#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....