Noise in the Void

Tag: Church

  • All is Relevant, None is True

    The final hours of 2011 are ticking away.  And my thoughts in these waning hours, as is often the case, revolve around faith.

    I guess the title of this entry pretty well sums up my recent train of thought.  I have been pondering the words of John Lennon in the song Imagine and reading some works of Joseph Campbell.  What if none of what I was brought up to believe is true, but that all of it is relevant?  Perhaps I have been focusing too much on the how and not enough on the why.

    I do not, as yet, have a coherent conclusion.  But my mind is on alight.

  • Moo Year

    Let me say up front, that I do not make New Year’s resolutions.  I think trying to change your behavior because of an arbitrary date is doomed to failure.  Making little changes over time that is eminently doable.  So in no particular order, here are some things I would like to improve upon (that is a lie…the order is pretty specific).

    Poundage: Let’s get the cliché out of the way.  I need to lose 20lbs (100 would be nice…baby steps).

    DeSlugify:  Yeah, OK I need to walk around a bit (running would result in too much jiggling for me or anyone watching).

    More Jekyll less Hyde:  Smiles everyone smiles (da plane…da plane)!

    Reinvent Faith:  Here is the nutmeat of my entry, written in the form of a Christmas Carol.

    Ghost of Religion past…I was a true believer.  Though I would never have embraced the label of fundamentalist, it would not have been entirely inaccurate to categorize me as such.  I believed in the integrity if not inerrancy of scripture.  By that I mean, I did not believe every word of the Bible as literally written; nor did I embrace all of its books (Joshua…oh, Joshua).  But on the whole, I believed the entire thing.  I saw one cohesive narrative that I believed to be true.

    Though I no longer embraced the doctrine of the Assemblies of God (the Pentecostal denomination of my childhood), I enthusiastically embraced Methodist doctrine and its core beliefs as put forth in the book of discipline.  I had a very intense spiritual encounter in which I felt called into the ministry (three day retreat where I could not stop crying).  I had completed the first phase of exploration and was on the brink of starting seminary (I was a year into the “official” process).

    Ghost of Religion Present…Two events of the past decade have caused me to question everything and to distance myself from church and faith.  First, circumstances changed my “relationship” with Jesus/God.  I became unable or unwilling to pursue my calling.  Because of family medical issues, I was left with two rather unattractive options.  Option A: admit that my “calling” was not authentic and continuing working at a job I hate so that my family could afford medical care and food/shelter.  Option B: take consequences be damned approach to pursing my calling.  Go to seminary, quit my job and take a job at a church that would pay no more than 30K with less than adequate health insurance.  Additionally, trust that Jesus/God will provide.  Because of the specific nature of my calling, choosing option A would gradually erode my faith.  Option B might work out, but I would be gambling/trusting the wellbeing of not only myself, but my wife and infant son on my faith.  I chose option A.  And it has been a 10 year slide into faith oblivion.

    The second event was the suicide of my Emmaus sponsor, the retreat where I felt God’s calling to become a full time pastor.  Long story…but this was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

    Ghost of Religion Future…I know where this road leads.  And no, I do not mean hell (well not specifically anyway).  I am already paying the price for my semi-apostasy.  I no longer belong to a community of faith, my marriage has been strained, I feel increasingly alienated from my family and my son appears to be ambivalent about God.

    I am realistic.  No hymn, scripture, book, sermon or religious experience is going to suddenly zap me back into the person I was.  I have done too much critical thinking to ever return to the faith observed by the ghost of religion past.

    But I am unwilling to throw out spirituality altogether.  Whether or not faith represents any objective method for measuring the nature of reality, it is a comfort.  It does build community.  It does give meaning to existence.  It does break the myopic focus on self.

    So in the upcoming year, I want to get over my aversion to religion and try to build a new theology that is consistent with where I find myself in life.

    And if I could do that while losing 20lbs, so much the better!

  • Dressing for Success

    My mother taught me a lesson that has become part of the core of who I am.  It was a very short anecdote from the church she grew up in.

    Every Easter at Glad Tidings Assembly of God, the pastor’s wife wore and old and often out of style dress.  Why?  She did not want any visitors to feel bad; if they could not afford a new Easter outfit.

    I can no longer picture Sister Bernadice Glendenning in my head.  She passed away when I was about 10.  But in my mind she is one of the most beautiful women I have ever met.

  • Bizarro Christmas

    This should be a pretty short entry.  I am just checking in to say, “Merry Christmas.”

    This Christmas is bizarre to say the very least.  Why?  My faith is on the rocks.  I have no family coming or going to share the holiday.  Work is intense.  My wife has to work ‘round the clock.  And yet, I am happy and content.

    I am starting to seriously wonder if I am bipolar.  I am energetic, I am in a great mood and I keep singing unconsciously.

    I am not going to overanalyze.  Ho, ho, ho…out.

  • I Can Do All Things (Phil four thirteen)

    Go to church long enough and the same topics and scriptures are repeated.  If they use the lectionary it is roughly every three years or so.  At most churches it is somewhere between 3 and 5 years…except around Christmas and Easter, they are repeated annually.  Rarely do you hear a good sermon about Jael driving a tent stake through her enemy’s skull.  Pity…it would make a terrific children’s musical.  <Tongue firmly in cheek>

    So regardless of whether or not you care for a particular passage of scripture, if it is “popular,” you will hear it over and over again.

    So yesterday my number was up.  The scripture was one of my former favorites.  I memorized it back when I was in Bible Quiz.  “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.”

    <side note:  I checked my spelling of strengtheneth…it was right.  I have a King James brain.  Actually looking at chapter 4, I used to have the whole thing memorized.  But my brain jelly is not what it used to be.>

    So, back to my story…Phil 4.  This was my all time favorite scriptures.  It was my motivational mantra.  Any unpleasant tasks, conversations, interviews, public speaking, you name it; this scripture got me through it.  I would repeat it over and over as a chant.  It got me through many binds.  It was pure force of will with JC backing me up.

    But now I associate this scripture with my fall from grace.  It was the day of Ethan’s birth.  We had just gotten the news about his imperforated anus and his right leg was shriveled like a flipper.  He was rushed off to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU).  Jenn had to go back to her room because she was still paralyzed from the epidural.  She was beside herself, but she wanted me to check on our baby.

    I was escorted back to where his incubator was.  They told me I could touch him through vent holes.  I took a deep breath.  “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me!”  At first I just patted his back and head.  Then I gathered all of my strength and will.  I firmly clutched his right foot.  I visualized a constant current of lightning surging through my body.  This boy was going to be healed.  He was going to be whole.  I focused all my power on this simple prayer for healing.  “I CAN DO ALL THINGS THROUGH CHRIST WHICH STRENGTHENETH ME!!!”  “In the name of Jesus be healed.”  I lost all track of time.  I was here.  It was now.  I have heard about miraculous healing all of my life.  This was MY time.  This was the place.  I was going to spend the rest of my life telling others of the miracle that Jesus had performed that day.  IT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.

    …but nothing happened.  Except Ethan’s leg got kind of sweaty.

    I have failed.  I lacked the faith.  But how could that be???  I did have the faith!  I did damn it!!!

    I felt myself sink into a deep hole from which I have never fully emerged.  Paul could do all things…Ben could not.

    I miss that Ben.  I want absolute assurance.  I want to know that the power of God courses through my body.  But if I may mix the metaphor…like Icarus, I crashed back to earth.

    Thud

  • Thought Crimes

    I went to a small Bible College with an enrollment of roughly 500.  It was a conservative college right smack in the middle of Santa Cruz County.  To say that our neighbors did not share our world view would be a gross understatement.  We used to joke about ourselves saying that we lived in the Bethany Bubble.  We had a very rigid view of reality.  Esoteric debates on theological subtleties were allowed.  But if you ever challenged a tenant of faith, you would quickly become a pariah.  I had many friends who where chewed up and spit out for nothing more than expressing what I would call “thought crime.” (Ala 1984)

    Here are a couple of thought crimes:  The Bible might have errors or inconsistencies.  Gay people can be Christians (or that they might have any destination in the afterlife other than Hell).  Other religions have validity.  The earth is more than 5000 years old.  Social drinking is acceptable.

    Now when I lived in the bubble, I took great pleasure dancing on the razors edge of “thought crime.”  I never would directly challenge orthodoxy.  But I loved asking questions that would make people uncomfortable.  Challenging people was all in good fun until I was no longer in the bubble.  Then it went from friendly joisting to open conflict.  I was not challenging the status quo; I was totally outside of the framework.

    Fast forward 20 years.  I no longer live in the bubble.  But my kid sister-in-law (SIL), she is right smack in the middle of it.

    There was a bit of an awkward moment during Thanksgiving.  We were watching Voyager with Ethan and the episode was about a race of dinosaurs that had evolved from earth and moved to another planet when the big asteroid hit.  I did not give it a second thought.  It was science fiction, a story.  But I became clear about 1/3 of the way through that my SIL expected us to explain to Ethan that evolution was not true.

    Unfortunately for her, I do believe in evolution and we were just watching a TV show.  Do I think a race of dinosaurs left earth before the asteroid to pursue adventure in outer space? …No, neither did I think it required any explanation.

    But I know exactly what she must have been feeling.  This TV show was casually spewing heresy into our living room.  Surely something needs to be said.  <Crickets chirp>

    I kind of felt bad for my SIL.  I did not want to rattle her cage bubble.  I would not wish a loss of faith on anyone.

  • Letting the Days Go By, Let the Water Hold Me Down

    My faith is a faint shadow of what was once substantial.  I continue to attend church, though I am not certain why.

    That being said, I was moved to tears today in church.  Why?  I am not sure exactly.  But I think it has something to do with connectedness.  Biologically, we are unique individuals.  Yet throughout the world, people sense that there is a connection.

    Is there a connection?  I have my doubts.  But when I see a child baptized into the church, something shakes my core.

    You and I, we are of the same stuff.

  • Liturgical Spin Cycle

    Growing up Pentecostal, the faith was focused on experience. Emotional ecstasy was the goal of worship.

    About my junior year of college (at a Pentecostal school), a friend of mine invited me to go to church with him.  I was a drama geek at the time and he was the cool rogue guy who was part of the inside group.  I think it was a bit of a b-romance.  I wanted to be like the cool guy.

    Anyway he invited me to church.  Most Sundays, I attended Bedside Assembly of God with Brother Blanket and Sister Sheets.  But because I wanted to hang with my friend, I went along.  He drove me to the local movie theater, the meeting place of Light of Life Lutheran Church.  It was my first exposure to a liturgical worship.  I loved it.  There is something very comforting about praying prayers that people long since dead prayed during their lifetime.  It created such a strong sense of community and once I learned the formula, I was on the hooked.

    I attended that church until my graduation from college.  When I started working for my alma mater, it was frowned upon if staff did not attend an Assemblies of God (AG) church.  So I did.  For the next three years I grinned and bared it until I got another job.  I was working at another AG school in Seattle, but one of my friends went to the local Episcopal Church.  I visited it and loved it even more.

    When I met my wife, I went back to the AG.  Boring…but I loved her, so I went.  We briefly had a stint in the Baptist Church…not my favorite.

    Then quite by accident when we moved to Northern Virginia, I attended a Methodist Church.  At the time, it was a very traditional church.  Not quite as liturgical as the Lutherans or Episcopal, but definitely not AG or Baptist.  There were smells and bells and I was happy as a clam.

    Sadly, over time, the church became contemporary.  Sigh…Oh well.  It was about this time that I felt called into the ministry.  I prayed for an hour a day.  ½ hour of The Daily Office (Episcopal prayer book), 15 minutes of open dialogue prayer and even 15 minutes of “The Protestant Rosary,” something I found on the internet.

    The whole “calling” thing did not work out.  I stopped practicing spiritual discipline.  Eventually, I turned my back on God and faith altogether.

    But time has softened me and I am again trying to have a faith dimension to my life.  Prayer has been a struggle, mostly because I got so good at faking it.  I tend to focus on eloquence not content.  But a couple of weeks ago, I found a Kindle version of the Book of Common Prayer.  It automatically drops in all the right scriptures and collects so I do not have to flip pages.  Kindle comes with a voice reader.  It makes it seem that I am not praying along.  I sometimes just listen to the Kindle read the minister parts and I join in the response.

    Why do I do this?  I think it is because I have serious doubts about the purpose of prayer.  When I prattle on with my own prayers, it seems empty and lonely.  When I pray the Daily Office, I feel connected.  I am a part of something bigger than myself.  I am sharing with generations of other people who are long since dead.  I am part of the whole.

    I still go to a contemporary church with myth wife.  Every once in a while they will throw me a bone in the form of a responsive reading.  But my heart belongs to the centuries old prayers of others.  It may be vain babbling, but it works for me.