there was a pancake breakfast at 10, and the church spilling into the parking lot in trucks and cars and strollers and feet, and we got a lot of smiles because we have a lot of boys and i'm not sure what i'm going to do when i can't hide behind my children anymore.
it's a new church, and we've gone to the same dutch reformed one for the past two years, the same one trent went to as a kid and it's only a five minute walk from our house. there was that, and the fact that there was nothing wrong with the church itself except there's something wrong with every church, because we're all sinners. trying our best to worship a savior, and sometimes the logs in our eyes get in the way of a hearty handshake.
the reformed church had good programs and good teaching and good worship, but i often felt awkward raising my hands and there wasn't a lot of time for listening to Jesus. because everything was programmed and i wanted a little more room to breathe. a little more holy spirit.
i've been to this new church twice and it's a 15-minute drive, but each time, i've cried. not because the worship is perfect (the first time i went, the guitar was off-key) and not because the preaching is better. it's because i met Jesus in the pew beside me.
this isn't a post about denominations, because i'm non-denominational. it's a post about one particular girl needing something different.
i took trent today, and my hopes were high and we got there and he felt a migraine coming on, and so the lights were too bright and the congregation too loud, but more than that. trent ran into a man who had hurt him in the past.
and i cried again, only this time, it was out of discouragement, because while on one side of me, Jesus sat, on the other, was man. sinful man. a sinless God, and his sinful followers. and the latter, so much easier to see.
trent said hi to this man, because he's not one to hold a grudge, but the man said nothing and i wanted to rage against the machine. because i want to find a church i can believe in.
but we can't believe in church. we can only believe in God. the maker of the holy and un-holy, the repentant and the proud, and Jesus hangs out with all of them. so we need to, also.
this is something the writers of the book, inciting incidents: six stories of fighting disappointment in a flawed world discuss, writers including jeff goins, david hickman, blain hogan and mandy thompson, and it's a book full of art and angst, a book that illustrates the pain of disillusionment, the pain of learning wrong theology and then un-learning it and what it means to step past culture and into Christ. to look beside us and find him in the pew.
as curator sarah cunningham says in the intro,
"you may find that when you peel back the false pretenses and allow yourself to be honest about your own shortcomings and the shortcomings of the world, each of these moments is an opportunity. that beyond them lies deeper peace and enormous growth. that they themselves are oftentimes the necessary ingredients to living a really good story."
trent and i talked about it on the way home, about the four teenage boys who sat in front of us during the service, and one of them with ear buds in. and while three of them had sat during worship, one had stood. one lone worshiper.
"i don't want to decide on a church for me," said trent. "it's not about me. the question is, will it help my boys turn into Christ-like men?"
and it is one thing we both agree on. we both want our children to live really good stories. to be the boys who, while their friends sit, continue to stand. to raise their hands. and to worship the living God.
today i'm honored to be giving away a copy of one of the most unique, beautiful books i've ever come across, inciting incidents... to win a copy, please tell me in the comments about your own flawed church experience, and what it's taught you.
*linking with laura, jen, jennifer and michelle
I think of all the posts I have read (that you have written)... I really dig this one. great work.
ReplyDeleteI worked for the church for years, without boundaries, and it wore me up. Amazingly, when I was most tired, Jesus never tired of me. Instead, he restores, restores, restores, and today I am able to love the church for what it is, not what it is not. I am grateful.
ReplyDeleteOh the pain...but oh the glory...yes all are flawed because we are flawed...Church life has been taken many different forms for me...each on adding to my story of faith...each one leading me closer to Jesus...There is beauty in the Body...we just have to have His eyes to see. blessings to you dear Em...
ReplyDeleteI love what Erin said. Oh, we are all so, so broken. And when broken people come together for His glory, it can be so beautiful. So often, though, our egos and hurts and misplaced motivations get in the way. But I have hope that His Bride can do it. It has to be that way. In our brokenness, He is most whole.
ReplyDeleteVisiting from the Wellspring. I found Jesus in my church nine years ago, so I stay there as I grow and discover imperfections and celebrations alike, because it is the place where Jesus sits next to me even when people around me - including me - are flawed. I hope you can find the church family where your boys will blossom. Blessings!
ReplyDeleteBetween this and what Sarah Bessey wrote over @Prodigal today I can't help but pray that all of our stops along the way are weaving something of incredible worth. If we are truly kingdom people, we need only look around to see Jesus. He asks different things of us at different times. Praying that you will find a home for your heart, dear friend. Pray for me, too. We are wandering over here. But we are not lost.
ReplyDeleteI am so thankful for my church. I "feel" His presence there. And while I know no church is perfect, I am blessed by it every week. I thought it would be a good place for my kids - I so wanted them to be the ones "who stood up". And my boys did, for a while. Now they won't even attend. My daughter still does, but I find myself holding my breath, wondering if she'll follow in her brothers' footsteps. So I just want to encourage you to keep praying for your boys, even when they are "standing up" - that they'll keep standing.
ReplyDeleteabout a year ago, there was a girl (a friend of mine) who was accused by a couple of people in our congregation of purposely trying to seduce the men of the church in the way that she dressed. it was a ridiculous accusation... and the betrayal was so deep for her, in this church she had grown up in, that even though her dad is still one of the leaders, and all of the accusers have left, she still won't come back to services. it makes me sad that she feels afraid to step foot in the house of God because of a few people who were careless with their words. xo
ReplyDeletelove this post em!!! About a year ago, our church was attempting to merge with a very small "dieing" church in our neighborhood (their pastor had left, and the congregation literally was about 5 families, but they owned the building and were at risk of losing it, so we were trying to help them keep the building and build Christ in our neighborhood) anyways, they kept having to have votes upon votes (first voting to vote about the merge ... I'm not even kidding) then a vote to merge, then another vote to merge, and through our meetings it became very apparent there were a few people ("powerful" people in the church) that were against bringing our congregations together -- (one of) the very sad things about this story, is through them coming to our church and seeing our worship and teaching, one of their complaints was about the worship leader -- in particular: black nail polish -- and they couldn't get past how this person could still lead people in the spirit and in worship. Obviously, a lot more going on here then the surface, but sometimes it totally bums me out that people IN THE CHURCH are SO much more judgmental, than those outside of it.
ReplyDeleteWriting with tears, Em.
ReplyDeleteI needed this today -- you could never know how much. After yesterday's five hour meeting with our pastor and the leadership of our church, trying to hammer out some of these things with the sinners in the pew next to me, maybe what I needed was these words: sometimes the logs in our eyes get in the way of a hearty handshake.
Oh. Yes. That's for me.
Really undone here. Just thank you.
'I wanted a little more room to breathe, a little more Holy Spirit...", wanting more of God, this longing, this hunger, He puts it in our heart to drive us to His heart. He's drawing you closer.
ReplyDeleteChurch is made up of sinners clinging to the grace of God to forgive, be merciful and we are in turn to love as He did. It's so hard to get our eyes off of the sins of the people (because we're all going to sin again) and put them on God, but that's what we have to do. Thanks for sharing this.
ReplyDeleteMy husband is a pastor and I've often joked it's a good thing he is b/c otherwise I wouldn't go to church. I've gone out of duty for a long time. I've harbored a lot of bitterness. What I am learning is grace. I'm learning to see the Bride through the eyes of the Bridegroom. It is hard. But I have seen what the Church CAN be and I'm committed to doing my part to BE the Church.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this. It's hitting me right where I'm at today.
A ministry at our former church chewed me up and spit me out, as if I tasted bad or something. And it made me realize, really realize, that as much as the message delivered to those 4,000 faithful in the audience--er, congregation--every Sunday at 9 a.m. (or the 4,000 at 11 a.m., or the 4,000 at 6:30 on Saturday night, or 4:30 on Saturday afternoon, or . . .)was heartfelt, the people living it in the offices were still flawed and sometimes, well, mean.
ReplyDeleteLike me.
And even when she looks a bit ugly in the bare light without her makeup, she is STILL the bride of Christ.
And love covers a multitude of sins.
We moved to a small church not because of this wound, but because we wanted to know the names of our fellow congregants. It's been good.
I grew up in the Catholic Church, which despite all its beauty and history and commitment to social justice, is man-made and inherently patriarchal. I left the church for several years after attending a Baptist, but more nondenominational now, Christian camp, which even told me that Catholics weren't true Christians (this pains me to think of now). Then I went to a nondenominational church with a charismatic pastor, which beyond this fiery and convicting individual, was riddled in idolatry and complacency in so many ways. So then I went to college and found a small, intimate community of night-time church-goers. And this church was Mass, again. I began taking Eucharist again after many years. But then I realized I missed worship. I wanted some more teaching. Some more prayer and hallelujah. I simultaneously attending this nightly Mass and a nondenominational church. Now my husband and I are at a wonderful, dynamic, diverse church that we call home. It's good, but we are scared in so many ways to get more plugged in because of exactly what you said -- we want the church to be perfect, but only God is perfect.
ReplyDeleteFor many years, I was angry at the church I was raised in. I could recite a whole list of things they'd gotten wrong: They were legalistic. They used to scare me with those awful rapture movies. They thought they were the only true church. They told me rock and roll was the devil's music.
ReplyDeleteYears later, I began to soften. I thought about the gray-haired ladies who used to teach me lessons on flannelgraphs. They held a reception following my dad's funeral. They visited my mom as a widow.
Every day, each and every one of us who sits in a pew says and does things the embarrass us as Christ's bride. My former church got a lot of things wrong. But they also opened the scriptures to me and brought me into the presence of Jesus.
How can I be anything but grateful for that?
My husband always says, "There's no such thing as the perfect church. And if there was, why would they want me?"
ReplyDeleteBeen to so many, worked in a few, loved this and that about them all, hated this and that too, never found close community within (ever, still, because I'm not extroverted) and grew wary of searching for a church that fit. I wrote a piece for the book Finding Church releasing soon from Civitas Press, a piece that brought me to realize that I cannot and will not find a perfect church in this lifetime, something about realizing that church, on this earth, is simply a collective yes, souls breathing together toward redemption, all of us moving and stumbling in community that cannot be perfect because we are imperfect.
ReplyDeleteAnd then? When I least expected it, when I'd decided I was missing the point, we found a church that fit. Imperfect all the same, but a church without programs, a church with open air where I can worship barefoot and raise my hands and sing loud, a church where, like you, I meet with Jesus every time I arrive, where I can't keep tears in each and every week.
I can't wait to read Inciting Incidents. I've heard such wonderful things...
Broken people. The Fall always near. My own busted heart. And a Savior completely able to redeem what has been lost. The Groom is always ready at the end of the isle to received His bride. The blood of His ever kept promise & the bread of His brokenness for the taking. Learning to be salt all at the same time pouring salt into wounds. We are the church. But He is the one who built it. No matter the trials, I will always be a part of a local body. It's an oasis in the midst of a depraved, fallen people.
ReplyDeleteI have struggled with choosing a church for 20 years. The church that I grew up in, loved, where my mom, myself, my daughter were baptized, my parents wed, my husband and I wed was rent into splinters. We have lived in several different communities, attended a wide variety of churches, and finally felt drawn to the pastors at a church about 30 minutes away from home. It was about the pastors. And then they were moved. The new pastors are wonderful, but not a match for us. We went to a church we attended long ago, change in ministry there and it felt ok. Not perfect, but ok.
ReplyDeleteI don't know if anywhere will feel perfect, the hurt from that church divided and some of the awful, hurtful things that were said and done may never leave me. That makes me sad. I hope this church begins to feel a little bit like home.
Em, I loved this line, "and Jesus hangs out with all of them. so we need to, also." So powerful, so difficult, so true!
ReplyDeleteLooks like a very intriguing read! Thanks for hosting this giveaway.
This post spoke volumes to me, Emily...
ReplyDeleteI'm a minister. I resigned from the church I was serving back in November of 2010 because while I was trying to preach grace, I got caught up in performance people-pleasing.
Let me tell you, in case you were wondering,they don't mix.
I was guilt-ed and shamed, I found it difficult to trust. The Report Card said the church didn't measure up to the goal of getting more butts or keeping the ones we had in the pew. I was asked to preach more often on 'moral issues' and when I suggested that following Jesus was about transformation instead of information and that Jesus was more interested in dead people becoming alive rather than bad people becoming good, I sensed the defecation was going to hit the oscillator.
So before I got worse, I wanted to get better.
And that's when the Holy Spirit showed me that it's not what I do for God that matters; it's what Christ has done for me that really counts.
Thanks be to God.
Beautiful, em. And I get it. This topic is on my heart often and it is in quite of few of my posts, like this one here:
ReplyDeletehttp://jadiebea.blogspot.com/2012/07/in-which-we-move-beyond-walls.html
Thanks for sharing. xx.
Below is a snippet from a piece I just wrote and submitted to (in)courage based upon your words that got me thinking. Thanks a lot for making me stay up late. . .
ReplyDelete"I used to think church was a magical place where wrong morphs into right, the sinner is wiped clean, and music heals all. And yet in reality it’s just a parking lot where you can turn around. Our Father is who sweeps up messes and takes one from a drunken stupor of wildly circling light to a place of calm. Someday soon we will return. Today, however, I turn and head back home. "
:-)
I've been blessed to have good church experiences. I've had to learn that not every church will be like my "home church" that I grew up in, but that's not a bad thing. I can grow in different. Different is actually good.
ReplyDeleteI'm seeing Inciting Incidents all over the place. Looks like a good read.
You're right Emily. There isn't a perfect church. I've been with the same church for almost 9 years. I met my husband in this church. But week after week I see good people leave and good people stay. What I find comforting others don't.
ReplyDeleteBut, I'm praying that you find what you ALL need and want. That you find your church home. :)
Wow...I'm blown away by the similarities in the comments. I have many flawed church stories, as well. My father was a preacher. He was voted out of three churches because he refused to teach and live by the legalism imposed by the many boards and committees. I left the church at 18 because, as I told my father, "I meet kinder, more compassionate people in bars than I have ever met in church." He understood. One time, one of the older men in our church, stood behind a homeless man and sprayed air freshener in his direction during prayer until I grabbed the can away from him. I have seen such exclusivity, such hatred, such apathy in the church towards humanity. As a younger girl, I remember wondering if I was missing something...did no one else see that most people acted completely opposite of the way Christ acted towards others? So I concluded that if God was the church, than I didn't want any part of Him. Eventually, I realized my mistake and came back, to Him and the church, with all of its flaws because I am flawed, too. I still struggle with what the church has become but it's too much in my blood to turn my back on it now. After reading this post, I asked myself why I go back and is habit the only reason? The answer is that I keep going back to look for Him. And sometimes, sometimes, I find Him.
ReplyDelete'we can't believe in church. we can only be believe in God.' Yes.
ReplyDeleteMy parents were the types to leave a church after two years or so and go looking for another. For someone who has a built in anti-commitment instinct, that rubbed off. To say nothing about the fact that by age five or six I had lived in five different houses.
So when church began to mean something, I had all these expectations of connection with God but oddly no expectation of liking any of the people. I wanted to meet God but hold back from people. Then I figured out that yes, people could be cool, and the expectations flung themselves in the other direction, and then when those were disappointed it went back to the other extreme. Now I'm learning that the word 'expectation' is probably the wrong one in the first place: I should want to meet and love and trust and be broken by other sinners, like Jesus met and loved and trusted and was broken by people. It's been hard, and I'm just beginning to figure out what to think of myself and others, but at least it's all in the process of learning to love.
Well said! I wish the church were full of people that loved and understood unconditionally, but it just isn't so. God has shown me a lot from the hurts I have experienced, about myself and about others.
ReplyDeleteThe one thing that I've learned the most is that I am only responsible for my actions and my words and accountable only to God. They have to deal with how they treat others and sooner or later God will deal with their heart issue, but I can't get caught up in worrying about it. For my sanity I have to let it go to God....easier said than done:) But I don't want to become bitter.
Ah, I don't need to win a book, Em--you've been so gracious-- but just wanted to leave a thought...I am still working through all of this--so words are a little silent in me. I have anger and disappointment, and hope. I am working on a little piece or two--one I'm linking up with you this week coming up. And, well, the words come hard and awkward because I have a lot to say, a lot of turmoil within, and not sure how to find my voice in that, not sure if people really want to hear it. In the middle of all the anger, and the hope and the disappointment and the hurt and love, surely Jesus is teaching me something about himself. Surely there is a redemptive purpose I can talk about. I am working on finding that. Blessings to you, as you bring out the best in me, what lies deep within, what Jesus wants to heal and love and re-purpose. If I could have, I'd have joined you right there in worship, beer and all.
ReplyDeleteWow. This made me cry, and I don't even know why. The rhythm of your prose is so gentle, and I just came across a YouTube video of you, and I can now 'hear' your gentle voice saying such powerful things. It's amazing. I think it tapped into my own experience of church.
ReplyDeleteI miss church. I have been housebound for so long, that I have only been to church twice in the last eighteen months. I have had a love-hate relationship with church. Well, hate is too strong a word. But that feeling of utter belonging and that feeling of utterly not belonging. Church has been both to me.
Now church is online, and in snatches of conversations with people at my house. The last few times I have been at my church I have wept, because even when it is amateur and sinful and messed up, it is still family, and every now and again I feel the yearning for it.
Thank you for this list, and for asking the question - your posts always prompt such great self-examination in me, and I am really grateful for it.
This is wonderful stuff, Emily. And why does it take us so long to realize that yes, we're flawed, and they're flawed, and God is not and He loves all the messed-up bunch of us? I am blessed with the church family we have here in small town and the greater family we've met over the years and over the world, but all of us with our problems, still.
ReplyDeleteOne thing we've had to realize and allow grace for is personality. Everyone has one, and at one time or another, most people's personalities rub on me if I let them.
My theory on kids really applies to adults, too. If foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child, why would you throw 20 or 30 of them together in a classroom and not expect problems?! Likewise, the church.
Oh but grace, grace covers and makes us beautiful in His eyes. And if Jesus thinks they're lovely, why can't I?
I shouldn't say it's "my" theory. God said it : )
ReplyDeletei've learned that God's always around, if i let Him be. Mozambican church, with long prayer in Portuguese twisting and curving through the air to God - hours of worship followed by hours of lunching and laughing and being family; Catholic mass, American but oh so not meant for this time or this world, connected to my great-grandmother who carried her prayers beads in her apron, always and connected to the young, bold, believers who've paved the road to faith with sacrifice - their own blood, dreams, tears, and joys; happy-clappy, bold and unpredictable worship with altars full of lives bowed down, asking for answers and healing and change,. He loves us all too much to pick just one, He is too good to be selfish with Himself.
ReplyDelete