I’ve kept reminding myself to breath these last couple of days. Just breath. Just breath.
Smaug rolled again yesterday and snorted. He did it in the most unlikely of places too. Caught me completely unaware. I hate when that happens. I was happily reading blog posts and sipping my morning coffee. When Googlereader flashed a new post from Bro. M. entitled “Stockholm Syndrome.” “Ohhh … sure to be good,” I thought. And just clicked on through.
I’d really recommend reading the whole post and comments for yourself. I know I always do that. You’re probably tired of it. I do that for a number of reasons. Primarily, I do it because words are a dicey form of communication. I interpret them slightly differently than you. So, you’ll read that post a little bit differently than I do … because your context is different from mine. Second, I’m sure to have missed some important point or other … so please go point that out to me. I always need the help. I can synopsize here … but you’re really better off reading it for yourself. Especially the comments, which are also good.
I spent the better part of yesterday and now this morning stewing over that post. It hit me hard. I don’t know if it was between the eyes or in the solar plexus. In either case, I spun away dizzy and hurt. Churning and emotionally stunned. It wasn’t that Bro. M. wrote anything particularly hurtful. It was that what he wrote stirred up the waters of a pond I have just recently brought to still. I tried several times throughout the day to write a coherent comment at his place and couldn’t. So, I’m writing here. In between breathing and taping the trim and painting.
Bro. M. likened some of the experiences in church and spiritual abuse to the experience that some kidnap victims have that is known as Stockholm Syndrome. “Stockholm syndrome is a psychological response sometimes seen in an abducted hostage, in which the hostage shows signs of loyalty to the hostage-taker, regardless of the danger (or at least risk) in which the hostage has been placed.”
I’m not certain that I agree with Bro. M. that Stockholm Syndrome adequately describes the effect or the relationship between the parties in the relationship when spiritual abuse or bullying happens. I think that there are some aspects of it that are present. But here is where I think there is a significant difference between victims who are under the influence of Stockholm Syndrome and victims of spiritual abuse. Victims who are influenced by Stockholm Syndrome eventually come to realize that the things that they feared while under the influence of their kidnapper/protagonist were unreal, unreasonable and/or illegitimate fears. They were (in a word) made up, in many cases, by the kidnapper in order to hold sway over the victim.
Victims of spiritual abuse never have that realization. Their worst fears are all realized. They lose. They lose their friends. They lose their spiritual family. They lose their source of spiritual support. They lose everything. I can count on one hand the number of friends I have. One. There is hardly anyone to pray for me and mine in the brick and mortar world. We are alone. And it is lonely here. This walk is painful and dry and hungry. On my good days, I know that God is here. On my bad days (and they are frequent) even God is absent.
In January of 2006 I had a nervous breakdown that involved panic attacks and depression. My panic revolved around an unreasonable fear I had that people (policemen mostly) were going to accuse me of something I hadn’t done and the courts would not believe my testimony or any evidence I gave on my own behalf. I was fortunate to have a good counselor and psychiatrist who working together brought me out of that state in relatively short order. I learned how to deal with those fears and strange thoughts. The brain is an interesting organ. But imagine my dismay when it turned out to be some horrible foreshadowing. In January 2007 the people making the unfounded accusations were not the police, but some of my closest friends and no one would believe my testimony or any of the evidence I gave on my own behalf.
I’m no spring chicken. I’ve been around for a while now. One of the things that I’ve been involved with for a long, long time is the process of peace. Redemption. Reconciliation. Mediation. I first heard about it when I worked with the Neighborhood Justice Project to fulfill my community service requirement in college. This was a group that was devoted to mediating disputes between landlords and tenants in the town where I went to college. I heard about it next when I was interning for Senator Stafford. One of his assistants was involved in an initiative that would eventually become The Network of Peace and Conflict Studies at George Mason University. Both of those examples date back to the very early 1980’s and I could go on. My personal history is rife with such examples. I’m dipping into the deep past to say that I’ve been immersed in the issues of peace, redemption and reconciliation for a very long time and it pre-dates my journey with Jesus by a number of years. I know how to mediate and I know the cost involved in reconciliation. I’ve done both … and it’s painful. It’s hard. I am never good at it. I’m not certain anyone is.
So this morning I read this post at Jonathan Brink’s blog about the Mark Driscoll kerfuffle. I’m going to quote some of what he wrote. Not because I think MD has anything to do with this issue, but because Jonathan said some significant things about the process of reconciliation (or not) and redemption (or not) that we all highjack:
All of this makes me realize there might have been a deeper wisdom to Jesus inviting us to, “Turn the other cheek.†How many times have we read that verse assuming it was only our enemy. Maybe Jesus knew we’d need that verse for our own brothers (and sisters) too, for the one’s that hurt us within the church. The reality is that my brother is going to miss the mark sometimes. But if I go to him in secret, holding his dignity in love, he’ll know I really am his brother. I can listen to why he thinks this or that and say, “Oh I get it…but have you thought about this.†It’s just between the two of us. Jesus knew that love was the only response that worked. In a mission of restoration and reconciliation, I can’t do that if there are blows thrown. Maybe Jesus knew that the moment someone strikes us is the moment we are being invited to destroy ourselves by striking back or running away. When someone hit us was actually the most defining moment of our lives. It was in this moment that life was demanding an answer to who we really are. Are we really the children of a living God?
All of this makes me realize there might have been a deeper wisdom to Jesus inviting us to, “Turn the other cheek.†How many times have we read that verse assuming it was only our enemy. Maybe Jesus knew we’d need that verse for our own brothers (and sisters) too, for the one’s that hurt us within the church.
The reality is that my brother is going to miss the mark sometimes. But if I go to him in secret, holding his dignity in love, he’ll know I really am his brother. I can listen to why he thinks this or that and say, “Oh I get it…but have you thought about this.†It’s just between the two of us. Jesus knew that love was the only response that worked. In a mission of restoration and reconciliation, I can’t do that if there are blows thrown.
Maybe Jesus knew that the moment someone strikes us is the moment we are being invited to destroy ourselves by striking back or running away. When someone hit us was actually the most defining moment of our lives. It was in this moment that life was demanding an answer to who we really are. Are we really the children of a living God?
See … going to a brother in secret? Well, one sort of supposes that that conversation is kept in confidence. That is when redemption and reconciliation is possible. On the other hand, sometimes those conversations are used as artillery. When one discovers that the conversations have not been kept in confidence, but have been twisted and maimed; taken out of context and given to others. Then one is stuck between a rock and a hard place. I absolutely loved what Jonathan had to say … it’s beautiful and right and good and true. However, if you find that the brother or sister you’ve gone to is not trustworthy or is not playing the same game that you are. There is nothing else to do, but walk away. There is no reconciliation possible. You may over time forgive that person. But until they are ready to reconcile and play on an even field, redemption of the relationship cannot work.
And so I also found myself at odds with Bill Kinnon (it was a strange day indeed). He riffed on Bro. M.’s post writing about the responsibilities of the congregation under such brutal leadership. He said in part:
But there are congregations throughout the world that are, for want of a better word, stupid. For, as Forrest Gump is wont to say, “Stupid is as stupid does.” Rather than exhibiting the power of collective intelligence*, they reflect the swamp of collective stupidity. Their senior pastors operate like potentates with management skills worthy of inclusion in Bob Sutton’s book or possibly one of Robert Hare’s – whilst these so-called leaders are busy self-identifying as Level 5 leaders. Yet the pew people stay loyal followers.
But there are congregations throughout the world that are, for want of a better word, stupid. For, as Forrest Gump is wont to say, “Stupid is as stupid does.”
Rather than exhibiting the power of collective intelligence*, they reflect the swamp of collective stupidity. Their senior pastors operate like potentates with management skills worthy of inclusion in Bob Sutton’s book or possibly one of Robert Hare’s – whilst these so-called leaders are busy self-identifying as Level 5 leaders. Yet the pew people stay loyal followers.
Sorry, Bill, I need to part ways with you on this. I don’t believe in collective stupidity. I do, however, believe in a state of collective fear. Or should I say … pack behavior. We are, after all, dogs. Or, in the words of Handel, sheep. No one wants to be excluded from the pack (herd). May I refer you to my (not so wonderful) post on the topic? The people in a church know exactly what happens to those who step out of line. The leadership make sure of it.
I was emotionally raped in front of my team by my leadership in my own livingroom. They did it on purpose. Guess who are their most ardent followers now? Those who saw up close and personal how savage the leaders could be. They know exactly what will happen if they step out of line. They know exactly when, where and how they will be outcast.
Those things are unspoken in any social construct. Every social entity has a gatekeeper. That gatekeeper lets people in and out. Is the keeper of the pack so to speak. That person is also the keeper of the unwritten and unspoken rules of that social entity. People will go to great lengths to keep that person happy without being aware of what they are doing … without that person even being aware of their own position in the group. People know what they have to do in order to “make” it in a group and so they do those things in order to get along and stay part of the herd. Because the root desire of most people’s heart is to belong. They want to belong to the larger group.
So, I don’t believe it is collective stupidity that drives people to suspend their good judgment in order to continue to belong to unhealthy groups/churches. I don’t believe it is Stockholm Syndrome. I don’t know what it is. I think there are some parts that want to continue doing and being what and where God calls us to be. We want to be part of the solution, not part of the problem. And most of all, nobody wants this … this long walk in a desert. Nobody chooses this. It’s much too hard, too lonely, and people will do almost anything to put it off. I know I did.
… or how Christians have gotten it wrong lately.
I was tagged by Julie (who was tagged by the eminent Bro. M.) in a new meme, based upon the book, unChristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks about Christianity… and Why It Matters. For some good thinking on the book and the meme, you should go to Bro.M’s post … he’s very thorough. Much more so than I.
Here is the gist of it … as few as 10 years ago Christianity had a good name. Now, not so much. For the meme we are to list three negatives of the Christian religion that is all too prevalent and then 1 positive of the faith that we wish were more abundant.
Negatives …
Christians are cherry-pickers. They pick and choose which parts of the Bible they’re going to pay attention to on any given day of the week. Ferinstance, they’re all for the right to life. When it’s in the womb. Once you’re out and breathing though, by god, you’d better take care of yourself. Welfare is for slackers and lie-a-beds. You want to kill all the killers too. Nuke the towelheads. The death penalty is our God-given right. There are consequences to sin and you’d better be prepared to pay ’em in this life and in the next.
Christians are always right and Right. Jesus is a Republican. Or he would be if were here today. Your salvation is in question if you vote Democrat. No lie. Christians should be involved in politics as long as those politics are conservative … make that reactionary. And you should always have an answer that is right, as in correct. Be able to answer every question, even those that are never asked. When you’re always right, no one can ever question you. Nice place to be, yeah? No conversation there …
Christians like to live in ivory towers, closeted away from the stains of the world. They listen to “Godly” music. They raise “Godly” children. They have “Godly” chatchkes. They have “Godly” friends. Their children marry “Godly” spouses. Can someone tell me what that means? Everything is carefully controlled and contrived. They have Harvest parties so their children won’t be tainted by Halloween … but it all looks the same, it just has a different name. We’re just fooling ourselves.
Here’s what I think … I think the three things I mentioned above stem from one thing. Fear. And Jesus came to set us free from fear. So here’s what I wish I would see in the Christian faith more abundantly … freedom.
I would love to see Christians living freely. Giving freely. Living with open hands in a closed fisted world. I would love to see those of us follow Jesus living in His freedom … smiling, laughing, dancing, giving, loving, and living openly, honestly. Being who we are without masks. Being Jesus to a frightened world. Imagine that for a moment. What a wonderful world it would be …
I’d love to hear the thoughts of Bill Kinnon, Erin Word, David Fisher, and Kay Paris on this subject.
The last time I stood in a church and participated in communion was March 4, 2007. I have not stepped into a sanctuary or had the Eucharist since then. I did not go to church on Easter. Not at Pentecost. When I had my annual physical recently, my doctor was astonished that I have forsworn the gathering of the saints. She was very concerned about that.
The friend I spoke of in my previous post has dealt with her issues of trust in another fashion. Her family attends a local mega-church. As she put it, “Why do you think we go to a church of 11,000 people?” And I responded, “That’s why we don’t go to church at all.”
Yesterday, however, I gathered with friends at the home of TexasBlueBelle and BlueMan. There were friends of their children present as well. The house overflowed with teenagers, adults, and children of all ages. The neighbors who have stood by them were there too. The couple from the neighborhood who have remained steadfast have lived there for seven years. They are not Jesus following people or people of any particular book. At one time or another it seems that they were indoctrinated in the ways of church, but that was long ago and far away.
We had lunch and heard the tales in the first person from all four of them for a little while. Things are much worse than I thought. When we all drove in there were people outside watching us arrive. There were people watching the house every time we stepped outside. It was eerie. It was weird. I wondered what they thought we would do or they would see. I waved and smiled as I left. There are six Peace Orders on the court docket scheduled to be heard on Friday, October 5.
After lunch we gathered in the livingroom for a communion service that I’d put together that included some prayers … the Lorica of St. Patrick, a Caim Prayer and we had open prayer for my friends and their neighbors. Then we all took communion together.
“Church” happened all afternoon. Love was present in the room. In the house. In the yard. Love and hope and joy and wonder filled the air as we gathered together to support our friends and celebrate communion together. We prayed for shielding from hate and persecution. We prayed for redemption and reconciliation. We prayed for peace.
I wish I had words for the beauty of what happened in that livingroom. I know that a lot of people cried, but I didn’t. I don’t always cry when things move me, but I will always treasure that afternoon. The prayers of the people and the children were simply beautiful. They were simple. And beautiful. And filled with hope. It was food and drink for the soul in ways that have no words.
The bread of heaven and the cup of salvation … world without end.
For the Father up above, Is looking down in love, So be careful little mouth what you say.
It’s a hokey children’s VBS song. But there’s a skosh of truth to it. Just enough that I’m quoting it here. I don’t think I’d want my children to sing it, mind you … but it will do to make a point.
I’m home from my quilting retreat. It was a good time. I was in the “Annex” room. Off the main room. We had more fun than the ladies in the main room. They kept coming in to ask what we were laughing about. I think it’s because our average age was about 15 years younger than the average age in the main room. Or something.
BlazingEwe was there. So was InteriorDecorator … in fact, she was one of the organizers. Yesterday I hurt my back sitting on a hard stool. But today I took my comfy chair and it was much better.
An old friend has rejoined the guild. I’ve known her since before LightBoy was born. I met her just after her son died of cystic fibrosis. She was one of my first quilting teachers. She was a member of my first CLB and I lost track of her when we left it in 2003 because she had sort of drifted away from the guild and quilting as well at the time. About 18 months ago she left that CLB under fire as well. I heard about it through the grapevine and reached out to her at the time. But it wasn’t the right time. Which was cool.
Yesterday she thanked me for that reach. And we talked. And cried. And grieved. We’ve both lost a lot in our different journeys. The one thing that we both lost is was an openness with everyone. We don’t know who to trust anymore, so we trust no one.
We criticize so quickly and easily these days. We make assumptions about peoples motives and hearts with the flip of a hair do. Here’s the thing. Those assumptions, accusations, critique and finally, judgement bear weight. Words do hurt and they bear harm for a long time. When we make those assumptions, accusations, critiques and judgements to other people … when we bear witness about people to others it does damage. Merely asserting the truth of our statements does not undo the damage that we may have done by bearing false witness. Those that think they are correct in their false assumptions about a person’s motives.
I wonder why it is so important that people be correct vs. being loving?
When I was googling around to find the whole verse for the silly song above, I found this scripture from Proverbs 6:
16-19 Here are six things God hates, and one more that he loathes with a passion: eyes that are arrogant, a tongue that lies, hands that murder the innocent, a heart that hatches evil plots, feet that race down a wicked track, a mouth that lies under oath, a troublemaker in the family.
I took it from The Message. In the NIV, the language is stronger. Notice, though, lying (or bearing false witness) is mentioned twice, along with a heart that hatches evil plots. Meditate on that for awhile … sometimes when we’re so focussed on being “right,” about someone … we become diametrically opposed to the will of God
I almost never do this. In fact, I can’t think of a single time that I have done this. But I’m doing it now.
I’m going to ask all of you, my blogger friends, to pray. Please pray and pray hard (whatever that means), in whatever faith you know, for some friends of mine.
I cannot give you many details. But here is what I can tell you.
This involves my friend TexasBlueBelle and her husband, BlueMan. Many years ago, in land not so far from here but in another life, BlueMan made some mistakes. He made a bad choice. In his own words, “God got a hold of him not long after, and he repented of that mistake.” He turned himself in to the authorities. He even spent some time in prison. He spent a longer time on parole. He spent even more time in counseling to ensure that he would never make that mistake again.
Now I did not know TexasBlueBelle or BlueMan when he made the bad choice. I met them afterwards, when he was on parole. I know that he will never make the bad choice again. I know that for many, many reasons which I cannot go into here. But suffice it to say that I know and trust both of them with my life.
His parole ended a few years ago and now he is free to move about the country. So things being what they are, TexasBlueBelle, BlueMan and their children picked up and moved about a month ago. Not too far from here, but to another state. They moved to the house of their dreams. Heck … it’s the house of my dreams. It’s a beautiful little house, with a gorgeous backyard … and a jacuzzi tub. They have wonderful neighbors, one on each side.
It’s the rest of the neighbors in the cul de sac who I must ask you pray for. They are making life exceedingly miserable for my friends and their family and now even their neighbors. They have found out about BlueMan’s bad choice. They have made ugly assumptions about him based on his past. They are posting “No Trespassing” signs in their yards. They are attempting to swear out restraining orders against him when he’s never said a word to them (they will find out when they get to the courthouse that he actually has to do something to get a restraining order … but that is beside the point). The powers and principalities have overtaken the cul de sac that my friends live on. Please pray for my friends. Pray that they will be able to live in peace there in the house of their dreams, with the gorgeous backyard … and jacuzzi tub. That they will be able to raise their children there and live a quiet life of peace.
A group of us are gathering in their home on Sunday afternoon to pray as well at 2 p.m. eastern time. If you feel lead to join your heart with us at that time, we’d appreciate it.
In the movie, the Wizard of Oz, Dorothy has quite a bit to overcome. She is dropped into a strange land, with even stranger occupants and given a truly weird mission. She must find her way, alone at first and then with a couple of really oddball traveling companions: The Scarecrow and the Tin Man. As darkness begins to fall, the forest through which they are walking begins to loom more and more frightening:
They enter a thick forest which immediately spooks and frightens Dorothy: “I don’t like this forest. It’s dark and creepy…Do you suppose we’ll meet any wild animals?” Worried that they will be attacked, the Tin Woodsman predicts the dark forest will be filled mostly with “lions and tigers and bears.” Dorothy: Lions? Scarecrow: And tigers? Tin Man: And bears! Dorothy: Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! As they march along the twisting road, fearfully repeating the phrase and rapidly gaining speed, a ferocious-looking Cowardly Lion (Bert Lahr) with a matted mane and two tiny ears bounds into their path with a strange roar: “Rrowrrrr!” Both the Tin Man and the Scarecrow back away and are cowering on the ground. Then, the lion stands on two feet and challenges them with his two paws, bravado and elongated words: Lion: Put ’em up, put ’em uuuuuup! Which one of you first? I’ll fight ya both together if you want. I’ll fight ya with one paw tied behind my back. I’ll fight ya standin’ on one foot. I’ll fight ya with my eyes closed. (To the Tin Woodsman) Oh, pulling an axe on me, hey? (To the Scarecrow) Sneakin’ up on me, hey? Why, gnong-gnong! Tin Man: Here, here. Go away and let us alone! Lion: Oh, scared, huh? Afraid, huh? (To the Tin Woodsman) How long can you stay fresh in that can? Ha-ha-ha-ha. Come on, get up and fight, ya shivering junkyard. (To the Scarecrow) Put your hands up, ya lopsided bag of hay. Scarecrow: Now that’s getting personal, Lion! Tin Man: Yes, get up and teach him a lesson. Scarecrow: What’s wrong with you teachin’ him? Tin Man: W-w-w-ell, I hardly know ‘im. From filmsite.org review by Tim Dirks
They enter a thick forest which immediately spooks and frightens Dorothy: “I don’t like this forest. It’s dark and creepy…Do you suppose we’ll meet any wild animals?” Worried that they will be attacked, the Tin Woodsman predicts the dark forest will be filled mostly with “lions and tigers and bears.”
Dorothy: Lions? Scarecrow: And tigers? Tin Man: And bears! Dorothy: Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!
As they march along the twisting road, fearfully repeating the phrase and rapidly gaining speed, a ferocious-looking Cowardly Lion (Bert Lahr) with a matted mane and two tiny ears bounds into their path with a strange roar: “Rrowrrrr!” Both the Tin Man and the Scarecrow back away and are cowering on the ground. Then, the lion stands on two feet and challenges them with his two paws, bravado and elongated words:
Lion: Put ’em up, put ’em uuuuuup! Which one of you first? I’ll fight ya both together if you want. I’ll fight ya with one paw tied behind my back. I’ll fight ya standin’ on one foot. I’ll fight ya with my eyes closed. (To the Tin Woodsman) Oh, pulling an axe on me, hey? (To the Scarecrow) Sneakin’ up on me, hey? Why, gnong-gnong! Tin Man: Here, here. Go away and let us alone! Lion: Oh, scared, huh? Afraid, huh? (To the Tin Woodsman) How long can you stay fresh in that can? Ha-ha-ha-ha. Come on, get up and fight, ya shivering junkyard. (To the Scarecrow) Put your hands up, ya lopsided bag of hay. Scarecrow: Now that’s getting personal, Lion! Tin Man: Yes, get up and teach him a lesson. Scarecrow: What’s wrong with you teachin’ him? Tin Man: W-w-w-ell, I hardly know ‘im.
From filmsite.org review by Tim Dirks
It’s a familiar scene to those of us who have seen the movie many times. In actuality, because the movie is a classic the scene has been translated into many other movies across the years and we have seen it again and again with different characters and different backdrops, but a similar lead-in and outcome.
It was a dark and scary night. The hero or heroine could not get their mind off of what was scaring them. So they kept repeating the scary thing over and over to themselves. This makes the scary thing bigger and bigger and bigger. Until what might have been conquered has now become a monster of mythic proportions. There is no getting past this hulking beast.
So what does that have to do with pagans and heathens? Quite a bit I think.
You see, I have this theory. My theory goes like this. People are people. We’re all pretty much alike. We have similar dreams for our lives and our loved ones and our children. We have similar struggles. We overcome similar hurdles.
I first encountered this theory when I was quite young. I read a biography of the Federal Era portrait painter, Gilbert Stuart. He is best known for painting George Washington. I don’t remember very much about the the book except for this. He was once staying in a hotel with an older man. He was nervous about something that was coming up. The older man gave him the advice that he could allay some of his fears by remembering that, “all men put their pants on one leg at at time.” Along with Gilbert, it took me awhile to puzzle that one out. But it has served me well all my life.
All men (and women) put their pants on one leg at a time. We all eat breakfast. We all, at our core, are more similar than we are different. Parents want their children to grow up healthy and happy, fall in love and do well in their chosen field. No parent dreams of their child growing up to become homeless or unhappy when they first hold that tiny baby in their arms. We all want good things for our children, for our schools, our communities, our country.
Yet what I have seen happening in our churches is like the scene from the Wizard of Oz. As we have progressed from modernism to post-modernism in the past 50 years, the church has responded in fear; chanting the things it fears over and over and over again. The people who go to the churches have thus created monsters out of their neighbors. The very people who they are to love as themselves, they grow to fear and hate because the chant every Sunday is …
Heathens …
Pagans …
Witches …
oh my!
Keep your children safe. Bring them here. Do not associate with those evil doers.
But Jesus commanded us to love our neighbors as ourselves. But if we have locked ourselves away in our churches and made our neighbors into monsters, how can we do that? How can we begin to understand who they are? The things they love, what makes them tick if we don’t begin to know them.
They are NOT heathens and pagans and witches, oh my! They are people … they put their pants on one leg at a time.
***********************************************
Here are the most excellent thoughts of the rest of the Syncrobloggers this month:
Matthew Stone at Journeys in Between Christianity, Paganism, and Literature at Notes from the Underground John Smulo at JohnSmulo.com Sam Norton at Elizaphanian Erin Word at Decompressing Faith Chasing the Wild Goose at Eternal Echoes Visigoths Ahoy! at Mike’s Musings Belief and Being: The difficulty of communicating faith at Phil Wyman’s Square No More Steve Hollinghurst at On Earth as in Heaven Undefined Desire at Igneous Quill A Walk on the Wild Side at Out of the Cocoon Observations on Magic in Western Religion at My Contemplations Tim Abbott at Tim Abbott Spirituality and the Zodiac: Stories in the Cosmos at Be the Revolution Rejection, Redemption, and Roots at One Hand Clapping
It is a day I will always remember and yet I struggle to forget. I want it to be a day like any other day. It was the first day that we had PlusOneFriend over to play. We had just begun homeschooling and his mother had recently had a surgery. So we picked him up to play for the day. On the way home I stopped to pick up some groceries. As I came through the door, the phone was ringing and three children plus groceries slowed me down. It was my sister-in-law. She said, “What the hell’s going on down there?” I thought this was in reference to how long it took me to get to the phone. So I told what was going on in my tiny little life. No. A plane just flew into the Pentagon. Oh. That’s made up. Surely that didn’t happen. I turned on the television in front of three sets of impressionable eyes just in time to see the second plane hit the second tower. And not one of us could fathom what was happening. It didn’t make any sense. So we sat and watched for hours until somehow it made sense. I sat on the phone with LightHusband … the only connection he and his co-workers had with the outside world until they were released to go home.
In a sense, though, this should be a day like any other. Terrible things happened six years ago today. But terrible things happen every day. Seismic shifts happen in peoples lives every day and the world does not stop, sit up and take notice. The world just drifts right on by. I did a little (very little) research before I sat down to write this post. As of this year there have been 673 coalition deaths in Afghanistan. Depending on which source you look at … some say as few as 617. It is extremely difficult to find any data on civilian deaths in Operation Enduring Freedom. From what little I can gather, it would be safe to say that approximately 4,000 civilians have died in Afghanistan since October 2001. This number does not include any Afghani Taliban, Al Qaeda, or insurgent deaths. I haven’t been able to find any data on that at all. So the seismic shifts that happened to us on September 11 would now seem to have been equalized. We have gone to the country of their origin, terrorized and killed an equal number of their civilians. But equal justice was not enough. We had to get more. So we went to Iraq. The number of coalition dead there is now 3,774. The number of Iraqi dead is equally difficult to determine. Some number it in the hundreds of thousands, others in the simple thousands. This article in Wikipedia does a good job of presenting the evidence from many perspectives.
On any given day in this country, approximately 117 people die in generic automobile accidents. The world of their families just seismically shifted. Of those approximately 117 people, 41% of those automobile accidents are alcohol related … so 48 of those accidents are not accidents at all. They could (without too much stretch) be likened to terrorism. If one or both drivers had not consumed alcohol, the accident probably would not have happened and people would not die. Yet, we do not take out after drunken drivers with guns, seeking justice in an eye for eye Old Testament fashion. We allow for time and season to heal our wounds, if ever they can. We allow the justice system to work for us. We hope that God will step in for us. That in this world or the next, at some point, the scales will be evened … though we may never know it.
Last year throughout the world 2.9 million people … men, women and children died as result of being infected with the AIDS virus. Those families … those mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, children … their worlds just seismically shifted. All for the lack of some very cheap … very inexpensive drugs.
Isaiah 59 4;7-15 4 No one calls for justice; no one pleads his case with integrity. They rely on empty arguments and speak lies; they conceive trouble and give birth to evil. …… 7 Their feet rush into sin; they are swift to shed innocent blood. Their thoughts are evil thoughts; ruin and destruction mark their ways. 8 The way of peace they do not know; there is no justice in their paths. They have turned them into crooked roads; no one who walks in them will know peace. 9 So justice is far from us, and righteousness does not reach us. We look for light, but all is darkness; for brightness, but we walk in deep shadows. 10 Like the blind we grope along the wall, feeling our way like men without eyes. At midday we stumble as if it were twilight; among the strong, we are like the dead. 11 We all growl like bears; we moan mournfully like doves. We look for justice, but find none; for deliverance, but it is far away. 12 For our offenses are many in your sight, and our sins testify against us. Our offenses are ever with us, and we acknowledge our iniquities: 13 rebellion and treachery against the LORD, turning our backs on our God, fomenting oppression and revolt, uttering lies our hearts have conceived. 14 So justice is driven back, and righteousness stands at a distance; truth has stumbled in the streets, honesty cannot enter. 15 Truth is nowhere to be found, and whoever shuns evil becomes a prey. The LORD looked and was displeased that there was no justice.
Isaiah 59 4;7-15 4 No one calls for justice; no one pleads his case with integrity. They rely on empty arguments and speak lies; they conceive trouble and give birth to evil.
…… 7 Their feet rush into sin; they are swift to shed innocent blood. Their thoughts are evil thoughts; ruin and destruction mark their ways.
8 The way of peace they do not know; there is no justice in their paths. They have turned them into crooked roads; no one who walks in them will know peace.
9 So justice is far from us, and righteousness does not reach us. We look for light, but all is darkness; for brightness, but we walk in deep shadows.
10 Like the blind we grope along the wall, feeling our way like men without eyes. At midday we stumble as if it were twilight; among the strong, we are like the dead.
11 We all growl like bears; we moan mournfully like doves. We look for justice, but find none; for deliverance, but it is far away.
12 For our offenses are many in your sight, and our sins testify against us. Our offenses are ever with us, and we acknowledge our iniquities:
13 rebellion and treachery against the LORD, turning our backs on our God, fomenting oppression and revolt, uttering lies our hearts have conceived.
14 So justice is driven back, and righteousness stands at a distance; truth has stumbled in the streets, honesty cannot enter.
15 Truth is nowhere to be found, and whoever shuns evil becomes a prey. The LORD looked and was displeased that there was no justice.
It all began with a confession of sorts. Now I’ve witnessed some confessions before. The really heartfelt ones bring all witnesses to their knees. I saw one last night on (of all places) Law & Order – Criminal Intent. In this particular episode a nun confessed her part in a vicious hate crime that had taken place seventeen years earlier. She had spent the intervening years working out her penance in the convent; getting and keeping girls off the mean streets of NYC. But she had willingly and with malice helped to beat a black teen senseless and it had left him in a near vegetative state for years. He was about to die as a result of his wounds. I doubt I will ever be enough of a writer to describe for you the heart that went into her confession. I’ve seen it several times now and it brings me to tears each time.
It was a confession. A verbal description of the wrong done. It was complete with details and full disclosure of the depravity of the moment. It also included an understanding of wrong and growth in grace. The last thing that it included was a full comprehension that no matter how much grace, mercy or forgiveness God may give, there are still lasting consequences for ill behavior in the kingdom of men. The nun understood that giving her confession in the presence of police officers and a district attorney meant that it was “on the record.” The district attorney told her that it would be sealed and in the event of the victim’s death, homicide charges would be filed against her and the men who had committed the hate crime. She squared her shoulders, a weight seemed to lift from her and she looked him in the eye, “I’ll be there this time. But now I must tend to my girls.”
There has been a discussion carrying on in other realms of the blogosphere about another confession by Gary Smalley that occurred in the near past. Apparently, he did a lot of his writing while his heart wasn’t in it. But … he’s all better now. Okay. So I’m not really certain what’s so sinful about that. Writing was his job. A lot of people do their job when their heart isn’t in it. Perhaps what he really needs is a new job. But that’s not the point of this post. I’m going to summarize by quoting from Brother Maynard, because it gets me where I want to go most quickly and it gives the links most succinctly and then I can get on with my point without boring you, my dear reader, to tears:
Brant Hansen opines on the recovery of Gary Smalley, noting how Gary went from all-good to was-bad-but-now-all-good without any real mention of what came between … the “bad” part. The IMonk takes note and adds on about the cult of Christian celebrity, somewhat tongue-in-cheek at points: “If you believe the entire Christian celebrity culture is a dangerous and polluted waste of mind, heart and money, you must just want to be difficult.” Put me down for just wanting to be difficult. Just tuned in? At issue is the way in which the Christian culture makes celebrities of people, and the way that they ignore stories of people who struggle, waiting for them to “get better” and come back with a great recovery story. Everyone loves a good recovery story … but nobody wants to hear about sin before it’s become a thing of the past. Quick primer: I struggled. good. I’m struggling. not good. Basically, sin isn’t an acceptable subject unless you’ve gotten over it. We want to hear about current victories over past sin, not current struggles with present sin. If you’re still sinning, go away and come back when you’ve gotten over it and have your life back together.
Brant Hansen opines on the recovery of Gary Smalley, noting how Gary went from all-good to was-bad-but-now-all-good without any real mention of what came between … the “bad” part. The IMonk takes note and adds on about the cult of Christian celebrity, somewhat tongue-in-cheek at points: “If you believe the entire Christian celebrity culture is a dangerous and polluted waste of mind, heart and money, you must just want to be difficult.” Put me down for just wanting to be difficult.
Just tuned in? At issue is the way in which the Christian culture makes celebrities of people, and the way that they ignore stories of people who struggle, waiting for them to “get better” and come back with a great recovery story. Everyone loves a good recovery story … but nobody wants to hear about sin before it’s become a thing of the past.
Quick primer:
I struggled.
good.
I’m struggling.
not good.
Basically, sin isn’t an acceptable subject unless you’ve gotten over it. We want to hear about current victories over past sin, not current struggles with present sin. If you’re still sinning, go away and come back when you’ve gotten over it and have your life back together.
That’s from Bro. M’s “Come Back When You Have An “After” Story, Okay?” At some point that is a must read as well as the comment thread (in which you will see me confess to using colorful language … but shhhh … it’s a secret 😉 )
I’ve been mulling this over. This idea of forgiveness and grace and mercy and judgement. Confession and sin. How does it all work together? How do we mete it out here in the corporal world? Which is vastly different from how God metes it all out and can the two be the same? Are we humans indeed at all capable of being forgiving on that level? What kind of vulnerability does it require on the part of the confessee and the confessor?
I’m wondering about the issues that we consider “sin” … what are they? Most often they are the things that hurt one another. There are the various lists in the Bible … the big 10, and the issues laid out by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount. Interestingly, Jesus focuses on ideas and words, and I harken back to that childhood nursery rhyme, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me.” This called out to dull the effect of name-calling and bullying in the schoolyard. We all grow up and begin to understand that words can hurt … they cut deeper than any knife and the pain can last a lifetime. I think this is what Jesus is speaking to in his instructions to the adulterer and murder in the Sermon on the Mount … just thinking about a woman in lust is leaving your wife and simply thinking about a person less than you is committing murder. Think deeply about those two concepts for a moment. Stop right here and do that. If you keep reading, I’ll walk you through it. If you are so certain that another person is alien enough to be called a fool, then they are “other” enough to be killed and you may as well have committed the act itself. Once you have degraded another person to the level of fool in your mind, you have become capable of killing them. That is the logic of Jesus. Now think about how we hear the likes of Hitler, Stalin and other military leaders speak of the “enemy” … the logic of Jesus makes eminent sense.
So, why do we have such a problem with the in-between times? Why don’t we want to walk with the hurting? We all love a great freedom story, but we don’t like the underground railroad. We don’t want to walk the thousand miles with the slaves to freedom, we just want to get there … as if beamed up by Scotty on the USS Enterprise. No mis-steps in between, no muddy swamps, no hard cold forest floors slept in, no musty moldy hay ricks, no cramped attic spaces, no fear, no sweat, no losing our way because the night sky is lost in clouds, no getting caught by slave catchers … nope none of that for us … just nice and clean, “Beam me up Scotty, I’m done with that sin now, … God gave me a miracle.”
I have a theory about that … beam me up is easy. It’s immediate gratification. Our culture is famous for that. We get to eat dessert first. Our family visits to Vermont every summer from Virginia. Every summer I wish for a transporter room. But I think I wouldn’t appreciate camp nearly as much without the ten hour drive to get there … as painful as it is. Beyond the immediate gratification though lies another deeper issue. And that is that if we acknowledge to another that they struggle with an issue, we must acknowledge to ourselves that we struggle. Then we must acknowledge to others that we struggle. We must let down the facade that all is not right in our perfect world.
To step a bit further down this spiral staircase we must then acknowledge that we cannot understand another’s pain. Nor can we comprehend the grace and mercy they have extended to us. Allow me to explain. In any relationship there comes a time when the two (or more) parties come to harm. Whether it is through malice or obtuseness it matters not. There may or may not be apologies or confessions and extensions of grace and forgiveness. Over time the hurt builds on both sides. In a Jesus-following relationship there may be accusations made that include something along the lines of, “Don’t worry about the mote in my eye, worry about the log in yours.” Oh. Well. Both (or more) parties begin to feel quite put upon. Someone might say, “Can’t you extend any grace?” And it is in this instance we can see that both (or more) parties have extended quite a bit of grace and forgiveness, but none can see the totality of it. They can see the grace and mercy they have each extended, but not what has been given to them. Nor can can any of the parties understand the pain that they have all inflicted on one another, they can only comprehend their own pain.
That long dark walk on the underground railroad from slavery to freedom must be done in community. There are stops on the way. There are conductors who point out the safe havens for rest and the places which must be avoided because the hounds had been loosed. There are rare instances when Scotty (God) might beam us up, but I think S/He means for us to walk the road together, learning to live in the messy existence when it’s the journey that counts. That we learn, slowly and surely who to trust on our walk to freedom. Who can be the conductors and who are the slave catchers. Who is watching for that everpresent North Star calling out to us for freedom.
… and what am I learning lately.
This is a new synchroblog co-ordinated by Glenn Hager at Re-dreaming the Dream. I learned about it from Erin. The theme resonates with a lot of the thinking I’ve been doing lately, so I thought I’d participate.
So here’s my list … in no particular order other than the order in which I thought of them.
– I learned that women are second class citizens in God’s economy.
– I learned that the Bible can be used like statistics … to prove anything that the user wants it to prove. It’s not a beacon of love; it’s a weapon to bludgeon people with.
– I learned that faith and religion are interchangeable.
– I learned that Jesus is a Republican and I’d better be too or my salvation would be null and void. I also learned that Jesus is a free-market capitalist who looked down on welfare cheats because they leached off the system.
– I learned that America is now God’s promised land and we are God’s new people.
– I learned that church is just like any other social group … only it’s rules are more strict and they’ll exclude you in a flash if you break them.
What I’m learning lately … is there is no second-class … or first-class … in God’s economy. We are all on equal footing, equal creations in the eyes of the Creator. There is no separate but equal to Her. There is just, is. We just are. We are just created. Different, yes. But that does not mean that some get to do some things and others not … that does not mean that all can sin equally but that all cannot serve equally. We are indeed equal … equally loved, equally serving, equally gifted. Anything else is a lie.
I cannot discern how to use the Bible as anything other than a love letter to me. I rarely use it in conversation anymore. There are bits and pieces that are meaningful to me and I might quote those, as people quote poetry or other pieces of literature that are meaningful. But using proof texts and finding pieces that “prove” my point in a legal argument seems to miss the mark of God’s intent with his Word to us.
I’m losing my religion and keeping my faith … in large part because it seems that people in charge of the church lied. They are way more interested in keeping their own patch of turf than in understanding God or Jesus or the Holy Spirit and passing the understanding on.
Well … Jesus and politics or economics just stands on it’s own. He pretty much spoke out against the powers of his age and I’m certain he’d speak out against Republicans AND Democrats now.
God only has one promised land and promised people. Israel. Now. Here’s the kicker. He sent the Israelites out of the Promised Land around 2,000 years ago and He hasn’t brought them back. So a lot of the current troubles that are happening in the Middle East. Yeah. Those are man made. I could write a book … no, several books … on why the current Middle East troubles have nothing whatsoever to do with God bringing the Jews back to Israel and everything to do with men doing it. No, I’m not a conspiracy theorist or anything. It’s just that God was not in that. People were. So there will not be any peace or redemption or reconciliation. There will be war. And as for the US … we are not God’s promised land or promised people despite any songs we might sing or secret ambitions we might have. We’re just lucky. There but for the grace of God go us; we really ought to be a little more grateful, and a little less arrogant.
I learned in the Bible that church is supposed to be Christ’s Bride, His Body here on earth. I learned in church that it’s just another social group with strict social rules that need to be followed in order to be included. It’s part of the faith vs. religion thing. But all churches are social groups. All of them. In order to be part of one, you must follow the rules. The first rule is that they are not really Jesus followers. That’s only part of the show. If you really want to be a Jesus follower, you’d do best to leave the church and do that on your own time. The church is too busy with their own parties … err ministries … to bother with the things that Jesus talks about. Above all … don’t ever ask anyone to talk to God about what they’re doing. Don’t ever suggest that anyone in leadership pray to God about their participation in an issue. Don’t ever suggest that following Jesus might mean stopping and listening sometimes. Don’t think outside the box. Don’t ask questions. Don’t quibble with leaders. Don’t be free. I’m learning that on my own it’s just possible that I might be able to hear God again. Maybe. I hope so. I’ve been missing him.
UPDATE (Aug 5):
Here’s a list of all the folks who participated in this synchroblog … they’ve got a lot of great things to say, but make sure you read Glen’s Summary here … it’s really, really good:
Glenn @ Re-dreaming the Dream: Synchroblog (Introduction)
Erin @ Decompressing Faith: Think Of It As “Agapeology.â€
Alan @ The Assembling of the Church: Here I Am To Worship.
Heather @ A Deconstructed Christian: 15 Things I Learned From and Another 15 I Am Learning Lately
Jim @ Lord, I Believe; Help My Unbelief : Some Ecclesiastical Paradoxes
Lew @ The Pursuit: It’s A Grace vs. Works Thing
Lyn @ Beyond the 4 Walls: Learning To be “Properâ€
Paul @ One For The Road : A Gracious Voice
Benjamin @ Justice and Compassion: Pithy and Provocative
Julie @ Onehandclapping: Faith, Certainty, and Tom Cruise
Aaron @ Regenerate: Hope
Monte @ Monte Asbury’s Blog: Jesus Doesn’t Matter Much
Rachael @ Justice and Compassion Rachael Stanton
Glenn @ Re-dreaming the Dream: Unsaid Communication
Glenn @ Re-dreaming the Dream: Reflections About Refugees (Summary Reflection)
I remember when this came out. It was one of R.E.M.’s biggest hits. I wasn’t listening to very much R.E.M. at the time, but I’d really liked them at an earlier time in my life. When this song came out, I was firmly entrenched in conservative evangelicalism, and R.E.M. was definitely on the “do not listen to” list. I know I heard the song because I still secretly liked them and couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong with them. I understood the ban on groups like Red Hot Chili Peppers (even though I still liked them too), but R.E.M.? I didn’t get why adults were getting their panties in a wad over this. I got it in terms of that verse about only contemplating things that are holy, good, pure, true, etc. But … still … wtf? I didnt get it.
So I heard the song and loved it … but it scared me. Losing my religion. What would happen to me if I ever lost my religion? Where would my underpinings go? What would it look like to not have religion? It was a frightening thought. I was comfortable with my religion at the time … comfortable enough, that is. Comfortable, if I didn’t think to carefully or deeply.
In 1998, LightHusband had a back injury that threw him into a downward spiral of pain and suffering that would not end. It was a seemingly intractable injury that had no cause and for all intents and purposes, no cure. He ended up leaving the Army because of the injury after three years of doctor’s visits, two years on narcotics to control the pain, and several experimental courses of treatment that further aggravated his injury. At the very end of the journey we finally got a diagnosis … he is hypermobile and his ligaments had not held his sacro-iliac joint stable. The injury he had sustained is normally only seen in pregnant women and people who have been in front-end automobile collisions. In his case, it had been a repetitive use injury from wearing his drum for 18 years.
To say that I prayed during those three years would be an understatement. And yet, it would also be a lie. I prayed at first. I prayed as though my life depended on it … because in some ways it did. But my prayers did no good. They did nothing. They did not change our situation. They did not change me. They did not change God. They did nothing. Except create a very bitter knot in my heart. I finally gave up praying. I told my friends that they could pray if they wanted, but I was done. I left off the last part of that sentence, because it’s heresy in the conservative evangelical church. But I was done. I was too angry to pray. I just wanted to leave town.
I wanted to leave town. Leave the church. Leave this stupid God who does stupid horrid things like this. Or if he doesn’t do them, He allows them and doesn’t give us any answers. He allows huge tsunamis to rise up and kill thousands on a holiday. He allows hurricanes like Katrina. He allows babies to snatch our hearts and then they die without warning in the midst of the night.
John Smulo wrote a post several days ago asking about how do we defend God to our well-meaning friends and relatives who ask about this. Who ask how we can still have faith in a God who either does such things or allows such things and does nothing to repair them? As I tried to answer that question, I found I have none. There is no explaining why I still have faith.
I believe that I have lost my religion. But I still have my faith. Somewhere in the midst of it all … between then and now … I lost my religion. It’s in tatters. That has been a frightening thing. It’s also been sad. But I still have my faith in God, in Jesus, in the Holy Spirit.
Truthfully, what little I know of God does not give me the evidence to defend Him in the face of all the evil in the world. I have no “blessed assurance” that I’m going to some pearly gates when I die. I have none of that anymore. What I do have is this … the knowledge that there is a God and that S/He loves me and desires some sort of communion with me; indeed with all of us. I’m not certain what that communion looks like, but I’m damn sure it’s more than a cracker crumb and a dribble of grape juice. I do know that whatever S/He is, S/He is much, much, much larger than anything anyone of us can imagine. And Her vision of how justice will be played out is likely to be much, much different from mine … which is probably a good thing too.
I don’t defend God anymore. The way I figure it, if God really did create the universe She can defend herself. There’s not much I can say in his defense. Most people have made up their minds and legal arguments aren’t going to change them … hell … legal arguments rarely sway people in a court room, why should they work in a space as delicate as our beliefs about our origins. The thought is sort of silly.
Losing my religion … I’m slowly but surely turning my back on church as I know it. The church as described by Jesus in the Gospels is a beautiful place … a place I’d like to be part of. So is the church that Paul describes in his epistles. But once Constantine got his grubby hands on religion and the state took hold of things … well … I want to say, I never knew you. It’s not a place that has any room left for God or Jesus or the Holy Spirit. It’s a place that tears people apart, chews them up, leaders use their followers and followers use their leaders — all to their own ends.
I read the gut-wrenching article by William Lobdell from the LATimes and thought, “I get it. I understand what he thinks.” I’m not where he is, I don’t think I’d make the decisions he made. But I understand them. I understand that eventually you cannot maintain that level of cognitive dissonance between what Jesus teaches and what the church teaches and call yourself a Christ follower.
I have no idea where my journey will take me next. I am in the waiting place. I am waiting to hear from God about what to do and where to go next.
