Wall Ramblings
I'm less frustrated than I was last week when I heard the radio broadcast mentioned in my last post. I have more to say about it, and I'd like to write something a little more cohesive than my emotional outburst. So hang on to your saddlehorn, pardner, here we go.
The broadcast was nothing new. I simply heard it with different ears. For some reason the books, the sermons, the conversations, the friendships have bent my ears, and snippets of information that once flew through my head get stuck in it.
What's really bothering me, beneath it all, is the church wall. Yes, that wall again. The illusion that our community, our doctrine, our programs, our four spiritual laws keep us safe from the world in which we live. The wall that keeps the world away. Our leaning on our political conservatism as if it were a crutch that God needs to accomplish His will in the earth. Our church wall has a lot of cold stones with many elements to make it imposing and impenetrable. I think we need to seriously consider this wall and implement demolition.
I'm not talking about compromise. I'm not suggesting that we become like the world to win the world. I'm suggesting a paradox. As children of light, we cannot have fellowship with darkness. Yet, we are to always remember that once we were slaves in Egypt. We are to hate our mother and father (our earthly securities), and we are to love our enemies and strangers in our midst. We are called to be separate, and we are called to live in the world. We are called to be the Church, until our Beloved returns.
I finally finished reading Henri Nouwen's "Reaching Out: Three Movements of the Spiritual Life." (Thanks, Gin, for your patience in loaning it to me!) The last chapter is, in my opinion, the best. Listen to what I read yesterday:
"More than ever we feel like wandering strangers in a fast-changing world. But we do not want to escape this world. Instead, we want to be fully part of it without drowning in its stormy waters. We want to be alert and receptive to all that happens around us without being paralyzed by inner fragmentation. We want to travel with open eyes through this valley of tears without losing contact with him who calls us to a new land. We want to respond with compassion to all those whom we meet on our way and ask for a hospitable place to stay while remaining solidly rooted in the intimate love of our God." (pg. 146)
We wonder why Christianity isn't the fastest growing religion in our country. I have an idea. I look back over our early history and see that the greatest growth of the church was during times of persecution. When the world watched as Christians died for their faith. When the Christians were observed enduring injustice with their eyes heavenward, in reverence of a God they could not see, yet they loved. Let's not even talk about bloodshed; let's just talk about rights, and preferences, and conveniences. Could we endure criticism with grace? Could we answer questions about our "prudishness" with patience, empowered by the Holy Spirit? Could we embrace and love those that are living lifestyles we know to be harmful them, and trust the Holy Spirit to open their hearts to His love and healing? Some of us are. More of us need to. We have not yet resisted unto blood.
Back to the radio broadcast. I'm sure the woman who was interviewed worked hard, and that there was value to her effort. I can't help but think what I might feel if I were a lesbian in Missouri. Listening to that broadcast. Hearing a Christian woman hail her victory over the gay agenda. Who will acknowledge the pain and the alienation? Who will reach out? I'd say a couple of bridges were burned in that vote. I'd also say that it was just one more log on the fire.
Have mercy on us, Jesus.
The broadcast was nothing new. I simply heard it with different ears. For some reason the books, the sermons, the conversations, the friendships have bent my ears, and snippets of information that once flew through my head get stuck in it.
What's really bothering me, beneath it all, is the church wall. Yes, that wall again. The illusion that our community, our doctrine, our programs, our four spiritual laws keep us safe from the world in which we live. The wall that keeps the world away. Our leaning on our political conservatism as if it were a crutch that God needs to accomplish His will in the earth. Our church wall has a lot of cold stones with many elements to make it imposing and impenetrable. I think we need to seriously consider this wall and implement demolition.
I'm not talking about compromise. I'm not suggesting that we become like the world to win the world. I'm suggesting a paradox. As children of light, we cannot have fellowship with darkness. Yet, we are to always remember that once we were slaves in Egypt. We are to hate our mother and father (our earthly securities), and we are to love our enemies and strangers in our midst. We are called to be separate, and we are called to live in the world. We are called to be the Church, until our Beloved returns.
I finally finished reading Henri Nouwen's "Reaching Out: Three Movements of the Spiritual Life." (Thanks, Gin, for your patience in loaning it to me!) The last chapter is, in my opinion, the best. Listen to what I read yesterday:
"More than ever we feel like wandering strangers in a fast-changing world. But we do not want to escape this world. Instead, we want to be fully part of it without drowning in its stormy waters. We want to be alert and receptive to all that happens around us without being paralyzed by inner fragmentation. We want to travel with open eyes through this valley of tears without losing contact with him who calls us to a new land. We want to respond with compassion to all those whom we meet on our way and ask for a hospitable place to stay while remaining solidly rooted in the intimate love of our God." (pg. 146)
We wonder why Christianity isn't the fastest growing religion in our country. I have an idea. I look back over our early history and see that the greatest growth of the church was during times of persecution. When the world watched as Christians died for their faith. When the Christians were observed enduring injustice with their eyes heavenward, in reverence of a God they could not see, yet they loved. Let's not even talk about bloodshed; let's just talk about rights, and preferences, and conveniences. Could we endure criticism with grace? Could we answer questions about our "prudishness" with patience, empowered by the Holy Spirit? Could we embrace and love those that are living lifestyles we know to be harmful them, and trust the Holy Spirit to open their hearts to His love and healing? Some of us are. More of us need to. We have not yet resisted unto blood.
Back to the radio broadcast. I'm sure the woman who was interviewed worked hard, and that there was value to her effort. I can't help but think what I might feel if I were a lesbian in Missouri. Listening to that broadcast. Hearing a Christian woman hail her victory over the gay agenda. Who will acknowledge the pain and the alienation? Who will reach out? I'd say a couple of bridges were burned in that vote. I'd also say that it was just one more log on the fire.
Have mercy on us, Jesus.
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