Leaders and Followers

Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to drop off the face of the earth.

I ran across this statement recently…

“I think we can agree that there are at least two categories within the NT church according to Paul—leaders and followers.”

Hmmm. I would agree that there are leaders and followers, but I don’t believe there are two categories and each person falls in one category or the other. In the church, we sometimes lead and sometimes follow, and we often lead and follow.

Here’s a bit of dialogue from a recent TV show where a male gay couple were learning to tango…

“So which one of you wants to be the man?”

“I will.”

“Wait, why do you get to be the man?”

“I don’t know, let’s both be the man.”

“Clearly you are both suited to be the man, but in tango, it won’t work unless one person leads and the other person follows.”

“So?”

“It would be a very bad mistake to think that a woman is less than a man, in a dance or in life. Man and woman play their parts, but it’s equal.”

“Okay boys make up you mind.”

“Come on, Kevin, just be the girl.”

“Oh my god, you can’t do it!”

“If it’s so equal, why don’t you do it!”

“It’s not about being the girl, it’s about following, isn’t it?”

Interesting that in spite of understanding the importance and equality of each part, the dilemma is always about who will lead.

Obviously church isn’t the tango, or is it?

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.

Frankly, My Dear…

Well, you know the rest . . .

And I mean it in the nicest way.

Confession:

I – having blogged with idealistic fervor for over four years – really don’t care how you do church. I don’t want to be one of the voices implying that there is one ultimately true and correct way to be the church together.

From one end of the spectrum to the other,

-small to big,
-informal to formal,
-spontaneous to liturgical,
-house to cathedral,
-traditional to missional,
-you know I could go on and on,

wherever you fit in,

I hope that you find Life in your relationships and gathering.

Home is Where Your Heart is Safe

I recently spent a few days with my parents, a rare few days that were just me and them in the home where I grew up.  I can’t even remember when that last happened.  It seems that for so many decades my visits to them involved packing everyone and all of their stuff into the van for a road trip.  This time, it was just me and my overnight bag.

Supposedly I was there to help, but instead it seemed like I landed briefly in a protected haven of simplicity and acceptance.  It was good for my soul.

A few glimpses of what going home was like…

• A cheery good morning hug from mom as I stumbled into the kitchen looking for coffee.
• Starting the day with the daily sudoku and crossword.  Dad made a copy for each of us from the paper.
• Apple crisp.
• Devotions from Our Daily Bread after dinner.
• Washing the plastic bread bags and aluminum foil when doing dishes.
• Playing board games in the evening.

They say you can’t go back, but once in awhile it sure is nice to visit.

The Not Quite Happy Ending

A simple revelation is what I needed and what it took to begin breaking the ice around this issue in my heart.

I couldn’t really connect the sense of abandonment to a particular instance in my life.   However, while praying one day, I saw an image of myself as a young child being dropped off at an event for the day. The event doesn’t matter really, what I remember is the feeling of a shy child being left alone at something – a birthday party, a relative’s house, a new school situation, or some children’s event.

“I don’t want to be dropped off.”

“I don’t want to do this alone.”

“I don’t want to be a big girl.”

“I can’t do this.”

Decades later, the scared little girl inside was still trying to deal with the big issues of life and mostly feeling alone and afraid.  This totally fit my picture of a God who had dropped me off, left me to deal with things on my own, and would eventually make everything better when He came to pick me up at the end.

Maybe a week later, while praying this image came back to mind, and I felt like God said, “I want you to know Me as the God who is right there with you.”  In the moment, this felt like both a promise and an assignment.

I often think of joining God in what He is doing, trying to see the world with His eyes, and listening for the Spirit about situations I encounter.  But this time, I felt like God was saying, “No, you’re not joining me.  I am joining you.  Where you go, I am going too.  Not just the good places, but the hard places, the scary places, even the bad places.  I am going along.”

And it felt overwhelmingly relieving to realize that God has been there in the middle of all my “I can’t do this” moments and that He would teach me how to know Him in those moments.

One thing I have learned is that when I quit expecting God to be with me, I quit seeing Him. By focusing on the things I don’t have, I refused to see all that I am invited to be a part of, all that is already mine, and to join the invitation to His presence.

The big and sometimes scary circumstances in my life haven’t suddenly resolved themselves.  However, instead of gritting my teeth, I am focusing on seeing and trusting God to be with me.

I appreciate the stories and encouragement that you have shared with me.  Much of what you said adds to what God is teaching me through all of this.  I hope that sharing this is an encouragement to someone else too.  Most of us don’t really need more information, we just need God to continue revealing Himself to us in ways that will personally transform us in the ways that we need Him most.

The Heart of the Matter

This is all kind of hard to describe, and I am a little concerned about painting a wrong picture.  However, I will do my best to explain and hope that is adequate.  I don’t want to either exaggerate or minimize the problem.

I want to emphasize that I really am at peace in the Father’s love and acceptance.  There is nothing in me that believes that I must strive or perform for His approval or blessing.  Maybe that is the point.  As my understanding of Him has become more beautiful, my lack of trust becomes more incongruent with what I know to be true.

I no longer accept pat answers and formulas about faith and prayer.  I do not think God needs me to exaggerate or reframe the facts to protect His image.  The only thing I know to do in the face of unanswered prayer is to simply keep asking, knowing that intervention was never dependent on me.  So, I haven’t quit asking, but I see that miraculous responses seem to be a rare exception.  Perhaps the biggest change is that I gave up any illusion that I can somehow elicit the miraculous response.

The past year has been really difficult for me.  Nothing in comparison to what others suffer, but there have been days I wondered if I could stand the pressure.   I became more sarcastic and cynical (I know, shocking) which made it somewhat obvious that I was basically angry.  The anger was rooted in the fact that I was overwhelmingly disappointed and frustrated.  So much of my life seemed beyond my control, and there seemed to be nothing I could do to avoid the pain or change the circumstances.

The whisper of the enemy that I struggle with the most is, “You are on your own.”  This plays itself out in many different ways in my life.  In this case, when things get difficult, I grit my teeth and try to buck up.  Aside from prayers thrown up for a change of circumstance, I have not leaned into God’s love or care because while my head knows that He is always with me, my heart believed that I was on my own.

That’s enough for today, and I will write one more post explaining how I am dealing with my unbelieving heart.

I’ll end with this quote from Richard Rohr:

I will offer you a simple litmus test to determine whether a person has healthy or unhealthy religion. What do they do with their pain—even their daily little disappointments? Do they transform their pain or do they transmit it?

We all have pain—it’s the human situation, we all carry it in a big black bag behind us and it gets heavier as we get older: by betrayals, rejections, disappointments, and wounds that are inflicted along the way. If we do not find some way to transform our pain, I can tell you with 100% certitude we will transmit it to those around us.

At the end of life, and probably early in life, too, the question is, “What do I do with this disappointment, with this absurdity, with this sadness?”