Repentence

What is repentence? If you've been in church for more than ten minutes, you likely know that that repentence is to turn around, to change your thinking. But in what way does our thinking change in repentence? Usually, when we are doing something wrong, we know and think it is wrong and do it anyway. We say in our heart, "Yep, God, this is wrong. Here I go again!" So how does repentence differ than this helpless or rebellious stance?

We need to go back to the nature of our original repentence as our example. When we first came to God, we came to Him because we realized that we couldn't make our life work, that we were broken and needed to be saved. We start walking with God as we believed his word that he would take us, save us, and be with us to live his life through us. It was, at its foundation, a laying down of trust in ourselves and a placing of trust in Him instead.

All repentence is of this same nature. Sin, at its core, is faithlessness: an action that declares our committment to meeting our own needs rather than trusting God to act on our behalf. We are lonely or craving comfort so we turn to sexual sin, rather than stay in the suffering and wait on God. We resent our stingy boss and compensate by helping ourselves to office resources, rather than believe God is taking care of us. We are hurt by our spouse's careless words, and steel our hearts against futher injury, rather than rest in the declared love of God--a position of strength even in vulnerability. If you want to fruitfully repent--to see change that makes it natural to not sin, Believe in the rest God has provided.

We don't have to produce a perfect life. We aren't going to--but the blood of Jesus has that covered. It is no longer our problem to make something of ourselves. We are the subjects of our Maker, and we have entered a covenant of trust and submission to his leading Spirit within us. We remove all human-applied labels: "Successful," "Loser," "Smart," "Slow," "Worthless," "Talented," etc, and we wear only one: "His." As His child, we abandon self-definition. He will make us what he desires as we submit in the moments, and in the end, we will be something beautiful, and entirely of his making. That's repentence.

Repentence is resting in the finished work of Christ, the Spirit's abiding presence, and in the hope of his physical return to set up a perfect kingdom on earth. When we act to meet our own needs for significance, comfort, or whatever, we let go of the much better thing he has offered. If you want to stop sinning, find the point of faith: what is God calling you to believe? Because it is as you embrace what is true and put your feet in the path that follows logically, that you will find youself walking in faith and the resulting righteousness.

The Last Beautiful Day

Today is the last beautiful day. Today, the sun will cast golden light on fiery leaves, and we'll stomp them into crackly oblivion under our feet. Tomorrow, it will rain and blow and they will be soggy and dead and the chance will be gone for another year. But today is the last day to squeeze delight from worn out summertime. We'll laugh loud, and run, and not think of tomorrow's rain. We'll climb a tree and eat an apple and pitch to core to splatter on the post. We'll sit together, and huddle tight in chilling air and watch the last pale blue green sunset.

Today is the last beautiful day. There is much to prepare: the gutters will overrun if they are full of leaves, and must be cleaned today or our walls may rot. It should have been done last week. The rain is coming soon, and there is firewood that will be wet if we do not haul it today, we have too little and will be cold for winter if there is no dry wood. The several cords we have may not last the season. The rain is coming, and it will cut us off from playing outside with friends and neighbors. We need to bring in the outdoor furniture so that it doesn't spoil this winter. We've been too lax, we must dig in and use this last chance to brace for winter.

The Relational Nature of our Hope

Here's the thing: if our hope is not foundationally one of relationship with each other and God, I despair of putting stock in it.

Laying down my life and following Christ that I may have a life where I get power and authority and majestic responsibility does not move me. In light of what must be endured, I see no point. God may well be holy and good and worthy and the only one, but I do not find enough in that hope to awaken the faith to persevere.

When I connect with others, and sing songs that waken the relational part of me, I can hope. That gives me solice and lifts my head: not only is life offered, but it is a life worth living. Not a perfect machine, but a breathing thing with tender unexpectedness.

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, self control--where are these revealed if not in relationships, even broken ones? How can they be provoked, or honed, or seen without connection with others? What meaning do they have without that context?

Empty Feeling

I was talking with my 12 yo a couple nights ago, about life. She was complaining that the other girls at AWANA just sit and talk and don't work on their books and don't seem to care about God at all. So I asked her, "Is God YOUR center?" She squirmed uncomfortably. She feels guilty for not praying more, not reading her Bible more. And of course, we don't go to church. We are trying to train our kids to listen to the Holy Spirit, but dd says she doesn't hear him, doesn't know what we mean.

I really don't know what to say to that. If we were back in the Vineyard, they'd grab her and lay on hands so that she could be "baptised with the Holy Spirit." I don't know what to make of that any more. I find that among my friends, there is no real difference between those that are "spirit filled" and those that are not in terms of spiritual satisfaction, righteousness, power, etc. Everybody just seems to be bumping along blind, happy in greater or lesser degrees according to their personality and circumstances. It doesn't look much like the book of Acts, to me, in any church on the block.

I don't believe that God has taken spiritual gifts away. I do believe we have everything we need for life and godliness. If there is weakness in us, it must be from lack of faith in the finished work of Christ, not because we've tied God's hands.

It looks like a really anemic season in the life of the church.

Desiring God

Can "Desiring God" be just another thing you are trying to do in your own strength? If I don't desire God, where do I turn? Do I start with the emotional part of yearning and work to whip that up, or do I start with the cold hard facts about the desirability of God, and let my emotional chips fall where they may, while putting my feet in the steps that follow the reality of who God is and who I am.

I know that God says that to love him and each other is the highest law, and the way of the spirit is love. Surely desire is an aspect of love. But our relationship with God is responsive in its essence. No one comes to Jesus unless the Father draws him. Our entire walk with God is on HIS initiative, and Faith is our response to his lead. But even our response, our faith is a gift from him. He has prepared in advance good works for us to do. All the glory is his, all the goodness is His, and good things crafted in our life are by His hand, whether they be desire for God or righteous actions.

Draw Near

I haven't been on here as much. A few days ago a pair of scriptures kinda stuck to me, the first was this, from Mathew:

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

The second one, now that I look, I seem to have misremembered. What I recalled was a rebuke to those that ask questions and don't listen to the answers.

I have fussed and asked and wrestled and wondered about many things. But here is the quiet and simple answer of Jesus: "Come to me." I am weak--unable to understand, unable to make up for my debts, unable to give something of real value on my own. And I'm weary and worn with the effort of doing so. I long for the rest Jesus offers. His yoke--walking in the steps he lays--makes me smile.

So, that's where my striving has been the last few days--not in wrestling with questions, but with being more quiet and drawing near in simpleness. On the inside. On the outside, I've been crazy busy with events and homeschool stuff AND reading a lovely novel.

Church Life

We had a great day today. We went to a farm that was having an open house. The owners had sent word out on our homeschool communication loop, so there were a number of familiar faces there. The kids had a blast competing in sack races, throwing raw eggs, painting pumpkins and eating soup and milk shakes. I enjoyed the live music and quality conversation with a friend from high school.


From there, we visited friends that allowed us to use their cider press (and apples!) to make cider, while our kids helped and played. More good conversation and just life sharing.


This is what I want my kids to think of when they hear "church." The community of Called Out Ones. But without the religious structure, they don't seem very "called out." It has a sanctified feel to me, but if there are no worship songs, praying or bible stories, will the kids realize God's role in it?

Lessons in Housekeeping

Six weeks ago when the weather was still balmy, I was snuggling my 4yo off to sleep. Her six year old brother was wandering around the room getting ready to be snuggled too. He picked something up off the floor and asked me what it was, handing it to me. I didn't really know, but when someone hands you something vaguely furry next to your face in the dark, you throw it--far and fast. And turn the light on. What was it? A bat. We have cats, and they drag things in. And this kitty gift was a tiny fruit bat that had breathed its last.

Well, we homeschool, and we were currently doing a unit on flying things. After looking at the little bat briefly (since it was bedtime), I promised the kids we would study bats "tomorrow" and sealed the bat in a ziploc baggie and put it in the fridge to preserve it until then.

You know where this is going, don't you? Well, tomorrow never came. And this morning, while cleaning out my fridge, I got a lovely lesson in "Do it Now." If you ever wondered what a bat that died six weeks ago looks like, let me tell you, you don't want to know. Ziploc baggies and refrigeration only go so far in preserving small mammals. Another lesson: never wait so long to clean your fridge that a bat could rot in there. Someone should put that on one of those helpful plaques.

Notes on Captivating

I am reading Captivating by John and Stasi Elderidge, the girl book to Wild at Heart. It has been somewhat frustrating and painful. The book often focuses on what is broken in the feminine and how women are twisted. Then it lays out the ideal. But the bridge between them is always the mystery.

I laugh cynically when I read that both the author and her husband had been thinking that they had disappointed each other, but it turned out that it was just the devil accusing them. They cast out that spirit of accusation, so that they could revel in their acceptance and satisfaction with each other. Ha! and double HA! To be married is to be disappointed and to disappoint.

I love being married and wouldn't trade my husband for anything. We have one of the most satisfying relationships I have seen or can imagine. But it has also been marked by pain, anger and unmet expectations and the death of dreams. No amount of casting out of demons would change that. The only thing that brings peace in that place is the death of self, and accepting what gifts my husband brings, and an end to trying to take what isn't there. Grace grows faster than slow healing, and learning to live without comes before learning to supply one another.

I have been bouncing ideas from Captivating off my husband, and he has been mostly unimpressed. I've been annoyed that he doesn't appreciate the feminine enough. However, I was very encouraged by his latest response: "My masculine self will never be fully realized in the flesh. Your feminine self will never be fully realized in the flesh. This does not mean despair... it means there is an alternate hope, a transcendent hope. I will not hope in the feminine nor the masculine... it is not destined to be. I won't find the leadership and teaching and mentorship and pastoral care from a man that I would like. I won't find the encouraging, submitted, obedient, wise, caring, women either."

It just let me off the hook, you know? Here's this ideal woman lifted up, and I can't be her. I can't get there. But it's okay, because this isn't the last stop on the train. My flesh will die, and I will awaken a Fully New Creation, with my femininity intact. As I walk in the Spirit now, I will taste the blessings to come, including more of what the sexes were meant to be, but uncrafted and uncontrived by human mind or hand.

Eternal Insecurity

My flesh screams, "I am NOT okay!" and it prattles on a list of failures and fears to prove its point. My timid soul asks, "Am I okay?" I know, my earlier poem promised that I wouldn't ask this any more, but I'm not soaked with okayness yet.

It's the Bible that kills me on this. Scriptures that say things like "I would that you were hot or cold, but you are lukewarm and I'm about to vomit you up," or "You are not the ones that shrink back and are destroyed (ha!)..." or any number of other verses that present the importance of standing in faith--which I suck at. I'm not talking about all the religious things I'm bad at. It doesn't really bug me that I don't pray the way I think others might say I should, or that we don't punch a clock at a church. I don't feel guilty for not singing worship songs, or volunteering at the soup kitchen or serving in the nursery somewhere. What slays me is my disobedience to the Spirit within me that says "Engage with your kids." It isn't like I never obey that voice--I do. But I know that my obedience is so slight and my failure is so great.

I'll have to finish this later. Kids calling.

Let's Go to the Potluck!

"I am only asking you to go to a potluck, not marry these people!"

"I have nothing in common with them! It isn't like I haven't tried! I spent a year trying to connect with them. We don't mean the same things by what we say. We aren't pursuing the same gospel."

"How can you say that? The same God is that is leading you is also leading them. They are saved--the Holy Spirit is in them, leading them into all truth. Yes, they are out to lunch on some points. Are you saying that you aren't?"

"I'm sure I have some things wrong. But I don't want to lose the good that I do have by soaking in what I know isn't true. And I absolutely do not want my kids taught the "try harder" gospel!"

"I don't want that either. But couldn't you just spend one day every six months talking with someone about what God is saying to them, and share what's going on in your walk and be connected a bit on what you do share in common? I feel so edified when I find that people who have very different views are being led in the same things as I am by God."

"We are different in that way. I wish I could feel that too. But I don't. I feel sad. Deeply, deeply sad that the good news that is so essential isn't preached or lived or embraced there! I know that it brings bondage and destruction to believe what they preach. I don't want to be there for the hurt that it will cause."

"Well that's very loving! 'You're bound for pain so I don't want to go with you!' I know it makes a difference when we speak the truth to each other. Even people that argue with you about the extent of the Grace of God are introduced to an iota of doubt by your saying you are so forgiven that you needn't ask for more forgiveness. They may not be pursuaded, but they are at least aware of the question! It takes time! You can't expect to walk in the door and have people change their schema the first time it is discussed!"

"I don't. I don't want to change anyone's schema. I just want fellowship. And encouragement. And they don't believe what I believe. They are trying to build faith by whipping up emotion and it is doomed."

"You are overstating the separation. And it becomes wider in your absence. You don't miss talking with Mike, or Dan, or Earl?"

"I do like talking with those guys, but they really don't understand what I'm talking about. I am a lot of work for them. I disrupt what they are doing. It is more merciful for me to not rock their boats."

"Sometimes it is more loving to rock a person's boat than to leave them in calm water."

"That's true--but only if God tells you to rock it. God didn't tell me to rock their boat."

"You are impossible. I just want to go to the potluck, sing songs and talk with people."

"I don't care if I never sing another worship song again."

"How can you say that? I love to sing. I need the bolstering of my faith that meditating on the truth brings."

"Now, see what I mean? You are using the word faith as if it was a feeling."

"Be that as it may, singing about the goodness and power of God helps me believe that it is true and makes me more likely to live like it is. And that IS faith--living like God is all that."

"Well, it doesn't do that for me, and I don't trust my heart to be led by people who obviously believe things that are false. I am not interested in entering into an altered state of consciousness at their mercy."

"I just imagine a way in which the words could be true. It works for me."

"That's great for you--but what about your kids? We have a responsiblity to raise our kids in faith. And the road of emotionalism and law will baptize them into flesh and self effort, not trusting God."

"I still want to go to the potluck."

Life is like a walk to Mt. Doom

We just finished watching all of LOTR with the older kids. It was the first time I'd watched the whole thing. I don't like violent movies, and I get figetty during extended action scenes. But I read the trilogy to the kids a couple years ago, and we have all been passionate LOTR afficionados ever since.



The whole LOTR thing is very dear to my heart. Here's a community of people living at the end of their age. And Frodo says something like "I wish this wasn't my life. I wish it hadn't come to this." And Gandalf answers that we don't get a choice about the times we live in, we just get to decide what to do with our time. I feel the twist of Frodo's lament, and the wisdom and peace of Gandalf's answer. Let's live in the Now and Love What Is.



I am afraid of Frodo's destiny though: "We saved the Shire, but not for me." When he reached the Far Country, did the sword of the nazgul cease to pain him? Will the agony of sin follow us beyond this chapter of the story? How is it that hell doesn't taint heaven?

Does this Theology make me look fat?

I am still confronted with questions of whether I am big or small in this God thing. Here are some of the implications, as I see it:

If I am Big then...
My prayers/devotion/actions or lack thereof can alter God's actions
God thinks about me all the time and finds me irresistable

If I am Small then...
God will do with me and through me as He wants, and even my conformity to this is His act
God thinks about me all the time because He is good, big, and even pays attention to tiny things

For those of you more in the Big camp, I have a question. How do you deal with the unbelievable pressure of controlling what God does? Doesn't that make you bigger than him?

For those in the Small camp, How do you avoid passivity? If God is just going to do what he's going to do, why should I pursue him? Why pray?

Truth about Being One

A friend recently made the case that even though he didn't feel like he and his wife were one, that they were one in the eyes of God. He believed that God no longer saw them as two people, but one. I am not sure what this can mean. At the resurrection, they will be awarded the same body to share, with a personality that is an amalgamation of the two? Sounds frightening. The two people have two different bodies, personalities, wills, needs, callings, roles, and desires. They have two separate lives, if one dies they do not both die. In short, they remain "Two" for all practical purposes. I am not sure what it would profit to imagine this is not so. Perhaps it serves to reinforce the unacceptability of divorce--very pragmatic, but is it based in truth?


The answer to the nature of oneness between man and wife matters for all of us, because it is a metaphor for our oneness with God. In what way are a husband and wife one that mirrors Christ's relationship with the church? Answer that, and I think you will find volumes about what it means to be indwelt by the Holy Spirit and the delight of obedience.

WHAT Joy?

• Hebrews 12:2-3
  Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.
  
  This weekend, our extended family gathered for a little campout at the grandparent’s house. Sitting around the campfire, I posed a question that comes from that verse up there. “What was the joy that inspired Jesus to endure the cross?” This wasn’t just idle curiosity or an invitation to an intellectual exercise to me. As my writings here have revealed, I need to know why I should endure whatever comes in the future, and more immediately, deny myself now. I think Jesus walked in the hope that he intends us to walk in also, so it matters WHY he did what he did.
  
  The group was comprised of an eclectic sampling of older and younger, conservative and charismatic, strong in faith and some who feel far from God. Here are some of the answers, paraphrased:
  
  “I think we are the joy that Jesus was seeking. I don’t really know any Biblical support for that, but that’s my impression.”
  
  “He was looking forward to the Bride. He desired the intimacy of restored relationship with his people.”
  
  “It was for glory that Jesus obeyed his Father and went to the cross. He didn’t do it because he felt like it, but because his Father said to. Jesus bought a Kingdom with his blood.”
  
  “He was inspired by looking forward to making all things whole and complete. His death and resurrection laid the foundation for creation to be healed and restored. His joy is the perfection of all things.”
  
  Then Great Grandpa said he thought that Jesus expressed his motivation well in his prayer in John 14:
  
  [I pray that] all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one: I in them and you in me. May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.
  
  "Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory, the glory you have given me because you loved me before the creation of the world.
  "Righteous Father, though the world does not know you, I know you, and they know that you have sent me. I have made you known to them, and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them."
  
  This blows me away. Aspects of all the motivations mentioned were there, and at least one more as well.
  
  First of all, Glory. Since that was kind of an empty word to me, I went to my study tools to see what I could find. I was not surprised to see glory described as a bright shininess or overwhelming power or honor. I was more intrigued by the primary meaning, though, which went back to the root of “to seem” or to make apparent. The glory of Christ was that the Father’s BEING, His Essence, was IN Him (Col 1:19). The Glory of God is not just an ethereal shining, but it is everything that He truly is: Good, Loving, Strong, Noble, Just, Merciful, Eternal, Powerful, etc. And Christ shares his glory with us: not just his power or right to rule, or the glow of righteousness, but the I AM that was within him is now IN us! The Essential God—the “I AM that I AM” has been shared with us, planted in us: “For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and you have been given fullness in Christ, who is the head over every power and authority.”(Col 2:9-10)
  
  
  The cross of Christ was a benevolent act, to give us something we lacked. And check out what it is: “I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one.” He went through this to share his being so that we could have fellowship with one another and with him? It must be really important to God, this ability to belong to one another and live in peace and connectedness. The Kingdom of God that Christ establishes must be in essence one of unity of believers, because He is Love.
  
  Some people have emphasized the aspect of the glory of God that is his authority, power, and justice. This is accurate as far it goes. However, the Glory of God that is put in us is much, much more. It is the very Holy Spirit in us, the indwelling, and it is primarily given for relational purposes: that we may be one with one another, and with God, sharing in His very nature, in ALL its fullness.
  
  
  Col 2:9-15
  For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, 10 and you have been given fullness in Christ, who is the head over every power and authority. 11 In him you were also circumcised, in the putting off of the sinful nature, not with a circumcision done by the hands of men but with the circumcision done by Christ, 12 having been buried with him in baptism and raised with him through your faith in the power of God, who raised him from the dead.
  13 When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your sinful nature, God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins, 14 having canceled the written code, with its regulations, that was against us and that stood opposed to us; he took it away, nailing it to the cross.

Jilted Lover or Wrathful Diety?

So, I'm listening to this sermon, and the preacher is telling me that God is yearning to have me come to Him, for me to be close to Him. That His heart is stretched with reaching for me, and faint with love.

Hmm, I think. Well, here's the book of Hosea, where God tells this guy to go take an unfaithful wife so that his life can be a picture of God's faithfulness to Israel. Then he goes on for chapters about how God was gentle and close, and his people wandered off and forgot him. Does he pursue with outstretched hand like a jilted lover? No, his response is initially one of wrathful destruction painted in horrible, violent terms. "You have sinned against me vilely, and I will expose you to shame," he seems to say. Then, he turns and shows compassion to the torn and defiled adulteress. He does not seem to be a God that can't bring himself to fling the unfaithful from him. He's not so enamored as all that. Yet neither is he without compassion and he doesn't pour out wrath forever. He comes with restoration after destruction--it really is a tale of resurrection to a higher life.

I am too afraid of the tearing God, and don't really understand the healing God.

I never used to struggle with these things. I used to be able to blithely say, "Oh, yes, whatever happens it is God's best for us, whatever his reasons, I'm sure He is Good." Now, that is a much harder truth to embrace. But it is no less true.

The Naked God

I'm just finishing up reading the book of John with my kids. It has been a fantastic fresh look at who Jesus is and his relationship with the disciples.

A few days ago, Jesus was crucified. He didn't want to suffer and die, but what else could he do? It was his whole purpose for coming. They say that no one made images of the crucified Saviour until anyone who had seen an actual crucifiction had died. Our images are cleansed and made more palatable, easier to handle. Jesus Christ was beaten within an inch of his life, made fun of by morons, hung naked--naked! to die amongst the human refuse, desserted by the crowds that would have made him king. The only token of his true identity, Pilate's lame statement of faith, "The King of the Jews." He was tortured to death completely and finally. He was as dead as a Roman soldier could make him. Thomas thought he was so thoroughly killed that he scoffed that he'd have to put his fingers in the holes in his hands to believe the resurrection.

How could the Maker of Heaven and Earth, stand silent in a court of fools, and allow himself to be subjected to such abasement? Such pain, for an uncomprehending humanity? I can't even begin to understand. I find that I must look away. This is a fearsome God, a horrible twist. My heart squirms--if this is love, I want none of it. He could have stood up and ended it, but he understood something I don't. Though I can't bear it, I must know it, must know what he clung to when even the Father turned away.

I don't know how such thing ever became associated with Amway Christianity or Your Best Life Now. Jesus sure wasn't having his Best Life...but he looked beyond it.

Matt 16:24-26 "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. 25 For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it." I do not know how to lose my life for Christ. I don't know how to stop wanting to save my life--my beautiful, precious life! With my kids, and my family, and the blue sky! I want to slam on the brakes and keep it! Before one more dies, before one more sickening revelation, I just want to make it stop and be My Birthday forever. How do I stop wanting that and lay down my life?

With Ransom on Perelandra, I reach for the "good that was..." How do I learn to live in the freefall?

This is so silly. I know how to do it. I do it now. I walk in the grace for today, the strength for the moment. I'd like a big storage unit of Manna, but it isn't served that way. Why? Because God loves me and He knows just what I need. I'd like to know my hope better.

Fixing the Institution of "Church"

Mike responded to the "Why I don't go to church anymore" article with some very thoughtful and insightful comments. The main idea centered around the criticism that the author bailed instead of remaining in church and making it better.

Because we find ourself in the bailing position, I find I must defend it. ;-) To be part of the solution, you have to understand the problem AND have the right to address it. I can't go out to my car which is making a funny noise and fix the ball joint (or whatever!) because I don't understand the problem. I'm pretty much just left with a broken car. Some things about the broken church are like that. You go, the sermon sounds good, the music is nice, the people sing at the appropriate times and go through the appropriate motions...but Nobody's Home. The car just isn't going anywhere, and I don't know how to fix it. Staying in that car is silly and of no benefit to anyone.

The authority issue is even more important, though. I can't go to my neighbor's house and say, "Oh, your car is making a funny noise, let me fix that for you," and proceed unbidden to disassemble it and change parts. I can not go to the local church and begin telling people that their leaders are wrong about tithing. I don't have the right to do that. Yet that is a fundamental demonstation of a lack of understanding of the very reason Christ came, and it is an entry into something that will bring self reliance, sin and destruction. A very big broken thing, and it's not my place to fix it.

I think the institutional church is a profoundly broken thing in this phase of history--perhaps in all of history. Christ still moves and works there, but the structure itself thwarts growth. Contrast the experience of exploring your weaknesses and questions with your peers to doing so with your pastor. Especially if what you want to talk about and explore is what he is teaching--things he has already reached conclusions on, and informed you of. If my friend (MIKE!) has come to a conclusion that I don't share, there is no rub. We can keep talking and looking at the scripture and accept each other where we are, and share the goal of worshipping together in Spirit and in Truth. But if I am supposed to be following you, accepting what you say, then it really isn't okay if I don't see in the Bible what you see.

Once upon a time, we were part of a church that had a pastor that was an exceptional teacher. He could lay out a logical sermon like nobody's business. But, by his own testimony, God called him to *pastor* a *relational church.* In short, God was asking him to go beyond the transparency that he was very good with, to even loving people. Listening to them, spending time with them, sharing lives with them. This pastor wrestled and wrestled with God over this, sometimes declaring that God wanted him to engage in it and that he was committed to following, sometimes declaring that it just wasn't who he was and he wasn't going to do it. Which is how our struggles go, wouldn't you say?

The gentile church structure that we engage in totally messed this guy up, separating him from a support structure. As his traveling companions and co-ministers in Christ, we spoke the gentle word of the Father to him, encouraging him to trust and obey. That is our job in each other's lives. However, you cannot encourage your pastor to better love his congregation without a number of people being very mad at you for "touching the Lord's annointed." And of course it is messy, because we do hope that our pastors can be spiritual fathers to us, and it is a personal loss when they are not. But that aside, if we had nothing to gain from his obedience, it was still the will of God that he care for others.

Now, if we stay in relationship that is fettered with the heirarchical approach of traditional church organizations, is there any way to really be of benefit to this man? No, to call him to obey the voice of God is insubordination. It doesn't work because pride is involved, and expectations.

How can a structure that promotes and praises men when they do well encourage believers to mature by dying to themselves and becoming more abased? How in the world is a disciple to grasp "the last shall be first" when the greatest among us is not the servant of all? I hope I don't sound ungrateful to the hard work that preachers and pastors do, I have great admiration for their devotion. But I feel for them. The church machine runs the opposite way they are trying to go. They need to lead people into relationship: the form tends to isolate them from truly sharing their lives. They need to lead people into laying down their lives, but the form puts their name in lights and says wear the right suit.

Mike also points out that if you pull your hand from the hot stove and leave the building, sometimes the building bursts into flames and causes destruction. He encourages folks to stay in and be caring, concerned builders that would make the building sound. My feeling is often that the building is already in blazes and my emotions are not of calm concern but of alarm when I see what is happening in church. Hard to function helpfully in the burning building.

Trust

I am thinking about attending a church class. Actually, it's the MTI class I ranted about previously. Why would I consider it? Because it addresses the foundations of faith, and I find that when I am confronted with perspectives that I don't share, it propels me into the Word to see if there is any substance to my view or the other. It makes me grow. What most gives me pause is the chance to share ministry time with others. (Well, that and swallowing my pride by participating with something I rejected!)

When I reflect on my time in that body, I find that lack of trust on my part was a huge barrier. I do not trust God in others--at least not THOSE others. So I just went back to the Bible for a quick look at "trust." I found a few key points:

*We aren't to trust in ourselves or personal strength.
*We aren't to judge now, because we don't see the motives of other's hearts.
* We are to trust wholly in God, who is able to give us Life at the resurrection or cast us into eternal death.

But I could find little on trusting others. It looks like we are to be wise, and not "cast our pearls before swine." Christ did not entrust himself to man, but held himself to God to be defined and informed by Him. In the last days when evil prevails, we are instructed in Micah to trust no one. But I don't think we are quite to that point of total depravity. I don't yet know anyone who has been betrayed to death by their children! And we are to be one just as the Father and the Son are one. I don't see how that can happen without a wealth of trust flowing both ways.

So, what do I think is going to happen if I trust my brothers and sisters? I think I will be misunderstood and that will make me feel like a freak. If I am real, people will get mad at me, because I argue with ideas they are attached to. I don't like that, it hurts. If I am vulnerable and ask for prayer, I will be counseled to do things I think are wrong--such as asking for forgiveness (I already got saved, and am forgiven--I would not insult Christ by implying that he didn't do a good enough job with my sin), or tithing so I can be blessed (law, flesh, selfishness...), or maybe the other person will attempt to cast out a demon (diagnosing that I'm a victim) when what I really need is to be called to repentence (to accept my responsibility). Arguing about theology and the foundations of our faith are not what I want to do when I am in need: I just want someone who understands the big picture to be beside me, hear my confession, pray for me. I have experienced ministry in the other situation. It feels like gravel in the mechanism. God still speaks and moves, though. Should I jump into that place because it is so exquisitely pulverizing?

My belief structure says that I don't get to decide what I'm going to do, because I'm not my own. If God tells me to go be a part of a Lutheran church, or Morman Church, or Baptist or any other, I am to go do it. But if he says not, then I may not. What I hear from God on this is so much dial tone. I have in the past felt like I was emphatically NOT to be going to church. But how then do we participate in the give/take of the body and introduce our children to Christian community, such an essential of our faith?

To go to church would mean that I could trust God in others. I would have to relax and figure, "Oh well, this all seems like an affront to the Most High to me, but I guess I'll go along with it and see what happens." Humility or insanity, I just don't know.

Successful Discipleship?

I've been listening to a sermon that our friend Mike gave at church back in July. It was about how Mary of Bethany modeled discipleship. (July 22 at this site: http://www.lwf4sq.com/LWF/resources/sermons.htm ) I am deeply frustrated listening to this. I can't really figure out what I'm supposed to hang on to in it. I can hear that I'm supposed to be passionately, obsessively focused on Christ. Yet, I'm not. The only response I have to this is to feel guilty and inferior because I'm unmoved. Sometimes I think I'm just going to hell...except I don' t think I believe in hell (anhiliationist). I don't trust this message. I can hear the truth in it—that we must love God with all our heart, soul, mind, strength. And I recall the times of my life when sacrifice was easy in pursuit of God. I have these two voices speaking in my head. The female voice is the voice of the last charismatic church we were part of. It beckons me to be engage my soul in God, drinking in who he is with every bit of my being. To be overwhelmed and carried away. The male voice, is that of my husband who says that truth makes us free and we must discover it and walk in it. It assures me that what God is and wants is not vague and slippery, and that the grand plan is more than making me feel good. It's logical, ordered and specific. And definitely missing something. Here is some of what the two voices say:


SHE says: The way to the successful Christian life: cultivate an experiential relationship with God that makes you aware of God's glory, holiness, love and power. Meditate on it, feel the rush of emotions that come through singing about it and taking in Christian art. This awareness will make you better able to hear God's voice and put you in touch with the power of God to live out his will. You'll feel exhilerated, so you'll know its working. You will want to do the right thing. You should concern yourself with trying to be as deeply engrossed in God as you can. You need to do things that make you feel like thinking about God and listening to him. The successful Christian life is defined by a mystical quality of life. God's best disciples are the ones that are passionate. The emotional certainty that is faith, and the passion that is love are what God requires.

HE says: The way to the successful Christian life is to find out what is true, which will make you truly free to walk with God. The role of the Holy Spirit is to lead us into all truth, not all feelings. So we should read the Bible searching for his essentials, and embrace them. These include a proper understanding of why Jesus came, the impact of his resurrection, the purpose of the spirit and a firm grasp of the hope that inspired the Apostles—to start with. Singing songs that make us feel things that aren't true will hurt us in this process. Feelings follow thoughts and must always be subject to what is true. They are not useful for serving God, but are a nice by product, when they happen. God isn't disappointed when we don't feel much. Love is not so much an emotion, but the laying down of self, which we will rarely feel like doing—take Jesus for example. He didn't feel like going to the cross, but he did, out of obedience to the Father and for the reward waiting for him. Faith and Love are what God requires, and neither are emotions. Faith is walking as though what is true IS true, and love is the denial of self for the best good of another.