This Christmas season has been different for me. Due to busy weekends (a wedding! Disneyland!), I've been to church once in the last three weeks. I'm not sure I will get there Sunday and then it's Christmas Eve.
As a life long Church Chick, I have to say, this Christmas season has seemed very, well, dull, lifeless. I've felt like I'm going through the motions and it's not really Christmas. There are other circumstances surrounding that but by in large, the reason has become apparent. I've only gone to church once during Advent. There hasn't been any prelude, not gradual warm up to the season. I haven't sung "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" or "Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus". We haven't argued about singing the Christmas hymns too early or any of that. There is a Christmas sized hole in Christmas for me this year.
That's quite a revelation for this Church Chick. A Christmas sized hole is hard to fill. I bought gifts, I've decorated the house but it wasn't until I pulled out the guitar the other day in anticipation of the one Sunday morning Christmas service that I would be going to church (and leading the music) that it started to feel like Christmas. Hopefully by Christmas Eve when I stand in front of a congregation, again with guitar in hand, and lead in "Silent Night" that Christmas sized hole will be long gone...
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Belonging
For over a year I've had a hard time feeling like I belonged at church. Having left a job and thereby left a congregation that I had not only worked for but grown up in, this past year I've felt adrift. Yes, New Church has been welcoming, to a point, but I have never felt completely one of the crowd.
There was a time when I moved to college and went to church at a couple of different places. One place was too small, people really knew if you were there or weren't there. Another place was too big. I got too lost in that congregation. Another place I had made friends but it just wasn't the right place and so for a time I didn't go to church. It was good. Someone once argued that I had walked away from God during that time when really, what I had done was walk away from church where I couldn't find a place to belong.
Finding a place to belong is huge, especially when it comes to church. Finding a place where I feel accepted and welcomed, where the music is to my liking, where the preaching inspires and challenges me, where there is more hope than despair, the list could go on and on. I don't want to just go to a church, I want to belong.
The other day I was talking with someone who recently looked around their church and realized there was no one like them. There weren't people within their age range. Their spouse was the one who had first nudged them and said "look around" and the more they looked, the more they realized, they didn't belong there anymore. This person related that as they walked around the halls of the church they kept hearing "You don't belong here." Oh how I could relate.
The truth is, I heard that voice too, for a year or two before I actually listened to the voice and left. It was a tough time. I kept looking around at the people I loved, knowing I didn't belong there anymore but just not wanting to leave the place where I had once belonged. Staying because it's comfortable and you don't want to have to go anywhere different does not equal belonging, in case you were wondering. There were many moments when I looked, knowing I didn't belong anymore and still unable to leave the safety net of the church.
Which brings me back to now. Belonging in the church isn't just a matter of being known. For me belonging means I have a part in the church, that I can speak up and voice my opinion and still be respected and loved. For me, belonging means I missed when I'm not there, encouraged, supported and challenged when I am there and most of all it means that I am a part of the body of believers, not just a bystander.
There was a time when I moved to college and went to church at a couple of different places. One place was too small, people really knew if you were there or weren't there. Another place was too big. I got too lost in that congregation. Another place I had made friends but it just wasn't the right place and so for a time I didn't go to church. It was good. Someone once argued that I had walked away from God during that time when really, what I had done was walk away from church where I couldn't find a place to belong.
Finding a place to belong is huge, especially when it comes to church. Finding a place where I feel accepted and welcomed, where the music is to my liking, where the preaching inspires and challenges me, where there is more hope than despair, the list could go on and on. I don't want to just go to a church, I want to belong.
The other day I was talking with someone who recently looked around their church and realized there was no one like them. There weren't people within their age range. Their spouse was the one who had first nudged them and said "look around" and the more they looked, the more they realized, they didn't belong there anymore. This person related that as they walked around the halls of the church they kept hearing "You don't belong here." Oh how I could relate.
The truth is, I heard that voice too, for a year or two before I actually listened to the voice and left. It was a tough time. I kept looking around at the people I loved, knowing I didn't belong there anymore but just not wanting to leave the place where I had once belonged. Staying because it's comfortable and you don't want to have to go anywhere different does not equal belonging, in case you were wondering. There were many moments when I looked, knowing I didn't belong anymore and still unable to leave the safety net of the church.
Which brings me back to now. Belonging in the church isn't just a matter of being known. For me belonging means I have a part in the church, that I can speak up and voice my opinion and still be respected and loved. For me, belonging means I missed when I'm not there, encouraged, supported and challenged when I am there and most of all it means that I am a part of the body of believers, not just a bystander.
Monday, October 1, 2012
What does it mean to want Young Families in church?
New Church has a Pastoral Candidate coming next Sunday. There are several Meet-n-Greets set up over the weekend to get to know him and hear what he has to say. I can't make any of them but the Sunday morning time. I already feel bad for the Pastoral Candidate because as he walks into the church there are expectations in place that he will be, well, the savior of the church. The hope, by some, is that he will be younger and will attract younger families to the church, which is a lovely thought. I'm afraid the reality is something those who are hoping for younger families don't really want to face.
For, as I see it, the reality is that to attract younger families, the church needs to be family friendly and family friendly, these days, means that children are welcome. Not just welcome in their own building or rooms but welcome in the whole church building. Children are welcome, not just to their own programs but in the main church service.
One of the things that was attractive to me about New Church, before getting there, was the way they included children in the service. They have tables along the sides of the church that have craft supplies set up so that the children can color or create expressions of worship as they listen and participate in the service alongside the adults. Before I started attending, those expressions of worship were then brought up to the front of the sanctuary and pinned on a board, creating a place for the children in the service. They also had children's time. Now, I'm not a huge fan of children's time...sometimes I think it's more for the adults to be entertained by the children but at least it's a small opportunity for children to have a presence in church.
New Church had a parting of ways (in the most polite terms) with the Pastor who had instigated all of those things in church a couple of months before I started attending. I heard that within a week or two the boards came off the wall in the front of the sanctuary and children's time ceased to exist within the service. The tables have remained but slowly more chairs are being introduced into the sanctuary, in a passive-aggressive attempt to push out the tables maybe? What's happening more and more is that children are being pushed out of the service...to me that is the opposite of being family friendly.
What do people mean, then, when they say they want younger families in church? Do they really want the children that come along with the parents? Do they really want the changes that will need to occur for families to feel welcome? Do they really want younger families? Or do they just want someone who has a more flexible income and a checkbook?
For, as I see it, the reality is that to attract younger families, the church needs to be family friendly and family friendly, these days, means that children are welcome. Not just welcome in their own building or rooms but welcome in the whole church building. Children are welcome, not just to their own programs but in the main church service.
One of the things that was attractive to me about New Church, before getting there, was the way they included children in the service. They have tables along the sides of the church that have craft supplies set up so that the children can color or create expressions of worship as they listen and participate in the service alongside the adults. Before I started attending, those expressions of worship were then brought up to the front of the sanctuary and pinned on a board, creating a place for the children in the service. They also had children's time. Now, I'm not a huge fan of children's time...sometimes I think it's more for the adults to be entertained by the children but at least it's a small opportunity for children to have a presence in church.
New Church had a parting of ways (in the most polite terms) with the Pastor who had instigated all of those things in church a couple of months before I started attending. I heard that within a week or two the boards came off the wall in the front of the sanctuary and children's time ceased to exist within the service. The tables have remained but slowly more chairs are being introduced into the sanctuary, in a passive-aggressive attempt to push out the tables maybe? What's happening more and more is that children are being pushed out of the service...to me that is the opposite of being family friendly.
What do people mean, then, when they say they want younger families in church? Do they really want the children that come along with the parents? Do they really want the changes that will need to occur for families to feel welcome? Do they really want younger families? Or do they just want someone who has a more flexible income and a checkbook?
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Keepin' it real
Beautiful mess...why people think Christians are fake...when worship is rough. These are just a few titles of blog posts I've read recently. Each author is a Christ Follower and each author delves into that side of being a Christ Follower that gets more than a little messy. The side that says "life gets rough and we don't have it all together".
I attend church regularly. I read a lot of blogs by Christ Followers. I interact with people on a regular basis. Life gets rough, it gets messy and we don't have it all together, though we would reallllllyyyyyy like to pretend that we do. There's the crux. We like to pretend that as Christ Followers life never gets messy. We shine s***, as a friend would say and then pretend like it isn't, well, you know, and don't.fool.anyone. I contend, rather loudly, the world does not need to see another Christ Follower pretending that everything is okay. They need Christ Followers to keep it real.
As a Christ Follower who tries really hard to keep it real, I will say the sentence. "life gets rough and I don't have it all together" but the sentence doesn't end there. It continues, "and yet, I have hope that I'm not alone in this pit and life will get better." See, to me, that's what being a Christ Follower is all about. I may be in a rough patch, I may not be in the happiest of happy places and really feel like life keeps throwing rocks at me, but I have hope. Not cheesy, fake, I have to say this because I'm a Christian hope, but deep, abiding, feel it to my bones hope that God is there with me. In the pit. I don't have it all together. Life is rough and sometimes I feel very much alone (Yes, today is one of those days). But I have hope that I won't be in the pit forever. It's the kind of hope that has me laughing through the tears. Hope that allows me to praise God even when I am ranting at God. Hope that allows me to sing a song with lyrics such as "Prone to wander, prone to leave the God I love" or "I'm so wretched, overwhelmed with you" with fervor and meaning, not afraid to admit, I don't have it all together.
I am a Christ Follower, I don't have it all together and life is throwing rocks at me...and I have hope.
Just keepin' it real.
I attend church regularly. I read a lot of blogs by Christ Followers. I interact with people on a regular basis. Life gets rough, it gets messy and we don't have it all together, though we would reallllllyyyyyy like to pretend that we do. There's the crux. We like to pretend that as Christ Followers life never gets messy. We shine s***, as a friend would say and then pretend like it isn't, well, you know, and don't.fool.anyone. I contend, rather loudly, the world does not need to see another Christ Follower pretending that everything is okay. They need Christ Followers to keep it real.
As a Christ Follower who tries really hard to keep it real, I will say the sentence. "life gets rough and I don't have it all together" but the sentence doesn't end there. It continues, "and yet, I have hope that I'm not alone in this pit and life will get better." See, to me, that's what being a Christ Follower is all about. I may be in a rough patch, I may not be in the happiest of happy places and really feel like life keeps throwing rocks at me, but I have hope. Not cheesy, fake, I have to say this because I'm a Christian hope, but deep, abiding, feel it to my bones hope that God is there with me. In the pit. I don't have it all together. Life is rough and sometimes I feel very much alone (Yes, today is one of those days). But I have hope that I won't be in the pit forever. It's the kind of hope that has me laughing through the tears. Hope that allows me to praise God even when I am ranting at God. Hope that allows me to sing a song with lyrics such as "Prone to wander, prone to leave the God I love" or "I'm so wretched, overwhelmed with you" with fervor and meaning, not afraid to admit, I don't have it all together.
I am a Christ Follower, I don't have it all together and life is throwing rocks at me...and I have hope.
Just keepin' it real.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
A building or a community?
What is a church? Is it a building? Is it a group of people with similar beliefs? Is it a community? What is a church?
For so many the word "church" means a building. A place where people go for an hour or so on a Sunday morning (or maybe a Saturday night). They sit, they listen, the sing, they go home, they drink bad coffee, they go home. Many times when I say the word "church" I mean the building.
When the Bible talks about the early "church" it doesn't mean a building. The word is used in relation to the group of people that gathered together, that group was the "church". They may have met in a building but it is the body of believers that the Bible refers to as the church, not the place they met.
Modern day Christian culture, though, puts a lot more emphasis on the building being church, rather than the people. Sometimes there is a push to remember church is the people, not a building, but most of the time that point is lost. Why does any of this matter? Good question.
Recently I was talking with a friend about the community of believers and the building of the church. We talked about going to church, going through the rituals and liturgy church services have come to be versus gathering as a community of believers and allowing the Spirit of God to move and lead the time together. Is one church and the other not?
We talked about what a community of believers looks like, rather than a legalistic church which holds on to its rules and regulations for the sake of the rules and regulations (the Sanctuary is to be used solely for the purpose of worship on Sunday morning, nothing else). Is one a church and the other not?
I'm still working this through, obviously, and I definitely have my ideas. Niggling at the back of my mind is the knowledge that while church can be a building, more importantly church is a community of believers, it is the people.
For so many the word "church" means a building. A place where people go for an hour or so on a Sunday morning (or maybe a Saturday night). They sit, they listen, the sing, they go home, they drink bad coffee, they go home. Many times when I say the word "church" I mean the building.
When the Bible talks about the early "church" it doesn't mean a building. The word is used in relation to the group of people that gathered together, that group was the "church". They may have met in a building but it is the body of believers that the Bible refers to as the church, not the place they met.
Modern day Christian culture, though, puts a lot more emphasis on the building being church, rather than the people. Sometimes there is a push to remember church is the people, not a building, but most of the time that point is lost. Why does any of this matter? Good question.
Recently I was talking with a friend about the community of believers and the building of the church. We talked about going to church, going through the rituals and liturgy church services have come to be versus gathering as a community of believers and allowing the Spirit of God to move and lead the time together. Is one church and the other not?
We talked about what a community of believers looks like, rather than a legalistic church which holds on to its rules and regulations for the sake of the rules and regulations (the Sanctuary is to be used solely for the purpose of worship on Sunday morning, nothing else). Is one a church and the other not?
I'm still working this through, obviously, and I definitely have my ideas. Niggling at the back of my mind is the knowledge that while church can be a building, more importantly church is a community of believers, it is the people.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
A God by any other name
I've noticed this trend in prayer that has crawled underneath my skin, kind of like a chigger, and makes it's way to the surface to irritate me and make me itch. The trend is to strictly relegate God to the role of "Father" in prayer. What I mean is this "Father, we ask you today...Father, come into our presence...Father, we call on your name..." I listened in worship this morning and every single person who prayed in front of church started out with "Father".
I don't mind calling God "father", though I know of many for whom that term will never fall from their lips. What I mind is limiting God to "father". It seems to make God one-dimensional and so very much human, whereas I see God as multi-dimensional and utterly other. To me saying "Father" in relation to God conjures up the Sunday School image that I had of God as a giant white cloud in the sky with a face, a mustache, a long white beard and puffy white cheeks and a ready smile. That God of my childhood was limiting, had parameters that were clearly known and would always be in the sky. The God of my adulthood is different.
God may look like the God portrayed in "The Shack", a big black woman in an apron. God may look like the wind. Like the frog that sat beside me on the beach one day as I struggled to make sense of the heartache I was feeling. God might look like the guy who sold me my Mustang Convertible. God might look like the rocks where I sat in Tahoe last year, officially deciding to quit my job. God might look like the lizards near the rocks that kept darting back and forth beneath my legs, making me move. God might look the trees. God might look like Ms. Shirley in Mississippi or my friend Cora or maybe even David, who lived in the woods. I have no idea what God might look like but I do know that I cannot limit God to being just "Father".
God is Creator, Author, the Alpha and Omega, beautiful, scandalous, full of Grace, full of Mercy, full of Kindness but also a God of wrath and a God of love. God is so infinitely big, so infinitely amazing I cannot fully comprehend nor explain God. God is the giver of life, the keeper of my deepest secrets, the one who gives, the one who grieves. God is breath. God is hope. God is compassionate and slow to anger. God is the one who pushes me beyond the limits I have set for myself. God is a cheerleader and a a rule enforcer. God is...God not just Father but so much more.
I don't mind calling God "father", though I know of many for whom that term will never fall from their lips. What I mind is limiting God to "father". It seems to make God one-dimensional and so very much human, whereas I see God as multi-dimensional and utterly other. To me saying "Father" in relation to God conjures up the Sunday School image that I had of God as a giant white cloud in the sky with a face, a mustache, a long white beard and puffy white cheeks and a ready smile. That God of my childhood was limiting, had parameters that were clearly known and would always be in the sky. The God of my adulthood is different.
God may look like the God portrayed in "The Shack", a big black woman in an apron. God may look like the wind. Like the frog that sat beside me on the beach one day as I struggled to make sense of the heartache I was feeling. God might look like the guy who sold me my Mustang Convertible. God might look like the rocks where I sat in Tahoe last year, officially deciding to quit my job. God might look like the lizards near the rocks that kept darting back and forth beneath my legs, making me move. God might look the trees. God might look like Ms. Shirley in Mississippi or my friend Cora or maybe even David, who lived in the woods. I have no idea what God might look like but I do know that I cannot limit God to being just "Father".
God is Creator, Author, the Alpha and Omega, beautiful, scandalous, full of Grace, full of Mercy, full of Kindness but also a God of wrath and a God of love. God is so infinitely big, so infinitely amazing I cannot fully comprehend nor explain God. God is the giver of life, the keeper of my deepest secrets, the one who gives, the one who grieves. God is breath. God is hope. God is compassionate and slow to anger. God is the one who pushes me beyond the limits I have set for myself. God is a cheerleader and a a rule enforcer. God is...God not just Father but so much more.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Dear Church,
I'm tired. I'm very, very tired of the "liberal vs conservative" conversation. I'm tired of it in politics. I'm extremely tired of it in the church.
I sit in the same row as people Sunday after Sunday with people who don't hold the same views as I do. We don't always read the Bible and see the same words. We don't always hear a song/hymn and get the same meaning from it. We don't think about certain "hot topics" the same way. Yet I sit in church every week with people who don't hold the same ideas or thoughts and we still worship the same Jesus and the same God. I am friends with Christians who hold differing views than I do, yet that doesn't make my beliefs or their beliefs any less real. Sure, it will cause discord when we discuss the issues but really, it doesn't matter.
See, I care more about the heart of a person than I do about their politics. Politics can be a statement of the heart but it doesn't tell the full story. The full story comes about in conversation, in relationship, when I sit beside someone on Sunday morning and witness the tears of conviction, the sighs of acknowledgement, the silence of the weight of God speaking to them. The full story comes when I take the time to look beyond the label and listen, really listen. Liberal or conservative, doesn't really matter when I start looking at the heart of a person, it's just a category.
You can come up and ask me what I think about gay marriage, abortion, the Apostle's Creed, heaven and hell, Noah and the Ark, Adam and Eve, Paul's instructions to Timothy or any of it. I'll tell you what I think and you can put me in a category...or you can look at my heart, really listen to my words and see the person God has created, the person God has given a mind and the power of discernment, a person who is fallible, a person who knows that God is big, so much bigger than I can possibly imagine that I don't really have a clue sometimes. You can label me but why?
Church, I don't think that liberals or conservatives alone are the reason people are walking away from you. I believe it's because we insist on the labels, we insist on pointing the fingers at others and aren't willing to accept our own part in the mess that is walking by faith. I wonder what would happen, if we would put those labels and categories aside, I wonder what would happen if we would start listening and then talking. I wonder what we, Church, would look like if we were willing to drop the labels and work together. I wonder...
Just thinking,
Brittany
I sit in the same row as people Sunday after Sunday with people who don't hold the same views as I do. We don't always read the Bible and see the same words. We don't always hear a song/hymn and get the same meaning from it. We don't think about certain "hot topics" the same way. Yet I sit in church every week with people who don't hold the same ideas or thoughts and we still worship the same Jesus and the same God. I am friends with Christians who hold differing views than I do, yet that doesn't make my beliefs or their beliefs any less real. Sure, it will cause discord when we discuss the issues but really, it doesn't matter.
See, I care more about the heart of a person than I do about their politics. Politics can be a statement of the heart but it doesn't tell the full story. The full story comes about in conversation, in relationship, when I sit beside someone on Sunday morning and witness the tears of conviction, the sighs of acknowledgement, the silence of the weight of God speaking to them. The full story comes when I take the time to look beyond the label and listen, really listen. Liberal or conservative, doesn't really matter when I start looking at the heart of a person, it's just a category.
You can come up and ask me what I think about gay marriage, abortion, the Apostle's Creed, heaven and hell, Noah and the Ark, Adam and Eve, Paul's instructions to Timothy or any of it. I'll tell you what I think and you can put me in a category...or you can look at my heart, really listen to my words and see the person God has created, the person God has given a mind and the power of discernment, a person who is fallible, a person who knows that God is big, so much bigger than I can possibly imagine that I don't really have a clue sometimes. You can label me but why?
Church, I don't think that liberals or conservatives alone are the reason people are walking away from you. I believe it's because we insist on the labels, we insist on pointing the fingers at others and aren't willing to accept our own part in the mess that is walking by faith. I wonder what would happen, if we would put those labels and categories aside, I wonder what would happen if we would start listening and then talking. I wonder what we, Church, would look like if we were willing to drop the labels and work together. I wonder...
Just thinking,
Brittany
Thursday, June 21, 2012
The pressure
**This post was written awhile back. I just re-read it and decided to publish it...not sure what made me not publish it to begin with.**
A famous Christian died the other day. It's been in the news left and right. The things that are being printed aren't just about his accomplishments on earth but the his downfalls as well. I haven't, yet, heard anything super scathing but I'm waiting.
My friend, Em, told me the other day that I could probably write a book on all the things that need to change within the Church, things that are going wrong, that are driving people farther away from faith. I laughed a little and then got a little sad. She's right, I have a lot of opinions on the Church. I probably could write a book.
The reason comes down to this, the Church is made up of people. Sin-filled, fallen people. Not one of us is perfect. Yet time and time again, we raise up people to heights and platforms that get taller and taller and smaller and smaller until, eventually, the person falls off...because they aren't perfect.
I passed a church the other day called "The Rock". I'm ambivalent about their name, there are hundreds of churches with the same name. What I did like was their tag line "The perfect church for imperfect people". The perfect church for imperfect people. Maybe their church isn't "perfect" but what that statement said to me was, "come on in, be you, none of us here have it all figured out, there is no judgement". That connected with my soul.
Christians are constantly under the pressure to be perfect, not because God expects perfection but because we have set up the system of Christianity to expect perfection. Perfect attendance, perfect giving, perfect faith, perfect understanding of Scripture, perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfection rules in our churches...and yet, we are imperfect, fallen people. How are we to live up?
The simple answer is, we don't. We fall. People rise to the top of the Christian circles only to fall hard. Redemption isn't always offered after the fall, either. Another example of our imperfection. I think there's a whole sermon to be preached there.
This past week I was surrounded by people 24 hours a day for 7 days. It wasn't an easy week for me. I had some pretty deep stuff going on inside. I was far from perfect. The last night, we all stood together in a forgiveness circle, students and adult leaders. Some of us walked across the circle to ask forgiveness of another person for something that had happened during the week. Adults and students alike had to face each other and ask forgiveness...and forgive. It was challenging. I had to forgive and ask forgiveness myself. It was so difficult but so freeing at the same time.
We, Christians, aren't perfect. We have fallen. We need to ask for forgiveness, we need to forgive and we need to let go of the perfect Christian image, let go of the hypocrisy that says "We've got it all together" because we don't. We make mistakes, we get things wrong and yet we are loved anyway. That's what grace is, isn't it? It's time to release the pressure valve of Christianity.
A famous Christian died the other day. It's been in the news left and right. The things that are being printed aren't just about his accomplishments on earth but the his downfalls as well. I haven't, yet, heard anything super scathing but I'm waiting.
My friend, Em, told me the other day that I could probably write a book on all the things that need to change within the Church, things that are going wrong, that are driving people farther away from faith. I laughed a little and then got a little sad. She's right, I have a lot of opinions on the Church. I probably could write a book.
The reason comes down to this, the Church is made up of people. Sin-filled, fallen people. Not one of us is perfect. Yet time and time again, we raise up people to heights and platforms that get taller and taller and smaller and smaller until, eventually, the person falls off...because they aren't perfect.
I passed a church the other day called "The Rock". I'm ambivalent about their name, there are hundreds of churches with the same name. What I did like was their tag line "The perfect church for imperfect people". The perfect church for imperfect people. Maybe their church isn't "perfect" but what that statement said to me was, "come on in, be you, none of us here have it all figured out, there is no judgement". That connected with my soul.
Christians are constantly under the pressure to be perfect, not because God expects perfection but because we have set up the system of Christianity to expect perfection. Perfect attendance, perfect giving, perfect faith, perfect understanding of Scripture, perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfection rules in our churches...and yet, we are imperfect, fallen people. How are we to live up?
The simple answer is, we don't. We fall. People rise to the top of the Christian circles only to fall hard. Redemption isn't always offered after the fall, either. Another example of our imperfection. I think there's a whole sermon to be preached there.
This past week I was surrounded by people 24 hours a day for 7 days. It wasn't an easy week for me. I had some pretty deep stuff going on inside. I was far from perfect. The last night, we all stood together in a forgiveness circle, students and adult leaders. Some of us walked across the circle to ask forgiveness of another person for something that had happened during the week. Adults and students alike had to face each other and ask forgiveness...and forgive. It was challenging. I had to forgive and ask forgiveness myself. It was so difficult but so freeing at the same time.
We, Christians, aren't perfect. We have fallen. We need to ask for forgiveness, we need to forgive and we need to let go of the perfect Christian image, let go of the hypocrisy that says "We've got it all together" because we don't. We make mistakes, we get things wrong and yet we are loved anyway. That's what grace is, isn't it? It's time to release the pressure valve of Christianity.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
What does ministry look like?
Through the grapevine I was recently told that someone mentioned it was sad that I am "not in ministry" anymore. I looked at the person relating this information and had a little bit of a meltdown. Not a crying meltdown but an I'm-so-tired-of-this meltdown. I was insulted.
My name may not be listed in a bulletin in some church as the "Director of...". I may not hold a title that says I'm involved in the daily ministering to a group of individuals as an employee of a church or religious group. There may not be a group of people that I am mentoring because it's my job but I am still, very involved in ministry.
I am involved in ministry to the woman who comes into my new office to sit awhile and talk about life.
I am involved in ministry to the people on the light rail or bus who just need a smiling face or a listening ear for a moment.
I am involved in ministry to the youth at New Church by typing up the fliers and calendars and permission slips and researching the information for their trips every week.
I am involved in ministry to the Youth Pastor I work for by listening, talking, collaborating with and being a smiling face in the midst of frustration.
I am involved in ministry to the Young Adults I still meet with through living my life. By sharing the ups and downs, the uncertainty and frustration, and my belief in God's goodness and continued work.
I am involved in ministry to my friends and family by simply clinging to the promise of God's providence.
And what in the world do we call the week I spent volunteering in Missouri with teenagers if not being "involved" in ministry?
I AM involved in ministry. I just don't get PAID (mostly) to be in ministry...and to be honest, sometimes I believe the ministry I am involved with now is more authentic and God-filled than the ministry I did as a paid employee, simply because the barriers are being stripped away. I no longer represent a church, I represent me and there is a lot more freedom involved in just being the person God created me to be.
How are you involved in ministry?
I am involved in ministry to the woman who comes into my new office to sit awhile and talk about life.
I am involved in ministry to the people on the light rail or bus who just need a smiling face or a listening ear for a moment.
I am involved in ministry to the youth at New Church by typing up the fliers and calendars and permission slips and researching the information for their trips every week.
I am involved in ministry to the Youth Pastor I work for by listening, talking, collaborating with and being a smiling face in the midst of frustration.
I am involved in ministry to the Young Adults I still meet with through living my life. By sharing the ups and downs, the uncertainty and frustration, and my belief in God's goodness and continued work.
I am involved in ministry to my friends and family by simply clinging to the promise of God's providence.
And what in the world do we call the week I spent volunteering in Missouri with teenagers if not being "involved" in ministry?
I AM involved in ministry. I just don't get PAID (mostly) to be in ministry...and to be honest, sometimes I believe the ministry I am involved with now is more authentic and God-filled than the ministry I did as a paid employee, simply because the barriers are being stripped away. I no longer represent a church, I represent me and there is a lot more freedom involved in just being the person God created me to be.
How are you involved in ministry?
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Ruminating on traditions
I've ranted about this before somewhere, if not here than another blog, so pardon me for repeating myself. I read this blog by Jan Edminston this morning and knew I had to link to it. Read it for yourself and ponder away.
Here's the thought I will add: It seems to me, we only call something a tradition if we like it. If we don't like something, it's a nuisance and something we need to change. Which makes churches and families hard places to be because not everyone likes the same thing. One persons cherished tradition is another's pain-in-the-...well, you know.
Just something I'm thinking about today.
Here's the thought I will add: It seems to me, we only call something a tradition if we like it. If we don't like something, it's a nuisance and something we need to change. Which makes churches and families hard places to be because not everyone likes the same thing. One persons cherished tradition is another's pain-in-the-...well, you know.
Just something I'm thinking about today.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Thinking church...kinda incomplete
The sermon in church on Sunday was about being a family of believers.
Saturday night I sat in a car and listened to a 20-something talk about wanting to belong, really belong, to a community of believers again.
This morning on my commute I listened to a podcast from another preacher talking about belonging to the family of believers.
I sat on Saturday night with a group of 20 somethings that are longing to be connected and have found their own "church" (I use that word reallllllllyyyy loosely). I was glad to be counted as one of them...just sad their community centered around such a fleeting thing.
I came home Sunday thinking about belonging to a family of believers, despite church names and denominations and how that all works.
I sat in the car Saturday night and longed for that community for my 20-something friend...(which, by the way, didn't just include 20 somethings but those in the more older and "wiser" set as well)...(that also is okay with women pastors and doesn't exclude people due to their sexual orientation, a combo that is getting harder and harder to find these days).
I listened to the podcast this morning on the bus and found myself wondering if we, as followers of Christ, truly want to be a family of believers or if we are so stuck in our labels we can't see beyond them. Truth be told, I feel stuck but am scrambling to free myself.
I'm writing this wondering what God is up to...but then I'm constantly pondering on God's dealings.
Saturday night I sat in a car and listened to a 20-something talk about wanting to belong, really belong, to a community of believers again.
This morning on my commute I listened to a podcast from another preacher talking about belonging to the family of believers.
I sat on Saturday night with a group of 20 somethings that are longing to be connected and have found their own "church" (I use that word reallllllllyyyy loosely). I was glad to be counted as one of them...just sad their community centered around such a fleeting thing.
I came home Sunday thinking about belonging to a family of believers, despite church names and denominations and how that all works.
I sat in the car Saturday night and longed for that community for my 20-something friend...(which, by the way, didn't just include 20 somethings but those in the more older and "wiser" set as well)...(that also is okay with women pastors and doesn't exclude people due to their sexual orientation, a combo that is getting harder and harder to find these days).
I listened to the podcast this morning on the bus and found myself wondering if we, as followers of Christ, truly want to be a family of believers or if we are so stuck in our labels we can't see beyond them. Truth be told, I feel stuck but am scrambling to free myself.
I'm writing this wondering what God is up to...but then I'm constantly pondering on God's dealings.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
How do you...
How do you quit a church?
I know how to stop attending a church. I now how to go somewhere else, sit in the chairs, say hello, smile, join in the potluck after church. I know how to participate somewhere else.
I want to know how one quits a church.
The church that allowed one the opportunity to grow and explore faith in Christ.
The church that allowed one to grow, awkwardly at times, into the leader that God was calling them to be.
The church that helped to guide one into the person they are, with morals and compassion and acceptance for people created in the image of Christ.
How does one quit a church?
How does one stop caring about the things happening in said church?
Things far from the beliefs and understanding of God and Jesus one formed in said church.
Things which tear at one's heart and make it seemingly impossible to return to said church without compromising one's understanding of the love and grace of Jesus.
How does one quit a church?
How does one quit a church, not in anger but in grace? Without casting stones, while also standing up for one's own beliefs and convictions?
How does one quit a church without gossip? Without massive speculation and rumors?
How does one quit a church while still remaining friends with many within the church?
How does one quit a church?
I wish I knew those answers.
I know how to stop attending a church. I now how to go somewhere else, sit in the chairs, say hello, smile, join in the potluck after church. I know how to participate somewhere else.
I want to know how one quits a church.
The church that allowed one the opportunity to grow and explore faith in Christ.
The church that allowed one to grow, awkwardly at times, into the leader that God was calling them to be.
The church that helped to guide one into the person they are, with morals and compassion and acceptance for people created in the image of Christ.
How does one quit a church?
How does one stop caring about the things happening in said church?
Things far from the beliefs and understanding of God and Jesus one formed in said church.
Things which tear at one's heart and make it seemingly impossible to return to said church without compromising one's understanding of the love and grace of Jesus.
How does one quit a church?
How does one quit a church, not in anger but in grace? Without casting stones, while also standing up for one's own beliefs and convictions?
How does one quit a church without gossip? Without massive speculation and rumors?
How does one quit a church while still remaining friends with many within the church?
How does one quit a church?
I wish I knew those answers.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
What I need church to be about
Church this morning was just what I need to church to be about.
It had nothing to do with the music, the lighting, the sermon, communion or how many people said hello to me this morning (I snuck in after church had started and tried to leave before it was over, someone caught me).
Church this morning was just what I need church to be about because the man who got up to lead the morning prayer shared from his heart and prayed from the depths of his soul and was crying so much at one point that he had to stop and let the silence reign.
It was just what I need church to be about, allowing our humanness to eek out and the grace of God to eek in.
I loved this morning at church.
It had nothing to do with the music, the lighting, the sermon, communion or how many people said hello to me this morning (I snuck in after church had started and tried to leave before it was over, someone caught me).
Church this morning was just what I need church to be about because the man who got up to lead the morning prayer shared from his heart and prayed from the depths of his soul and was crying so much at one point that he had to stop and let the silence reign.
It was just what I need church to be about, allowing our humanness to eek out and the grace of God to eek in.
I loved this morning at church.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Has the need changed?
In the smallest of small worlds, when I was interviewing for my new job, the man who would become my new boss said the following:
"You worked for Old Church? My Grandfather was the Pastor of that church in the 40's."
I was interviewing for the job over in the big city, miles away from Old Church. Proof we are living in the smallest of small worlds.
Today my new boss will be coming into the office. I have a church history book from Old Church that I am going to give to him. I looked up his Grandfather and read the brief description of his service. And then, just below that name was another name. I read the description of that man's service and immediately knew that this was a Pastor I could have worked for.
Here is what is this Pastor is reported as to have said to his congregation in the 1940's.
"Since coming to (this congregation) I have felt a tremendous pressure from the Holy Spirit and the needs of the community to stress the ministry among our children and youth, not desiring to neglect those of our congregation who are older. The youth of our valley need Jesus Christ, they need to know Him, the youth need to follow Him and this church, though small in size yet great in ministry and influence, is the soul-saving station."
Internet friends, the year may be 2012 and not 1940 something but the need has not changed.
"You worked for Old Church? My Grandfather was the Pastor of that church in the 40's."
I was interviewing for the job over in the big city, miles away from Old Church. Proof we are living in the smallest of small worlds.
Today my new boss will be coming into the office. I have a church history book from Old Church that I am going to give to him. I looked up his Grandfather and read the brief description of his service. And then, just below that name was another name. I read the description of that man's service and immediately knew that this was a Pastor I could have worked for.
Here is what is this Pastor is reported as to have said to his congregation in the 1940's.
"Since coming to (this congregation) I have felt a tremendous pressure from the Holy Spirit and the needs of the community to stress the ministry among our children and youth, not desiring to neglect those of our congregation who are older. The youth of our valley need Jesus Christ, they need to know Him, the youth need to follow Him and this church, though small in size yet great in ministry and influence, is the soul-saving station."
Internet friends, the year may be 2012 and not 1940 something but the need has not changed.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
A church of fear
"Creating a culture of fear in your ministry is not good news. It’s fools
gold. It might draw some people but you’re drawing the wrong people.
This is a major reason you can’t do anything in your church– you’ve
drawn a crowd of scared people."--Adam McLane
I don't have much to add to that statement. There are a number of churches out there, right now, that are creating a culture of fear. Some are local, some are far away. It ranges from fear of liberals or conservatives, to fear of gay people, to fear of God (as, in, breath wrong and God will strike you dead!) to fear of Muslims or Mormons or "those people who want to take away our Christian rights" or anyone who might be different than what your ideal of life or humanity or Christianity or church might be. We are a fear-filled society and our churches and church leaders reflect that at times. I lived it in my job for awhile...and then I got mad. That's not a good combo. It's sad when churches stop being effective because they are so afraid of "those people out there".
I'm looking for a church that operates out of love, hope, compassion and grace. I haven't found it yet. At the moment I'm settling for a church where leaders are actually willing to tackle some big problems...and I'm hoping that the loud, angry voices don't squash the progress.
I don't have much to add to that statement. There are a number of churches out there, right now, that are creating a culture of fear. Some are local, some are far away. It ranges from fear of liberals or conservatives, to fear of gay people, to fear of God (as, in, breath wrong and God will strike you dead!) to fear of Muslims or Mormons or "those people who want to take away our Christian rights" or anyone who might be different than what your ideal of life or humanity or Christianity or church might be. We are a fear-filled society and our churches and church leaders reflect that at times. I lived it in my job for awhile...and then I got mad. That's not a good combo. It's sad when churches stop being effective because they are so afraid of "those people out there".
I'm looking for a church that operates out of love, hope, compassion and grace. I haven't found it yet. At the moment I'm settling for a church where leaders are actually willing to tackle some big problems...and I'm hoping that the loud, angry voices don't squash the progress.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Behold!
"Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me." Revelation 3:20 (NASB)
That was the Scripture for the morning message at New Church today. It's also one of those Scripture verses that can be found on the bottom of an In 'n' Out Burger cup. It's a Scripture that is typically used as an invective to follow Jesus, a popular evangelical tool to proclaim the desire of God to come into our lives and dwell.
I'm not a Revelation reading kind of gal. Oh, I read the whole Left Behind Series and enjoyed that work of FICTION but I don't spend a lot of time reading through Revelation. I respect the book as part of the words revealed by God to John, I just don't spend a lot of time looking into the literal impact of Revelation or trying to figure out when the "end times" started/will start/will end. Not my cup o' tea.
Anyway, this one verse tends to be used to call new believers to Christ. This morning the Pastor pointed out that this particular verse in Scripture was actually talking to the church. In the Pastor's words, Jesus/God was standing outside the church trying to get in. Read that again. Jesus/God was standing outside the church door, wanting to get in.
That particular statement hit me in the gut with a vengeance today. There is a lot of talk about Christianity and churches and how to get people to church and so on and so forth. I've been a part of those discussions, I've contemplated those issues. In the back of my mind all along has been this thought...what if the church is not where Jesus is? What if the church as we know it today is so far away from what Jesus/God envisioned that they aren't even present in the building? What if we Christians are so far away from the heart of God/Jesus that we don't even recognize they aren't with us anymore but standing outside the walls of our hearts, our churches knocking on the door wanting to get in and going unanswered?
As I've thought about that today, I realized that there may indeed be churches where Jesus/God is standing on the outside of the door, knocking and no one can hear it, no one recognizes that Jesus/God isn't inside anymore. My hope and prayer is that it is rare. I have no doubt that there are many "Christians" that have lost sight of God/Jesus/Holy Spirit. The good news is that there is always hope. God/Jesus doesn't just walk away after knocking once or twice...they just keep knocking. The question is, are we listening? Are we answering?
Just a few thoughts today.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Money, money, money
One of the hardest things about working in churches is the money issue. Many churches have just started a new church budget for the year. The months leading up to a new budget year can be harrowing. Depending on how the church is doing financially up to that point the discussion goes one of three ways. #1. Everything stays the same. #2. Cut, cut, cut! #3. Let's give everyone a raise!
Honestly conversations #1 and #2 are the ones I'm most familiar with. When I first started at Old Church we were in one of those rare #3 places. The position I held had just been created, the youth budget was generous and awesome and life was good. The next year our conversation looked more like #2. (That's another story.) It was a roller coaster from there. When I left the youth budget had been so reduced that it was literally a 10th of what it was when I started. I got really tired of hearing myself say things like "we don't have the money for________." (There is another story here as well but it would just be spewing bitterness, so I'm gonna let it go.)
There are some thoughts on how to create a church budget that I am familiar with. One is the faith budget. I.E. Don't go overboard but look closely at what you think you will need for the coming year, pray about it, budget it and pray hard that it comes in. Another is the pledge budget. Send out letters asking people to tell you what they might give over the next year and budget accordingly and pray hard that people actually live up to their pledges. There are inherent flaws in both plans but the one biggest flaw is that in all of it, we are dealing with people and money.
There is power in money that just drives me crazy. Months ago, I asked a group of young adults what they would do if they could do anything in the world. I almost pulled my hair out, when all of them said something like "I would do this, but there isn't any money to be made there so I will never do that." ARGH! Money has too much of a foothold in our lives. With that foothold also comes this little gem...the more money you have, the more powerful you feel, the more empowered you can be tolord that over people help other people. The good old US of A is talking about just that these days. It's a power struggle.
In church circles all of this means that the people who think they give the most money or who are perceived to give the most money to the church hold an awful lot of power. I can't tell you the number of times I've heard this statement, "If __________ happens, then I am leaving the church" with the underlying theme being if they leave, their money leaves also. There were many, many times that I wanted to stand in front of the congregation and say "If you don't like what is going on, stop being petty with your threats. If you want to leave, leave! If you want to be a part of helping the congregation to grow and change, then lets have a real conversation." Many times these power brokers don't want to do anything but make threats but I wonder, if challenged would they step up to the plate?
It is also assumed, in many churches, that older people have more money and therefore are the ones who give the most. This bugs me to no end. A few weeks ago, I was at a memorial service at Old Church. Someone who I haven't seen in ages came up and asked about what I was doing, etc. and then proceeded to ask how the churches finances were since we had "lost so many of the older people". Um, what?! I was really glad that I could honestly say "I don't know." That perception, though, popped up many times at Old Church, especially when some of the older generation wanted something to happen. Then we started hearing things like "well, we all know that the people in this service give more than the people in that service." Sigh. Again, money has the perception of power...even if the perception of who has the most money is wrong.
I would love to have answers to this money dilemma, but I don't. What I do have are observations.
Honestly conversations #1 and #2 are the ones I'm most familiar with. When I first started at Old Church we were in one of those rare #3 places. The position I held had just been created, the youth budget was generous and awesome and life was good. The next year our conversation looked more like #2. (That's another story.) It was a roller coaster from there. When I left the youth budget had been so reduced that it was literally a 10th of what it was when I started. I got really tired of hearing myself say things like "we don't have the money for________." (There is another story here as well but it would just be spewing bitterness, so I'm gonna let it go.)
There are some thoughts on how to create a church budget that I am familiar with. One is the faith budget. I.E. Don't go overboard but look closely at what you think you will need for the coming year, pray about it, budget it and pray hard that it comes in. Another is the pledge budget. Send out letters asking people to tell you what they might give over the next year and budget accordingly and pray hard that people actually live up to their pledges. There are inherent flaws in both plans but the one biggest flaw is that in all of it, we are dealing with people and money.
There is power in money that just drives me crazy. Months ago, I asked a group of young adults what they would do if they could do anything in the world. I almost pulled my hair out, when all of them said something like "I would do this, but there isn't any money to be made there so I will never do that." ARGH! Money has too much of a foothold in our lives. With that foothold also comes this little gem...the more money you have, the more powerful you feel, the more empowered you can be to
In church circles all of this means that the people who think they give the most money or who are perceived to give the most money to the church hold an awful lot of power. I can't tell you the number of times I've heard this statement, "If __________ happens, then I am leaving the church" with the underlying theme being if they leave, their money leaves also. There were many, many times that I wanted to stand in front of the congregation and say "If you don't like what is going on, stop being petty with your threats. If you want to leave, leave! If you want to be a part of helping the congregation to grow and change, then lets have a real conversation." Many times these power brokers don't want to do anything but make threats but I wonder, if challenged would they step up to the plate?
It is also assumed, in many churches, that older people have more money and therefore are the ones who give the most. This bugs me to no end. A few weeks ago, I was at a memorial service at Old Church. Someone who I haven't seen in ages came up and asked about what I was doing, etc. and then proceeded to ask how the churches finances were since we had "lost so many of the older people". Um, what?! I was really glad that I could honestly say "I don't know." That perception, though, popped up many times at Old Church, especially when some of the older generation wanted something to happen. Then we started hearing things like "well, we all know that the people in this service give more than the people in that service." Sigh. Again, money has the perception of power...even if the perception of who has the most money is wrong.
I would love to have answers to this money dilemma, but I don't. What I do have are observations.
- The older generation doesn't necessarily have the most or give the most money...many are on a fixed income and can only give so much.
- While we are on that subject, the reality is that we DON'T know what other people give and need to stop assuming. And if you do know how much people are giving to the church it might be a good idea to KEEP IT TO YOURSELF!
- While money does afford us a certain kind of lifestyle, it really doesn't bring either power or happiness. If you want to be "powerful" in a church, how about you start getting involved first with God and then with the church. I respect people who actually give of their time to the church instead of throwing around money and expecting respect.
- Matthew 6:24 “No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money." It seems that many times, in the church, we do just that, serve God and money. *I will freely admit I haven't done a through exegesis this verse so I may have taken it out of context.*
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
What's the point of a memorial service?
I've been to plenty of memorial services in my life...plenty over the 12 months alone. When I was younger, I was under the impression that memorial services were times where we came together to remember the person who had died and grieve. As I've grown older, I've come to view memorial services as a time where people gather together to remember the person who has died and grieve. What? You don't see the difference in those statements? Okay, I'll explain.
When I was younger, memorial services were always sad. It was just sad. People cried, they were somber, we dressed in dark colors, we talked about how great the person was and we were sad together. Memorial services today are much the same (well, I don't always dress in dark colors) but for me there is a marked difference. While we may be talking about and grieving some who has died, I've come to see memorial services not so much about the person who has died but the people who are left behind.
My Mom has clearly stated that at her memorial service there is not to be an open microphone. No "come up and share your fondest memory with everyone" awkward moments. Which is fine. I'll just make sure there are people assigned to that, if I'm in charge. I believe there needs to be time for people to celebrate and remember the person corporately. We need a space in life to grieve together whether in tears or laughter through the tears. We need a time to remember the one we have loved together. We need a memorial service, not so much for the person who has died but for those of us who are left behind.
Now, I've been to a lot of memorial services, mostly in a church building and I've got to say something else. I believe in Jesus with my whole heart and I'm perfectly comfortable with people talking about a person's faith in Jesus, how their faith impacted their life. Especially when it's genuine. Stand up, talk about the person's faith in God and how faith was lived out. Let their life be an example of faith, beyond awesome. I am not comfortable with having a "come to Jesus" moment in the memorial service. It bugs me. Maybe I'm not that great of a Christ Follower. I get really tired of going to memorial services and hearing about how I need to "come to Jesus" because the person that had died had such a great faith in God. I feel like it's just another example of a preacher trying to "save" people who might not normally get into a church building and it wears me out. Really wears me out. I always feel like the preacher has looked around the room and decided everyone is on the verge of going to hell and so they must get this one.last.word.in. before we all plunge into the depths of despair. It feels forced, a little desperate and always makes me sigh...sometimes out loud.
My Dad went to a memorial service recently where that exact thing happened. Much of the service was spent having a "come to Jesus" moment. He said while there were some things said about the person who had died, it just seemed like the preacher and another speaker looked around, saw an audience they wouldn't normally see and decided to try to convert souls. His comment..."I wish more was said about the life of the person. I'm not even sure the pastor knew him very well." Sigh.
Here's the thing for me. I believe in Jesus. I serve God wherever God calls me to serve. I want my life to speak about my faith and trust in Jesus and God. I would love for people to stand up at a memorial service for me (years and years and years down the road) and share about my faith in God and Jesus. I'm okay with an open mic. I'm not okay with a "come to Jesus" moment and if that means that the service can't be held in the church, fine by me. I'm also okay with people crying because IT'S NATURAL TO GRIEVE THROUGH CRYING!!! Sorry, got a little heated there.
I'm sure there are plenty of people to disagree with me. It's okay if we disagree...but please don't question my faith because I disagree with you...oh wait, that's another blog post.
When I was younger, memorial services were always sad. It was just sad. People cried, they were somber, we dressed in dark colors, we talked about how great the person was and we were sad together. Memorial services today are much the same (well, I don't always dress in dark colors) but for me there is a marked difference. While we may be talking about and grieving some who has died, I've come to see memorial services not so much about the person who has died but the people who are left behind.
My Mom has clearly stated that at her memorial service there is not to be an open microphone. No "come up and share your fondest memory with everyone" awkward moments. Which is fine. I'll just make sure there are people assigned to that, if I'm in charge. I believe there needs to be time for people to celebrate and remember the person corporately. We need a space in life to grieve together whether in tears or laughter through the tears. We need a time to remember the one we have loved together. We need a memorial service, not so much for the person who has died but for those of us who are left behind.
Now, I've been to a lot of memorial services, mostly in a church building and I've got to say something else. I believe in Jesus with my whole heart and I'm perfectly comfortable with people talking about a person's faith in Jesus, how their faith impacted their life. Especially when it's genuine. Stand up, talk about the person's faith in God and how faith was lived out. Let their life be an example of faith, beyond awesome. I am not comfortable with having a "come to Jesus" moment in the memorial service. It bugs me. Maybe I'm not that great of a Christ Follower. I get really tired of going to memorial services and hearing about how I need to "come to Jesus" because the person that had died had such a great faith in God. I feel like it's just another example of a preacher trying to "save" people who might not normally get into a church building and it wears me out. Really wears me out. I always feel like the preacher has looked around the room and decided everyone is on the verge of going to hell and so they must get this one.last.word.in. before we all plunge into the depths of despair. It feels forced, a little desperate and always makes me sigh...sometimes out loud.
My Dad went to a memorial service recently where that exact thing happened. Much of the service was spent having a "come to Jesus" moment. He said while there were some things said about the person who had died, it just seemed like the preacher and another speaker looked around, saw an audience they wouldn't normally see and decided to try to convert souls. His comment..."I wish more was said about the life of the person. I'm not even sure the pastor knew him very well." Sigh.
Here's the thing for me. I believe in Jesus. I serve God wherever God calls me to serve. I want my life to speak about my faith and trust in Jesus and God. I would love for people to stand up at a memorial service for me (years and years and years down the road) and share about my faith in God and Jesus. I'm okay with an open mic. I'm not okay with a "come to Jesus" moment and if that means that the service can't be held in the church, fine by me. I'm also okay with people crying because IT'S NATURAL TO GRIEVE THROUGH CRYING!!! Sorry, got a little heated there.
I'm sure there are plenty of people to disagree with me. It's okay if we disagree...but please don't question my faith because I disagree with you...oh wait, that's another blog post.
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