Lessons in Belonging- Why Church?

You know you have dropped the ball when you get an email basically saying, "Are you going to write that review or not?" And that is just for ONE book I requested. Still have another in the works. 

I have often prided myself on my ability to speed read through anything. I now realize I think I have a condition similar to bulimia when it comes to books. I binge read turning the pages furiously, emphatically agreeing with nearly every point the writer is making then a day later I set the book down and think, what was that even about? I'm not soaking in the nutrients as I should be. I just want the taste of the information and the affirming feeling of not being alone in my sentiments.

So I'm working on that. Taking my time. Obviously a little too much time.

I find it no coincidence that after reading a book about the deficiencies in modern day church I would gravitate towards a book that challenged me to reconsider my stance on church membership. The book is called, Lessons in Belonging, by Erin Lane.

Erin has a very easy readable writing style. She is humorous, genuine and cut to the chase honest. Which I no doubt love.

She touches on every issue, excuse, discontent and disconnect many of us battle when it comes to church going. And yet she beautifully expresses our deep, innate longing and desire to BELONG. She chronicles her own journey of attending a church in an effort to prove to herself and others that she ultimately CAN commit. Or can she?

This book in particular found me nodding my head and shouting YES in approval over and over again. But it also silenced me with the convicting reality of being one who complains but doesn't offer to jump in, get dirty and help to remedy the problem.

Her journey is not sugar coated, and I often wondered throughout the book if she used the REAL name of the church or changed it to protect those involved ;)

The last chapter for me was the most powerful. Most aligned with where I am, how I feel, what I want and figuring out what to do with this angst. 

To live like we belong to the body of Christ requires the ability to hold many contradictions. Even in the structure of the word belonging itself we recognize that we have to figure out a way to be present in our current community while embracing our longing for change. I think many young people have found no echo for our longing in the church, not because we don’t care but because we care so much it hurts. It is not out of irreverence that we rebel against committing to the church and all of the unattractive words that come with it like submission and accountability. It is out of our reverence that we call it to higher ways, to be a better version of itself, a more creative representation of reality as we know it. I know it’s audacious to believe that I or anyone else knows what’s more real than the next glimpse. But I’d wager we’ve all caught glimpses of the heavenly reality with our own eyes. Those moments when we know in our flesh and bone that this, this is the kingdom come. This, this is why with we groan in earnestness to make it so, on earth as it is heaven.

BUT and it's a big BUT- she points out that by remaining on the outside criticizing all the reasons we won't go in, WE are the very ones that can incite the necessary change. Clearly that can't and won't happen unless we are willing to offer ourselves, risk crossing the threshold and embark on a long arduous journey that requires patience, understanding, vulnerability, love and grace. It requires commitment. 

After I began reading this book, I decided it was time to stop hunkering down and give a church a try. 

I hate that it feels like dating. Dating is truly the worst. My husband and I often say if anything were to happen to either of us we would remain single. I struggle with it mostly because I HATE SMALL TALK. I'm just a cut the crap and let's get real kinda girl. I find no value in pretense or trying to project an image that is contrary to who I truly am. 

So when it comes to church I feel the exact same way. Which is one of the things that initially attracted me to our former church. One of the worship leaders in between songs shared his testimony of alcoholism and attempted suicide. He attested to the life altering work of God in his life. I was sold. Sadly, with a number of changes pretense became priority and the real mess of life was shoved to the outskirts. 

I long for that again. 
Just real. 

But too, as Erin says a better version of itself. Re-imagine the process. The "program".

Our quest to belong has only just begun. But I can thank Erin for helping to convince me it is truly necessary. If you need a push in that direction, I highly recommend grabbing this book! 

And from now on I will only choose one book to review at a time. :)

*Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR,Part 255.

Lice is a(n) *itch

This week we have been singing an old tune with an added letter...

Lice, Lice, baby. 

-that's right.

 Both boys with lice...

 and of course still taking care of a baby. Who I am pretty sure doesn't have it but you can never be too certain.

No words really. But you know that isn't true. Plenty will fill the screen in what I can only describe as the most horrific Halloween ever.

I was in denial. I really didn't want to face the reality that once your kids start school there are these parenting hurdles you WILL face and you MUST overcome. 

It started with the stomach bug. We recently moved into a new build. Everything fresh and brand new. I was not aware that builder's grade paint was similar to the texture of a cardboard box. Anything that splashes on it leaves a mark. Water dries and disappears. Vomit on the other hand? Not.so.much. My poor sweet boy got sick in the middle of the night (yes all aimed against the wall) but because we had been Nazis about them getting out of bed at night he assumed he would get in trouble for coming to tell us. Parenting fail. And HUGE mess after it had sat. Overnight. I scrubbed the wall to no avail. Luckily his bed is pushed up against it so the splattery stain is hidden. For the most part. The next day was a circus and I had to call in reinforcements. I was just not capable of taking care of a newborn and sickly child that needed to be in the bathroom 24/7 but preferred hanging around the couch in the living room. Ew. 

But we survived it. Only lasted a day. 

Then round two hit with THE SAME CHILD. We had returned from a long day trip to Tyler.. 4 hours total in the car. The baby had slept MAYBE 2 hours the whole day. We were hoping for a decent night of sleep. And he did GREAT! slept until 4am. So why were we awakened at 2:24? MORE VOMIT. This time splattered on our bathroom wall. Fortunately he knew to come downstairs this time. Parenting win? Another day of it and we survived, once again.

Now, one of my fears about our new home was our high pile carpet. Unlike the wall situation I was very aware of the fact that if vomit did occur on this carpet it would be a pain to clean. Too easy for it to settle in between each strand. Well you guessed it.

Next round, other kid, ALL over the bed and carpet. And yes, I'm still vacuuming bits up. TMI? 

We made it. We survived. Kids are healthy. Or so we thought.

Other kid was scratching his head. And you think, I should check that but deep down you really don't want to because you know what you might find. So you don't. Then you wished you had.

Halloween night was an exciting time. Scrambling to visit all our friends, get dinner and back in time to trick or treat in our new neighborhood. The scratching continues. So, this time I checked. And sure enough-- So like most well mannered good mothers I freaked the heck out. Basically ruined the whole night of fun for other kid. HUGE parenting fail. 

Upon our return we discover not one but two heads sporting the unwelcome little $#its. Nits. All other kid could think about the whole time is what he expressed as soon as we walked in, "Can you get the bugs out of my hair???"  Off my dear husband goes spending over $50 in treatments while I start my own home remedy of essential oils in shampoo. When he arrives home I point in amusement to our sweet lambs watching tv, head wrapped in saran wrap and a walmart sack. THESE are the photo ops we forget to take advantage of. 

I had long feared this reality. In some ways you feel responsible. If only I was monitoring their hair washing technique. If only I had checked sooner. But lice is not partial. They are an equal opportunist parasite. And I realized when you reach out to those who have endured and survived them people are more than willing to help a sister out. 

I would take vomit over lice ANY DAY. It is controllable. Containable. You have a rough idea of when it will be over. The bugs? Let's just say in all of my spiritual questions and wonderings, those will get top priority when I talk to God. What.is.the.point?

Maybe it is to prove that as parents we are stronger than we think. And when lice happens, life is not over as we know it. And maybe God gave these parasites to me to help redirect my obsessing. I actually didn't stress about theology or the afterlife or God's sovereignty. (At least for a day or two) 

To all you parents out there, many of you face much tougher situations-- Kudos to you. You are strong. You can do it. You will survive. I feel this invisible bond between us. If I see someone frantically buying every lice product off the shelf I can give the reassuring, knowing nod of I've been there and you'll get through. It is somewhat empowering. And maybe just another notch on the parenting belt to help us face the next trial. Deep down we are all superheroes. 

Seriously? The irony of the costumes.

If you encounter this unfortunate experience in your life --Lice Freeeeee! spray. Get it. Spray it. Or in my husband's case pour the entire contents over your child's head. 

And don't worry, that itching is totally normal. It's all in your head. :D

#Belief

If Oprah hadn’t done it, you know good and well I was on a mission to have it done.

Can I tell you how much I loved it? How my poor husband had to endure nights of my deep questions and annoying exuberance?

This world. This earth. This life. All the beauty in it. I was just overwhelmed. Amazed. And I felt something I haven’t felt in quite a while. INSPIRATION.

I have long held my Christian beliefs. And I grew up believing we were the right ones. We have the ONLY truth. We serve the ONE true God. As I have gotten older it has become apparent to me that is what everyone thinks about their own personal faith. Why can anyone claim a corner on the market of GOD? It brings to mind the ancient story of the blind men and the elephant. Each is touching a different part describing the elephant as undeniably such, unable to grasp the whole picture.

Isn’t that what we are all doing? Barely scratching the surface of an Infinite Being. All of us wanting to describe God as WE know Him and understand Him to be -based on our cultural biases and religious texts.

I watched each story with fascination. I cried more times than I can count.The realization that (most) everyone seeks the Beyond. Everyone, at some point questions the meaning of existence. I know many may ask and seek no further. But in each case featured on the series, these people of faith lived what they believed. Pursued the Divine. And it was breathtaking. And I couldn’t help but think of Heaven. Where every nation, tribe and tongue will be worshiping God. I know I rival Franklin Graham when I say this but maybe, just maybe, God is so big and so vast and so indescribable we each are touching only a portion of Him with our understanding.

There is so much anger and hatred and division in our world. I think we fear what we don’t know or understand. If we made the effort to study one another, other cultures, faiths and ideas could we have a greater understanding? Do we have to agree? No. Can we debate such ideas? Potentially, but only with great care and maturity. After watching this series I realized I have so much to learn. And that one day I really want to participate in the Hindu Holi day.

I will highlight a few of my favorites. The first was that of the Nigerian Muslim Religious leader and the Christian Pastor. The history of hatred and violence between those two religions in that area alone is spattered with unnecessary and innocent bloodshed. Both were justified in their anger towards one another. They were true enemies seeking to destroy one another. Until they had a meeting with a reporter that encouraged them to reconcile. They were able to hold fast to their faiths agreeing that forgiveness was something they could agree on. Both faiths teach forgiveness. Which is precisely what they have done. And now they travel together to Muslim communities-- this Christian pastor puts his life at risk in an effort to offer peace. He says, “I pray for him to become Christian, and he prays for me to become Muslim. But we are both stubborn.” Yet they work together he said for the sake of the children. These precious souls that carry the responsibility of how they will operate and respond to those who may not believe as they do. These men are showing them an honorable example of what it means to truly forgive.

The second was similar in nature. It took place in Israel--an equally if not more religiously divided place. A man of no religious affiliation, instead, a love for music, has composed an orchestra of musicians that include Jews, Christians, and Muslims. They practice together. They play together. And together they create beautiful music. Differences aside. Tears rolled down my face as I watched the concert that was filled with spectators and musicians alike that have shared a violently divisive past because of religion yet sat peacefully experiencing this moving symphony together. United.

The final highlight (so hard to limit to three!) was the Australian- Dr. John. I'm sure being from Australia helped as well as his accent which was mixed with a South African background, but he was such a genuine soul. One I felt connected to. I empathized with him. And yes, cried with him. He went on the "camino" hike--500 miles stopping at popular Catholic spots. He had lost his faith after viewing the horrific acts unfold before him as he fought in the civil war in South Africa. Many people joined him on the hike and he would speak to every individual he came across. It was so beautiful. The people. The hike. The emotion that overcame him as he entered a church for the first time in 40 years. They came together to have a meal and I wanted so badly to be transported there. To sit among each pilgrim and hear their story.

I wonder what the world might look like if we were able to find the things we actually agree on? If we could put our differences aside and focus on Love and Forgiveness? Isn’t that the way of Christ? I would argue that most religions agree on those two things.

Now before you start commenting or private messaging me your concern for my eternal destiny and tell me how dangerous this road is I’m walking-- that I’m headed down a slippery slope, please know I am not renouncing my faith in Christ. I DO believe he died to save the world. That HE is the savior of THE WORLD. That when He whispered it is finished He meant it. I believe the Bible is a beautiful book that tells us the story of many lives influenced and affected by God. And throughout the whole thing it points to redemption through Christ. Restoration has already begun.

I just want to raise awareness to the fact that we are so conditioned by our culture and upbringing. Our faith hinges so much on what part of the world we were born and in what family we were raised. I want to release God from the confines of my understanding and interpretations. I need him to be bigger. Indescribable. Uncontainable.

Eugene Peterson’s interpretation of Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 13 says it better than I could ever compose:

Love never dies. Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be canceled.

When I was an infant at my mother’s breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew up, I left those infant ways for good.

We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!

But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.

Oh. my. goodness. 

I just need to take a moment.

I long for the day our incompletes are canceled. 

Until then I will hold all of my thoughts and ideas with open hands. Fully knowing whatever they may be they are ultimately incomplete.

And I will honor the journey other people are on. Respecting the fact that they seek truth as much as I do. And desire to be complete. Any position I argue will be on the basis of love and love alone.

And if you didn’t get a chance to watch it and want to, you better believe I recorded it.. so come on over! I promise to maintain my composure.

Jesus, Bread and Chocolate-- How do we satisfy our spiritual appetite?

I have a hunch that I echo the sentiments of many out there when I express the feeling of boredom. That life in the form of faith has become a bit mundane. Predictable. On any given Sunday I could walk through the doors of any church and expect much of the same thing. Greetings. Announcements. A corny video. Some worship songs. Prayer. Preaching with 3 major points. Closing songs, prayer and lunch to follow.

There is certainly nothing wrong with the way church services are run. They are functional. And I don’t doubt those involved are sincere in their motive to worship and glorify God.

I have been involved in church my whole life. No lie. Starting with the church nursery as a baby, graduating to children’s church, then onto youth group, serving as a young adult, and eventually working on a church staff. When I was hired on, the pastor interviewing me warned me of the dark side. He said I would inevitably see the “underbelly” of church and strongly encouraged me not to become jaded. As though, because we are humans that call ourselves Christians, things WILL be done inappropriately but that is just the way it is. Maintaining status quo is more important than getting everyone involved in the ugly mess of our imperfections. So it remains quiet and swept under the rug in an effort to keep the spiritual ball rolling of gaining members and planning programs all for the sake of Christ. Then it becomes even more a challenge to sit through the service that has somehow become a performance to entertain and convince the congregation the church is a healthy, thriving entity with the sole purpose of helping people trust Jesus, no matter what the cost.

Needless to say church has been on the back burner for me. I have been feeling uninspired. Unmotivated. I’m beat down by the culture wars and battles fought in the name of Jesus. I find myself asking is this all there is? I’m craving MORE. And let me make myself clear. I do not desire to be a consumer-- To go and be fed and get the warm feel goods that keep my faith comfortable and easy. Nor am I implying I have it all figured out and the current system is just antiquated and behind the times. I KNOW I’m not perfect. But that is precisely why I want to be a part of something willing to admit just that! Not at a base level of “We recognize we are broken and in need of YOU Jesus” But someone that says “Damnit. I yelled at my kids again. How will they know the love of God when I’m constantly losing my temper?” (because swearing always adds more validity to the struggle and this may or may not be my personal confession ;) OR someone that shares how God showed up in the ordinary of their day. Someone that inspires me to look for Him in the midst of my monotonous routine--That refuses to separate the physical from the spiritual. That it is all one. And God is everywhere. Not limited to the confines of a church building or Bible study or program or conference. But in the wind that blows the leaves saying I am with you.
Now, it would be unfair and ultimately untrue for me to continue to generalize and stereotype “church” based on my very limited experience with only a handful of churches within specific denominations. Mainly non-denonminational or evangelical. There are probably many churches, even in my area, that are genuine, transparent and relentlessly committed to allowing people an encounter with God each and every time they meet. And not all of my past experiences have been negative. I have enjoyed community that I believe was authentic and genuine. I suppose I should just outright admit, I HAVE become jaded. Pride is the center of it all, yes. And of course, we ARE human trying to live out the Christian life. But on the other hand, my exposure to the “underbelly” has certainly caused me a bit of hesitation and ultimately a lack of trust in the “that’s just the way it is” mentality that keeps churches in the machine of business type models. I find it hard to sit through a rehearsed, polished, perfected program and call it “church”.
I am on a quest to authenticate my faith. Not so much to make sense of everything-- Lord knows I had an answer for every question in my past. I don’t desire certainty or doubtlessness. I desire REALNESS.
I stumbled upon an opportunity to read upcoming books and review them on my blog. After browsing thru my first options it would come as no surprise that I would choose a book with the  tagline--”Crafting a handmade faith in a mass market world.”
Jesus, Bread, and Chocolate, by John J. Thompson*

tackles the issue of “white bread” faith that has become so prevalent in our society. He skillfully compares our go to churchisms and christianese norms to that of processed junk food. It is cheap and easy to come by- always tastes how we expect and glibly satisfies. He notes how many of our tastes are beginning to shift and we are now desperately craving the good stuff. The real stuff. Not just to satisfy our physical hunger but to satiate our withering souls.

I wonder what would happen to the value of our faith if we could rescue it from the process of commodification. If a life spent in pursuit of Christ could be recognized as a radical and selfless, counterintuitive adventure instead of a carefully packaged and lifeless script, would seekers find something worth following? Might new flavors--notes that had been there all along but had been lost in the pile-- reemerge? Might the aroma of such a faith draw in people who aren’t the least bit interested in the kind of factory faith that has been cleverly marketed to them by churches obsessed with growth?

He communicates quite effectively with extensive historical and descriptive processing techniques, the time it takes to make quality bread, chocolate, coffee, beer, food and even music. Each one requires attentiveness, patience, a mix of the purest ingredients and a commitment to the process, avoiding shortcuts for a quicker result. Yet, because we have settled for less than for so long, he spends time talking about our need to develop a taste for the finer things.

Cultivating good taste is a skill that tends to bleed from one area of life into other areas. As I spend time intentionally tasting new foods and talking with friends and experts about the flavors I might otherwise miss, my appreciation and desire for the good stuff only grow. Over the years I have noticed that as my discernment improves with regard to cheap teaching, weak ideas, poorly executed community, and shallow values. Then, on my better days, I actually find the strength to say no to those things.

I may have gotten lost at times with his in depth descriptions of roasting coffee beans or the brewing of quality beer. Overall, Thompson is an exceptional storyteller and invites you into some of the deepest hurts of his life that led him to where he is today. If you choose to read this book, meaning if you resonate with any of what I have communicated then the last chapter summarizes the whole crux of his point beautifully--acknowledging his (our/MY) propensity to overlook the good that IS taking place within the church. And knowingly admitting responsibility for helping bring about the change necessary instead of quitting all together. ---------> GUILTY!
Suffice it to say, I am not alone in this quest. And neither are you. I have hope that there can be true worship unconfined by appearances and performance. That with invested time and long- suffering commitment authentic community can happen. Our souls can reawaken to the beauty of the gospel that mysteriously drew us in. It doesn’t mean we are snobbish in our desire to seek out something better. I think it means we are discerning when we realize what we have been consuming is virtually destroying us from the inside out-Or numbing us to the true experience of life. Now the question remains… where do I/we begin?

*Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR,Part 255.

A Safe Route- reentry into blogging

I have three kids. A house to clean. Meals to make. Laundry to do. The list could go on and on.

And yet.

I can't stop writing.

I burn with these thoughts and ideas and epiphanies and they flow out of my hands like water but I keep trying to dam them up because of all these superficial reasons. 

The underlying root to all of my excuses is Fear. Fear of other's perceptions. Fear of feedback or lack thereof. 

I sat with a friend today over donuts and coffee explaining how I feel I've become numb and I am so desperate to FEEL again. I want to reclaim my sense of awe and wonder. I'm tired of the mundane feeling so mundane. My eyes need adjusting. I know I have slowed down but clearly not enough to notice. To notice ALL of the beauty that life offers.  

It is time I am honest with myself and that I accept how I have been wired. I am always thinking. Asking questions. Analyzing, dissecting, wondering why and how. ALL.THE.TIME. And mainly, all of this thinking revolves around God and spirituality. So much of my upbringing involved such and I am obsessed with it. Can't seem to escape it. My mind is full of it. It is annoying. But, apparently it is who I am. 

So in my effort to shut it up and lock it away I am literally bursting inside. For a time it became my outlet, then it became some kind of competition in my mind. I was glued to the screen counting likes and comments. Wondering what relevant thing or topic I could write about next. Then I started feeling beige as though I was blending in with everyone else saying the same old things. My worth was diminished by my lack of following and I decided it was time to shut it down. 

No more. This is the seepage of my closed off musings. They can no longer be contained. And I have made up my mind that it will benefit those it needs to and be ignored by those who don't need it. Some may like it, challenge it or down right disagree with it. That is ok. I have decided it is better to allow myself to do what I was made to do than to run the other way thinking surely there is something better. It is better to feel than to become numb. Stagnant. Suppressed. Time to face my fear. 

Am I strong enough? I don't know. Do I really have time to keep it up? Maybe. Maybe not. But until I run out of thoughts, I can no longer sit on the sidelines holding it all in. 

However, my initial reentry into the blogosphere will be in the form of book reviews. Because I am unable to shut off my mind I tend to find material that fuels the fire and gets me thinking even more. I applied to Speakeasy from a Richard Rohr email. They send me books to read and review. And that is what I will do.

So that is my new beginning. 

My safe route. 

And eventually the dam may break and the floodwaters of all my thoughts and opinions will freely flow. But for now a drip at a time. 

It feels good to release-if only just this much.

My first book to review is called: Jesus, Bread and Chocolate by John J. Thompson- "Crafting a hand made faith in a mass market world." 

Stay tuned....