Just Call Me

About 6 months ago I was invited by a friend to attend a theology discussion group at a local Lutheran church. It isn’t the type of group or meeting that I would typically attend. In fact, I feel very much like a fish out of water. The positive thing about the group is that it is intellectually stimulating and the discussion is intense and vibrant.

I continue to attend because it has been challenging for me. It is challenging to be the outsider in an established group and to be reminded of what that feels like. It is challenging to be regularly exposed to a different perspective that I don’t intend to adopt. It is challenging to attempt to articulate my views and to determine when it is appropriate to present a different point of view in that context.

Theologically, the group is very Lutheran (not that there’s anything wrong with that), big on total depravity, election, and man’s inability to know or choose good or God. I know the basics of their doctrine, and while I don’t agree, I tend not to argue these points with them.

However, there are moments that I am in disbelief. For example, after the shooting of the abortion doctor, I was shocked to find that I was the only person in the room who didn’t believe that the shooting was the “christian” thing to do. We are currently discussing Bonhoeffer’s Cost of Discipleship, so the discussions about pacifism have been interesting.

Last week, while discussing the meaning of church, the leader of the group explained that as a Lutheran, he could not fellowship with non-Lutherans, although he could associate with them. Whatever.

They are trying to decide the next book for discussion, and I recommended On the Incarnation by Athanasius. But now I am a little worried that they will pick it. I’m not sure that I want to watch it be picked apart and labeled unorthodox. I know that I’m probably not up to the task of defending it.

Anyway, last night there were only a few of us there, and I was questioned about my beliefs.

“So are you a universalist?”

“Well, I lean that way, but I think God is probably more of a universalist than I am.”

“And are you a pacifist?”

“Well, I lean that way too.”

“Where does your church stand on pacifism?”

“I don’t have a church.”

Dead silence. I think I’ll wear the t-shirt next week.

One of the guys did ask me to recommend a book about Christian pacifism though. I was thinking about The Politics of Jesus (Yoder) or maybe something by Greg Boyd.
Any suggestions?

De-Churched and De-ICed II

I started blogging with a rule to myself to never apologize for a post, but maybe the previous post deserves an apology, if nothing else, for the fact that it was poorly written and confusing.

I probably shouldn’t care what people say about de-churched people. Heck I’m not even sure if I am one. But I might be. It probably depends on who you ask and where you set the requirements. Even while attending church, I have always identified with the de-churched.

As long as you believe that the de-churched are idealist church shoppers who are too wounded and independent to get involved with you because they only like their buddies, you can just write them off. I mean really, why else wouldn’t they want to be a part of your deal?

The bounded set-centered set example is sometimes used as a way to view people’s spiritual journey and salvation without the traditional hard lines of deciding who is in and who is out. That’s kind of how I feel about church. If you have a bounded-set church definition, I probably fall outside your lines. Whatever you have decided qualifies as “real church” probably disqualifies me.

With a centered-set definition of church, believers are in the process of finding where they fit in the body and the people that they are to be connected to at this moment in time. A centered-set definition of church encourages relationships across congregational lines, it encourages relationships with not-yet believers, and it allows for a fluidity of relationship that is resilient to changes in life and circumstances.

A centered-set view of church is more concerned that people find the relationships that they should be connected with at this time than it is with making sure that they are on the membership roll of an organization. It’s less about commitment or lack of commitment to a specific group and more about unity and devotion to people.

Just as I believe the Spirit is always at work drawing people to Jesus, I also trust that He is at work connecting people in the Body. Because of that, I don’t want to assume what that is supposed to look like for someone else. Even if they might be in a phase of missing it, I want to encourage them that God will hook them up where He wants them to be.

Hopefully this isn’t confusing too. :)

HT to Bill for the term De-ICed, love it!

De-Churched and De-ICed

Just looking for a label, I think I’ve found it. The Ultimate Consumer – beyond church shopping, one of those people who can never be satisfied…

• who cut their teeth on consumer church and ended up so self-centered that they won’t attend Sunday morning services.
• who must believe that there is a perfect church out there somewhere filled with perfect people. We can just assume that’s what they’re looking for.
• who got wounded somewhere along the way and never get over themselves. We can just assume they are bitter and stuck where they were years ago.
• who are too independent to learn from anyone else, have all the answers, and don’t want to be told what to do. We can just assume they are close minded, critical, and against structured church.
• who don’t get along well with others except a few buddies. We can just assume they only like people like themselves and don’t want to be around people who are difficult to love, otherwise they would be in church with us.
• who really missed it because they aren’t doing church our way.

Yeah, sliced, diced, and de-iced . . . we can just assume.

My Midlife Crisis

Maybe I should have bought a convertible, but instead, I’m taking a couple of college classes. That sounds simple enough, doesn’t it? Not so much. Either college is harder than when I previously attended, or my brain is foggy.

Yesterday a friend was asking about one of my classes. I said, “We’re currently talking about Maslov’s hierarchy of needs.”

Then I corrected, “No, it’s Maslow, isn’t it? Maslov is the dog guy.”

She laughed and said, “No, the dog guy is Pavlov.”

So, that’s kind of how it is, a mess of mixed-up facts and random connections.

Anyway, I’ve been thinking about some things that are different this time around.

1. Reading glasses.
2. Instead of turning up the stereo while I study, I put in earplugs so I can think and keep the squirrels away.
   (To my family, the orange plugs in my ears might be a clue that I’m not listening to you.)
3. Instead of staying out late, I now usually fall asleep trying to read.
4. Being “hot” doesn’t mean what it used to.
5. I’m not looking for a boyfriend.
6. Most of my roommates now call me Mom.
7. I haven’t been carded in over a decade.
8. Young students comment about my “life experience.”
9. I’m older than my advisor and some of my teachers.
10. Instead of learning COBOL, FORTRAN, and BASIC computer code and picking up my printout at another building on campus, I’m blogging from my kitchen about going to college.

Went With the Wind

I know the rest of blog world is busy with really important people saying really important things today, but…

For those of you old enough to remember, this little trip down memory lane is fun.

For those of you too young to remember, this is a classic example of what was good about life in the 70′s. I remember seeing this when it originally aired in 1976.