Sunday IV

This is a departure from my recent posts on church going.

A very recent experience has left me troubled in my mind, in my heart and in my spirit. My mind holds on to the thing that was done to me, the memory of it. I'm certain the enemy seeks to stir that as often as possible, to keep me stewing in it. My heart bears the hurt, like a fresh wound, painful, sore to the touch. In typical human nature, I don't leave alone to heal, but pick and pull at the scab, inspecting it deeply. It can do nothing less than leave a huge scar.

It is the residual effects in my spirit that I wrestle with the most. This whole situation has called upon me to measure my Christianity. Many of the standards I hold up are false measures. They are traditions, long-held beliefs and religious pillars in my life. Much like testing the earthquake-readiness of a building, my foundations have taken some shaking. Cracks have been opened, weaknesses revealed.

Here's the thing: people will hurt you. I've known this much of my life. It rarely affected me like it has in this situation, but I can look back and see a few times when God has shaken my foundations to test me. You should know something about me - I am the eternal optimist.

My mother told me this story when I was growing up, about two little girls. One was a pessimist, the other an incurable optimist. The parents wanted to help the girls see things with more balance. So they showered the pessimist with grand gifts, hoping to improve her outlook on life. Of the new bike, she proclaimed it would only make her fall down and scrape herself. Of the grand new dolly, she said it would be broken and dirty with use. Nothing they gave her ever met with her approval. The other girl could find no wrong in any gift. So, they gave her a sack full of horse manure. She squealed with joy and ran through the house, laughing all the while. She opened closet doors, peeked under all the beds, become more and more excited. Finally, her parents stopped her to ask, "what are you so excited about, child?" She replied, "With all this manure, there must be a pony around here somewhere!"

That was me. I saw only the good in any situation. This is not a bad trait to have. I have certainly given grace where others might not have. In this case, though, I feel I might have had blinders over my rose-colored glasses. I opened my home to a family in need. That is what I saw - actually, I didn't even see that until they arrived. I truly opened my heart to them because I saw an opportunity to heal relationships. Perhaps I was even guilty of meddling.

Now, As I look back on the whole experience, I still struggle to see all of the pieces of God's plan through the haze of pain and disillusionment. These people took advantage of me. They lied to me, and then they stole from me. I responded in anger, but I also followed my husband's lead, as we sternly invited these offenders to leave our home and not return.

Now I have to return to the wound, examine it and find it's root cause, and discover if it will heal as it should, or if perhaps there is something festering deep down that must be rooted out. What I fear is a residual pain that will hold me back from helping the next person in need. It is in my nature to trust, and to give. That leaves me wide open to being taken advantage of. This is most certainly a large part of why I am with the husband I have. He, being the polar opposite of me, wields far more wisdom and caution than I.

I will have to continue this post in a day or so, as I ferret out all the causes and effects this situation has put upon me as a Christian. I saw this as an opportunity to be Jesus to someone who hadn't known Him. Did I fail? Did I plant a seed? I may never know. And I am left examining broken pieces of my heart, asking God why it had to happen. When, or if, I discover more answers, I want to share them with you. Because deep down, I know that I am not alone in this.

Until next time, may God richly bless you in all of His wisdom and love.

Sunday III

A Sunday Religion

My mother wears a T-shirt that says “Religion is hanging around the cross, Christianity is getting on it.” For those of us caught in the trap of the Church as a social club, this should be a wake up call. It’s not wrong that we socialize, or even that we go to church on Sunday for that reason. What’s wrong is that we think church on Sunday IS our Christianity.

As a culture, for as far back as our earliest American roots, we’ve looked to the church for moral guidance, for scriptural instruction and for inspiration. We’ve failed to recognize this simple truth. We are the church. We don’t exist just on Sunday, and neither should our faith.

I have no doubt that we would suffer so much less disenchantment with our church if we embraced this thought. I am the church, every day.  You see, the church is the dwelling place of God. If we leave him in the sanctuary on Sunday, then how much effect can He have in our lives on Monday?

By adjusting our concept of the purpose of the church, we take a huge load of expectation off of our pastors and church leadership. Just as a shepherd leads his flock to food and water, and a pastor is one who leads us to the truth. He cannot hand feed us, nor should he be giving us IV fluids. He can lead us to the right place, but we must shoulder the responsibility to do what needs to be done while we are there.

If you find yourself discontented with your church experience, reevaluate your expectations. Take responsibility for learning and growing in your relationship with Christ. So many people are at a loss as to how to develop this relationship – all I know to say is this: take all the best features of all the people in your life and apply them to this person who is with you at all times. Then magnify that person’s goodness a thousand fold. Here is your constant companion who is the embodiment of love. Then talk to Him, consider Him in your choices, be intentional in your thoughts toward Him. All of this develops this relationship. Listen for Him in your heart, in your thoughts, in your circumstances. Revel in the blessing. An attitude of gratitude makes it so much easier to hear Him.

In all this, you will find that you are the living tabernacle, the daily church. When you join other believers in worship, with the unrealistic expectations lifted, your experience may just be all that God intended it to be.

So, how do you feel about your church?

Sunday II

Another week we didn't go to church. I've decided that this will be a good way to journal about this experience. Why might it be such a big deal to me, personally? How does it impact my family?

First of all, you should know this about me. I was raised in church. My mother was saved when I was a baby, my father accepted Christ during my Dedication ceremony. Other than a few times in our lives when my parents weren't active members somewhere, I spent my entire life in this habit. We went Sunday morning and evening, Wednesday evenings, and occasional weekly Bible studies.

We were generally members of Pentecostal churches, some more radical than others. We tended to go where they were teaching-heavy. As a teenager, I sat under a born-again Jewish charismatic bible scholar. As newlyweds, my husband and I sat under an Old Testament scholar.

To say I have been steeped in Bible teaching would be an understatement. I've been basted, broiled, baked, slow-cooked, hard-boiled and steamed in it. Yet here I am. Not in church. It feels strange, as if I am slipping through some crack in the religious landscape, to discover another foreign world.

I am discovering a simple joy in spending my days and nights considering my Lord. Who is He to me? What is He to me? In being relieved of the pressure to conform to some society's concept of the proper Christian, I have been freed to get to know God, my heavenly Father, Jesus, my Savior and joint-heir in the Kingdom, and the Holy Spirit, my constant all-knowing companion.

This is not where I will be quoting scripture to convince myself of my right or wrong. I know them, and that they apply. It is never sufficient to just know any part of God's Word. Without the wisdom to apply it to my life, it is fruitless. So, in this time of not being in church, we are sitting down to the dining room table each Sunday morning to read and discuss Proverbs. If it's wisdom we need, that's a great place to start.

Eventually, I trust that God will lead us to the right place of fellowship with other believers. In the meantime, I'm going to practice this concept of being the church, where ever I am. Perhaps my sons will come to know God in a more personal, un-religiously-cluttered way through this experience. I do not question what God is doing in our lives right now. It is all about walking through the fog, toward his voice, and finding we've been supported by grace all along.

What about you? Church or no church? Why?

Sunday

Did you wonder where I was? I was in the wind, and it was good.

God tells me wonderful things when I move away from what's comfortable, familiar and distracting. Somewhere between home and Grand Isle, He spoke to me.

I am the church. You are the church. It's not a building. I know, I know. We've all heard this. Sometimes, it takes a while to get down on the inside of us.

No wait, there's more. He reminded me that I am the church at home, and in the grocery store, and on the road. I am the dwelling place of the Most High God, no matter where I am. So, unless I had an out of body experience Sunday morning, I didn't actually miss church.

I did miss the fellowship. I missed seeing the friendly faces and soaking up the worship. I didn't miss a great conversation with my husband about how God operates in our lives. I didn't miss taking care of my sick son.

I still struggle with this. I feel like I've done something wrong when I don't go. At the same time, I've never felt more discontented with the modern church than I have in the last couple of years. A big part of that is what is happening in me. A big part of it is what's happening in the church as a whole.

In His way, God was reassuring me that I am still His child, in church or in the wind. He made me think, made me meditate on His Word and made me laugh. That's a pretty good time. What I know, deep down in my heart, is that I don't need religion. I don't need a list of rules to dictate my behavior. I don't need more teaching on prosperity, faith or healing.

What I need, is God. In the morning, at noon, in the evening and in the dead of night. More than I need to see my husband or hear my children's laughter. More than I need to write, to clean or to give someone well-meaning advice. I need the relationship that draws me so close to Him that I smell of Him, take on His mannerisms, speak as though He's in the room.

Church is within me - the observances of worship and learning, they dwell with me every moment of every day. All that I am missing is the fellowship of believers. So, I'll see you in church, but not religiously. I'd rather share a meal and little bit of life with you, and know that God in me was happy to see God in you.

What is church to you?

Masks

Here in Southern Louisiana, we are in the thoes of the Mardi Gras season. Since I have been here (over four years now), I have heard the widely differing views held by Christians on whether we should be in any way involved in this holiday.

From a fundamentalist point of view, the holiday originated in the Catholic church, and was a perverted incarnation of Christian observances, as are many Catholic traditions. It is a sad fact, that so many in this region must by now recognize, that religion has far more influence on our lives than relationship does.

I'm not anti-Mardi Gras. I am anti-Fat Tuesday, Bourbon Street booze fest. I am anti-loud rap music with offensive lyrics. I am emphatically anti-greed induced frenzy, which is the reason I hate Halloween, as well.

But that's not what I meant to blog about today. If you will indulge me this, head over to my other blog to read "What's Behind the Mask?" at http://designsbyjolea.blogspot.com/

Thanks.