Today, we visited a church in Kempten. If my information is correct, it is the largest church in the Allgäu region: It is merely to setup my argumentation that I mention this. Upon entering the building, we were greeted warmly by people who seemed to mean it, the perfect balance of stewardship and emotion (i.e. I didn't feel like they were selling the church to me. Just normal people giving us a hello. Nice!)
Walking deeper in, Jamie was greeted by a kid a little older than he, and immediately sucked into the children's program without so much as a goodbye. Nice!
I went up the stairs to the little kids area with Kian. Almost no one there. Just us and this other really friendly guy and his wife. Turns out all the other parents with kids were just taking there time getting to church and began arriving later. Also nice!
Looking down at all the stools, and listening in on the sermon every now and then, I had the impression the service itself was like some irrelevant black hole. While I was upstairs having quite interesting conversations with other parents, about things we were experiencing in the last days, there was this guy at the pulpit trying to convince us all that what he was talking about was worth our listening to. I just couldn't buy it. Admittedly, being upstairs was more than a hindrance to the flow of his words below, though, the more I listened, it wasn't so much what he was saying, as where he was saying it and how, which gave me cause to reflect not only on this one experience but on all church experiences I've ever had.
The whole concept of church takes for granted that you are willing to do your part in the following: put aside what is important for you thus week; the thoughts running around in your head and decisions that need to be made (so far so good), and exchange them for the wisdom of a person on a stage about problems you may or may not have, all the while holding captive the hope that the holy spirit will make clear the meaning of those wise words upon your heart.
To be clear, I am aware that the cross is foolishness to the perishing, but the examples I am referring to leave out the cross altogether and are thus simply foolishness.
The gentleman from the stage this morning hoped i too would experience the clarity of God's speaking into my life, as does he. But to be quite frank... looking back, if I'm honest, there is more confusion of what God has "spoken" into my life than there ever was clarity. In fact, I would say most of the people I know would agree with me. Does that mean we are all simply on the wrong path, ignoring God's still small voice? Certainly not! There are different experiences with God and his leading. Furthermore, and perhaps most important, people will say a bunch of stupid stuff when up on a stage... even pastors!
There is an undeniable, unignorable, possibly deplorable show element to a Sunday service, which must never be forgotten. The whole atmosphere, on a Sunday morning, is quite tongue-in-cheek, considering the only other institution to deliver authoritative messages, in such a frontal manner, being organised government, to which we hold an estranged relationship at best, has taught us in recent decades to not trust the "man behind the curtain".
And even still, here we stand. A man on a stage telling us that God's words are so clear he has to act. "There is no room for compromise" he said. And what if the curtain falls down and we all find out that sometimes he wonders, just like me, if God really exists, and how the hell he's going to continue to pastor, should his faith not be a strong and the voice of God not be as clear, as he once thought it to be?
No, I am sceptical and cynical of anyone claiming to here the voice of God clearly. Especially when they use themselves as the measurement for clarity.
No, I do not want to hear God's voice as clear as you, Mr. Pastor! I just want to know if he's listening to me and if he really speaks one of my two languages!
Call me strange, but the people who spoke to me the most today were those who said the least. The late coming of the parents with kids in droves, the quick "hello" from the people at the door. The words of encouragement before leaving. Not the guy getting the clear messages from "God Direct", but the second hand smoke of what remained from a personal experience one of those well-intentioned normal people had with a holy creator. Or was it all maybe just smoke?
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1 comment:
Jonathan, my friend.
I wish you could visit our little church. It is the first church I have ever been to that acknowledges and accepts doubt as part and parcel of faith.
That, and our pastor doesn't preach. He talks. He tells us what he has studied. He questions. He thinks.
It isn't all smoke, honey. Faith is a pain in the ass, but (and?) I wouldn't trust it if it were easy.
(I don't know if I am making any sense or not...)
Keep heart, is what I think I'm trying to say. I think we both have a thick cynical streak sometimes, and it's hard to see past that.
I'm trying to overcome it. To not dismiss a pastor or another Christian simply because to them, God's voice *is* clear. Sometimes I'm just jealous of that clarity.
But?
I know God is okay with my fogginess. I believe He loves me, and knows that I am striving to live my life in a way that honors His name--even if I get lost at times.
*love*
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