Showing posts with label church. Show all posts
The Challenge of Church
This morning it felt like I was awake before the rest of the world. And as God and I were together, he reminded me that I wanted to write this post. Reminded me I had a story to tell. A journey to share. And all day he's been reminding me to write.
But now I sit here, mulling over how to write this post. It's not really that easy, when it comes to putting it all down. Partly because it's a long journey with many highs and many valleys. Partly because I know some of you folks reading this blog. I don't wish to offend you, and yet the reality is, some of what I write may very well offend you. So let me tie in with the Olympics and say, this is my lane. My race. It in no way means that there is a fault in your journey. Or that my journey should look like yours. Simply, we're each in our own lanes.
But it is my story.
My journey.
Let's start there. The beginning of my story, my journey. For unless you know where I'm coming from, you may not fully understand why I am where I am.
I have been in many, many different churches since I became a Christian 18 years ago. As a zealous teenager (whose parents attended an Anglican church for Christmas and Easter), I attended youth groups run by a variety of churches, went on camps run by the S.U. and individual churches, and thrived under the patient teaching of the pastors and folks whose passion it was to love and teach young people.
Church was the norm. Braveheart and I even met after an evening church service when we were both in our teens, and when he left to study at the Natal Technikon, he became involved with a dynamic church there that God used to open his eyes (and then mine) to the possibilities in Christ. When I started studying at Rhodes University two years later, I remember trying out all the churches that were the most popular, looking for one like the one Braveheart had found, and praying that God would show me the one I should call home for the next four years.
After 7 months of searching and not quite feeling at home, I was close to giving up. One Sunday, I told God I would walk around Grahamstown until I found a church he wanted me at. I walked. A long way. And EVENTUALLY, right on the other side of Grahamstown (bear in mind I had no car!), I came across this tiny wee Full Gospel Church. And as I passed the doors I knew this was where God wanted me - which was surprising as it was a lot more traditional than churches I had been used to being a part of AND at that time, not one other Rhodes University student was part of the congregation!
Well, I stayed, and it was the richest few years of my life. It was an elderly congregation, with a few young families, and they quickly became like a family to me, exactly what I needed being so far from home. God clearly showed me in the first few months what he wanted of me there, and I'm sad to say, I acted like Moses and refused to do it alone. So he gave me an Aaron, and I learnt a hard lesson about saying no to God because of my own fear. Together we led the Young Adults and Youth, and it was so richly rewarding.
Braveheart finished studying before me and travelled with a church group to Malawi, as well as travelling overseas, and then when I returned to Zim, we wed and started attending a new church run by a familiar pastoral couple. Braveheart had been a part of it for a while before I returned home, and led the praise and worship team. It was then that I started asking God a lot of questions, as did many of the folk around us. And if I were to pinpoint a time, I would say it was then, that I was growing steadily disillusioned with church... dissatisfied...discontent. Why was every service the same? Why did so few people have anything to really share? How come people didn't shout out the good things God was doing? Why was every sermon seemingly based on how to be a perfect Christian? If I was an atheist who walked into this service, would my heart be blown away by the truth and tangible presence of God?
God then began a period in our lives where he stripped down every conceivable idol there was, whether we realized it or not. Family members whom we had placed on an unhealthy pedestal were humbled and God shined his light so clearly in how unhealthily we had worshiped mere people instead of him. Whilst in South Korea, God used our experiences there (the worst yet most life changing year for both Braveheart and I) to tear down an idol we had made of another couple close to us who walked with God in an amazing way. And furthermore, we were forced out of church by the very nature of there being no English speaking churches near us. And this was before we even owned a computer or had ready access to the Internet - how different it would be now if we were to go back! (I'm remembering even now how much I searched for an English speaking church to be in whilst we were there - believe me, I tried! Paul Yong YCho? I even went to his church!)
The third time God did it (removed idols from our life), was after we moved to Cape Town. We had chosen to live in a certain area to be close to a church. It was during our time there, that God stripped down the last idol we had between us and Him... worshiping a church instead of Him, relying on folk to feed us instead of Him, looking to elders to guide us instead of Him. For a long time, in spite of our experiences in church, we had placed this one group of churches above all others. We believed with all out hearts that they were doing exactly what God had called churches to do, and to some extent that they were "perfect".
Without needing to go into too much detail, our relationship with them was wrenched apart after we chose to be vulnerable and admit openly and honestly how imperfect we really were, and that we were in need of help. The message we were left with was to "shape up or ship out" - my own words. That was the final blow in my walk with churches. It was devastating to Braveheart and I, and sent us both reeling. Although to some degree I can understand an eldership's need to "protect" their flock, I cannot understand the judgement and lack of grace that was displayed to us.
And so life continued. We'd spent two years trying to make friends in this church and we were asked to sever contact with the folk in the church. We ended up going back to Korea, and I knew we needed time to heal. When we returned, we moved to another suburb, where many other Zimbabwean families had already moved and we tried a number of churches...but still the questions kept cropping up, and my disillusionment grew.
I believe in Church. I do. I see it throughout Scripture. I see how God wanted his people bound together at the heart level. Church in Scripture is beautiful.
But what I see in today's reality makes me want to weep.
I will not believe that what I see today on Sundays is the way God wants his church to be. I can not let my spirit settle for that. I long for something more.
This is what God is doing in out lives. He is calling Braveheart and I, challenging us, to find the other. He's done that with the way in which He wants us to school our kids. He does that in the way Braveheart manages our finances. And He's done it to the way we fellowship and the way we see church. It's only today that I see God started us on this quest for something different, some road less travelled so long ago, even before we started the schooling journey.
Why does Church sadden me? Because it's become a well oiled machine, institutions and organisations with managers, not organic bodies following the Spirit. I'm saddened by how prescriptive churches have become, and how little of the GRACE of God and who He is and His personality and character is preached. I firmly, and I mean so firmly that I hold to it unwaveringly, believe, that if those that preach would dare to preach only God's love and the radical message of grace, all else would come without any effort. ( Let me give you an example: I am pained to hear folk preaching on praise and worship and how one should raise one's hands, spin around, lay prostrate...in order to worship God properly...surely if God was preached and we knew him for who he is, this would be our natural response and not something we would need to be instructed in? Food for thought?) I've often entered a church and thought - would a prostitute be welcome here? If I arrived dirty and in rags, would I be welcome here? Are you telling the truth when you say all are welcome? See, I believe unconditional love always wins...
But, in the same way that school has become what it is because of the sheer numbers of children needing an education, there's a part of me that wonders how much of church looks the way it does because of the control that man feels he needs over large groups of people. And in the same way I think there are incredible talented teachers with hearts FOR children, I think there are pastors and elders who get God's idea and purpose of a body meeting together. To those of you who preach His love and shout out His grace...I honor and admire you for being his messengers.
And the funny thing is this: as we walk this road, we come along so many, many folk who are walking outside of formal Christian institutions. So many folk who are doing this "other" road. And it's been like that in our journey of homeschooling too. I'm not sure where God is taking us...but I know it's an "other" path. It gets really lonely - I miss the close knit community I imagine church can be...
My road.
My thoughts.
God's work.
I'm about to hit the publish button, but have to share, that this draft has been around for over a week. And yesterday? Yesterday I went to church for the first time in over 5 years. I cannot help wondering what God is up to. He gave me such beautiful gifts in the fun my children had, and the way he spoke to their hearts...but the service I was in? Questions dear friends, questions...
But now I sit here, mulling over how to write this post. It's not really that easy, when it comes to putting it all down. Partly because it's a long journey with many highs and many valleys. Partly because I know some of you folks reading this blog. I don't wish to offend you, and yet the reality is, some of what I write may very well offend you. So let me tie in with the Olympics and say, this is my lane. My race. It in no way means that there is a fault in your journey. Or that my journey should look like yours. Simply, we're each in our own lanes.
But it is my story.
My journey.
Let's start there. The beginning of my story, my journey. For unless you know where I'm coming from, you may not fully understand why I am where I am.
I have been in many, many different churches since I became a Christian 18 years ago. As a zealous teenager (whose parents attended an Anglican church for Christmas and Easter), I attended youth groups run by a variety of churches, went on camps run by the S.U. and individual churches, and thrived under the patient teaching of the pastors and folks whose passion it was to love and teach young people.
Church was the norm. Braveheart and I even met after an evening church service when we were both in our teens, and when he left to study at the Natal Technikon, he became involved with a dynamic church there that God used to open his eyes (and then mine) to the possibilities in Christ. When I started studying at Rhodes University two years later, I remember trying out all the churches that were the most popular, looking for one like the one Braveheart had found, and praying that God would show me the one I should call home for the next four years.
After 7 months of searching and not quite feeling at home, I was close to giving up. One Sunday, I told God I would walk around Grahamstown until I found a church he wanted me at. I walked. A long way. And EVENTUALLY, right on the other side of Grahamstown (bear in mind I had no car!), I came across this tiny wee Full Gospel Church. And as I passed the doors I knew this was where God wanted me - which was surprising as it was a lot more traditional than churches I had been used to being a part of AND at that time, not one other Rhodes University student was part of the congregation!
Well, I stayed, and it was the richest few years of my life. It was an elderly congregation, with a few young families, and they quickly became like a family to me, exactly what I needed being so far from home. God clearly showed me in the first few months what he wanted of me there, and I'm sad to say, I acted like Moses and refused to do it alone. So he gave me an Aaron, and I learnt a hard lesson about saying no to God because of my own fear. Together we led the Young Adults and Youth, and it was so richly rewarding.
Braveheart finished studying before me and travelled with a church group to Malawi, as well as travelling overseas, and then when I returned to Zim, we wed and started attending a new church run by a familiar pastoral couple. Braveheart had been a part of it for a while before I returned home, and led the praise and worship team. It was then that I started asking God a lot of questions, as did many of the folk around us. And if I were to pinpoint a time, I would say it was then, that I was growing steadily disillusioned with church... dissatisfied...discontent. Why was every service the same? Why did so few people have anything to really share? How come people didn't shout out the good things God was doing? Why was every sermon seemingly based on how to be a perfect Christian? If I was an atheist who walked into this service, would my heart be blown away by the truth and tangible presence of God?
God then began a period in our lives where he stripped down every conceivable idol there was, whether we realized it or not. Family members whom we had placed on an unhealthy pedestal were humbled and God shined his light so clearly in how unhealthily we had worshiped mere people instead of him. Whilst in South Korea, God used our experiences there (the worst yet most life changing year for both Braveheart and I) to tear down an idol we had made of another couple close to us who walked with God in an amazing way. And furthermore, we were forced out of church by the very nature of there being no English speaking churches near us. And this was before we even owned a computer or had ready access to the Internet - how different it would be now if we were to go back! (I'm remembering even now how much I searched for an English speaking church to be in whilst we were there - believe me, I tried! Paul Yong YCho? I even went to his church!)
The third time God did it (removed idols from our life), was after we moved to Cape Town. We had chosen to live in a certain area to be close to a church. It was during our time there, that God stripped down the last idol we had between us and Him... worshiping a church instead of Him, relying on folk to feed us instead of Him, looking to elders to guide us instead of Him. For a long time, in spite of our experiences in church, we had placed this one group of churches above all others. We believed with all out hearts that they were doing exactly what God had called churches to do, and to some extent that they were "perfect".
Without needing to go into too much detail, our relationship with them was wrenched apart after we chose to be vulnerable and admit openly and honestly how imperfect we really were, and that we were in need of help. The message we were left with was to "shape up or ship out" - my own words. That was the final blow in my walk with churches. It was devastating to Braveheart and I, and sent us both reeling. Although to some degree I can understand an eldership's need to "protect" their flock, I cannot understand the judgement and lack of grace that was displayed to us.
And so life continued. We'd spent two years trying to make friends in this church and we were asked to sever contact with the folk in the church. We ended up going back to Korea, and I knew we needed time to heal. When we returned, we moved to another suburb, where many other Zimbabwean families had already moved and we tried a number of churches...but still the questions kept cropping up, and my disillusionment grew.
I believe in Church. I do. I see it throughout Scripture. I see how God wanted his people bound together at the heart level. Church in Scripture is beautiful.
But what I see in today's reality makes me want to weep.
I will not believe that what I see today on Sundays is the way God wants his church to be. I can not let my spirit settle for that. I long for something more.
This is what God is doing in out lives. He is calling Braveheart and I, challenging us, to find the other. He's done that with the way in which He wants us to school our kids. He does that in the way Braveheart manages our finances. And He's done it to the way we fellowship and the way we see church. It's only today that I see God started us on this quest for something different, some road less travelled so long ago, even before we started the schooling journey.
Why does Church sadden me? Because it's become a well oiled machine, institutions and organisations with managers, not organic bodies following the Spirit. I'm saddened by how prescriptive churches have become, and how little of the GRACE of God and who He is and His personality and character is preached. I firmly, and I mean so firmly that I hold to it unwaveringly, believe, that if those that preach would dare to preach only God's love and the radical message of grace, all else would come without any effort. ( Let me give you an example: I am pained to hear folk preaching on praise and worship and how one should raise one's hands, spin around, lay prostrate...in order to worship God properly...surely if God was preached and we knew him for who he is, this would be our natural response and not something we would need to be instructed in? Food for thought?) I've often entered a church and thought - would a prostitute be welcome here? If I arrived dirty and in rags, would I be welcome here? Are you telling the truth when you say all are welcome? See, I believe unconditional love always wins...
But, in the same way that school has become what it is because of the sheer numbers of children needing an education, there's a part of me that wonders how much of church looks the way it does because of the control that man feels he needs over large groups of people. And in the same way I think there are incredible talented teachers with hearts FOR children, I think there are pastors and elders who get God's idea and purpose of a body meeting together. To those of you who preach His love and shout out His grace...I honor and admire you for being his messengers.
And the funny thing is this: as we walk this road, we come along so many, many folk who are walking outside of formal Christian institutions. So many folk who are doing this "other" road. And it's been like that in our journey of homeschooling too. I'm not sure where God is taking us...but I know it's an "other" path. It gets really lonely - I miss the close knit community I imagine church can be...
My road.
My thoughts.
God's work.
I'm about to hit the publish button, but have to share, that this draft has been around for over a week. And yesterday? Yesterday I went to church for the first time in over 5 years. I cannot help wondering what God is up to. He gave me such beautiful gifts in the fun my children had, and the way he spoke to their hearts...but the service I was in? Questions dear friends, questions...
Switchfoot....Seriously.
Were you one of those teenagers who had posters of famous actors/musicians/bands stuck up all over your walls?
Me, I think the pastors in my life had all read the books about drugs, sex and rock 'n'roll, so there was no way I was going to have any "ídols" on the walls in my room! And so this is where my ignorance about famous actors and musicians springs from - to the extent that now I am still absolutely clueless about who is in what, who sings what, or even the names of songs etc. Clueless. Head in the sand type thing. Yes I can get away with big bands and epic number 1 hits of all time, but any more than that and it's laughable! Now, hold that thought whilst I remind you I'm married to man whose calling it is to take the world of media by storm, to write and direct stories of character; who follows every movie as it is released, who is passionate about edifying lyrics and songs that grow the soul, and can answer almost any trivia question on cinematography.... and now... chuckle! Seriously. Poor man!
Roll on Braveheart's birthday this year (three days after Belle's!), and two dear friends who gave him a ticket to see this band:
You can well imagine how the conversation went in the car on the way there, and even as we were finding our seats.
Me: What do they sing again? Oh really? How does it go? Can you hum it? etc etc.
Now let me tell you something else. I have in my life - apparently been to 2 concerts before this one. I say two, because one I don't remember at all much to Braveheart's amusement (it was right in the early days of moving to Cape Town, and possibly everything was just so overwhelming I cannot place it..or it was just nothing to write home about...go figure), and the other was the U2 one last year. And I was bitterly disappointed. Perhaps our tickets (the cheapest ones - which were still "gasp" expensive!) meant we sat right at the top of the stadium, and the sound was terrible: I couldn't hear any of their words and it was so loud it was awful...(I may also be getting too old!). But that's me. So there was a certain amount of apprehension on my part as I sat down and started to absorb the first opening act.
And then God started. As I watched the first opening act, a children's choir singing out their hearts, slightly off pitch and in places a little jarring, God began speaking. Caressing my heart. It's been so significant for me that this concert coincides with meeting a few new people in the last few days who have each asked us about "where we fellowship". And it's got me thinking a whole lot about church (enough for a separate post to come). But sitting there, listening to the beautiful unpretentious faith of these young boys and girls, it made me remember how sweet the sound of worship is. How stunning it is when God's people come together and sing. And there is something holy about music, something sacred. It is music that undoes us, music that entices us, music that can soothe us. And music belongs to God. I sat there, covered in goosebumps, in the hands of the Spirit.
Then, Switchfoot came on, and as the concert unfolded, seeing this band in the flesh made me able to make a connection to the songs I've heard Braveheart play for years. The concert was incredible. It was unlike anything I've ever been to before (ahem, those two concerts and all the churches I've been in). It honestly felt more like an authentic representation of what church should be like in today's world - it was Christianity at its most real, without any mask of religiosity. Here were men who love God and who clearly know him, living their lives without being boxed in by modern Christian dogma, and it was exhilarating for my spirit. In fact, writing this make my spirit actually hurt in my chest. It. was. so. real.
And as per my nature, I came home to google this band that I hadn't really paid that much attention to, and having seen them, watched them - being at that concert felt 'intimate' in a sense. As though you were on holy ground. I can't quite put my finger on it. The lead singer, Jon Foreman, was absolutely free to be with the audience, and moved right through us, singing and touching people's hands...there was something so beautifully down to earth about him. I've loved some of the things that have been written about him, and that he's written, and I'd love to share them with you...and I've also included some links to their songs. Please do find the time to listen to them - the lyrics are so profound...it's like drinking food for thought!
According to Jon Foreman, the name "Switchfoot" is a surfing term. "We all love to surf and have been surfing all our lives so to us, the name made sense. To switch your feet means to take a new stance facing the opposite direction. It's about change and movement, a different way of approaching life and music." Switchfoot has struggled with being labelled as a Christian band, and I loved what he had to say in response to that, "For us, it's a faith, not a genre," says Jon Foreman. "We've always been very open and honest about where the songs are coming from. For us, these songs are for everyone. Calling us 'Christian rock' tends to be a box that closes some people out and excludes them, and that's not what we're trying to do. Music has always opened my mind—and that's what we want" (source: Wikipedia)
The Huffington Post picked up Jon Foreman's blog ( do click on over, it's well worth reading it all) and these two paragraphs blew me away:
There is no way out. We were born into the fight. Every noble pursuit will cost you: justice, wisdom, strength, marriage, children -- you will pay for these with your breath, your tears, your blood, even your life. We're all in this together -- fighting to make sense of the madness, to make our lives count. All of us are on a journey of desire. Longing, yearning, hoping, dreaming for a better day. But these dreams of ours are held in tension by the obstacles between where we are and where we hope to be. We are suspended in mid-air like a still life, a photograph. Frame by frame, we live our lives, forever stuck in the ether of the frozen now. Frame by frame we are frozen in the present between yesterday and tomorrow. Frame by frame we step forward towards the infinite unknown that only tomorrow can bring.
Recently, my friends and I recorded an album about the the struggle that we call life. We wanted a record that would speak to the polarity of our existence, the darkness and the light, the despair and the hope along the way. These vices of ours, we wanted to make 'em sing. We wanted to make a musical world that was held in tension by the poles of darkness and light. Maybe my songs have always come from the tension, the things that terrify me, the things that stretch me thin and keep me up at night. As much as I want to run away from these things, I can't. The strings of our hearts were not made for safety. No, these strings are made to dance. I cannot to hold the temporal too closely for the final freedom I long for was never hers to give. Safety cannot be found in the transients. I struggle to look beyond all of this. The transcendent alone can give meaning to the tension, purpose to the release. So I give up hoping for safety. I've given up hoping in the overstuffed pockets of the powerful and well fed. I've given up hope that I could ever buy what I truly need. Indeed if the world knows no justice, we're better off staying maladjusted. Stretched thin.
The Huffington Post has a list of all his blog posts they've featured - go on over, it's such food for thought!
May God do something in you as you listen to just some of these:
"Dare you to Move"
Learning to Breathe
This is Your Life, Your Love is a Song, "The Shadow Proves The Sunshine" (inspired by CS Lewis), Meant to Live....
And really, I could go on. Just get your hands on some of this music. Seriously!
