Category Grace

Letting Go

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     A woman I’ve never met except through a private FB page I’ve belonged to since May passed away today.  The group, a safe haven for Christian moms of LGBT identifying children, is populated with women from across the country and even a few from the other side of the globe.  I did not know Jeannie Moran Androsoff personally.  In fact, except to read a few of her posts I know almost nothing about her other than she started a website called ifoundoutmom.com. From the posts in the private group I know Jeannie was a pretty spectacular woman who loved her son fiercely.  I also know her website was launched shortly after finding out the cancer, which ultimately took her earthly life this morning (10/13), had returned.

The reason I mention Jeannie at all is because reading the posts to and about her over the past couple days, and reflecting on her impact on the private FB group I happen to be a part of, made me realize just how disconnected I have been most of my life.  While many in this private group were once part of what they would describe as tightly knit, caring church families, I have never in my life felt like part of an inner circle.  At best I’ve been a distant relative, a second cousin once removed sort of status, especially with regard to church families.  At times, as I read about someone’s frustration with or hurt at the hands of a once upon a time “family” member over issues connected to their LGBT children, I find myself wanting to shout, “Get over it!  Let go and move on for goodness sake.”  You see, I have never had to let go of someone who held that kind of emotional weight in my life.  So, I guess it’s been fairly easy for me to have a “Get over it!” attitude.

As much as I want–intellectually–for those in the Church and those in places of power to desire truth, treat the other with respect, and be willing to work for justice, I honestly don’t care how people feel about me or if I get an invitation to Sunday dinner.  I don’t need “likes”, although I do like conversation.  Mostly, I don’t have time for arguments that don’t work toward solutions to problems, build a framework for cooperation, or  lay the groundwork for better understanding.  Having the same fruitless discussions with the same people on a slightly different thread is a waste.  I never did it much and I simply don’t want to do it any more.  So, I apologize for my rather detached empathy for those of you who continue to struggle with family, friends, and associates over issues that get in the way of the relationships you long to have.  If the shout outs and remembrances for Jeannie are any indicator of what comes from never letting go, I believe your efforts are worth while.  That said, the difference between helping someone wake from their slumber and banging one’s head against the wall can sometimes feel like a very thin line.  My best prayer is that we’re able to discern the difference before we give ourselves concussions.

Life with a Dead Jesus

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So I spent Easter working, playing bridge with my two oldest sons and husband, watching/listening to the girls hunt the eggs their brother hid, enjoying a beer on the back porch with my husband, snuggling with my youngest, and sleeping.  I didn’t go to a building for worship though I would like to have seen the life-size paper mache donkey my daughter made for children’s church in action. Nor, did I make a big Easter meal and invite the whole family to dinner.  Does my lack of formally celebrating the holiday make me a heretic or anti-social?  Am I sliding down the slippery slop to complete debauchery, destruction, and uncouthness?  I rather doubt it.  And yet, it isn’t an unreasonable question given the social-religious constructs of my not so distant past.

About a week before Easter (maybe two) my youngest who is eight asked if she could get baptized.  After talking to her about it–basically asking her why she wanted to be baptized and listening to her answer, I decided to not give her a yes or a no and simply wait to see if she brought it up again.  In other words, I wanted to see how strongly the idea was pressing on her spirit. I did not find out until today that a woman from the fellowship my daughter’s still go to but I walked away from six years ago asked my oldest daughter for my husband’s phone number so she could ask for our permission to baptize our youngest the Sunday after Easter.  She never called.

A couple days after Easter I started seeing (via FB) Easter Sunday service reviews, praises, laments, and confessions. The most poignant were from some of the ladies in a new group I’ve joined.  All of these ladies are Christians (or at least strongly identified as Christians at one time in their lives) and all of them have at least one child who identifies as part of the LGBTQ community.  Since I was the first in my family to leave the building I have not faced the shunning, pitying, advice giving “brothers” and “sisters” some of the women in this group have faced and I’m thankful for that.  Still, I could hear in their posts mostly about their isolation within their fellowships a deep hurt and profound sadness.

Last Thursday I was sitting in the Hastings coffee shop working on my laptop and listening in on the conversation between two women at the table next to mine.  They were going through a Bible study that involved Paul’s thoughts on prayer.  I so wanted to butt in and ask if they were familiar with the verse in 1 Thessalonians that tells us to “pray continually”. And if they were, I wanted to know what they thought about it.  I wanted to say to them, “our prayers are like breathing, every word that comes out of our mouth, every thought that comes into our heads is part of a conversation with God.”  Instead I finished my work and found myself thinking about them and praying in tongues under my breath as I left.

Seeing those posts, listening to my husband’s recent thoughts about organized religion, over hearing the ladies’ thoughts about prayer, and having my daughter ask about baptism has caused me to check in with myself.  Do I practice prayer the way I wanted to talk to those women about it?  Why wasn’t I excited about my daughter saying she wanted to be baptized?  What comfort is there for women who have been shunned by their Church families or for their children who have endured worse?  What is the point of Easter when the Church leaves Christ’s teachings about compassion and mercy and new life in the tomb?

I find it more and more difficult the farther away from the building I get to extend an attitude of grace toward those parts of the Body who see their role in the kingdom as the gatekeepers–not only deeming all theology that doesn’t line up with their particular reading of scripture as wrong but also passing judgment (as in turn or burn) on the salvation status of various groups of people.  I practice what I preach to them by never suggesting their theology will land them in hell.  At the same time, I no longer hesitate to disagree with them in public or write my own blog posts asserting their theology is out of whack when it come to representing a loving God.  In his post, Gay Marriage and the Posture of the Gospel, Thad Norvell at  Home Anywhere puts it like this–

No matter how correct your position, if your posture toward a world you believe to be “still sinners” is anything other than a love that stubbornly refuses to condemn, but instead gives itself away to point to Jesus giving himself away, you are on your own. You are not standing on the truth of the scriptures or the shoulders of Jesus. Right position without the posture of God revealed in Jesus is not the Gospel. (emphasis mine)

Honestly, can anyone seriously claim they’ve felt loved when their siblings were screaming at them, calling them ugly names, or saying someone else hated them?  We know what love looks like and feels like. Screaming and yelling and condemnation ain’t it. We know what brings life to a person. And, we know what brings discouragement, heartache, and condemnation.  For the first time in 55 years of celebrating Easter I was struck by the parallel scenes of the Pharisees ripping their cloths declaring blasphemy during Christ’s “trial” and the temple curtain being rip from top to bottom upon His death. Indeed we would not have a resurrection without His death.  Yet, looking at these parallel images this year for the first time I understood that Christ’s death was a blasphemy–a lie about God. Death could not hold Him.  How many of you, raised in the Church, have sung hymns to that effect.  So why are we holding on to the grave?

Far too many Christ-ians still live, and worse demand others live, in the gap between Good Friday and Easter morning–with a dead Jesus and a God whose judgment is yet to be administered.  But I have good news. The gates of hell and the grave have burst open!  Jesus is alive!  Judgment has been rendered and the Judge refused to cast the first stone.  We have now been given the power and must decide:  What do we do with the rocks in our hands?

 

The Nature of Man; the Image of God

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Recently I came across a FB post that ended with this sentence: “Life without God is like an unsharpened pencil–it has no point”.  What I took the author to be saying is that mankind needs a relationship with God or life has no purpose.  But, as soon as I read that line something weird happened.  A drop of wisdom burst into my brain.  Suddenly, I understood that the presence of God is inescapable.  We are in relationship with God whether we see it or not since nothing exists apart from God.  Nothing.  Not good.  Not evil.

As I ruminated on that thought another one wiggled its way to the front of this line of thinking–Humanity was made in His image.  I realize I have not just now spoken revelation to those who call themselves Christians but I’d like to connect these two thoughts to my recent post on Our True Nature which pushes against the boundaries of the traditional fall of man doctrine.  We know from Genesis 1:27 that God made man (male and female) in His image.  We also can discern from the continuation of the story in Genesis 2:25  that prior to eating from the Tree of Knowledge Adam and Eve did not understand that their nakedness had the potential to cause shame.  Only after they gained knowledge by eating the forbidden fruit did they experience shame as explained in Genesis 3:7.  In fact, God confirms what the serpent told Eve when God decides to banish the couple from the garden in Genesis 3:22 saying, “The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil…”

These verses reveal a few things that most retellings of the fall of man doctrine tend to gloss over.  First, God understood from the beginning the difference between good and evil but man did not.  Secondly, man’s awareness/understanding of his own nature is what changed, not his actual nature.  The Creator, God, created man in His own image as an autonomous being. By disobeying God humanity experienced shame (and its counterpart pain) for the first time.  Yet, man had no way of knowing what the consequences of disobedience would be before he disobeyed (he did not yet have that knowledge) even though the potential to disobey was part of man’s original nature. I have always been confused by the idea that God’s response to man (in the traditional interpretation of the fall of man story) was to punish him.  Punishment always seemed like an unjust response for something mankind was incapable of understanding.  God is not unjust, however.   What life looks like when the natural consequences of free will unfold is what I believe the creation, garden of Eden, and fall of man stories (not to mention the rest of scripture) actually reveal. Finally, (and this is where I may lose you if I haven’t already but please hear me out) God has the potential to exact tremendous, unfathomable, evil upon His creation.  Key word: potential.  Unlike mankind, He hasn’t. doesn’t.  and won’t.  (God the same yesterday, today, and forever).  The God I see revealed in scripture always chooses good, always chooses grace, and always chooses relationship.  Even His judgment (in the form of Jesus) is tempered by His love.

God’s omnipotence is different from our knowledge of good and evil. As a created being, man may know what good and evil are but that doesn’t make us all knowing.  God understands the big picture, sees the end and the beginning without the parameters of time and space. We may be able to learn from the past and predict into the future.  We may be able to use our imagination and come up with solutions that have never been tried before to problems we have not yet seen or create problems for which we have no solutions.  But, no matter how creative our thinking, no matter how much we are able to glean from the past we are still finite beings and our knowledge is tempered by our physical limitations. When God sent Jesus into the world, He did so in order to give mankind a flesh and blood, man in God’s image, example to follow.  Jesus was limited by the physical just like the rest of humanity.  Still, the gospels testify to Christ’s life walked out choosing peace, love, inclusion, service, righteous judgement, forgiveness,…  In other words, a human life. walked out. choosing the way God has chosen.  When we follow Christ’s example we too walk out our lives choosing peace, love, inclusion, service, righteous judgement, forgiveness,…  When we don’t follow Christ’s example our choices bring discord, hatred, blame, exclusion, selfishness, prejudice, condemnation,…  The spectrum between the two represent the natural consequences of free will, of knowing good and evil.  The choice is ours, consciously or not.

Now, please don’t hear what I’m not saying.  I am not saying God created evil in order to beat up His creation with it. (We do a thorough enough job of that ourselves). At the end of the day, when the story is done, I don’t believe we’re going to suddenly see a Creator character shift.  I don’t believe God is waiting to unleash an evil tyrant God ready to exact His revenge by tormenting the goats (along with Satan and his entourage) for the rest of eternity.  He has already consistently shown that. is not. His way. I am saying evil exists because it is part of the plan.  Evil (wrong doing, disobedience, sin, turning away from the love and protection of an all-knowing God) exists to give man a choice.

Our True Nature

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Recently my son wrote a blog called Born a Sinner.  You can check it out here if you’d like.  Most of my understanding about the traditional Christian doctrine regarding man’s sin nature comes from my rather simplistic understanding of John Calvin’s and  Jacobus Arminius teaching on the fall of man.   As the story goes when Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit sin entered them and from that day forward mankind had a sinful nature.  [Here is a side by side comparison of the applicable teachings. And here is a review of a 2013 book which compares John Calvin and John Wesley, the men most often associated with these teachings].

I have two problems with the fall of man doctrine.  In order to choose to eat the forbidden fruit in the first place mankind had to have the capacity to sin.  We also had to have the capacity to NOT sin or we could not justifiably be held accountable for our choices.  Neither Calvinist or Arminian teaching solve that problem.  My second problem with the Calvinist interpretation of scripture is once we have a sin nature (are totally deprived) how can we later choose salvation. Enter the theory of the elect, those chosen few who God provides with an irresistible call response–He calls we must respond. Ultimately, this interpretation makes God out to be a monster because not everyone is “called” (otherwise we’d all be Christians) thus God created some for the purpose of eternal torment. Personally, I can not reconcile the notion of Calvin’s elect with a loving God.  Rejecting Calvin’s interpretation , John Wesley  embraced the Arminian interpretation which  asserts that God forgave Adam’s original sin (providing prevenient grace) and thus made way for man to choose to accept salvation.  The “elect” for Amenians are simply those God knew from the beginning would eventually choose Him.  This particular loophole has its own set of problems since both Calvin and Wesley also teach that man must ask for forgiveness in order to be forgiven.  Allowing Adam off the hook without taking that step is a fairly major “exception to the rule”. (Making that exception for the rest of us leads to universalism which is a Calvin/Armenian no-no).

Most mainline Christians like the fall of man theories and have been preaching them since they were first theorized 500 years ago.  Personally, I believe we were created with the potential to sin from the beginning and the theology of the fall is an attempt to explain away the idea that God created man with the potential for both good and evil. (We don’t like to think of God as creating even the potential for evil because He’s ALL good).  Still, I believe this potentiality is essential if we are to embrace the theology of free will which directly impacts whether or not we can justly be held accountable for our choices and our need for forgiveness.

Recently I’ve noticed, in posts like this one, our sin nature has been used to try to skirt the fact that many Christians still think being a homosexual is a choice.  They feel justified calling homosexuality a sin but don’t want to be seen as unloving or judgmental toward homosexuals.  While I agree homosexuals make choices as to how they act out their sexual urges just like heterosexuals do (some of which might be sinful), their orientation (their same-sex rather than opposite-sex attraction) is not a choice.  I did not choose to be female, to be short, or to have hazel eyes. Each of those facets (to varying degrees) make me me but since I did not chose them I am not responsible for them.  The same is true with regard to my sexual orientation.  I never chose to be heterosexual.  It is astate of being. On the other hand, I have chosen to be married and to be monogamous. Those are both behaviors.

I understand how sharing posts like the one I linked above and proclaiming that the most loving thing a Christian can do is to warn homosexuals of their impending doom, is not a conscious act of malice or hate.  I get that the Church means well.  We don’t intend to hurt the people around us–or for that matter those clear across the country via Facebook.  Our goal isn’t to make God out to be a Tyrant when we proclaim what He is for or what He is against. However, our intentions do not determine how our words and actions are received.  As Christians we can remain in denial as to the differences between a state of being and a behavior.  We can continue to ignore  the uncomfortable atmosphere our judgments create (no matter how kindly they are worded).  We can even insist, despite  our negative attitudes and ugly behavior, we have “friends who are gay”.  (Frankly, that says more about our friends’ abilities to forgive and be tolerant than it says about us).

I believe our actions and our attitudes reveal our true nature–be that a Sin nature (a heart turned away from God) or a Grace nature (a heart turned toward God).  When we come at people with our best interpretations of an English translation of an ancient scripture, when we point fingers at the Other and when we focus on sin instead of God’s love we do, all too often, portray God as a disapproving brute, a bully to be afraid of rather than a God to be feared (awed, revered, trusted, and adored). When we ignore God’s priorities–we ignore God altogether.

I have interacted with many of you who think taking the high road–agreeing to disagree or disengaging from on-line debates–is your most Christ-like option.  But, the Christ I see witnessed in the gospels confronted, in very specific ways, a world which had turned away from God.  He rebuked the hypocrites and the Pharisees for their self righteous and legalistic thinking and teachings.  He chased away the money lenders for their wrong priorities. He equated faith and love with acts of compassion and generosity.  He forgave soldiers who didn’t ask for His forgiveness.  He healed and ministered to women, servants, Romans, and Samaritans–without concern for their social status.  In short, He reached out to those marginalized by the spiritually correct.

We have been called to do like-wise and we accept that call every time we call ourselves little-Christs. We’re not meant to take the high road.  We are meant to take up the cross.

In This Season, part 2

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IMG_3632Guilt has long been my friend.  Add an inbred sense of duty, a desire to be loving, generous and a peacemaker, oppressive teachings in the name of Jesus, and you concoct the recipe for emotional self censorship I consumed for most of my adult life.  My feelings didn’t matter.  My opinions didn’t matter.  My reasoning didn’t matter.  In fact they were all at risk of worldly corruption unless they were first approved by the correct mouth pieces.  My job was to honor and obey my parents and later to sacrifice all things “me” for my  family, especially my husband.

I learned both subtle and overt messages regarding the proper behavior of a daughter, wife, and Godly woman.  Do not contradict authority.  Serve the fellowship (in the nursery, Sunday school, and at the hospitality table).  Train up your children in the way they should go, as directed by your parents, your husband, and the Lord as interpreted by the Bible, as interpreted by the pastor, as interpreted by the Godly women of the fellowship whom the pastor trusted to lead other women only.

If the gentle teaching I received wasn’t enough to keep me in line with my duty to God I was admonished and instructed to bring my petitions (complaints) to God in prayer thereby avoiding divisiveness and gossip, understand that His ways were not always my ways (especially when they didn’t line up with the Man of God in the house), be silent, and submit.   The subtext to this instruction went something like this: If you want relationships within this fellowship, you will follow the rules and not make “us” admonish you publicly.  Such a step would most certainly reflect badly on your husband and children and result in your exclusion from the more inward circles of fellowship.

People from the first half of my life might wonder how I was pulled so quickly into the cult like mentality of this form of Christianity.  After all, I was raised in a family with  a strong female roll model.  My Mother was a strong minded, independent thinker, well educated, capable of doing anything she wanted to do, and equal to my Father where decision making was concerned.  How could I so quickly and easily be controlled by such an oppressive mind-set?

Two words answer the question–love and guilt.  Or, better yet the lack of the former and over abundance of the latter.  While I never experienced physical want as a child my family of origin was emotionally reserved and in general unavailable–passion, outrage, intimacy, mess–none were acceptable.  Calm, reasoned, methodical, private, orderly–those adjectives described my family.  For a little girl full of creativity, curiosity, and emotional energy the atmosphere was stifling, void of opportunity for self expression, and dismissive.  I felt like a left over puzzle piece–unnecessary and unappreciated.

Whenever I left the house my mother’s words: Remember whose daughter you are, trailed after me.  My mother was so active in the community I thought she had eyes everywhere and would be told about everything I did.  Additionally, I believed I would only be allowed to take up space in their lives so long as I complied with an endless list of expectations.  Always be polite.  Never ask for more.  Dress appropriately. There is a correct way to do everything.  Defer to parents, their friends, and all other adults–first.   Speak when spoken to–clearly and with proper grammar.  Never dominate the conversation.  Get good grades.  Make the right friends.  Always do your best.  There is a correct way to do everything.  Play quietly…  In short, love in the environment in which I grew up was experienced through a barometer of approval and disappointment.  And, I was continuously guilty of not meeting the standard.  In the end, I had been perfectly groomed for the cult like Christianity I stepped into as an adult.  Dangle the carrot of love.  Keep them with the threat of disapproval.

I have tried to explain my process of emerging from the cult like Christianity I experienced in other posts so I won’t rehash that now.  (Follow the links if you’re interested). I titled this Part 2 of In This Season because I am, in this season of my life as a wife and mother, wrestling with the messages I have passed on to my children, messages I regret like those which contributed to the pain my youngest son experienced and his choice to pull away from our family (the focus of Part 1), messages I still believe but that have gotten tarnished by the difficulties of the last few years, and messages I hope my children can hear now with different words.

I regret…In my efforts to “honor my husband as the head of the house” when my children were young I gave them the message that he was the rule maker, that he controlled our lives, that he was to be feared.  I failed to take responsibility for my choice to not speak up even when I did not agree and so never advocated for my children when I should have.  My behavior deflected blame but at a huge cost.  The subtext message, that women are less valuable, not as capable, and weaker than men, not only hurt my daughters but my sons as well.  I made a similar mistake when it came to messages from the fellowships we attended.  Thus without intending to I  endorsed an extreme conservative mind-set which often came across as self-righteous, isolationist, moralistic, and judgmental.  These are the attitudes and messages I’d like to erase.

Other messages I know have been tarnished yet I still embrace.  I still believe in service to the greater community as well as one’s own family.  I still advocate a generosity of goods and spirit and would add stewardship of the planet.   I embrace the ideal of living at peace with others in so far as one is able.  I simply no longer believe it is possible to honestly walk out those principles while sacrificing one’s voice, ignoring injustice, or remaining isolated.

The road indeed is narrow–like a tight rope–but staring at ones feet (continually measuring one’s world by a book of Law) does not improve one’s balance.  Even though I want my children to do good works,  I hope their works are a response to the abundance of love and grace flowing into their lives.  While I desire that their choices bring them greater understanding of how deeply they are valued and how much they are appreciated, I also hope their own strength of character and core knowledge of what is right does not require recognition in order to act.  I hope they realize how rarely life is limited to either/or especially when the choice seems to be between relationship or principle.  I want them to choose both/and even when it is more difficult, more costly, and more time consuming to do so.  Yet most of all, I pray the rest of the life I walk out in front of my children will be walked out less often with a measuring stick and more often with an embrace, less frequently with a microscope and more frequently with a blindfold, less habitually with a megaphone and more habitually with a whisper and the still small voice of the Perfect Counselor.

*  *  *  DISCLAIMER: In the name of being honest, the above is only a partial description of my childhood feelings and my subsequent adult experience.  Yes, they were painted in a negative light as I tried to connect the dots, as much for myself as for the reader, of how I got from one place to another and finally to where I now stand.  I remember laughter in my childhood home and quite summers in our cabin at Seeley Lake.  I always felt physically safe and know of only one time when my Mother raised her voice to me, though she showed her disapproval in other ways.  And, while my Father was often absent from my daily life (He was an accountant and worked long hours.) I remember skiing with him, and sailing with him and fishing with him.  To me my life was normal, which actually contributed to my longing for the connection promised but ultimately lacking in my church related experience of Christianity.

Day of Dialogue

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The university I go to holds a Day of Dialogue every year.  On this day students and members of the community have the opportunity to attend a variety of lecture and discussion groups on a whole host of topics all connected back (sometimes rather loosely) to education.  This year there were several sessions during the Day of Dialogue I would have enjoyed attending though many were at the same time so I had to choose from several contenders.  (Often a problem for people who are interested in political and social justice issues).  One I tried to attend, discussing ageism, was actually canceled.  Just before days end, however I went to a panel discussion on being Gay and Christian.  The panel focused primarily on keeping dialogue open, moving toward a spirit of inclusiveness, and providing safe places for the GLBTQ community to express their faith.

None of the specific information the panel provided was new to me; I have seen the scripture references that were provided and heard the arguments on both sides of the issue. I was heartened however, by the individual panel members’ willingness to share their own stories and perspectives.  One young man shared how throughout high school his continuous church and school attendance (He went to a Catholic school.) was like receiving hundreds of little paper cuts.  No single cut was insurmountable but the accumulation of cuts produced inside him a self-loathing that took several years to heal.  Another panelist described how difficult it was as a lesbian to try and have relationship with parents who run an exit program, a ministry geared toward “healing” gays and lesbians from being gay and lesbian.  The most conservative voice on the panel came from a Presbyterian pastor who explained to the audience that he was probably ahead of most of his congregation in his point of view.  He called for continued dialogue and a recognition on the part of the more liberal minded that more than a few of those he pastors are sincere in their desire to be true to scripture and avoid being hateful or hostile as they wrestle with the issue of same sex sexual relationships.

For many homosexuals the Presbyterian pastor’s position does not go far enough especially for a religion that promotes its God as a God of love.  Personally I tend to see the pastor’s position as a vital starting point but agree it does not make a good stopping spot.  This issue touches me personally as I have recently emerged from a religious tradition stuck in a much more restrictive and judgmental mindset than the Presbyterian pastor’s.  And, I have a son who for years fought his own sexuality in isolation.  A gifted intercessor, he initially thought his feelings were part of his gift, allowing him to identify with others struggling with their sexuality.  Realizing his feelings were more personal than that he spent a period of time begging God to take them away, all the while filling his own mind with self-depreciating thoughts.  After all, according to the Church, his God considers him as an abomination, especially since (with regard to sexual matters) the Church sees little difference between thought and action.

How long my son lived with this torment I cannot actually say.  Sadly he was too afraid his family would reject him to share the truth about what he was going through.  His fear stopped him from telling us for several years and caused him to suffer alone. As his mother I am grieved.  Yet, I understand the experience of many gay children growing up in religious homes mirrors my son’s, or is worse.  And, while my son was not greeted with the violent rejection he feared, he was also not received with an enthusiastic round of applause either.  Coming out has not been easy.  Becoming comfortable in his own skin has not been easy.  Educating us about what hurts has not been easy.

My son’s story is one of thousands, hundreds of thousands, of young people struggling to understand who they are in the context of faith.  Obviously, for many of these children, probably most of them, the message of an unconditionally loving Father has been overshadowed by images of condemnation and rejection.  Those of us who believe in the former need to do something about the latter.  We need to wake up and we need to wake up the rest of the Church.

My personal exit from an organized religious institution was not the result of my son’s struggles but it certainly would have been had I not already left.  When I asked the pastor’s on the Day of Dialogue panel if anything was being done to “educate” other pastors in the community, to open lines of communication within the Church, or to expose the condemning language used in most of the more traditional Church settings, the panel members basically shrugged their shoulders.  Some muttered something about it being hard enough to simply keep their own places of worship talking in open positive ways.  And, other simply remained silent.  This, too, grieves me.

At the same time, all six members of the panel for the Day of Dialogue were people of faith who are part of larger communities which are trying to make a difference.  I need to hang on to that fact.  As I continue to encourage my son in his faith, embrace and speak life into the vision he has for his future, and build my own relationships with the people he is in relationship with, I am buoyed by knowing the journey I am on need not be made in isolation.  The Church is bigger than its ugly, hurt, and lonely places.  In some circles grace, forgiveness, and acceptance abound.  I believe these circles are growing and that belief gives me hope.

This is a late addition to the Synchroblog.  Here are some other links:

Judgment Seat

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I was once again recently confronted by one of the mantras of evangelical Christianity–the end is coming and we will be judged.  After a quick query on judgment and forgiveness, I landed on Matthew 7:1-2 and the question came to me–what if it really means what it says?  Verses 1 and 2 read: “Do not judge or you will be judged.  For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”

Ta-dum!  Sounds pretty simple.  That is, if we can really and truly walk through our lives looking at the other without preconceived attitudes as to how they do and do not measure up to us.  And, if we can really and truly figure out how to let go of the offenses we have suffered rather than hold them against the offender.  And, if we can actually show grace toward others, and love without reason.  You know, the way God first loved us.  Maybe then the judgment we face at the end of our earthly lives will be full of grace and love without reason.  Maybe it will be laced with forgiveness.  And, maybe it will be void of preconceived perceptions as to our worth.

On the other hand, if we make getting to God an obstacle course, full of hoops to jump through and not-so-secret passwords we have to know, say, and mean in our hearts before they count, then that might be the course we will have to run.  The laws we expect others to live by before we trust them on the podium, or in the prayer room, or on the worship team, or beside us in the believer’s pew may end up being, if Matthew 7:1-2 really means what it says, the laws we face come Judgment.

I do not know about you but that thought scares the hell right out of me.  I know that sounds flippant, especially if you are one of the people who think in order to believe God is just He actually must. send some people. to a place of everlasting torture. because justice can only be served by torturing those people forever. for a sin they committed during the limited. time of their life span.  But, this post is not about hell, per se.

I do actually think if Matthew 7:1-2 is to be taken literally, hell is best taken off the table.  (Please do not read that statement as my actual reason for not accepting the traditional hell doctrine, because its unpleasantness has nothing to do with not being able to find it in scripture which is the actual reason I do not embrace it).  But honestly, I am more concerned about the nature of judgment–the impact my attitudes, words, and actions have on the people around me in the here and now as well as, selfishly, the repercussions those judgments might have for me.

If we are honest with ourselves we must admit we make judgments everyday–That is safe.  This is too expensive.  These colors look good together.  Those do not. That milk is spoiled.–The Bible calls this kind of judgment discernment and actually encourages its readers to have and use it.  So, if some types of judgment (AKA discernment) are considered desirable from a Biblical point of view which kinds are not?  The Matthew passage focuses on our judgment of other people.   I would even go so far as to say it is not focused on judging other people’s behavior so much as their worth.

We need to be wise about who we follow and the behaviors we embrace, tolerate, avoid, and even disallow.  Wisdom in those areas is discernment.  Yet, even as we understand certain behaviors to be dangerous, damaging, or undesirable we must be careful to avoid thinking of people in the same way we think of behavior.

While discussing my ideas for this post with a friend he challenged me by setting up the following hypothetical scenario:  You are in a service.  The pastor just started the sermon and a person enters who appearing to be drunk begins to cause a scene–loud talking, cat calls to the front, stumbling down the aisle.  My friend believed the person should be removed from the service by the ushers.  When I asked why and if that would be the most loving response.  He answered that the others in the service needed to be “protected” and had a right to hear the pastor’s message.  And, he added, removing the drunk was not unloving.  I would agree, especially if the person was not just thrown out of the building but actually offered some kind of assistance.

Yet, I argued with my friend, removing the person from the service treats him like a behavior more than a person because our concern and response would be less about him and more about ourselves–our rights and our comfort levels.  I believe loving the person would have included inviting him to sit with us, offering to get him a cup of coffee or something to eat, and addressing the issues gnawing in his head which caused him to stumble through our doors to begin with.  I believe our ministering to that individual’s need would have demonstrated the Biblical principle of loving one another with much greater poignancy than  any sermon points a pastor might have had in that moment.  And in fact, in Mark 2 when four men lowered a paraplegic through the roof disrupting Jesus from preaching the word, Jesus modeled just such love by forgiving the man’s sins and healing his body.

Perhaps our drunk would have continued to be disruptive.  And, the service would have been dismissed without a happy ending or the neatly tied package we find in Mark 2.  Certainly the others in the service would have had lots to chew over.  And maybe, once our drunk had sobered up he would have remembered not being thrown out and what it felt like to be loved instead of judged.

Once Again

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1. to regard or judge with forgiveness or indulgence; pardon or forgive; overlook (a fault, error, etc.): _____ his bad manners.
2. to offer an apology for; seek to remove the blame of: He _____ his absence by saying that he was ill.
3. to serve as an apology or justification for; justify: Ignorance of the law _____ no one.
4. to release from an obligation or duty: to be ______ from jury duty.
5. to seek or obtain exemption or release for (oneself): to _____ oneself from a meeting.

As you read the definitions and examples, were you able to fill in the blanks?  The above are my on-line dictionary’s definitions for the word: excuse.  I have noticed in myself, my family, my friends, my co-workers, my classmates, my professors, those I do business with, those I meet outside the grocery, basically everyone I come in contact with, a tendency to excuse behavior in ourselves others might find troublesome or objectionable.  Most of us, myself included, are not particularly anxious to admit we make excuses for our behavior, preferring instead to think of it as simply explaining our thinking, but the fact remains we do not want to think of ourselves as offensive and do not want to be held to a standard by which our actions or words could be deemed such.  The other fact is phrases and comebacks like: just kidding, I didn’t mean it that way, you take everything too seriously, but they…, take a chill pill, can’t ya take a joke, I’m sorry but…, indicate just how unwilling we are to be confronted or held accountable for our words and behavior.

An aside: (One problem with confronting the offensive words and behavior of others (and perhaps one reason so many of us are reluctant to do so) is some might see us as hypocrites the moment we do.  Which I might add may or may not have a basis in reality.  The reality depends on how willing we ourselves are to be confronted.  But I will save the true nature of hypocrisy for a future discussion).

As per my usual, a recent FB interaction stirred up my thinking about the excuses we make for our offensive behavior as well as the behavior itself.  I am not a fan of much of what passes for humor these days.  When I taught school I had a “no dissing in my classroom” policy.  The reason for both is the same: belittling others, maligning an individual’s character, personality, or appearance, holding a person up to ridicule or derision–all–are offensive behaviors, and especially offensive when coming from people who otherwise see themselves or may be seen by others as walking on higher moral ground (whether for religious or political reasons).  I neither find the afore-mentioned behaviors humorous nor valuable. They should not pass as entertainment and they ought not be considered harmless even if the subject never knows about the offense.  If you have not already guessed, my recent FB interaction poured a little fuel on this particular pet peeve.
I get being tired of fighting ideological battles.  I understand the desire to want an easier way.  And, I know the temptation to take a low blow and poke fun at the person rather than come up with another well-reasoned argument against what too often feels like a ridiculous, illogical, immoral, closed-minded, self-centered, unreasonable, irresponsible, did I say ridiculous, position.  I have been there.  Almost every day I have been there.  Sometimes I just close my eyes and move on and some days I try to open some one else’s eyes to a different way of seeing.  My children get a knowing look whenever they Hear me say, “Not to excuse any behavior, but just by way of explanation…”  because every now and then I fall, take the easy route, and poke fun.  And, I am always embarrassed when someone (including my children or the Holy Spirit) confronts my behavior.  Usually I apologize but on occasion I make an excuse just like the person I confronted on FB.
Even though I have great empathy, gained from personal experience and failure, I am grieved by how often those of us who claim to follow Christ, who desire to be His ambassadors to a hurting world, are unable (or unwilling) to see our behavior through the eyes of that world.  I am frustrated by how difficult some of the words and actions of my fellow Christ followers make my witness to my non-Christian friends, and in turn by how difficult I at times make their witness.
We are desperate people.  I so want my family and friends to think better of me than my actions allow when I have done or said something hurtful to someone else.  And so, I make an excuse.  I desperately want their respect and admiration even if I do not always have their agreement.  And so, I make an excuse.  I also want some sympathy for how narrow the path can become.  And so, I make an excuse.  But the excuses do not get me what I want.
Matthew 5:48 instructs us to, “be perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect”.  How is that even possible?
I have admitted before on this blog that my personal growing edge, or the area I feel a thorn in my side, is in my lack of forgiveness toward other Christians.  Once again I wrestle with that demon.  In addition to Matthew 5:48, the Spirit reminds me that “love covers a multitude of sin” (1 Peter 4:8), and “perfect love casts out fear” which is based in judgment (1 John 4:18).  So, if I love I will forgive and if I forgive I can be perfect as my Father is perfect.

We Hold On

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I hate sin.

Sin steals and distorts and manipulates and lies.  It wounds and maims but rarely completely kills.  Instead it leaves its victims bleeding alongside the road.

And sin most often invites more sin to its party.  When the victim is down sin’s guests come along and give the victim a kick.

I hate sin.  And God hates sin.  But God does not hate the sinner.  And THAT is the biggest difference between God and Man.  All too often we behave as though hating the man, condemning the man, defeating the man, destroying the man, humiliating the man, removing the man, avoiding the man is. the. same. as. hating the sin.

It isn’t.

Recently a member of the Body chose to open the door to sin and let sin throw a party.  Today the person and the person’s family are dealing with the consequences of that choice.  No one connected to the person is okay.  Some are not impacted as deeply as those closest to the person but no one is unaffected.  The final bill for sin’s party this time around has not yet been totaled.  The only thing I know for sure is everyone directly connected to the person’s life is already paying.

I happen to be thinking of a specific situation and a specific person at the moment.  But, the truth is the person is every one of us.  We all sin.  The sin we invite into our lives might be large or small (as man tends to measure sin) it doesn’t matter; it still costs.  And we all pay.

I hate sin.

But I am slowly learning what it means to love one another, to be members of the same body, to forgive, to show mercy, to walk in grace.  I am angry at sin and sad about the pain and scarring it always causes.  But we do not defeat sin by hating the sinner.  We do not even defeat sin by hating sin.  We defeat sin by taking away its sting.  We defeat sin by lifting up, holding on to, encouraging, forgiving, listening to, and loving the sinner. in. each. one. of. us.  When it seems like an overwhelmingly big sin we hold on tight.  We hold on because the sinner might not.  We hold on because we are the body.  We hold on because we love.  The road can get bumpy.  But we hold on!   We hold on.  If we want to defeat sin, we hold on.

Holding on rarely negates the consequences to sin.  Poisoning our bodies with years of smoking leads ultimately to poorer health and probably to an earlier death.  Sometimes the pain we cause by our sin breaks trust and destroys relationship, permanently.  But being held can in time soften the blow so the rest of us hold on.  We hold on to the sinner and we hold on to those most impacted by the sin.  We hold on because we are the Body and if we don’t sin wins.

 

Grace Response

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Have you ever felt you were just about to experience an ah-ha moment?  When I feel as though I am standing on the cusp of those ah-ha encounters I know it is the Spirit.  Most of the time ah-has simply come.  If I am already in a calm or receptive mind-set I recognize them more or less after the fact but am still able to gain a nugget of insight.  On occasion however, I have a premonition and I can lean into what I am about to receive.  These are the best ah-ha’s because I see the Spirit as a guide, that focuses my attention on the main point.  By acknowledging the Spirit’s presence I give myself a better chance to let the ah-ha sink in, reach deeper, and get a better hold in my life.  Recently I had that kind of ah-ha.  It had to do with understanding the strength of Christ’s love, the promise of Spirit’s ongoing presence, and what it means to walk in Grace.

Let me try to explain.  Most Christians I know use the term Grace when they really mean Mercy.  This is not to say Mercy is a bad thing.  When the Bible tells us to forgive I think it is primarily talking about offering Mercy toward others.  Mercy basically means showing people less judgment or hostility than they deserve.  It doe not mean we pretend so-and-so did not commit the crime or make the offense; only that we forgive him for the crime or offense he committed.  Under the law a person may face punishment or need to make some sort of retribution for something she has done but it does not take the offense away or cause it to never have been committed.  Mercy is all about moving on and second chances.

Those who make a distinction between Mercy and Grace often say, “Grace is undeserved favor.”  Romans 11:6 seems to support this concept–“[Speaking about the chosen remnant from Israel] And if by grace it [their being chosen] cannot be based on works; if it were grace would no longer be grace.”  But let’s face it Mercy is most often undeserved (not based on works) as well.  So no, Grace is more than undeserved.  And it is more than favor.  Just look at Galatians 2:21 and 5:4: “I do not set aside the grace of God, for if righteousness could be gained through the law, Christ dies for nothing!…You who are trying to be justified by the law have been alienated from Christ; you have fallen away from grace.”  Our justification and righteousness in relationship to God are ours because of God’s Grace.  While our justification and righteousness are certainly favor in the sense of a gift, they are not favor as Christians typically use the word, AKA as a synonym for poured out blessings.   1 Peter 4:9-11 adds even more insight:

Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling.  Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.  If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ.

The chapter goes on to instruct its readers to not be put off by hardships that come one’s way because of one’s faith.  Hardship–not exactly the favor we like to imagine God pouring out on us.

In the passage mentioned above the idea of using everything we have been given (and incidentally everything we have we have been given) to serve those around us is directly connected to Grace.  Maybe it reads differently to you but manifesting Grace by walking out my relationship to God in service to (AKA to the benefit of) others is a huge ah-ha for me!  But even more amazing is the ah-ha the Spirit whispered to me before I started researching the word Grace.  In one of the many conversations I have had lately with youngest son (about mercy and grace and sin and the us-them mentality and witnessing and the Other and…) I heard the Spirit explain: it is not that Grace is blind to sin; Grace, in fact, is God’s response to sin.  Let me repeat that: Grace is God’s response to sin.

Grace does not take sin into account in the sense of measuring the weight of sin to hold it against us.  Instead, Grace sees the hole created by sin and fills the hole.  God’s distribution of Grace (love, kindness, forgiveness, mercy, patience, joy, peace, hope, restoration, encouragement, gentleness, perseverance) is as generous to the last as it is to the first.  And, when we are faithful stewards of the Grace given us, we partnership with Him in its distribution.

Here are some links to other SynchroBlog posts: