Do I Love the Church?

As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.

See to it that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the universe, and not according to Christ. For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have come to fullness in him, who is the head of every ruler and authority. In him also you were circumcised with a spiritual circumcision, by putting off the body of the flesh in the circumcision of Christ; when you were buried with him in baptism, you were also raised with him through faith in the power of God, who raised him from the dead. And when you were dead in trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made you alive together with him, when he forgave us all our trespasses, erasing the record that stood against us with its legal demands. He set this aside, nailing it to the cross. He disarmed the rulers and authorities and made a public example of them, triumphing over them in it.

Therefore do not let anyone condemn you in matters of food and drink or of observing festivals, new moons, or sabbaths. These are only a shadow of what is to come, but the substance belongs to Christ. Do not let anyone disqualify you, insisting on self-abasement and worship of angels, dwelling on visions, puffed up without cause by a human way of thinking, and not holding fast to the head, from whom the whole body, nourished and held together by its ligaments and sinews, grows with a growth that is from God.

If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits of the universe, why do you live as if you still belonged to the world? Why do you submit to regulations, ‘Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch’? All these regulations refer to things that perish with use; they are simply human commands and teachings. These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-imposed piety, humility, and severe treatment of the body, but they are of no value in checking self-indulgence. - Colossians 2:6-23


The past few years have been especially challenging for my relationship with Christianity. I must admit that I often fail to see the Jesus referenced in Colossians in the churches of North America (where I live). I cannot count the number of times I've heard some variation of "Do not handle; Do not taste; Do not touch" under the guise of "protection from sin." I cannot count the number of times I've heard Plato's philosophical musings indirectly referenced by Christian leaders as being essential elements of the faith, instead of - as Paul uses them here - as a familiar, contemporary way of speaking that helps us understand the difference between Jesus and the "world" (world=religion/belief-based living).

And I wonder if what we call the "church" in North America is actually preaching Jesus, or the 'elemental spirits of this world.'

Consider this: Much of our time as Christians seems to be spent determining who exactly is "in" and who exactly is "out." We assume that those 'elemental spirits of this world (church)' are the opposite of our belief-based understanding, and therefore we can accurately determine who is "in" and "out" based on ourselves; if you disagree with me you're out.

But this is exactly the opposite of what Jesus did as recorded in the Gospels.

In fact, he made an explicit point to refute the attempts of his disciples and opponents who tried to determine that very thing. The out was in and the in was - out? Was it? Jesus never actually says that. Interestingly enough, he said that he was the "in," and anybody was in if they went in by/with/through/over/in him.

Church seems to be the opposite of that - while saying exactly that.

 This is because we (church) still see the world as some sort of dualistic binary. There is in and out, good and evil, rich and poor, slave and free, male and female, us and them. And so we think we need some sort of filter to determine who gets to be "us" and not "them."

And this makes me mad. It makes me want to quit this whole church thing.

Because I am less and less convinced that church in North America is effectively doing what Jesus said to do and did himself. Each day I see a starker and starker contrast between the good news of God's cosmic and ongoing work of creation and healing and the organization that claims to be the gatekeeper of participation with that work.

And I find it harder and harder to love the church.

And this is where I, too, fail to follow Jesus. I want the church to be wrong. I want Jesus to tell them - those who tell others - to "depart from me for I never knew you." I don't want to love them anymore. I see all the pain and all the hatred and all the destruction and I, like Pilate, want to wash my hands of it.

And I see how I am them.

I am the same as those who I do not want to love. I want "them" to be on the outside. I am still a part of it. Can I love like I think Jesus loves - without condition, without condemnation? Without wanting there to be a "them?"

A Quick Update on Life and a Reason for Radio Silence

Hello all! As some of may have heard, my research proposal to the Christian Congregational Music Conference has been accepted! I am extremely happy for this opportunity, and have a busy few months of research ahead of me.

My proposal is to study the correlation between style of music (genre) performed in a given congregation during Sunday services and the position of that church on the question of Queer acceptance. The suggestion has been made that open and affirming churches perform a certain repertoire and style of music, while churches that are either open but not affirming or closed and not affirming perform another. My first question is: Is this the case? My second is: If so, why? If not, why is that the perception among some Queer identifying people? My final objective for this paper is to highlight the ways in which the theological and ethical identity of a congregation is reflected or challenged by the musics performed as normative worship. What might the implications of any conclusion drawn from this course of study be for practitioners and church leaders?

In addition to this research project, I have been given a couple of awesome opportunities to do some creative writing, and if all goes according to plan, you will be able to enjoy the fruit of my labor very soon! In any case, I will update here when more can be shared. But for now, take my word for it: it's gonna be awesome!

All of this to say, in addition to the small and insignificant task (sarcasm) of being the primary caregiver for a 1 year old, I am not going to be updating the old blog here as frequently with as much depth as I would like. I will still update it regularly, but the posts will just be shorter.

May you all be blessed with grace, peace, and faith over the coming months.

A Legacy of Fear

For much of my life I have been plagued by fear. When I was a small boy I would have debilitating anxiety attacks; most kids are afraid at night, but I was hysterically, irrationally afraid of something getting me in my sleep.

So I wouldn't sleep.

When I was a little older, I was terrified of losing my parents. I remember panicking so badly when they were late returning from a date that I literally ran into the wall of my aunt and uncle's house. From the outside. I was 12 at the time--not a little kid.

And so I tried to keep track of my parents at all times.

By the time I reached high school I thought I had overcome much of my fear. But the trials of teenaged society elicited a new fear; fear of ridicule and scorn. This then turned into fear of being unwanted, unloved. And so I would try my best to say the right things and not offend anyone--if you know me, you know that was completely unsuccessful.

Eventually I grew up. 

My childhood fears subsided, or at least became more refined: I still can't sleep, but now I say it's because my mind won't shut off. I'm still afraid of losing my parents, but that's a natural fear when middle age and health concerns become reality, right? And I even stopped trying--sorta--to not offend anyone. Now I just try to offend them for the right reasons!

But I am still afraid.

When I was 26, I had the unpleasant distinction of encountering the hatred and animosity that bitterness can build in someone else. I was the erstwhile recipient of a character assassination by people whom I had considered lifelong friends. That event still stings. I wake up in the middle of the night terrified that they're plotting some new way of doing me harm.

A legacy of fear.

The religious community that I gravitated towards for most of my life was founded and built on fear. There are too many fears to count, but one big one stands out: fear of being wrong. This fear underwrites so much of what I've engaged in the past.

Perfect love casts out fear.

The reason I am writing this post is that at some point in my life I was grabbed by a reality that overcomes fear. I met Jesus--the real one, not the one who makes everyone afraid they're going to hell. I'd like to say that I'm not afraid anymore, but that just isn't true. But what I am doing is learning to live in the love that casts out fear. This love is not a white wash for evil, but is instead a love that realizes the evil--the wrongness of that fear--and forgives it. I'm still learning to do this. And I quite often react in anger and fear when I feel threatened. But the grace of God calls me out of it; calls me into a life of love without that kind of fear. And that is my goal; not just for me but for everyone I know. I want to live in the love that casts out fear. I want to be a part of that love.

Thankfulness

While I spend a lot of my time on here pontificating and waxing (un)poetically about the nature of life, the difference between faith and belief, truth and lies, love and hate, etc, today I am convicted to write about thankfulness. I have much to be thankful for, and even though I don't always feel like doing it, taking the time to recall what I am thankful for does in fact stimulate those feelings of thankfulness. I could launch into a long list of such things, but instead I am going to write briefly about two things.

But before I do that, I need to hop down a rabbit trail for some reflection on integrity and thankfulness. There are times when it feels inauthentic to be thankful. Sometimes it seems that at my core I am anything but thankful. This seems to be a paradox when I consider my own value of integrity with myself; I never want to fake something or express a sentiment that I consider to be false. So practicing thankfulness when I don't feel thankful seems disingenuous. This of course assumes that feeling a certain way is the sole litmus test of personal truth, while simultaneously ignoring the practice principle: if you want to authentically be something you've got to practice it. As hard as this is to accept, if you want to be thankful start thanking someone for things.

First, I am incredibly thankful for my family.

This one is obvious and seemingly easy, but family is sometimes trying. It's been six months since Ford was born, and during those months there have been moments when I felt like it was all for nothing. I knew, objectively, that it was worth it, but raising an infant as a stay at home dad is something I was unprepared for. There was just so much that I needed to be able to offer emotionally to Ford without any reciprocation; without receiving anything in return for my emotional investment. And to be honest there were days when I felt like it was all for nothing. A person can think like that when they are unable to embrace thankfulness.

Now, six months in, Ford is smiling, laughing, scooching, grabbing, chewing eating hugging "kissing" (open mouthed baby kisses. Imagine a baby going to nurse on your face but instead of sucking he just holds his mouth there. At first we thought he was hungry, but then we realized he was showing us affection in the same way we were- we kissed him a lot), and basically being a tiny, adorable human. And while I can still remember the feelings of wasted life, I can now see them as disingenuous. Part of what helps me see that is being thankful. Taking the moments to recall and recount the things that Ford does and the person he is becoming. When I think about those things I cannot but be thankful for the life I have with him. Stay at home dads for the win!

The other part of family is my incredible wife, Lesley. It is not just anyone who will recognize that, for the time being, she needs to be the breadwinner of the family and willingly gives up her dream of being a stay at home mom for the sake of her family. Lesley is that woman. And on top of that, she has seldom been anything but encouraging to me as I sort out my feelings and thoughts about our new roles. She even is happy to let me go out with my academic friends for a beer in the evening; without complaining or even getting upset! And on top of that, she's gorgeous. I don't know how I got so lucky to end up with her, and I am so incredibly thankful for her.

The second thing I am thankful for are futures.

For those of you who do not know me, I've spent a lot of time around death. I don't talk about it often, but an alarming number of my friends are no longer living. They each have their own story, and I cannot do any of them justice recounting it here, but suffice it to say that the question of death-and why I am still alive-has been one that I have travelled with for a good many years. And during that traveling I've started to realize what death means beyond the end of a body's life: it is the loss of futures. In this sense, people can be dead while still alive. Death is the impossibility of a future, a friend once wrote, and she was right.

In all of the myriad ways it can be applied, the possibility of a future is something that I am incredibly thankful for. A future transcends my own paltry existence; a future conjures up themes of meaning, purpose, legacy, etc. My future does not end with me, or even my son, but can continue in the legacy of the work I do here and now. That legacy, that future, is love. I want to be remembered as someone who loved deeply, without reservation or arrogance. My future will be the past to someone who is loved. That is something I am thankful for.