Category Archives: religion

January 9, 2020 · 4:05 PM

Why I Stay Away From The Church Of Christ

*Disclaimer. I’ve obviously never been to every Church of Christ in existence, and I haven’t met all of its members. I know every church has its own “feel”, and that it is made up of individuals who, like me, are just trying to do the best they can. What follows is based solely on my own experiences at a handful of difference C of Cs, with a handful of members, over the course of a few decades. Keep in mind as you read this that I have been hurt by the church, badly, and that these words are deeply informed by that hurt.*

I almost titled this post, “Why I left the Church of Christ,” but then I realized that 1) I’ve already done that, and 2) that’s not really what this is about. It’s about why I continue to stay away. Why I’m continually reminded, years later, why I felt forced to make the decision that I did.

A very brief primer for those who didn’t follow me back then: I left the church because I was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the “We are the ONE true path to God” rhetoric. I left the church because I was being taught how to judge, not how to love. And I left the church because I found it hypocritical that some “sins” were elevated above all others (ie: homosexuality, which I don’t actually believe is a sin), while others were celebrated. Fact: I never truly understood what gossip meant until I joined a women’s “prayer circle.” Holy moly.

I was damaged by the church, and if you think that’s an exaggeration, I assure you I’m in good company. Many many people share my story, from many different congregations, and many different walks of life. And every time I think I’ve healed from that damage, something comes sneaking to the surface that tells me, “Nope, not yet.”

This time it was anger.

Because the fact is, one of the biggest reasons I stay away is because I’m not welcome, something I’m reminded of on a nearly daily basis.

And I get it. I do. In this current political climate, people are drawing hard lines in the sand. God knows I haven’t been shy about my feelings about Trump.

But when friends (and by friends, I mean people I used to go to church with) are posting things like this:

Or proudly wearing their shirts that say things like this:

The message is clear. As a Democrat, as a liberal, I’m merely a punching bag. Something to insult. A butt of a joke. Their church welcomes conservative Republicans. Full stop. And honestly? Even if I did feel welcomed? It still wouldn’t change the fact they also don’t welcome LGBTQ members, or a host of other people, except under the guise of “praying for them” and helping them to turn away from their sinful lifestyles.

Another fun fact? I have dealt with depression my entire adult life, another thing I’ve been told isn’t “of God.” That if I’d just turn to God, he’d take it away. I still remember, over a decade ago, when a truly lovely and kind and Christ-like church member, someone I’d always looked up to, died by suicide. And the collective grieving that followed was not just focused on the loss of this beautiful soul, or the fact that depression had claimed another victim, but on how unfortunate it was that she was going to be permanently separated from God. That murder was a sin. That suicide victims could never go to heaven.

Judge and jury. Against everyone and everything they don’t deem as right. Or holy. Or pure.

Or just like them. And that’s really the biggest one of all. They cater to people who believe like they do. And think like they do. And behave like they do. Everyone else? Well, you’re welcome to come, as long as you’re fine with us telling you everything you’re doing wrong.

And let me be clear. I’m fine with like-minded individuals gathering to worship or to fellowship or to pat themselves on the back. Honestly. But don’t pretend to be something you’re not. Don’t pretend to be “bringing people to Jesus” when you’re pushing them away. Don’t pretend to be “spreading God’s love” when what you’re really spreading is judgment. Don’t pretend that “all are welcome” when you and I know both know that someone like me would not at all be welcomed… and would, in fact, be ridiculed, gossiped about, and/or eventually asked to change my ways or leave.

I love God (something I didn’t truly learn to do until after I left the church), and I wholeheartedly believe that He loves me too.

Even if I’m not, nor will I ever be, a conservative Republican.

My God Won’t Leave You Stranded On The Side Of The Road

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Christianity has a bit of a PR problem.

As I type that, I want to laugh (except of course that I’m so sad I want to cry), because it’s just about the biggest understatement I could possibly make.

Christianity has a really really huge, colossal PR problem. The word – and concept – of Christianity has become such a marred and dirty word that I don’t know that it’s likely to ever recover. In fact, many God-loving people are abandoning the word altogether, because they’re sick and tired of having to follow the statement of “I’m a Christian,” with a hastily uttered addendum of “But not one of those Christians.” I actually started calling myself a follower of Christ a few years ago, because I felt like it more accurately described my position.

And really, who wants to be associated with… well, those Christians?

People hear the word Christian these days and they think of people like Phil Robertson. They think of people freaking out about coffee cups. They think of people freaking out about bathrooms in Target. They think of people freaking out about the phrase, “Happy Holidays.” (Are you sensing a pattern here?) They think of people petitioning and boycotting and generally spending their collective time and energy on being negative. They think about people withdrawing their funds for starving babies – literally taking food away from hungry children – because of an administrative policy that wouldn’t discriminate against gay people. They think about bakers refusing to make wedding cakes. They think about hatred. They think about prejudice and bigotry and judgement.

And as of this week…. they think about tow truck drivers proudly taking a stand and refusing to tow the car of a disabled young lady who’d just been in accident… all because she had a Bernie Sanders bumper sticker on her car.

People hate Christians.

And not because, as some would have you believe, they’re doing God’s work à la Matthew 10:22 (“You will be hated by everyone because of Me, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved.”) No. They’re hated because too many of them have been behaving like horrible, horrible people – and it could stand to be said: not at all Christ-like – and then proudly claiming God as their justification.

And I get it. I struggle with my love for my fellow Christians too. I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to desperately yell, “We’re not all like this!!” Yes, 98% of my writings on Christianity have been born of straight-up frustration. No question.

But I realized something.

In the time it took me to decide to write about this, to find the perfect picture, and to brew the perfect cup of coffee, it dawned on me:

This is not about Christianity at all. It’s really not. It’s about select individuals making bad decisions, and using “God” as their cover. I’d like to believe (really, I need to believe) that people are smart enough to see the difference. That anyone with a working, thinking, rational brain can recognize that a Christian, as in a follower of Christ, is NOT synonymous with a “Christian”, as in “I’m going to leave an innocent girl stranded on the side of the road BECAUSE GOD TOLD ME TO.”

Am I horrified by this behavior? Yes. Do I find it absolutely disgusting that anyone would bring God into something so ugly? Yes. But my ranting and raving and general defensive word-spewing only serves to bring me down to their level. I’m not the spokeswoman for Christianity at large. Beyond that though, I can’t control what anyone else does. I can’t control what anyone else thinks. If someone wants to behave like a complete and utter jackass and delude themselves into thinking it’s what God wants them to do, it’s their choice to make. If someone wants to lump all Christians together and label them all as horrible, bigoted, self-seeking sycophants, so be it.

None of that changes my faith. None of that changes my God.

Have you met my God?

(Ack, I just heard the way that sounds. Please don’t stop reading. I do NOT mean that in a door-to-door, “Brother, have you accepted the LORD JESUS as your personal savior??” kind of way. What I mean is… do you know who it is that I – and others like me – personally follow? Because let me perfectly clear: It is not a deity who would ever… ever ever ever… ask me to turn my back on someone who needed my help. In fact, my God is very much the opposite)

My God has more love, and grace, and patience than humans can even comprehend. Love and grace and patience for ALL people …. Black people and white people. Gay people and straight people. Christians and atheists and Jewish people. Sanders supporters and Trump supporters. Able-bodied and disabled. People who spend Sunday morning at church. People who spend Sunday morning at Target.

My God wants me to feed the hungry, to clothe the poor, and to stand up for the oppressed. It’s kind of the whole reason I’m on earth. I really believe that. All this other stuff… it’s just noise and distractions. And make no mistake; I miss the mark, a LOT. (More on that later) But what I strive for? This is it.

My God wants me to use my powers for good, not evil. I realize I’m a person and not a superhero, but it’s far more interesting to think of our skills, talents, and gifts as super powers, don’t you think? I like to think that my super power is writing, but, you know, I’m not God, so…. A few years ago, I thought I heard God to tell me to get trained to teach yoga, so I did. And I’ve spent many moments since then wondering if that was the right decision. I had two shoulder surgeries in two years. I have had chronic physical illness, chronic pain, and the worst anxiety and depression I’ve ever experienced. I’m clearly supposed to be learning something from the experience, and I’m still not sure what it is. Maybe one day I’ll go back to teaching. Maybe I’ll shift my focus elsewhere. But I digress. We’ve all got powers, and we all get to decide how we use them. My God wants me to use them for good, whatever they ultimately end up being.

My God wouldn’t ask me not to bake a wedding cake. If wedding cakes were the way I brought to the world my skills and my heart and my love of Christ, He would ask me to bake two. He would ask me to make the best damn gay wedding cakes that ever existed, and to do it with love. He would ask me to throw in some free cookies too. Not the day-old ones that were sitting out in the case and starting to get dry around the edges, but fresh cookies. Beautiful cookies, made with the finest ingredients I could get my hands on.

My God wouldn’t ask me to spend my time and my energy and my blood, sweat, and tears on picketing, petitioning, and boycotting. My God tells me that my time is so much better spent doing the work I need to do on myself so I can live out my faith to the best of my ability. So I can show people what Jesus actually looked like; so I can show people how Jesus actually behaved.

My God wouldn’t ask me to leave anyone stranded on the side of the road. The entirety of what I feel, and believe, and know to be true about my God and my faith tells me that the moment someone is in need is in fact the very moment that we’re here for. As a follower of Christ, as a person with a heart and a soul, as a human sharing this earth with other people, I am here to help my fellow man. This is it. This is what it’s about. Forget the fact that it was his job as a tow truck driver to tow his car. Forget that. He was there to do a job, and he chose not to do it. And I don’t know… maybe he hates his job. Maybe he’d had a bad day. Maybe he had a traumatic Bernie Sanders bumper sticker incident in a past life. Setting all that aside…. no matter who or what he may believe in, or why he was there, or why the woman needed help in the first place: as a human being, with values and morals and a sense of right and wrong, there was only one thing to do. And he didn’t do it. And then, he blamed God.

Which brings me full-circle to the beginning of the post, and the agony of people behaving badly, and the sadness and frustration of people lambasting Christians as a whole for believing in a God (except they usually words like “imaginary sky ghost”) that would ask them to do something so awful.

Let me say again that my God wouldn’t want me to leave anyone stranded on the side of the road. Whoever or whatever those people are talking about is not my God.

And I’ll be perfectly clear (and honest). God knows, I don’t always do the right thing. I want to; I do. But I’m a fallible human. Sometimes I let fear, or pride, or ego, or laziness, or just plain selfishness keep me from doing what I know in my heart is the right thing to do. I’m a work in progress, like everyone else. But when I drop the ball, when I do something unkind… IT’S ALL ON ME. And when you drop the ball and do something unkind, it’s all on you too. Not God.

My God wants me to love my neighbor. He doesn’t want me to be an asshole. Full stop.

I’m tired of having this discussion over and over. I’m tired of people behaving badly. I’m tired of the emotional gymnastics I always go through when people rail about how horrible Christians are… when half of me wants to agree with them, and the other half is cut to my core at the hatred, wanting to curl up and cry, “But… but… we’re not all like that!!!”

Mostly I’m tired of all this ridiculous noise, distracting us from doing what we need to be doing, and what we need to be focused on: Doing the right thing, loving our neighbor, and standing together to say we won’t tolerate bad behavior. I don’t care who you are or what you believe in. If you stand for love and kindness, I’ll stand beside you.

I’ll stand beside you, with my God, and work on me. Work on my patience, work on my compassion, work on my love…. both for the person on the side of the road, and for the person who left her there. Both for my fellow Christians, and for the people that aim to hurt us. It’s hard sometimes. But I’m working on it. I want to work on it. God wants me to work on it. Because my God? He only wants goodness, not bad. Lightness, not dark. Love, not hatred. Anything else is not God. It’s user error. It’s humanness. It’s the dark side of humanity.

But I’ll work on me. And you (if you choose) can work on you. In the meantime…..

If you’re going to be a bigot; If you’re going to do something disgusting and inhumane: At least own up to the fact that you’re doing so out of your own moral shortcomings, and leave God out of it.

21 Comments

Filed under faith, God, headlines, hot topics, rant, religion

March 25, 2015 · 3:08 PM

An Open Letter To Phil Robertson Supporters

To my fellow Christians,

I’ve never been a fan of Duck Dynasty. Let me just admit my bias right up front and start there. I watched the show once – well before all the controversial headlines – and I would rather walk barefoot through a forest of Legos than be subjected to watching it again. But people have different tastes, and I understand that. And when you find a TV show or an artist or a public figure who you can relate to in some way, it’s a powerful thing. I think as a Christian, there’s something particularly alluring about seeing a fellow believer in such a prominent way in mainstream society. And I understand that too.

Hey this is a cool! This guy’s on this popular quirky reality show, and he’s a strong believer! What a nice change of pace!

I think we all want to feel we belong to something larger than ourselves. We want to feel that we FIT somewhere. So when someone like Phil Robertson comes along, with his beard and his ducks and his “good biblical values”, people desperately latch onto him….. and they hold on so tight that they can’t even see what it is they’re grasping.

Oh how ardently people defend him!! But what I’ve come to realize is that it’s not HIM they’re defending so much as the idea of the Christian ideal that they (mistakenly) think he represents. We should encourage and support and defend the rights of those who are putting themselves in the public eye as a representative of Christ-like behavior. Absolutely.

The problem is….. his behavior is pretty much the antithesis of Christ-like love. I’m literally embarrassed that Christians are so steadfastly standing behind this man, hailing him as a role model for Christian values. I have to ask, because I just cannot understand, even a little bit….

Seriously? THIS guy? THIS is who you choose to hold up as an ambassador of our faith? THIS is how you want to represent Christianity?

Honestly, it’s no wonder that so very very many people are turned off by religion.

This is a crass, vulgar, hate-filled man who made graphic comments about what kind of sex gay people must be having, as well as comparing homosexuality to bestiality and stating that AIDS was God’s punishment for immorality. This is not Christ-like!! (In case you’re wondering, you can find out what Jesus actually had to say about homosexuality here.)

He blames STDs on “beatniks and hippies.” Sex apparently is a very big issue for him, as it’s something he rails about often.

And most recently, he recounted a graphic, disturbing hypothetical story (pulled from his own imagination, for reasons I fail to understand) about atheists getting raped and murdered in their home.

Again, I have to ask: THIS GUY?

Now, I’m one of those rare Christians who doesn’t believe that homosexuality in and of itself is a sin (and honestly, even if I did, I have better things to be concerned about then who someone else is attracted to) but even if we disagree on that, can we agree that vulgar and hate-filled rants aimed at gay people are not the answer?

I have many atheist friends whom I love dearly, and I don’t think it’s my job to convert them. (I think it’s my job to LOVE them, and to live out my own faith to the best of my ability) But even if we disagree on that, can we agree that graphic fantasies about raping and murdering entire families of atheists are not the answer?

Can we agree that if we’re really going to represent Jesus, we need to start with LOVING people, instead of damning them all to hell?

Can we agree that if we’re going to hold someone up as a role model for our faith that it should be someone who models kindness, and grace, and actual love towards mankind?

My fellow Christians, I think we need to take a collective step back, and take a good long look at what it is we’re doing, how we’re representing Christianity, and who we’re hailing as our heroes. For me, I’ll look to Jesus for my example. But if you need a human example, there are people out there to emulate. There are kind people, loving people, people who use their platforms to spread positivity, not hatred.

I ask you though, in all sincerity, to stop looking for them on Duck Dynasty. Stop telling yourself (and others!) that Phil Robertson’s words or actions represent the true nature of Christianity, because they do not. He doesn’t represent the God that I know. He doesn’t represent the Jesus that I know. He doesn’t represent any of the loving, giving Christians that I am privileged enough to call friends.

The state of American Christianity has gotten so far off the mark that I don’t even know that it is fixable anymore. I see the worship and admiration of people like Phil Robertson, and I genuinely fear that we’ve lost our collective heads all together.

Let’s bring humanity – and some common sense! – back into our faith. Let’s give a little more effort towards “loving your neighbor as yourself”, and a WHOLE LOT LESS credence to sad, confused reality stars who are bent on persecuting others.

Sincerely,

Fed Up and Frustrated

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Filed under faith, hot topics, rant, religion

November 25, 2011 · 12:27 PM

‘Happy Holidays’ and other four letter words

The cashier was pleasant and friendly. He joked around with the kids, and easily made small talk while he lovingly rang up our toothpaste and toilet paper. He carefully bagged our baubles and breakables, and he made sure to ask if we wanted the drinks we’d just grabbed from the cooler left out. He offered the three year old a sticker. He smiled amiably while he handed me my cash register receipt, and he told me to come again.

And then, he said it.

The thing that would cause me to roll my eyes and hurry home to write the store a scathing letter detailing exactly why I would be hereby boycotting their store forever.

He said, “Happy Holidays.”

In front of my children. How dare he say such a thing to me? How dare he try to take the Christ out of my Christmas? What is the matter with our stores, and our society, today?? I felt so offended and disrespected that I couldn’t even utter a word. I angrily snatched the receipt from his hand. I gathered the kids as quickly as I could, grabbed my groceries, and hightailed it out of there. I vowed never to return again.

* * * * * * * * * *

No. What I actually did was smile – sincerely – and thank him. I wished him a happy holiday as well. I got my groceries, counted my kids, and went about the rest of the day…. feeling good about a friendly and positive interaction with a kind stranger.

To be clear, I celebrate Christmas. I have celebrated Christmas all of my life. I love Christmas. But it doesn’t even begin to bother me when somebody – be it a person or a website or a store – says Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas. For that matter, it wouldn’t bother me if someone mistakenly thought I was Jewish and wished me a Happy Hannukah. Why? To begin with, I take it for nothing more than it is: a hopefully sincere and friendly good wish from one person to another. They’re showing me a kindness and they’re wishing me happiness. Which really, is supposed to be the whole point of the season (and for the whole year, if we’re living the way we should aspire to be living)

More than that though, is the fact that nothing anyone else says can take away MY meaning of the holiday. Nothing anyone else says will change what I believe. Nothing anyone else says will damage my own personal walk as a Christian. “Happy Holiday” wishers are not – as so many believe – “taking the Christ out of Christmas.” The only one who can take my Christ out of my Christmas is me.

Let me say that again, rephrased:

The only one who can take your Christ out of your Christmas is you.

How do you take Christ out of Christmas? You take Christ out of Christmas every time you:

Don’t take the high road.

Are less than loving, and patient, and kind.

Gossip, complain about, and judge others.

Are slow to listen and quick to anger.

And yes…. grump and moan and cry about everyone taking Christ out of Christmas, instead of simply showing the people kindness and goodwill and grace, and letting them see through your actions that Christ cannot be taken out of your Christmas because Christ is living in you. No one can take that away from you, no matter what they believe or what they celebrate or WHY they celebrate.

And if you’re going to split hairs about who should and should not celebrate Christmas, it’s worth noting that 1) Jesus was most likely NOT born on December 25th, and 2) most of what we all do at Christmas time – even as Christians – are things we borrowed and adapted from pagan traditions, not the other way around.

Every year I hear more and more people complaining about what’s become of Christmas, how commercialized it is, how far it’s gotten from its true roots…. which very well may be true, but is making a big stink about it really the answer? If, like me, you believe in Jesus and His birth, then simply live it.

If you believe in having a simple Christmas, then have a simple Christmas. If you believe in giving, then give. If you believe in kindness, be kind. If you believe in boycotting big businesses and Black Friday sales and midnight deals, then by all means, stay home.

But don’t forget that “What you do speaks so loudly I cannot hear what you say.” (Emerson)

Just a couple of hours ago, I saw a Facebook photo of a group of tents set up and camped out at the entrance to a Walmart, waiting for the Black Friday sales. One of the commenters said, “People like that are nothing more than disgusting, materialistic losers.” That there is some real holiday spirit. Now I can think of about 7,253 things I’d rather do than camp out in front of a Walmart (or in line for a Twilight movie opening) but you know what? If that’s your thing, I love you just the same. I happen to think that the world is big enough for all of us, with all our beliefs and our differences and our traditions and our celebrations.

The best thing I can do to honor my God and my beliefs and my Christmas is to live my life the way I purport to want to live it, and not worry about what anyone else is, or is not, doing. There are actual problems in the world, and whether someone says “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays” is not one of them.

And don’t get me wrong. Since you know that I celebrate Christmas, I would love and appreciate a “Merry Christmas” from any one of you. But I would love and appreciate a sincere “Happy Holidays” just as much (and the diehard Seinfeld fan in me would be ever indebted if you wished me a “Happy Festivus” while you were at it.)

The Christmas cards we send every year say “Peace, Joy, and Love” on them…. partly because that was the default greeting on the design we chose several years ago and it resonated with us, and partly because it just sums up the meaning of the season – and our lives – in three simple words.

I know it sounds trite, but I really do wish you peace, joy and love… whether you’re a believer, a non-believer, or even a Walmart parking lot camper.

336 Comments

Filed under about me, Christmas, faith, holidays, hot topics, perspective, religion

November 9, 2011 · 6:00 AM

Megachurch Myths

We recently started going back to church after another year-long hiatus.

I really love our church.

I say that with emphasis in part because I just honestly love it that much, and also because it is a first for me. Having gone to church nearly every Sunday for my entire life, I never went to a church that I genuinely looked forward to. Never went to a church that I felt excited about. Never went to a church that I felt compelled to share with others. Yes, there were specific people that I grew to love, and certain aspects that I enjoyed here and there… but I never truly loved a church until now (and if I’m being honest, there were churches in my past that I not only didn’t love, but that made me outright miserable) Suffice it to say, my personal church history has made me very empathetic and understanding towards those who have sworn off church altogether.

The church we attend now is a huge church. It has over 17,000 attendees over the course of its 5 weekend services. It has a sprawling campus, separate children’s and teen buildings, a rocking worship band, a bookstore, a Starbucks, a cafe, an outdoor grill… all those things that for some reason make a lot of people really really uncomfortable. Those things that make people come to a snap judgment in their head, and offer up a categorical, “Oh it’s one of those churches.” We haven’t brought anyone to church with us recently, but we have in the past. And with a few exceptions, their reactions were undeniably (and strongly) negative. Which is weird, now that I’m thinking about it, because it would never occur to me to go someone else’s church as a guest, and follow it up with anything other than a “thank you for the invitation,” let alone a critique.

A think a large part of the problem is that in many cases, people make their minds up before they even step out of the car, based on preconceived notions and often times misconceptions. We all hold these prejudices about certain things, and these so-called “megachurches” like the one we attend are seemingly high on a lot of people’s lists. They’re judged sight-unseen because they’re …. too big. Or too impersonal. Or too irreverent. Or too much like a cult. Or something. And if you go into a church – or into any new situation or circumstance – already having pre-judged it, it’s going to live up to your expectations for better or worse, every time.

The following are some of the biggest misconceptions or myths about megachurches that I hear the most often, along with my responses. I’m just asking that you keep an open mind, and if you should ever find yourself a guest of a friend or a family member at one of these churches that you enjoy it for the unique experience that it is. Remember that they have chosen to call that church home for a reason, and that they’ve chosen to invite you for a reason too (and it’s really not to bring you over to the dark side.)

1. They are impersonal.

How can you possibly make personal connections in a church with literally tens of thousands of members? You show up. You talk to people. You join small groups. You volunteer. You get involved. Even just taking the kids to their classes every week, we are starting to see the same faces, and get the same familiar greetings. The pastor is outside the auditorium every Sunday before every service, greeting members, talking to people, throwing a football with a child, just like you’ll often see happen at a smaller church. Is it possible to remain completely anonymous, go to services, and go home without having talked to a single soul? Sure (although you’d admittedly have to be pretty rude and ignore the half dozen people that say good morning to you on the way from your car to the auditorium). But it’s a choice that you are making. It’s not the fault of the church! And it shouldn’t go without saying: I have attended small churches, with maybe 30 members, and have been utterly ignored. Yes, I could have initiated conversation, but when you’re a 20-something newlywed in a mostly older congregation, it is far more hurtful and uncomfortable to feel rejected by 30 people than it is to be an anonymous member of a church of 1,000’s, where at the very least you can count on an honest and friendly “good morning,” or “good to see you” on your way inside.

2. They are irreverent.

I went to another church once where was there a huge knock-down, drag-out (not literally) over whether or not it was okay to bring tables into the room that was used for worship, so that it could also be used for pot lucks. People got so upset about it, they left the congregation. The issue? Some people felt it was irreverent to eat in a room that should be reserved for nothing but honoring God. But here’s the thing. It’s just a building. That’s true if it seats 10 or 10,000. God just wants us to come to him. He doesn’t care if we do it from a small church or a large church or a mountain top. He doesn’t care if we’re dressed in jeans or flip flops or our “Sunday best.” He doesn’t care care if we drink our overpriced Starbucks coffees while we listen to the sermon. He just cares that we showed up.

Having said all of that… The rock-style praise music that you hear at the start of the service (one of the biggest things that makes people nervous, along with the fact that people sometimes bring their coffee into the auditorium) gradually gives way to slower, more reflective songs. When it’s time for communion – which undeniably IS a time for reverence – the room is quiet, the mood is appropriately contemplative, and everyone is able to partake in the manner that he or she finds most in line with their own personal interpretation of scripture.

3. They are all flash and no substance / They focus too much on entertainment

This is an odd one to me. Yes, I enjoy the music during the first third of the service. Yes, it’s nice that they turn it into a whole “experience” with the lights and the instruments and the video screens. They have talented musicians leading the singing, and they always choose great songs with meaningful lyrics. I appreciate it. I appreciate that I’m almost always guaranteed to laugh at least once during each sermon. I also appreciate the pretty grounds, and the big expanse of lawn where all the kids play between services, and the giant cross at the top of the hill. But that’s not why I go. I go because I know I’m going to be challenged each week, every week. I know I’m going to hear a lesson that’s based not on one man’s opinion, or on tradition, but on the Bible. I know that I’m going to learn a little bit more about what it truly means to “walk the walk,” and I know that I’m going to be given a practical and applicable “take away” that’s real and relevant in my own life, right now.

Similarly,

4. They preach a watered-down, “feel good” gospel.

First, the Bible is above all else, GOOD news. If you’re going to a church that has neglected to mention that fact, then I think you’re going to the wrong church. I’m sorry, but I do. It IS good news. It’s inspiring. It’s joyful. It’s filled with grace. But that doesn’t in any way mean that all that’s taught is airy-fairy, feel-good, watered-down, spoon-fed nuggets of fluff. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been as challenged to grow as a Christian as I’ve been since we’ve started attending this church (and granted, that may have more to do with where I am in my own personal walk. But still) Our pastor never shies away from saying the hard things. Never neglects to give us the whole truth. NEVER fails to make me think, and think hard, about why I believe what I believe, and whether or not what I’ve always thought to be true is actually biblical. It even sometimes makes me uncomfortable, in the best way, because that’s how you grow. He preaches what we need to hear, not necessarily what we always want to hear. Last Sunday, the lesson was on materialism, one that cut incredibly close to my core. We’ve been worshiping money (albeit in a weird, opposite of materialism kind of way) and it’s wrong. I don’t know that I would have fully grasped how and why it’s wrong if I hadn’t heard that particular lesson on that particular day. And while it would always be nice to live in a carefree la-la land where I can get all worked up over money all I want, I’m now facing it. Precisely because my church does NOT preach a watered-down, feel-good gospel.

And speaking of money,

5. They cost too much money to operate / They must carry a lot of debt / They are wasteful of God’s resources.

I’ll admit, this one really, really bothers me. For many reasons. For one thing, the pastor of our church never set out to create this huge Super Church. That wasn’t his goal. He was simply heeding a personal call to evangelize. When he started this church in 1982, it met in a movie theater. As it naturally and organically grew, and they needed more and more seats, they began meeting in an elementary school, and subsequently rented other buildings until they were finally able to secure their own land and build their own building. As the church continues to grow, any time a need arises for new space or new buildings, the members all contribute their funds to make it happen. When we first started going, they were taking donations for the children’s building that our three youngest so enjoy every week. In fact we all got to write on the floor before the carpet was laid, as a dedication (which was pretty stinkin cool) The church is growing and expanding so much that they now have two campuses, and have helped start 11 other various churches as well.

When you consider that as Christians we’re supposed to be winning people for Christ, I have a hard time viewing it as anything but a GOOD thing that this church has grown to the size that it has. Churches are supposed to grow!! People are supposed to be getting out into their communities and ministering to people in need. People are supposed to be inviting their friends and family to church with them. I personally wonder more about the churches that don’t grow. The ones that struggle just to maintain their current membership year after year.

Oh, but the money!! The electricity, the lights, the water, the paper! Oh the waste! That money could be ministering to needy people in other countries.

Well, yeah, it could. And while I can’t speak for other churches of this size, the church that we attend is actually quite heavily involved in overseas missions. But the fact remains that this church is ministering to tens of thousands of people RIGHT HERE, who are then going out in to the community and ministering to tens of thousands more. That is no small thing!! Does it cost money to do it? Of course! And there are lots of people willing to step up and share that burden (or blessing, as the case may be)

6. They are churches of “convenience.”

The first time I heard this, it was in reference to the fact that there were 5 identical weekend services (although at the time there might have been only 4) But I’ve heard it in other ways too: The fact that you can go to the cafe and eat your lunch while you listen to the sermon on the big screen. The fact that the outdoor grill seating area has the Sunday morning ball games playing on its many TVs. The fact that you can sit in your PJs from the comfort of your home, and watch the video version of any sermon you happened to miss. In essence, we’re back to the spoon-fed, no-effort-on-your-part assertions from #4. Here’s my problem with that: If you’re going to minister to 17,000 people, you’re going to need to schedule different times to fit them all in. That’s not a matter of “convenience” but of practicality. Having two services on Saturday and three on Sunday gives people options, and allows them the best possible chance to get the most people to church to hear that week’s message (which, after all, should be the whole point, shouldn’t it?) As for eating in the cafe, and watching the service … well, as I said earlier, I really don’t believe God cares if we’re eating while we’re worshiping him. I actually happen to think God likes it when we’re always worshiping him… whether we’re eating or showering or paying the bills. The sports thing is a non-issue for me. I don’t watch sports. But I think it’s pretty darn cool for the people who do. I see it as nothing more than another chance to hang out with other believers, bonding over a common interest while you eat your freshly grilled frankfurter. And the video sermon at home? How awesome is it that in this day and age we have that option when we have to miss a sermon?! That’s not being spoon-fed. That’s using the technology given to us by God to further study his Word.

* * * * * * * * * *

When the Bible was written, some 3,000 years ago, there weren’t 7 billion people on the earth. There was no internet. No electricity, no running water, no sound systems, no video recording capabilities. There were no cafes, no Starbucks, and no bookstores. In other words, there is no sound biblical reason to support the flogging of a church simply because it employs any or all of the above. The Bible is silent on the specifics of modern-day worship facilities, because there was no practical need (or resources) for their existence. What is the Bible NOT silent on? Love. Joy. Peace. Patience. Kindness. Goodness. Faithfulness. Gentleness. Self-control. There are no perfect churches…. not big ones, and not small ones. But if your church is preaching – and more importantly, LIVING – these nine things, it’s on the right track, whether it has 17 members or 17,000.

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July 6, 2010 · 8:03 AM

Condemnation

Every religion on the planet, and there are so many more than you are even aware of, has the potential of absolute thriving. But when you think that you must prove that you have the only one that is right—and you use your condemnation to push against the others—your condemnation separates you from your own connection that, before your condemnation, you were finding in your own religion.

Several years ago, sometime during that mired haze between having one child and having four, we stopped attending church. Though there was plenty of turmoil in the church we went to at the time, we didn’t leave because of the drama, hadn’t engaged in any fight. We didn’t leave in a huff, and we didn’t leave to prove a point to anyone. We left quietly… simply stopped going, as much to move toward a better relationship with God, as to move away from a unhealthy environment. No one asked us why we left (they seemed to prefer to come to their own conclusions) and we never really offered up an explanation.

Though there were a few reasons, this quote reminds me of perhaps the strongest one.

Mike and I both grew up in churches that were very… set in their ways, to put it kindly. Intolerant, to be a little more blunt. This was a church that believed its way was the only way, that any deviation large or small would not only be incorrect, but be sinful. I’m not proud to admit it, but I was one of the worst ones! I remember when one family left to attend a different church. It was the family of a good friend of mine, and while I of course missed my friend, I was also terribly curious as to where they landed once they left. When they were inevitably gossiped about – in that hushed, whispered, let’s pray for their souls kind of way – I found out. They were attending a Methodist church. ! Oh the scandal! As ludicrous as seems now, I was flabbergasted. How could they do that, when they knew the truth? What were they thinking? Didn’t I know them at all?

Yes, all that judgment over another Christian denomination. Though most of the church treated them as though they’d “fallen away,” they hadn’t changed religions, didn’t start worshiping some other God, hadn’t given up their faith. Back then, it didn’t matter. Methodist, Buddhist, Muslim, Jewish, Atheist… I knew nothing about any of them, and I wasn’t allowed to ask questions. They were all lumped together. They were all WRONG.

It wasn’t until I left the church as an adult that I could look back on my teenage self and truly see how egregiously wrong I’d been. It made me feel sad that I’d joined my congregation in being so judgmental, and angry that I’d been taught to look at others through such a narrow, narrow view. It made me feel small.

It was then that I decided to learn, for the first time in my life, about other religions. So I did…. by myself, and for myself. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to change my religion (I never really liked the word “religion” anyway), as it was that I wanted to understand others. I wanted so badly to learn, appreciate, and yes, even EMBRACE different religions, and I knew I couldn’t do that while I was continuing to be taught at the school of “This is right, everyone else is wrong.” My quest turned out to be one of the most rewarding and liberating things I’d ever done. Even now, years later, I still site that break we took from church as one of the most influential periods in both my own personal faith, and in my acceptance of others.

I’d been going nowhere in my own spiritual walk, so focused I was on getting it “right” and condemning others who’d gotten it “wrong”. I needed to break free of that limitation, and leaving that church was the catalyst that did it.

A couple of years ago, we started attending church again. It was a huge, non-denominational Christian church, with a beautiful campus, a rocking band, and a joy-filled atmosphere. It was a lovely church. I still think it’s a lovely church, and a welcoming church, even though it’s been awhile since we’ve been there. We’d been attending for just a short time when we had the opportunity to take some friends and family as our guests on a few different occasions. While a few seemed to enjoy themselves, others were compelled to critique it.

~It was too big.

~It was not reverent enough.

~It was not personal enough.

~It was more like a concert than a church service

~It was wrong that people were sitting back and enjoying themselves rather than worshiping (which was the most ridiculous to me, because 1) you can’t open people up and see where their hearts are at, and what they’re getting out of a particular experience, and 2) whatever else a spiritual experience may be, shouldn’t it at least be enjoyable?)

The frustration I felt from these comments, and the attitude of judgment that came with them, was immense. “This judgment is why we stopped going to your church!,” I wanted to yell, but I didn’t. I let them say what they needed to say. And in time, we stopped going to the new church too… partly because we had a toddler who couldn’t sit through the service, and partly because the most recent of the negative comments had struck an (immensely irrational) fear in me. The ones with the strongest opinions were Christians. Is that what going to church does to you? If we got really immersed in a church again, would it happen to me too? Would I become judgmental and condemning as I once was?

What I realize now – finally – is that my negative feelings towards the church I grew up in (and my frustrations with some of the people who still go there) are no different than the judgments that I’d so carefully tried to avoid. Besides being entirely wasted and non-productive emotions, it is wrong. Their beliefs, their feelings, and their attitudes, are just that – THEIRS. And while I do fully believe that anyone who holds condemnation towards others is hindering his own journey, it does not have to hinder mine. In church or out of church, I can hold firm to my beliefs, which include loving and accepting people from ALL religions, or lack thereof, and recognizing and embracing the freedom that makes it all possible.

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Filed under church, faith, religion