Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Trust is a Hard Thing

I should believe things will turn out better than alright - that they will be wonderful. And part of me thinks that. But part of me is struggling to believe even as I repeat these ideas regularly to myself.

Even after so many people have come up to bat on our behalf, and all the amazing support we've been given with the crazy financial things going on in our lives, I'm still struggling to believe that something will manifest.

And I'm the "positive one" in my marriage. Just imagine what Christian's thinking.

I know there are tons of people around us praying and sending positive thoughts our way. I know that, both intellectually and emotionally. I feel it quite often. And I thank God daily for the amazing community that we found in the church we attend, as well as my father's church.

Thing is, that's not enough.

I'm a hungry person - not my stomach - but my mind and soul. I need a lot. I need regular reassurance. I need regular affirmation. I'm open to how it comes - I don't care what vessel or form it takes, but I do need it. When I have to go without reassurance or affirmation for a period of time, I begin to doubt. I begin to lose hope and faith. I go dark.

In the midst of the worst part of our summer's crisis, I was getting a lot of those reassurances and affirmations in all kinds of ways from people and from God. But now that things have settled into a dangerous balancing act, I feel a little like I've been left out in the cold. The result is I'm starting to stress out a bit more. I'm struggling a little bit more. I'm doubting a little bit more.

My hope is I'll be given another sign soon to lead me to the next step or whatever. That would be enough to carry me for a while, at least to see that step through. And somewhere deep down I know I will be given that sign. I've been pretty fortunate that way. But at the same time, part of me doubts.

It's hard to trust God will show us the next step. It's hard to have faith when we're in the middle of a difficult situation that doesn't seem to be changing. But it will change. There will be a next step, and when I'm shown it, I will take it. Because even if I doubt, ultimately, I trust the plan. And you should too.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

"Religion is for the Strong" or "Jesus the Bad-ass"

You're probably wondering how I could possibly have this title when I'm a Christian.

I'm not saying that only "strong" people can be people of faith - those perfect people who seem to have everything together and do everything right (i.e. 2.5 kids, dog, white picket fence, personal trainer and a 3 course meal every night). I'm not refuting Jesus' message of "blessed are the meek" or "blessed are the poor." I'm saying you really can't be religious without accepting the fact that religion will challenge you. Challenge is hard. Challenge requires determination and persistence.

This challenge comes in the form of asking tough questions (such as really engaging Jesus' messages and questioning how they can be applied in our lives) and requiring counter-culture actions (such as protesting unjust legislation or helping to build sustainable communities for the poor).

You can't be weak-minded and be a person of faith - not if you're truly a person of faith.

I don't mean that a person who has struggled in life and has been beaten down wouldn't be able to be a person of faith. In fact, that person, tempered and honed by experience is probably more likely to be strong in faith than not. Having your faith regularly tested is kind of like leveling up in a video game - every fight becomes an easy win after a while.

Strength comes in many different forms, but the kind that is required for faith and commitment to a community like a church requires some serious thought and engagement with scripture.

I've been saying these kinds of things for years, but it's nice to read some others' words echoing my own feelings on the subject. It seems a lot of people who are currently atheist became atheist because the Church made a mistake. They dumbed-down the message of the gospel. They pandered. They sold-out. However you want to put it, they stopped pushing the strong counter-culture message of Jesus and started putting up some kind of "Buddy Christ" idea for mass consumption, thinking this would be more attractive.

But Buddy Christ is a joke. No one respects this guy.

My Jesus is the Jesus who called authorities on the carpet with quick thinking. My Jesus is the Jesus who made a whip and chased the money lenders out of the temple and flipped their tables. My Jesus is the one who spent time with the people who were the least valued by society and showed them compassion and love. My Jesus is the Jesus who said rich people can't go to heaven because they're too attached to their things.

My Jesus is a bad-ass. He might piss you off. He might humiliate you in front of your peers. He might cry openly in front of hundreds of people. But whatever he does, he does it completely.

That's a guy I can get behind - a guy people respect.

This is the message, the focus the Church needs to return to. And it pisses people off. It makes people uncomfortable. But here's the thing - it's the only way for the Church to be. This is how you build a community - not by making things easy, but by expecting more from people.

Think about your favorite teacher in school. It wasn't the guy who put movies on all the time and then gave you worksheets to fill out. It was the person who demanded more from you - who asked you tough questions and forced you to do things you never would have otherwise. It was the teacher who called you to his or her desk after class and talked to you - asking you point blank why you weren't doing your best. And honestly this was the class you wanted to come to every day - not the worksheet/movie class.

The Church needs to be like our favorite teachers. We need to embrace Jesus the Bad-ass and share him with everyone around us. We need to ask tough questions and call people on the carpet when they're not doing their best. We need to try things we've never tried before...and then, only then, will we truly reflect the Kingdom of God.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Even Atheists Should Go To Church

I have a friend who is an atheist. Actually, I have a number of friends who consider themselves to be atheists because I'm an equal opportunity friend. As long as you're a person who is interested in learning, growing, and trying to make the world a better place, I'm interested in possibly having you as a friend.

However, this particular atheist friend of mine is unusual in that he goes to church.

Let me repeat myself... I have an atheist friend who goes to church.

In fact, he was recruited to help make some structural changes in this church where he attends and so has been very active in the inner workings of this particular faith community. He even confessed to me that times when he's attended worship, he's found some interesting reflections in the sermon that were helpful to him in his life.

Is your mind blown yet? Because it shouldn't be.

Yes my friend doesn't believe in God. Despite this, he has found some major benefits and possibly some community in this particular church. You see, belief doesn't preclude benefits of participating in a community of faith.

A lot of people think that participating in a church or temple is somehow a bad thing. They think that being a member of such a local organization somehow ties them to all the bad things that come from institutions.

Yes, there will always be annoying politics and sniping and all of that. Of course. We're still talking about people here! And yes, people are flawed (just to remind you - so are you - so am I!). But beyond that, we're also talking about a group of people who care for one another. This is how, even though I've only been attending my current church since April, they're throwing us a baby shower this Sunday. This is how even though we've been attending since April, I get hugs from multiple people every Sunday morning.

This is why faith communities are so great.

This is why even an atheist benefits from attending church. Because ultimately, the belief thing doesn't really matter. You can believe whatever you want alone in your room somewhere. No one knows...and no one has to care. BUT...you can't get that love and support that comes from community without well, community. Your thinking can't be challenged without some influx of differing ideas coming your way. These are the things that don't happen when you're alone in your room. These are things that happen at church.

I'm not saying you should go to just any church or temple. They all feel very different and each has their own way of doing things (It's a lot easier to believe whatever you want in a Quaker or Baptist community than say a Catholic or Pentecostal community, for example.). However there is a faith community that will fit with you. It won't be perfect, but none of us are. There will be things that may make you cringe. Hopefully one of them is your passion, and you can get hooked in and make something great happen even if no one there believes exactly the same thing you do. 

Friday, August 9, 2013

I'm Not a Minister, I Just Act Like One

I'm not a minister...I'm not a minister...I'm not a minister.

Right.

As I've said many times, in many places, I am not a minister. Except, I am.

Damn it.

I'm not a minister...I'm not a minister...

In the past few months I came to a strange conclusion, and it's not exactly an easy one to admit. It might even sound strange to someone who doesn't have any ministers in their family.

I've been acting like a minister for my entire life.

You see, ministers and their families live incredibly political and highly scrutinized existences. When you grow up as a pastor's kid (or PK) you internalize (or rebel against) all the accompanying expectations of being in such an environment.

While I was anything but perfect, I did a good job of towing the family line. In fact, I did such a good job, I ended up taking on the role of minister without realizing it.

I'll give you a few examples.

I'm interested in religion, always have been (probably would have been even if my parents weren't ordained clergy). I have a couple shelves worth of books devoted to religion generally as well as religious texts. I know a fair amount about the subject. As such, people ask me questions. I end up giving impromptu lessons on the differences between protestantism and Catholicism all the time. I teach people the differences between Southern Baptists and American Baptists regularly. I can explain the similarities between the big 6 (the six most influential world faiths), and on a good day, the differences.

But that's kind of expected. That's not the worst of my informal ministerial role.

The worst is I don't have close friends. I mean, I do. I have people that I consider close to me, and people who are important to me, but I never reveal myself completely to these people. There are always pieces of me that are hidden. No one knows the whole story (I mean, if you want to get technical no one can, but you understand what I mean?). I hide things. It's not that I don't consciously trust them. I do...consciously. It's just that subconsciously I'm acting as a minister. Ministers don't become "friends" with people in their churches. They are "friendly." There is always a barrier between ministers and their congregants. They are always professional, even as they behave in friendly ways. They are counselors, advisors, teachers, and guides, but never - never are they "friends."

The problem is I don't have a church...so...I act that way with everyone (except my family).

I've had people call me after years of not speaking asking for advice. I even slip into the role of counselor with people that I've known for years. I do it without thinking about it. It's only when I'm half done giving advice that I realized what I've done.

And before I know it, I've taken on that role with that person.

It sucks.

Now that I recognize this in myself, I'm not entirely sure what to do. It is a natural state for me. I do it well (I mean, I was sort of bred this way). Taking down walls with people who I feel close to is difficult. I've been doing this for so long it's a struggle to bare my vulnerabilities and concerns to people I would call close friends. I'm not sure when I should turn this state "on" and when it should go "off." The whole thing is scary.

I wonder now if the personal difficulties I've had this summer are a way for me to learn how to be close to people - to let someone else take care of me in the way I've been caring for others all my life. It might be one of the lessons I'm supposed to learn (though Lord knows it's hard). Even if it's not the main lesson, it is certainly something I need to practice. Who knows? I might actually figure out how to be a regular person. What a thought!

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Going Through the Motions is Good

In the last 10 years I've had more than a few moments of doubt. Each crisis of faith has been intense, difficult, and often downright painful.

In one particular crisis of faith, I remember that I started writing my godfather with questions. I was really struggling and I wanted to talk to someone other than my parents (who have, for the majority of my life, served as both my parents and pastors...which is more than a little awkward). My godfather told me something that has stuck with me.

Sometimes you just have to fake it til you make it.

In other words, everyone has doubts. Everyone has difficult times. Yet if you are disciplined and work through the struggle, the questions, and whatever thoughts and feelings running through your mind, then you'll come out the other side with a strong faith.

Faith requires discipline. It isn't easy. It isn't for the weak. It is for the strong. It is for the determined - the persistent. And yes, sometimes this means going through the motions without really feeling the faith. It's kind of like marriage.

Sometimes in marriage you want to strangle your partner. Sometimes you want to run away, or play the field. But here's the thing - you don't. You stick with it. You deal with whatever issues have come up and you keep going. And then when you come out the other side, your relationship is stronger than ever.

This is the way of things.

Unfortunately it's a path that is frequently forgotten and despised by society at large. But I'm here to say it's worth pursuing. It's worth going through the motions to maintain faith until it is restored - because trust me, it will be. I've been through this enough times to know. You won't regret your decision.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Getting Over Grudges

In the interest of not getting any particular person in trouble, I will not point out specific situations in the following discussion. I will speak in generalities. So humor me - it's less dangerous this way.

I have noticed that people take things personally.

Whopping surprise, isn't it? Wow, Alexis! People take things personally! Who would have thought?!

Yes, I know. It is common knowledge this is a problem for many individuals. However, this is not just an individual problem. Whenever we are part of a community the way we process information affects how we interact in that community and therefore, affects communal health.

You see where I'm going with this?

Let's examine the most problematic example in taking something personally - the grudge. Gah! I hate grudges! They eat people up inside and come out in passive aggressive and extremely hurtful ways. They can destroy a family or a community. They almost always destroy the person holding them, especially if the grudge is large enough. Grudges are poison, and poison spreads.

Often times the person holding the grudge won't even realize they're holding it. They won't realize their actions are being influenced by these feelings of hurt, anger, and resentment. They can't see how their words are being shaped into weapons, tearing people down, rather than tools meant to build people up.

So if you're in a community of faith and see someone else has a grudge, what do you do? Well, the most difficult thing (and the most necessary) is to get the person to admit their feelings. When they are voiced, they can be dealt with. Bringing things to the light of day allows for healing and cleansing. If you can't help this person deal with their feelings, find someone who can. You are likely not the only person to have observed their hurtful behavior.

Once the person has dealt with their grudge, then the next step is to help them realize actions are not personal. Even if they are, our reactions do not have to let them be personal. It is our choice how we react to a situation.  Choose wisely.