There have been several times in the past week that I’ve sat down to blog about a particular topic, but I just don’t feel like my thoughts are fully together. I have several things that are swirling around in my head, but either they’re not fully formed or I just don’t have the energy to write about it right now. But I guess the good part of that is that I feel like I am processing through several things right now, mostly things that I’m learning from reading Jesus for President. (which is quickly becoming one of the best books I’ve ever read, I might add)
Here are a few of the things I’ve been thinking of and questions I’m asking myself:
*What are the ways that we are so shaped by our culture that we ignore the teachings of Jesus and see them as irrelevant and impractical to certain situations?
*What is the Church’s proper reaction to evil in the world? If we let ourselves be guided by the teachings of Jesus, how might our involvement look radically different than it does now?
*Given that a Christian soldier is asked every day to choose between his allegiance to his country and Jesus’ commands to love his enemy and not live by the sword, what is the proper stance of the Christian toward military involvement? (Taking into consideration that the early Church refused any military service whatsoever on the grounds that it necessitated a compromise in allegiance to Christ and required violence.)
*What are the areas in my life that I have not followed the words of Christ to the extent that He meant them because I don’t take them seriously enough and/or I’d rather go by my culture’s teachings?
*What are the ways that we unknowingly instill in our children a gospel of moralism based-on performance and right actions rather than a gospel of grace? As most of the people I know are undoing in their adulthood the paradigm that was given to them in their childhood, how can I avoid altogether teaching Evelyne to rate her spiritual success according to how obedient or good she is?
*Should Christians watch violent movies? (more thoughts on that later)
*What are the ways that we are perpetuating injustice, poverty, and violence through our purchasing power at our local stores? What would it look like to withdraw from participation in an economy of injustice? (wow, I seriously have no idea at that one!)
I’m trying to come at these questions from a place of looking at what it means to follow Christ within our culture and without assimilating its compromising views and teachings. I’m trying to break away from what I’ve always been told that a typical American Christian believes on these things…because I’m coming to a place where I find those same answers to not be as Christian as they are American. So I’d love to hear your thoughts on this, but no offense, I’m not so interested in hearing the expected formatted answers that I’ve always heard. I’m not interested in just war theory or Old Testament examples on war and child-rearing. I’m interested in what it means to see the words of Jesus as basis for our life in a new kingdom as a new humanity with our identity as the Church first and foremost. I’m sure I’ll write about these things in more detail later, but for now, any ideas?
I read a little blurb in a magazine the other day about a church in Texas, Episcopal Church of Our Savior, and how they are making a difference in their community. This church of 30 people (thirty….THIRTY!) has donated 18,000 pounds of freshly grown produce to area food pantries, the equivalent of 72,000 servings of fruits and vegetables, since 2003. They do this through a program the church started where people in the community rent garden plots on the church’s 4-acre property for $30 a year. As they garden for their own food, they agree to give 10 percent of their harvest to charity, and everyone works together to tend six plots whose harvest goes directly to charity.
How absolutely amazing is this? What a completely brilliant idea. This is a TINY church making a HUGE difference in their community. First, and most importantly, they are giving food to the poor. Quite a bit of it, in fact. Secondly, they’re being very economical and health conscious by growing their own fresh fruits and vegetables themselves instead of buying a lesser quality at the grocery store. Third, this is a way that the church can serve the community by renting their land and involving them in the project to give.
This is so smart, but so simple. Farming land and giving-away a portion of it is what the people of God have been doing for thousands of years, it’s even a part of Old Testament law. I’ve given some thought to growing a vegetable garden of my own because it’s healthy and cheap, but to do it as a community and corporately give-away a portion of your harvest (not to mention the six plots entirely devoted to charity) is something that I could really picture Jesus being pleased with. After I read this story, I couldn’t get it out of my head. Because this is a perfect example of a church using their imagination and resources (little though they may be) to show the love of Jesus to the hurting and hungry. They stepped outside of the box on this one. They didn’t ask for a canned food drive (which probably wouldn’t produce nearly as much food in a church of 30 people), they didn’t organize servers for the local soup kitchen (still a great thing), they used their own effort and sweat to grow something fresh and good from the ground. They used God’s resources to feed the people who need Him. And in doing so, thirty people have fed thousands.
Couldn’t we, with all of our churches who are most likely quite a BIT bigger than 30 people, use our imaginations to come-up with ways to meet needs in our community in a such a simple and needed way? For all of the big budget megachurch “outreach programs” I’ve come across, I wonder which church has a better reputation in the community for love and generosity? I’m guessing the one whose squash they’re eating.
I’ve thought a lot lately about gender roles and what it means to be a woman in the Church. This is a HUGE topic that I’m not really willing to write about in any great detail because it still feels rather overwhelming to me. However, I was talking to Clay about something the other night that has bothered me for years. It seems that it is a common thing in the church for people to make assumptions about the intellectual and theological depth of women that generally has nothing to do with individual abilities.
I think I’m definitely more aware of this as a female with a seminary degree since my kind is a minority. My feelings on this subject have also changed in the past couple of years, and as I look around I notice other people thinking the same things I used to think… and I see it a bit differently. What I notice is that there tends to be an underlying prejudice against women in areas of intelligence and theological depth. Men are considered to be deep and wise pillars of theological truth. Women, on the other hand, well they generally like to be emotional and relational and more into the touchy-feely side of faith. Which is fine, as long as their husbands keep them informed on the deep stuff.
These fictitious stereotypes are more a crossover of cultural prejudices against women than biblical exegesis. No distinction is made in the Bible concerning which sex receives certain spiritual gifts or intellectual capabilities. Being a thinker doesn’t make a woman more masculine, and being relational doesn’t make a man more feminine. Both attributes could be used to describe Jesus, in whose image we are all being formed. So I’m a little pained when I find myself thrown into a category of stereotyped femininity that bears no resemblance to who I am and what my gifts are.
I’ve noticed that men and women alike have a tendency to automatically assume that a man is more trustworthy and intelligent about certain matters… who would you rather teach you about the nature of the Trinity…The Gospel of Matthew…Old Testament prophecy? A man or a woman? Forget for a moment about any convictions you have regarding whether it is a woman’s role to publicly teach in church. That’s not what I’m talking about. A concept of roles should refer to position, not ability. Do you really believe that a woman can have the same level of understanding and knowledge, the same wisdom, and the same ability to convey the the Gospel as a man? When I asked myself this question I was shocked to learn that subconsciously over the years I had come to trust in males more than females. Females are thought of as flighty and emotional, subject to their whims (after all, isn’t that why everyone says we shouldn’t have a women president? She’d be too emotional to do her job?). Sure this might describe a woman here or there, an anecdote that we’ve heard. But where is our justification for not seeing women as intellectual equals with men…particularly in areas of the church?
Everyone is different. Some are more naturally “thinkers,” and some are “feelers.” These refer to our personality traits, not abilities. Women who naturally interpret their world through their senses and emotions have no fewer capacities for knowledge than a man who often finds himself pondering the deep questions of the universe. I have a strong suspicion that too many women have never been challenged to really think deeply, to study theology, to be challenged in asking tough questions about God. They’ve stuck with their label of “feelers,” (whether or not that’s a true personality distinction) and assumed that the men, the “thinkers,” will handle the rest. In no way do I think that being a thinker is more valuable than a feeler… I’m still not even sure which one I am. But I’m bothered that the church assumes women are not interested or capable, and women are never pressed to go deeper.
Girls, we’re emotional, we cry, we raise kids, and we do the laundry. But we also have the same intellectual capacity as a man. I think we readily admit this when it comes to matters of career and academics. But in spiritual and theological areas, there is still a tendency to think that men have a corner on the market. Let’s challenge ourselves, let’s create a bigger imagination of our capacities, and let’s remember that we are created in the image of a God who made all of His children equal.
I saw a story this morning on Good Morning, America and it really made me sad. here is the full story. Basically, a Catholic church has issued a restraining order against an autistic young man and is making it against the law for him to attend. The church is citing a potential danger to others by his attendance since apparently he is rather large and unruly. The family has been attending the church for years and takes great care to keep him under control. They also claim that he is of no threat to other people.
It sounds like a really tough situation. He is loud and disruptive during the service, though the family sits in the back or the cry room. People are nervous around him because he’s unpredictable. But what is the Church if it’s not a place for the sick and rejected? Apparently the church has taken several steps to try to find a different solution, but even if those don’t work, should they really be taking legal measures against someone who has a medical disability and is being consistently taken care of by his family during services? Is this what Jesus modeled and taught His followers?
The boy’s mother was interviewed on tv this morning, and she was saying how her son needs the church and to be taught about God and it is really hard on the family to be rejected from the one place that should welcome them with open arms. It makes me think of all of the sick and demon possessed people that Jesus embraced, no matter their behavior or rejection from society.
Obviously I can’t know all the ins and outs of the situation, but it makes me really uncomfortable to hear that a church is turning to the law to keep someone who can’t help his behavior out of the best place for him to be. I just can’t see how that is in any way following in the footsteps of Christ and being ministers of reconciliation in a broken world.
Alan Creech had a great post the other day about prayer. Here was my favorite part:
“Another thing is that prayer is not just some isolated “thing” we do here and there: pray to ask for help or for things; pray to get forgiveness; pray so that we don’t have a car accident; stop and pray so that your sister won’t go to hell, etc., etc. Prayer is more than that. It may include things like that from time to time, sure, but it’s not just that. It is the opening of ourselves to God. This is why we are told to pray without ceasing. There are many different ways to pray. This should be obvious. So somehow, always, wherever we are or whatever we’re doing, we can be “at prayer” in some way, even if it’s just saying to ourselves that we are open to God, we are listening. Our mind can chew on things - we can meditate even without candles and music and silence. Sure, there are particular ways to pray and we should be doing those things, praying in those ways. But we need to come to realize that prayer is sort of a way of being, a constant attitude, both inward and outward. And as we open ourselves, God is there to “come in” and do the work that only He can do.”
This is not a view of prayer that I was taught growing-up. How does something like this fit into all our acronyms of what prayer is supposed to be? (ACTS- Adoration, Confess, Thanksgiving, Supplication, etc…) However, over the past few years I’ve discovered that this is the type of prayer that I comes most naturally to me. The kind where there really aren’t any words, no dialogue. Intentionally opening my heart to the Spirit of God and breaking the monotony of living my life on autopilot is what grows me. I think that’s what is meant by “walking in the Spirit.”
I live most of my life with a heart that is functionally closed to experiencing God and listening to Him speak. I go about my day, I have conversations, I read, I think…. but usually it has to be a very intentional thing for me to stop and say, “wow, I haven’t opened my heart to allow God into my experience.” I go about my business and I’m paying no attention to whether my heart is receptive to Him. I’m not listening. I might as well be doing all this by myself.
I think there is a sense in which God “comes in” when we turn-off the autopilot and open our hearts… but probably more than a picture of Him coming-in is the reality that He is already IN. If we are believers, His Spirit has become one with our soul. And the Spirit in us is always doing something…growing us, changing us, calling “Abba, Father!” on our behalf.
But I’m not very attentive to the Spirit in me. My Christian tradition has not been very responsible with teaching me how to pay attention to what is going-on in my soul. Sure, I guess I’m supposed to do that in my “quiet time,” but what about every other part of my life? What about during an actual worship service, when is there ever a moment of quiet space to give opportunity to pay attention to what’s going-on in our hearts and what God might be doing in us? Amid fast-paced worship music and “prayer request” times, I think Evangelicals have lost touch with how to be attentive to the Spirit and our own souls. There is only one place that has consistently encouraged me to see prayer as an opening of the heart to God…to live and breathe in that space….that worship and prayer is about creating a space to pay attention to the life of the Spirit in my soul and to be open toward what He’s doing in me. I think this is why I’m so attracted to more liturgical styles of worship, because those people get it. Prayer is more than a dialogue with God. (do you think when Paul said he was “praying without ceasing” that he meant he was constantly talking all the time with God in dialogue format?) Prayer is more than asking for things. Prayer is even more than telling God how great He is. As Alan Creech said, all those things are definitely a part of prayer. But I think we tend to make them the whole….and we forget that before you can even do any of those things authentically, it must begin with our soul turning-off the autopilot to invite Him in and finding a way to live every bit of our lives in a constant state of openness and listening.
iMonk has written a great post about why he’s “happy enough” being a Protestant despite sharing a few similar beliefs and desires of fellow Catholic and Orthodox believers. He speaks for those of us who are not ignorant or closed-off, rather we have opened our hearts to learn, and while maintaining a deep respect and appreciation for those traditions, we remain unchanged in our desire to be Protestant. He has invited his readers to write their own statement of why they are ”happy enough” to remain in the Protestant church, and here is my contribution.
I’ve had your typical Southern Baptist upbringing, devoid of creeds and anything resembling tradition older than 20-30 years, and full of suspicion for any church, particularly Catholic, that did not share our version of the truth. My experience with those of the Catholic church was limited to friends who had no true faith or knowledge of what their church was really about, so my assumption that Catholics probably weren’t “real” Christians appeared accurate.
My world was rocked when I studied spiritual formation and spiritual direction in seminary. Suddenly, I was reading Augustine, Julian of Norwich, Henri Nouwen, St. John of the Cross, Teresa of Avila, St. Francis of Assisi…and being surprised when I noticed that they had a very vibrant faith! I spent time taking retreats in monasteries, reading their literature and watching their monks. Over time, my eyes were opened to the wealth of the history of the Church that I had never known. I was introduced to the beauty of Mass, liturgical prayers, and the richness of contemplative worship.
Over the next few years I started to feel a little alone in the evangelical church as my desires for liturgy and a greater connection with tradition were lost in the world of loud worship bands and trying to do everything new. Several of my friends converted to Orthodoxy which led me to learn more about another completely unfamiliar stream of Christianity. I’ve stayed open about hearing where God wants me to be, and for now, I am completely “happy enough” being a Protestant.
I desire and reasonate with a worship style that is quiet and contemplative, and though I have deep appreciation for the Catholic and Orthodox services, I’m “happy enough” that there is much freedom Protestant worship. I’d rather be a part of the solution in terms of opening my Protestant brothers and sisters to the riches of liturgical worship instead of abandoning ship and going where the contemplation is. The beauty of Protestant “freedom” is that we CAN have a church that worships similarly to a Catholic service…we can light candles, sing the same songs, recite liturgy, and hang a crucifix. Those things don’t have to be mutually exclusive to Catholic worship, and I think it is within the realm of possibility that Protestantism could open to that in some places. I’m appreciative that within Protestantism there is an acknowledgement that God speaks in different ways and we are free to respond to Him in more than one prescribed way. There is a potential for great balance in worship styles in the Protestant church, and I know I’d miss the celebratory nature of my church’s worship.
I’m “happy enough” being Protestant because as iMonk said, “The debate about ‘what is the true church?’ is not a compelling one for us, because we believe that all of us who belong to Christ are joined with him in his church.” I fully embrace the idea of the universal church, and I could not leave behind Protestantism’s robust theology of a personal faith that saves despite church affiliation. I love working together with different traditions of Christianity, learning from, and sharpening one another. Each stream has strengths and emphases that do not look the same in other manifestations of the Church. I see Protestantism as the place where those streams have the most potential to converge and create an ever-deepening understanding and experience of Christ as we learn from one another instead of closing our ears and looking inward.
I’m extremely grateful for the work that is being done in evangelicalism with the poor and oppressed all over the world. While of course we don’t have a corner on the market in compassion, Protestants are highly motivated to serve and evangelize. The modern missions movement has its flaws, of course, but creativity, passion, love, and worship are hallmarks of those who risk their lives every day for the love of the Savior and His people. I’m very happy to be a part of a tradition that places great emphasis on seeking-out those who are walking in darkness and showing them the Light of Christ.
Although I’m grieved over the divisions caused by the Reformation and wonder if change could have occured within the Catholic Church rather than splitting from it, I see ways God has brought good from it. I desire for Protestantism to honor historical tradition, to bring our beliefs and practices more in line with the early church, and I think that because of the nature of Protestantism as consistently changing and growing, there is real possibility of that happening. I’m happy to sit under the teaching of ancient mystics and church fathers, yet I see them as fallible humans who didn’t have all the answers either. I’m also happy to be taught by modern spiritual teachers whose faith and gifts of the Spirit I can’t deny.
I am “happy enough” to be a Protestant for many reasons other than these, mostly just theological convictions I can’t let go of. Part of me is very attracted to the Catholic and Orthodox traditions of faith, and they stir-in me a desire for greater connection and unity in the Body of Christ. I love the mysticism that I see in their worship. I think there is a lot that Protestants should learn from them. Have I considered the concept of converting? Of course. But at the end of the day, I can’t quite bring myself to agree with everything that I’m told I must agree with in order to join one of these churches, and I’m quite satisfied that Protestantism has a wide-open future full of potential for growth and change ahead of it. In the meantime, I’ll keep listening to and learning from my Catholic and Orthodox friends, my heart will remain open to the Truth found in their traditions, and I will look for opportunities of greater unity and closeness among us.
I wouldn’t consider myself a liberal. Not politically. And I couldn’t align myself with all of the self-proclaimed liberal positions of Christianity, so I don’t think I’m a liberal Christian either. However, a few of my thoughts and positions on things have definitely shifted in the past few years. I tend to still think of myself as a Christian conservative, but it seems like every day I see another reason why I’m probably not that either. At least not in some of the positions Christian conservatives would define themselves by.
I really don’t care about labels because Jesus surely didn’t go around claiming to be liberal or conservative… what I do mind is when people slap a label on you, such as “liberal,” in order to discount your point of view without really having to listen to it. Or even, labels aside, when people refuse to truly consider another theological point of view because then they wouldn’t fit quite so neatly into the package of the ____ Church. I think Evangelicalism has become such a subculture (especially in the South!) to where we have these concepts of what is okay and what is not okay/weird/liberal despite what Biblical evidence might say.
Here is my point: There are several issues within Christianity that the Bible is not crystal clear about. People on both sides of these issues cite the Bible as evidence and reason for their stance on the issue. People on both sides love Jesus and seek with honest hearts to follow him in the most biblically accurate way possible.
Here are a few of those issues:
Women in church leadership
7-day creationism
free will/sovereignty of God
church government structure
role of psychology in the spiritual life
gifts of the Spirit
complementarianism vs. egalitarianism in marriage
significance of the Lord’s Supper
infant baptism vs. believer’s baptism
I realize that I’ve left-out many issues and points of conflict within Christianity, but those are the ones that immediately come to my mind. Some of these issues are rarely debated, and some of them draw intense debate and strict line-drawing for who is “out” and who is “in” our little circle of knowledge. A handful of these issues are ones that I’ve changed my mind about recently. In doing so, I’ve noticed a real prejudice among some Evangelicals. I’ve noticed a tendency to write-off my position because “that’s not what the Bible says” despite the fact that it’s the Bible that actually made me change my mind. I’ve noticed how easy it is to slap a label of “liberal” upon anyone who might believe differently than the prescribed position, and in doing so, transport them to the camp of “those people who don’t really believe the Bible.” This lets you off the hook for exploring the possible truth of where I’m coming from. Because if I’m “one of them,” then you don’t have to listen to what I say since you already know it’s wrong.
Please do not misunderstand me. I believe very strongly that God has a definite opinion on these issues, and there is a truth to be discovered. I’m not saying that it doesn’t matter what you believe about these things or that you shouldn’t feel confident about what you see revealed in the Scripture. I am saying, however, that people on both sides of all of these issues would point to the Bible as their foundation for understanding. Both feel confident that God is the one guiding them. Of course they can’t both be right, but how much of that can we really understand in this life?
What if we showed each other the grace to acknowledge that while you may hold a different opinion on something than me, I realize that my understanding of the Bible could be flawed, you could possibly know something I don’t, your position on ____ does not make you a heretic, and you just might love Jesus as much as I do. How about we listen to each other. How about we realize that our blind statements of “because it’s what the Bible says” and “that’s unbiblical” may be a slight overstatement in light of the fact that I’m trusting the authority of the Bible in the same way you are. What if we were open to listening to different ways of interpretation that might be unfamiliar and scary before deciding that they’re wrong. What if we saw the person on the other side of our issue as we do ourself…seekers of truth amid diffcult issues…not someone who is in flagrant disregard of what God teaches.
I’m not a liberal, but I may not believe some of the same things you do. Let’s listen to each other and search the Scriptures and heart of God together. I won’t call you a “fundie” if you don’t call me a “liberal.”
about when we started making judgements on whether someone is or is not a Christian based-on a test of theology? I’ve been thinking about this off and on. Evangelical Christians tend to have somewhat stringent requirements for belief. While we will proclaim ’til the day we die that it is by grace that we are saved and not by works, we turn the very concept of grace into a marker of faith that keeps many who would call themselves Christians on the “outside.” We doubt the faith of entire churches because we disagree with part of their theology.
“True Christians” believe the following:
1. Salvation is a gift, not based-on your works. So, if you’re not totally clear on that, and you still wonder if justification is based-on your actions, you probably aren’t a real believer.
2. Jesus was the Son of God, a member of the Trinity, fully God and fully man, born of a virgin, without sin. Perfect Christology.
While I would agree with that theology, I’ve noticed a tendency in some to let good theology be a checklist that helps us determine if someone is really a believer. Others will add many more requirements to this list like believing in a literal 7-day creation, belief in the Trinity, etc… Maybe I’m missing something, but I just don’t see anything in the words of Jesus that point to a requirement of having perfect theology in order to follow Him.
I notice in the Gospels that Jesus calls people in a very simple way: “Come follow me.” He asks that they leave everything behind, count the cost, and follow Him as a disciple. A disciple is a learner, one who sits at the feet of a teacher. These people left behind their old lives, gave-up everything for love of Jesus, and oriented their life around following His teachings. The good theology came later, I imagine.
What if it’s really that simple today? What if someone can belong to a church that we think teaches heresy, have an unclear understanding of how salvation actually works, be confused about the nature of God and the Trinity—and still love and follow Christ with a wholehearted devotion? What if it’s more about the person of Christ than about what He represents….more about knowing and following Him than learning about Him. Maybe we should judge the fruit of a person’s life rather than his theology.
Of course, believing and understanding what is true about God can lead to greater intimacy with Him, just like the more I learn about who Clay is, the more I love him. And we should always be pursuing truth about God, staying open to learn from others and for Him to reveal Himself. But should we cast doubt upon someone’s eternal soul based-on imperfect belief? Jesus said to judge a tree by its fruit: a good tree cannot produce bad fruit, a bad tree will not produce good fruit. If someone truly knows Christ and the Spirit has transformed their hearts and made them one with Him….the fruit will come.
Ok, once again iMonk has another awesome post (he’s really on a roll lately! I’m in the middle of writing another post about his blog, I promise I’m not a stalker!). I read it, I said, “wow. yeah. totally.” and then thought, “hmmm, maybe I should comment on this on my blog.” And then I thought, “I don’t think I have anything extra to say that he didn’t say already.” So, I’m just gonna link to it and say, “What he said.”
for the church that doesn’t exist. Once again, iMonk nailed it with his post about what he’s looking for in a church but never seems to find.
Not surprisingly, his list could pretty much be mine. So many of these qualities and identities seem conflicting, but I really don’t think they should be. While I’m happy with our current church, there’s still a part of Clay and me that longs for more. Our current church gets SO much right…much more than most churches I’ve been to, I think.
“Worship is expressive and comfortable with both charismatic and catholic manifestations of piety.Worship is formal at times, and relaxed and informal at others.”
I would love to be more open to other Christian traditions, particularly those that have a liturgical-style worship (Catholicism, Orthodoxy, Episcopalian, etc…) and incorporate many of the strengths they hold. Being that I come from a Baptist tradition, we tend to ignore the idea that we could be missing something in our worship. Sermon? Check! Music? Check! Offering? Check! Hmmm, could we possibly be missing so much more? I feel a longing to participate in a worship style that’s more liturgical, meditative, and quiet…. I crave silence and space to listen to the Spirit and what He’s doing in my heart during worship, and for me, drums, an electric guitar, and constant noise don’t always facilitate that.
“The creeds are central and the confessions are appreciated, but all human statements of theology are received with a humble and critical spirit.”
I want a church that sees the creeds of our faith to be a great connector of worshippers across the world and time. I’m ashamed to admit this, but I don’t think I had ever really heard the Apostle’s Creed or the Nicene Creed until I went to seminary and was in a more ecumenical environment. I was confused, and honestly, I felt a little cheated that I had been denied this teaching all my life. These were great declarations of faith and theology that have been used by Christians for centuries, and when I read them aloud in worship alongside other believers, I felt truly connected to the great cloud of witnesses that have gone before me. I felt like the declarations of “this is what I believe” became a strong foundation of what I would and would not waver-on, following in the long tradition of earlier saints. I long to be in a church that embraces creeds and regularly recites them in corporate worship. There’s just something to be said for hearing your voice blend with that of other believers in a strong statement of what is true about God and our faith.
“The Table, not the altar, is the frequent focus of worship.”
I can’t help but wonder if my tradition has unintentionally trivialized communion. Why is it such a small part of what we do when it is the absolute central part of worship in other traditions? Maybe the answer is somewhere in the middle, but that means we’re missing something. In what way is the bread and wine the Body and Blood of Christ? How do we know it’s just symbolic? My first thought is that that seems like a pretty modern, rational, scientific way to approach it. Could it be much more of a mystical reality than that? I just have a nagging feeling that it’s meant to be more than what we’re making it, and perhaps there is a sense of Christ’s Presence in the bread and wine that we make no effort to acknowledge.
“The divisions among Christians are lamented, and an ecumenical spirit is celebrated.”
One of the biggest eye-openers I had when I was at ISF was that, oh my gosh, Catholics are Christians, too! It sounds silly now, but for the first time I really learned about the history of the Church, Catholic worship and practices, and spent time in Catholic monasteries. While I can’t agree on every theological point of theirs, I was amazed at the richness of tradition and practice they have—that we completely ignore!
Growing-up, the question wondered outloud was, “Can you be a Catholic AND be a Christian?” As though the two were mutually exclusive. Evangelicalism tends to breed a distrust of the Catholic church that often leads to the assumption that they’re probably not real Christians because they’re not A, B, and C. Without getting into details of the differences of our two faith traditions, let’s just say that I long for a church that is OPEN to other traditions, seeks unity with other churches, works together in the city with other denominations, and draws from other worship practices to incorporate those things we lack in our own tradition.
“Leadership is plural and both genders are included.”
My current church does the plural leadership thing wonderfully, and it’s made such a difference from my experience with other churches. What I would love to see is more women in leadership positions. I’m currently re-thinking my opinions and positions on the issue of women in ministry, and I must say I’m starting to become more of an egalitarian. I’m reading Sarah Sumner’s Men and Women in the Church and I feel like I’m being opened to new possibilities that I had never let myself consider. I wonder if God’s intentions for me have always been greater than I would allow myself to imagine. I would love to be a part of a church that encourages women to use their gifts in every area of ministry.
iMonk’s list says it all, I really can’t think of what I would add. The things listed above are the things I’m currently feeling a lack of in my present church, however I’m a part of a community that is doing so many other things on the list RIGHT. I see bits and pieces of these characteristics in different churches and denominations, but it seems like where there is strength in one area, there is also lack in another part. It’s hard to determine the fundamentals sometimes, what do you go for and what do you compromise on? I know Clay and I will be considering qualities like this when we search for a new church in Seattle…..anyone know of one?
