Life Without Church - Part 1

The following was written about a month ago, and I never really finished it, but I started writing something else today and realized that what I was writing was "Part 2" of this post. So, today I give you Part 1...

I went to a baptism yesterday. It was the first time I've attended church in years. And it wasn't a church service, per se. It was an outdoor baptism service following the "regular" church service. It was hot and bright and the late summer wind was stirring up all my allergies. Even so, I found myself feeling all sentimental and nostalgic, closing my eyes to sing and just be with the Jesus-followers around me, in all of our imperfection and discomforts...and commitment to the same God and Creator, who forgives us our imperfections and loves us like we love our children, fiercely and unconditionally. I found myself singing that oh-s-familiar refrain,

I have decided to follow Jesus
I have decided to follow Jesus
I have decided to follow Jesus
No turning back
No turning back

The simplicity was stunning. And my eyes were stinging. And I realized that I wanted Mane to know this song. I want her to have the precious little gems I got out of growing up in church. Somehow, I want her to have this experience of being a pilgrim on a journey with other pilgrims. I want her to know that our family isn't the only family on this journey. I want her to know that there are other people in this family. I want her to know that following God comes in all shapes and sizes, that everybody has unique ways of being a God-follower. I want church. Not a building. Church. I want people who have the grace to not argue theology and church politics, who won't get hung up on doctrine. I want to talk about all of those things. But I don't want to argue. And, in the end, I want grace.

The real truth is that we don't go to church because we don't want Mane's impressionable mind to loaded with prejudices and legalism and an all-one-way kind of doctrine.  And we don't want to have to be exactly like everybody else to belong. And, really, we want a church that is more about relationships than Sunday, Wednesday and Saturday services.

I don't know what this means because we haven't found what we want anywhere. And maybe it's because we don't have enough grace and flexibility to just go and be there and forgive the differences and choose to be part of something anyway. It's so difficult to find the line where wanting grace and flexibility becomes graceless and rigid.

I do know that, because we don't go to a church service in a church building, we have to be that much more intentional about teaching our children who we are and what we believe. Church-going offers a structure that is hard to come by in any other way. We must, instead, be intentional about finding fellowship, learning scripture, practicing prayer, and singing those favorite hymns. It's harder than I had imagined.

what matters most to you?

I've been having an email conversation with a friend. She's known all her life that she's gay. She has fought this all of her life. She is preparing to tell her truth and to therefore be disowned by her family. She is ready to be honest.

My response to her?

I love you. I'm sorry you're hurting.

The End.

I just finished watching the conversation between Jennifer Knapp (a Christian artist and a lesbian) and Pastor Bob Botsford on Larry King Live. It left me itchy. Whatever your beliefs about homosexuality, I'm confused at what point a person finds themselves the authority, the one to say, Choose between Christianity and your sexuality.

I'm a Christian, and I know this is a hot button issue in my faith community. Sometimes I'm just not so sure why we're even talking about it. Why are we so focused on it? As Christians, what "should" we be focusing on?

Derek Webb asks some good questions...
(if you don't like swears, don't watch it)

As usual I love the point that's made through this song, that we're so focused on the wrong things. Please tell me, if a person is expending their little left-over energy on another person's moral choices, how do they have room for the sick and the poor and the orphan and the widow?

Sometimes I wish we all could sit together the exact same way we alcoholics sit together. If we did, I'm certain we'd have no room in our hearts for judging lifestyles. Those hearts would be so filled with the power of mercy and a holy redemptive freedom, we would go mute. There would be a lull in the crowd, mouths agape, standing in awe of love. We would see each other the way Christ sees us and the words that follow the pointed finger would be held captive by grace.

I guess this makes me a grateful alcoholic who fully admits she doesn't have all the answers, and is too busy learning to love and be loved to pass my time digging around in the lives of others in an effort to be right out of fear.

I want to transcend, to rise above all of this. I really do. To be a friend to my friend, and that is all.

Pastor Bob says that "sin is not ruling my(his) life," and that Jennifer is "not allowing Jesus Christ to reign over her life."

This is what gets me. Those very words. Those beliefs. It hurts. I hurt for my friend and I hurt for me. Because had people known about my addiction and had they told me, "Sin is ruling your life Heather"...I highly doubt it would have helped me, even if they were right to some degree, a degree I can't claim to fully understand. It would have left me hurting, even if they added, I tell you this because I love you.

I'm pretty sure my heart's response would have been something like, Okay. Now what am I allowed to tell you? Should I point out the way you believe you hold some higher authority, some right to point fingers? Have you ascended beyond having sin rule over your life? What are you not seeing about yourself if can say such things? Unless you can honestly say you're perfect, it's very difficult to find the dividing line between the sin-ruled life and the life Jesus reigns in.

If a man walks into a meeting with fellow alcoholics and says that he's relapsed and cannot stop. If he smells of whiskey with a touch of red wine, what happens?

Open arms, friends. Open arms. We're glad you're here today. That is the only response. And that is why the room is safe and holy, life-giving and life-changing. The change will come. After love.

I can't claim to know if homosexuality is a choice or a sin...I can't. I can't spend my energy looking over the arguments on both sides, arguments that both hold valid points and believable research. I don't think that's what I'm here to do. My friend's journey is her own, as is mine, and I simply love her for being her.

I just needed to get that off my chest.

The truth is, most Christians think alcoholism is a choice

When I say that alcoholism is a disease, I'm often met with the same response from Christians,

Well... kind of.

Family, friends, professionals, it doesn't matter,

Well...kind of.

The commonality among people who have said this to me? They are not alcoholics.

I do understand why Christians struggle to understand alcoholism. As believers in the Bible, what comes to mind for them is "do not become drunk on wine..."

~~~~~

As a Christian and an alcoholic, I struggle with this mentality. I don't want to become angry or resentful, I just hope that I can help people understand, even if my effort here falls on many a deaf ear, I guess I just need to say what I need to say and then let it go.

I don't want to argue, but I do want to talk about this.

The way alcoholism is approached in most Christian circles is truly damaging. There is already so much shame in the mind and heart of the alcoholic, so to hear the message that this disease is a sin and a choice only compounds those feelings and therefore hurts rather than helps.

I'm writing about this today because I heard a pastor speak last night and it left me hurting, sad, frustrated....

The pastor was invited to speak to a group of alcoholics, to encourage and enlighten. I respect this man and truly appreciate him for having the courage to stand up and talk to people he may not fully understand. I believe he was nervous and uninformed, so this isn't about blame or judgment. This is about a deep desire in my heart to prevent my fellows from being hurt in the way they were last night. That's all it is.

To make a long story short, what I heard last night was that I've made my bed and it's going to be difficult, but now I have to lie in it and I should remember to love everyone, even the most unlovable, because well, look at me-God loves even me, so I should pass that on. I heard that I made a choice to be an alcoholic and that it's only because I grew up with bad examples (not true). And Jesus fed the multitudes with a few fish and a loaf of bread because he felt sorry for the people even though he was busy, and so He must love me, too. Even me.

Now, before I receive comments that tell me that my drinking was sinful, I want to be clear. Yes. I drank. I chose to take that first drink all those years ago, at a legal age, just as many other people do and then go on to never struggle with drunkenness or addiction.

But for me, that one drink never stopped. I am an alcoholic. I have a disease, and therefore, my drinking snow-balled all on its own. Please trust me if you can. I consistently found myself unable to control the amount I consumed and completely unable to control my ruminating thoughts about drinking. For so many years, I thought this had to do with me, as a person, that I was more flawed, lazy, lacking self-control. I couldn't understand what was happening. I had heard my entire life that alcoholism is not a disease. So, my conclusion was that I was simply failing, and then failing, and then failing again. It wasn't until I learned MUCH about the physiological aspects of this disease that I finally could get real help that made it possible for me to stop. I absolutely could not stop without starting a rigid program of recovery. That, my friends, is a disease.

So I look at what this man said last night and I roll it over in my hand like a stone and I feel it, I just let myself see it and feel it, and then I have no choice but to forgive it, tossing that sad stone away, over and over.

I guess what I'm asking here is this: When considering your beliefs about alcoholism, please know your unknown. Please know you can't judge something you have not experienced.

I heard this little ditty in treatment: The truth needs no defenders.

The truth, it stands on its own no matter what. It just is. Like alcoholism, it just is. Like redemption, it just is. None of those three things can be changed by our will, but there they are.

No matter what I do, I'm an alcoholic. And no matter what I do, I am redeemed. And no matter what I do, that's the truth.

In the end, no matter what anyone thinks of me, I know that alcoholism found me so I could find true freedom. And because of this disease, I have the gift of knowing more about unconditional love than I could have learned any other way. I'm grateful, and I will not be angry about these uninformed opinions of me, because I cannot afford to have this gift stolen.



"Alcoholism is a physiological disease with spiritual consequences."-Father Martin

God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.
Peace.

For

Ask yourself more what you are for than what you are against. Then live what you are for.

Yeah, that's all I got.

Except that I really liked this post by Shaun Groves.

Peace out.

Oh and one more thing. The nitty gritty details of my drinking story are being shared tomorrow as an introduction to a series on motherhood and alcoholism. I'm nervous. You can find out where that is tomorrow at the EO.

Peace back out.

The "I" in Church

I had a sinking feeling the other day. I started to wonder what Miles had been told about Easter at school. He goes to a Christian preschool, and I suddenly realized this meant that, most likely, the Crucifixion story had been...covered. So one day last week, on the couch being silly, I asked him what he knew about Easter.

Nothing.

Nothing? Didn't they talk about it at school?

Yeah, but I don't want to talk about it.

Oh. Why?

They put nails in his hands and feet in wood and I don't know why he had to do that.

(Long pause while I was think think thinking fast.) I rub his little hand and I say,

Honey, it's okay that you don't understand. I don't think you're supposed to understand because you're four and your brain isn't ready to understand. How about if you try not to worry about it for now and if you have questions, we can always talk about it.

I said this all calm and reassuring like, but to be honest, there was a tornado in my head and heart. An angry tornado.

He is FOUR! He's scared and this will take a long time to undo. Anyone who doesn't believe that needs to take some time to consider the development of a child. Before they are old enough to own who they are, they are asked to give up who they are. That's what Jesus did for you, now you need to give your life to Jesus. But how are they to know what they are giving, or how?

Some think this teaching at a very young age gives roots and a foundation and I can't begrudge or judge that...I need to simply consider what I want to do for my boys.

I want to be so careful about what those roots are buried in, and with what that foundation is made of. Fear? Guilt? Shame? Or hope? Trust? Joy?

When thinking through his relationship to church and God in his book, Blue Like Jazz, Donald Miller writes, "Perhaps it was because my Sunday School classes did much to help us memorize the ten commandments and little to teach us who God was and how to relate to Him, or perhaps it was because they did and I wasn't listening."

I'm sure it's much of both in my life. As a child, I wasn't very good at listening. Like most kids, I wasn't ready to sit and soak in things that were, for the most part, above my developmental head. And so, the stories and rules for life fell a bit flat, and then they were heard so many times, they became background noise.

This is my fear. When all that pressure is on, at such a young age, it solidifies what is already true of children...I am the center of the universe. We do that in church. In an effort to teach a person, to get them to take responsibility, to see their sin, we focus focus focus on not only the do's and dont's, but almost soley, in nearly every church I've ever entered, on ourselves and our lives. We sit around trying to perfect our own faith.

It's all about me. Am I getting this right? Am I getting this wrong?

Of course we do need some focus on these things, right and wrong. We need to learn. I'm not saying there's no place for it. I'm saying something else I'm not even sure I can articulate. Maybe simply that we focus on it more than anything else and in my mind that's too much.

After I quit drinking I had an email conversation with some Christian friends of mine. They were not at all judgmental, just curious, when they asked, "As a Christian, how did you keep drinking when you knew it was wrong?" Well, that turned our email conversation into quite a long one. Part of that conversation had to do with being brought up in the church. I told them that one thing I've seen now, after quitting, is that there is more unconditional love in a meeting of drunks than in any church I've ever been in. And beyond even that, there is more holiness, more redemption, and more freedom than anywhere I've ever been in this life. It is just so full of the bigger picture of hope.

I read this today, and it helped to solidify my thought process:

People often ask what makes (this program-12 step meetings) work. One of the answers is that (this program) works because it gets people away from themselves as the center of the universe.

A person cannot sit in these meetings and think much of themselves. It's nearly impossible. It isn't about shame, that's not what I'm saying. It's about telling the truth, exactly as it is, and knowing you're safe. When you witness people doing that, there is no room in your head and heart for yourself. Not in those moments, because the whole truth is full of holiness, and in holiness we experience moments of freedom from ourselves. And then it becomes a practice, a meditation almost. I will just sit here and listen, that is all I will do...and we will find true fellowship in honesty and then we will see the face of God and know Him. In mercy. In acceptance. In forgiveness.

What happens next is what keeps us sober. We listen...and then we help not with 'you must do this' and 'you must do that,' but in sharing what has worked for us. Sometimes we help by simply listening, and then mostly by encouraging. In this moment, you are in the right place. Tomorrow you will think of tomorrow. Yesterday is done, and you are here and that is good. That is enough. Judgment isn't allowed and it doesn't come naturally because no one there is pretending to be anything. We are in a position that forces only one issue: we are all the same.

In short, this experience brings me closer to an understanding of who God is and how to relate to Him. And other than that I don't even know what I'm trying to say. I'm thinking out loud. I'm processing.

What my children's faith is rooted in is extremely important to me. They can turn into good kids who follow the rules and talk the talk and even walk the walk, but if their faith is rooted in self and the fear of that self, it is empty. The road to spiritual maturity will be that much longer, and I know exactly what that's like. I still have so far to go, so far, and I cannot deny that I'm starting to recognize why.

Am I blaming the church? No. Am I recognizing that we have to be careful how and what we teach and when? Yes. We do so many things, teach so many things, from programs, ritual and religion. I am desperate to experience something different and even more, I'm desperate for my children to experience something different. And I don't know what to do.

~~~~~~~~~~

Have you thought about this? If you grew up being taught in the church, what do you think needs to change? What are the benefits in your mind? If you don't do the church thing and yet you're a believer, why don't you go? Please think along with me and let's refrain from judgment. I'm not looking for concrete answers, but simply, a conversation.

I am not at all trying to turn people away from church. I realize it is not about what you get, but what you give, but I do think there can be a tone that stunts that. I want to go. I want my family to go. We go. I know that many good things come from going. But to be honest, I've only attended one church that had me feeling like I belong. It was a life-giving and unconditional place. The diversity had a sameness to it. There was a spirit to the place that I can't describe...something that is missing from any other church I've attended. That's just the honest truth, but maybe it's just me.

Skeleton Bones

Even though I really can't sing, I will be walking around singing this song.

Love.

Soul Sick

"Why do you hasten to remove anything which hurts your eye, while if something affects your soul you postpone the cure until next year?"
-- Horace

This quote was in my inbox this morning. It cut right to my core. Just this morning while I was getting ready for work I had something in my eye and within seconds I had out my little magnifying mirror and quickly removed that annoying stray fuzz. Later as I was applying my makeup, I was thinking about some choices I had made recently. Not anything horribly bad, but enough to make me stop and think. My attitudes, my words, my lifestyle have been less than stellar... And I know it's not how I want to be. But I so easily justify postponing any changes. Next week I'll be better, next month, next year... Then I will deal with my shortcomings. I will deal with those little vises that make my soul slowly sick. Why don't I immediately pull out my magnifying mirror, aim it at my soul and go to work removing those annoying little things?
Because that would involve change, that would involve making better choices, it might even affect how people view me.
I wish I was more concerned with my soul than I am all the other trivial things I worry about in life. Right now it doesn't seem like that big of a deal, but what happens when all those little things start to build? Maybe if I were to deal with the issues at hand, then maybe I wouldn't have to spend so much time picking up all the pieces when things get really messy?
I'm not sure what to do. Actually I do know what to do, but do I want to make changes? Not really... but I should. today. not tomorrow.