empathy.
I'm not referring to this trip to brag; if anything, it showed how soft I've become. I was loathe to leave the few comforts I had brought with, and relied on my ever present Internet lifeline. I am doing this because it opened my eyes to just how urgently we need to rethink our entire approach to discipleship and to those around us.
And I had some surprisingly good pointers from the Carnegie books. I may touch on that in a later article!
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