The picture included in this blog reminds me of my past. When I saw it I was struck that I actually knew someone that should take heed of the sign’s message. (WARNING: This blog may not be for the faint of heart. I won’t be using any names or naming locations, but if you are a personal friend, you might recognize some of the things/people I will be referencing. Feel free to click off now. You won’t hurt my feelings. I understand that talking about religion is sometimes a touchy subject or even uncomfortable. But at the same time, I began this blogging journey as a way and a place for me to share my thoughts and experiences.)
As mentioned in an earlier blog, I am in the midst of reading a book by Jake Colsen “So You Don’t Want to Go to Church Anymore”. The reason I don’t want to go is because of the big honking scabs left by the wounds of my previous Church experience. (Note: the capitalization of Church is used to reference a particular building without naming it) Now, let me say that after much soul searching I realize I created many of these wounds by my own actions. It all really started when I began to think that I mattered in Church. Trust me, when you leave a church and no one sincerely reaches out to you, the realization that you did not matter is quick to sink in. A dear friend used this analogy with Hubby and it rings so true: put your fist in a bucket of water. Now take it out. The time it takes for the water to fill the space where your fist was is how long you matter to those left behind. The upside to this experience is our Friends who supported us and held our hands and loved us through this entire process. And it is a process. In fact during our last visit with our Friends, I made the statement that one day we would be able to have dinner and coffee and NOT have to decompress our shared experiences about Church. It wouldn’t be the THING that entered every conversation. And later through tears, I acknowledged for the first time, out loud, my guilt over my sin in thinking that I mattered. It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t easy, but it needed to be done. (Sidenote: while in Church, I loved the people I worked with. These people loved the Lord and served Him willingly and I had some life experiences that would have never happened were it not for my time spent there. But at the end of this journey, I realized that for me it had become more about ‘look at me and all the work I am doing’ and less about the selflessness of serving God) With that journey complete, I feel free to take my time and experience this new journey.
I do not need to be “Beat Up for Jesus” which is what my previous experience came down to. The constant mandates from the pulpit of the Church to pray harder, do more, give more, it can never be enough, you must sacrifice friendships, family time and any pleasure in order to be pleasing to God is so ridiculous. And as we knew that our time in Church was coming to an end we began to watch and listen. Very carefully. It was shocking. The idea that the Church was open to everyone was false advertising. There were those that belonged and those that didn’t. Those that told the truth and those that didn’t. And before you start pounding the keyboard to remind me about throwing stones and judge not lest ye be judged, I was there. I was in the trenches and I know truth from fiction. When being honest was no longer sacred, when it became negotiable for a means to an end, when people could stand up and choose political correctness over the truth, however uncomfortable it might have been to speak it, I walked out never to step foot in Church again. There are so many other things I could point to in hindsight but it is not warranted here. When we reflect on the entirety of what we saw and heard going on around us it is no wonder Christians have a bad rap.
Fundamentalism is not for me. Living Loved is for me. That phrase is such a sweet sound in my ear and I am forever grateful to the friends that introduced the concept into my life. Jesus loves me. He loves me when I am teaching in my classroom. He loves me when I am sitting with Hubby on the couch watching NCIS marathons. He loves me when I am doing laundry. He loves me on Sunday morning when I watch Boy go to Youth service and I stay home to read, rest, relax. Just because I am not in a pew on Sunday morning does not mean that He does not love me. Right now the most pressing concern of not having a church “home” is where they would have the meal after my funeral if I died. So I am thinking if that is the only scenario giving me pause about not “being in church”, then I am OK. (Suggestion, have it at Mom’s church. It is where I first started attending church, at birth, and would be a fitting book end to my life. I will lay out all the other plans for my funeral in another blog, but in case I don’t have the chance to write it, the plans are in a spiral in my Bible. And thank you in advance for attending, or singing, or speaking, whichever I have lined you up to be responsible for. And eat a lot and laugh a lot and display tons of pictures of me. Ok, I digress)
Living Loved. What a concept. Why did it take so long for me to get to this point? To quote an excerpt from an article on this topic, “You are simply transitioning from religious obligation to a relational reality.” Now, before you read on, please understand that I am NOT trying to convert you to my way of thinking. I am simply sharing my thoughts. I am not judging you or trying to convince you that my way is better. It’s not about that at all. The ground work for me being able to leave the striving behind is from my wonderful opportunity to form relationships with people from many different backgrounds/religions at Camp CommUNITY. It has allowed me to grow, accept, not judge people who do not worship as I do. The fact that they are Jewish/Baha’i/Buddhist/Catholic/Methodist/and on and on does not mean they are “wrong”. Putting right and wrong in the matter of faith no longer sits well with me. I would never attempt to try and “convert “my Buddhist friend from her belief system to mine. (And by the way, a Buddhist wedding ceremony is one of the most beautiful things I have witnessed on this earth.) Let me go back to what I stated earlier. It’s about relationship for me now. No hoop jumping, no judgment, no beating me up for Jesus. It’s about love. I choose love. I will always choose love. And since I am not revoking my Christianity, just transitioning my thoughts about my daily experiences and walk with Christ, I’ll use a standard Christian Sunday School song to sum it up… Jesus loves the little children. Did you catch the most important word in that song? LOVES… it says it all.
Instead of plagiarizing an entire article, I am providing a link that was generously shared with me by my Friend and I would encourage you to check it out. And most importantly, live loved. http://www.lifestream.org/bodylife.php?blid=59
I have struggled through the same things. The way it was said at our church is that if you get out of your own way, someone else may step up and do all those things you do. Yeah, not really. It just means it isn't getting done. But that isn't my problem. If I can't give and be where my spiritual gifts lie, then I don't need to be there. And in the stepping back we have beeen ostracized by several people. Way to love, people, way to love. I could go on and on, but the purpose of comments isn't to blog myself. I've already done it.
ReplyDeleteIt's a beautiful thing to be loved by Jesus and to love Him. To serve Him, to live with Him in my heart and my life is so much better than ever going to Church.