Author: Through Grace

I was raised in a somewhat unhealthy church group within the Nondenominational Christian Church. After graduating high school, I began attending a United Pentecostal Church (UPC). I've been a member of four UPC churches and visited many others. Of the four of which I was a member, I was "encouraged" not to leave the first and then later sent to the second; attended the second where an usher repeatedly attempted to touch me and the pastor told me I should not care about the standards of the organization and was wrong to do so; ran to a third at that point, which threw me out after a couple years; and walked out of a fourth. For these transfers and because I refused to gossip about my former churches, some called me a "wandering star, a cloud without water" (Jude 1:12). I love the fact that when the blind man was healed, questioned by the Pharisees and temple rulers, and expelled from the temple, Jesus went and sought him out. He very rarely did this once someone was healed, but for this man, he did. I believe God has a special place in his heart for those who are abused, wrongfully accused, or condemned by religious leadership. I believe He loves those who are wronged by churchianity--yes, churchianity, not Christianity, because those who do these wrongs follow a church, not Christ. 1 John 4:7-8 7 Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. 8 He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love. 9 In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him. 10 Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. 11 Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another.

Questions

I have been feeling better about God… so good that I turned on some Christian music and looked through some Christian books this afternoon. Bad decision.

Some friends and I have been talking about idolatry lately. I’m not sure that idolatry encompasses everything that some say it does, but I do know one thing: a whole lot lot of things that are sung, written, and preached about in Christianity have nothing to do with Jesus. It’s this pseudo-Jesus–and pseudo-Christianity–that I have so much difficulty with.

I can deal with a lot of the falsehoods. But when things start turning to this image of our lives being perfect when we believe in Jesus, I shut down. They sound so sure. And it sounds so great. But my first reaction to that isn’t “oooh, yes!” or “baloney.” It’s “Sure. God didn’t do that for me.” Then I shut down.

Some things are so fake, so unrealistic. Please just tell the truth. I want to understand and I want hope. But I’m not looking for hope for a perfect world or a perfect life, because the harsh reality is that’s not going to happen in this life. We’re broken, and living in a broken world. So don’t try to present your false hope to me, and never try to sell that as real Christianity.

I have questions. Who doesn’t? Perhaps the reason some people are so afraid of my questions is that they don’t want to admit that they’ve had them too… or that they might sometime. Or maybe they’re afraid that someday something could go desperately wrong for them, too. Maybe they’re afraid to consider that good people do get hurt in a sinful world, that belief in Jesus doesn’t mean that he’s going to protect them from life. Maybe they’re afraid that the soft little cocoons they’ve drawn around themselves might someday not be enough to prevent any difficulty… and maybe they’re afraid to admit that what they have is not faith in God–faith not that nothing will ever go wrong but faith that God will be with them through it even when it doesn’t seem like he is–but a false sense of security based on unbiblical but very prevalent religious beliefs.

So I have questions. Some are good, some maybe not so good. I think the main questions I have at this point, though, are these: How did American Evangelical Christianity get to this point? And what do those who can’t believe it anymore do now?

Relevant Church

I’m sitting at home this Sunday morning, enjoying the birds’ songs, petting a cat, resting. I’ve visited a number of churches in the last three years but haven’t felt at home in any. The sermons are fluffy. The adult Sunday School teachers and students know very little about the Bible and leave no room for questions or opinions other than their own. Some talk more about their brand of politics than Christ. And I’m tired.

The problem may come down to “relevant church.” Sermons about Katelyn Jenner or the latest commercials may be their way of relating to people “on their level” -being more relevant. The problem is, I’ve rarely heard someone complain that they just couldn’t relate to a sermon, much less an entire series. What I do hear far too often is that sermons are “fluffy,” that the overwhelming sugary-sweet (and almost invariably fake) greetings, smiles, and hugs are… well, like choking down an entire Cadbury egg in one bite, without a drink. Even the thought makes my teeth hurt. Like those eggs, corporate church is extremely sweet, but not rich. There’s a bolt of sugar and then… nothing.

There is shallowness hidden behind the smiles, the parties, the greetings, and yes, even the sermons and lessons and the beliefs behind them. Church doesn’t need more relevance, it needs more real relationship. Relationship with the God they tout but who is too rarely mentioned in their songs and sermons. Relationship with others -as in true caring and compassion, not empty smiles and hugs and new Facebook requests. I’ve been told they’re too busy to do things with each other, and that’s understandable. But they wouldn’t need to spend time together frequently to love those they share their Sunday pews with.

A woman in the church I spent the most time in within the last year or two messaged me this morning. “We miss you!” I stood for months’ of Sundays trying to join conversations, trying to develop relationships, feeling like I was just hanging out on the fringe, in the way. I asked the pastor for more information about the church’s terminology and beliefs in consideration of membership and was told someone else would answer those questions. It took three weeks and several emails on my part to get those answers, and even then no one ever followed up, no one asked my thoughts on the answers I’d received or asked if I had any more questions. Not once. I’d go weeks without more than a passing, rushed “hi” until I stopped attending as frequently and talked of moving closer to work. Then suddenly “But we’ll miss you! Don’t leave!” became the recurring theme. I felt pressured, but considering my experiences in the months prior to that, I did NOT feel loved.

It was a relevant church. But church doesn’t need to be more relevant, it needs to be relational. Because when it becomes relational, it will be truly relevant, since it’s through relationship that we can meet people where they are.*

*1 Cor 13 states that where there is no love, there is a hollowness, a purposelessness. Without love our words are like “a resounding gong or a tinkling cymbal.” Our words and our actions are nothing without care and compassion, without love. When we opt for video clips from popular media, harp on political soapboxes, and disallow questions or concepts different from our own, our words are empty. We are not meeting people where they are. We are not loving them.

Churchianity

As some of you know, I moved a year ago and again this year. Last time I never did really find a church, and this time I haven’t found anything yet either. After yet another really irritating situation (actually two) on Sunday, I’ve been thinking….

I’m bored with denominational churches. Not because there’s a lack of “anointing,” not because I miss the outward worship… truth be told, I was bored in FT, too -although whether or not there was much anointing in that is debatable -and even at conferences and camps (think day services, I’m not the only one who didn’t go because something else was more interesting, I think). The difference between FT and denominational churches, then, wasn’t anointing or outward worship or truth. What was the difference? Part of it was the fear of admitting that those supposedly “awesome,” “Holy Ghost filled” services were boring, and the lack of honesty or words to know they were boring… and the larger part may have been that I had the ability there to do something else if things got boring. So a Pentecostal service got boring? Try to figure out who the preacher is talking about. Get up and run the aisles, say amen, clap, dance, whatever. Think about what everyone will do after church. See what people are wearing. Watch the visitors. Start praying and moaning. Work yourself up.

It doesn’t work as well visiting denominational churches. And so I have time to think about how boring they are. Especially if they don’t have WiFi. (In WiFi churches I jump online and tune out for awhile.)

Christianity isn’t a compartmentalized institution. Following Jesus isn’t nice and neat and tidy. It’s actually a bit chaotic and a lot messy at times from our perspectives. There aren’t easy answers for everything. Some things don’t even have hard answers. But ‘churchianity’ doesn’t seem very willing to acknowledge that.

Does that mean we should give up on church? No, maybe not. But I do think it’s the reason church is frustrating to me.

I picked up a book last night that was in my ‘to read’ pile. I couldn’t put it down. The book described me, describes most of us. We’ve asked some hard questions and realized that what we’ve been told about the Bible and God doesn’t answer the questions and doesn’t even fit what we’ve seen in the Bible, and that church isn’t what we were told or expected.

So if you’re looking for a church and finding it frustrating to find one, please realize you’ve been through and done something most people in ‘churchianity’ have never dreamed of -you asked the questions, faced a decision on whether or not you would believe and what you would believe, sorted through a lot of bad teaching, and come out on the other side. And as a result, at least for me, I can’t just “do church” or “have church” anymore. Not without a few yawns and a little time on the internet, at least.

What really made me realize how bored I was:
Recently the church I went to had a nice, tidy three point sermon. I can’t remember what all the points were. The message was taken from James 2, but it only covered a couple verses and was very fluffy. Do this, do that, love Jesus, the end. *Yawn* I went from that to looking for a Sunday School class. I went to the first and asked what they were studying. The man I asked looked at me and said, “We’re all older here.” I went next door to the next class (both were for “mixed adults”) and asked the same thing. Two women told me they were all –I stopped them and said I didn’t ask WHO they were, but WHAT they were studying. They responded that they were all married. Huh???

So I did finally attend a class, though. And in that class, there was a lengthy discussion on whether we should give money to bums. I tuned out. I’ve had that discussion several times. I’ve looked into it myself, considered several perspectives, and arrived at conclusions. The discussion later turned toward whether God was biased for choosing Israel as His people. It wasn’t a “Let’s open the Bible and look into that” sort of thing. It was more of a “was not-was too!” type thing. Again, I tuned out. For awhile. Until they really started getting on my nerves and I looked up from the internet long enough to interject that we should keep in mind that the Bible was written by, for and about Israelites, but that didn’t mean that God didn’t have others serving him as well. Followed by deathly silence. I went back to the internet and they changed the subject.

So… I’m bored because I go sit inside a box with people who think inside even smaller boxes, but I’m still thinking outside the box, and even wondering why we’ve made the boxes at all.

Drowning

I’ve been drowning on the inside.
Now I’m coming up for air,
grasping at whatever is near
to keep
from going
under
again.

For four years, I’ve felt more and more rejected by those who are supposed to be most loving and accepting, and that feeling of rejection has slipped into other parts of my life. Did God reject me? Am I wrong to ask questions? Why do I have questions? Can I believe and still have the questions I have?

Don’t call me a Christian. It’s not that I don’t believe… sort of. But I’m having trouble with belief, with faith, in a world that is so black and white. But isn’t Christianity about black and white, good and evil, easily distinguishable from each other and with a clear good and bad? Maybe for some, but not for me. Not for someone who sees in grays. The absolutes? God is good. God is love. Jesus is my savior. Beyond that… a sea of grays, difficult to navigate in a polarized society, in a black and white church.

Ah, to fellowship. To be able to talk to others, to ask questions, to discuss the Bible at length without being expected to come to any conclusion, but simply enjoying the many aspects of a multi-faceted, infinite Creator God, challenging, tasting, accepting, being accepted.

And I am drowning. Lost in a sea of questions, and pulling anyone who comes close under with me in my panic for a breath of air. Hungry for understanding, confused by the polarities, and frustrated by so many who see mono-chromatically, one dimensionally a world and a God full of infinite possibilities.

Koolaid

I’m bored with church. I sat there this morning listening to the sermon. Three verses and the pastor jumped to a commercial that was supposed to somehow back the scripture. Sorry, scripture does not need to be backed by the Koolaid Man. It’s become a frequent event, this idea of scripture followed by a TV break, and it’s not the first church I’ve seen this in… or that I’ve left when this happened.

This morning he jumped into the Koolaid Man commercial. I phased out. The next thing I heard was a brief lecture on how some of us are just attending for entertainment, and that when we stop being entertained, we leave. This church puts a lot of emphasis on faithful, local church membership. I refuse to become a member for a couple of reasons. However, I don’t attend for entertainment. And if I leave, it won’t be because I’m seeking entertainment, but because I’m sick of it.

I understand that Jesus used parables to teach the people. However, he used every day, real life situations to teach them, not entertainment systems. He incorporated the teachings of the scriptures into everything he said. He didn’t go on tangents about how funny a commercial was. And the people listened.

I’ve been told too often that people today aren’t interested in deep Bible study. But everything I hear from others shows that they are as tired of the entertainment in sermons as I am. The Koolaid Man doesn’t belong in a sermon.