Lost at Sea

I’m a crier. Like, I am not sure it’s normal. Ask anyone who knows me well. Actually, ask anyone that knows me even a little. If you’ve ever watched a touching movie with me, or Oprah, or good Lord … a sweet commercial, you’ll know that I get misty eyed reeeaall easy-like. For that matter, if you’ve ever looked for a shirt in my store, you’ve seen me cry. This is not made up, people;  I cried the other day with a customer named, Stacey, because I was telling her the story of what we do – that we strive to help women love themselves, and I just plum lost it. Every email I send to my employees, telling them stories of who we’re capable of reaching and touching, has tears behind it; I assure you.  When my mom and I talk, we spend at least 30% of our conversation stumbling upon the subjects of children in poverty, uneducated good-folks trying to make a living, and gallant Christian women we admire. And yes, we end up crying. I have had to tell my mother to be careful about calling at work … because, well, I don’t know why I care – because I’ve already cried around those people.

I admire crying in other folks. My husband is fairly even-keel, but let me tell you something – and please keep this between you and the other 500 folks that view my blog – that man cries at inspirational YouTube videos. We joke at my work about how “fun” it must be to get invited to our home … Keith and I have literally found ourselves lost in a pile of used Kleenex, after a good run of “No wait, watch this one …”. My daughter cries when “cute birdies” get hurt in cartoons, and I find it endearing.  My father, a police officer and picture of controlled professional-emotion, is not afraid to cry. I have watched him in the pulpit, as he speaks of God’s tremendous grace, cry. And I have sat with him in conversations when I was twelve about his hurting over my abusing his trust, or at age twenty-eight when I wanted to know how to move forward when marriage got hard. His advice has many times included honest tears.

Just this past Sunday, at the end of a long and emotional debate within ourselves over where we should attend church, the answers were suddenly clear as we sat in the congregation of a priest who freely cried in the midst of the pomp and circumstance of his dress robes. Reading from a book, he began to describe a character’s experience of serving AIDS patients. The prose, a beautiful and vivid picture of humble servitude, brought him to choke on his own tears and emotions as he, no doubt, reflected on this phenomenon in his own life and in the life of his congregation.

And I, a product of parents who see Jesus in the lowliest of folks … I, who sees God most clearly among those who cannot possibly repay a favor … I, who struggles to accept God has placed me in a position to serve those in privileged classes … I, who feels most at home in the tiny impoverished town I was raised in… I felt God speaking to the very core of me and I … I held my breath in the most vigorous of attempts to not cry in church. Because, my Friends, I hate crying in church and I avoid it in high stakes.

Is this to say it never happens, that I never lose that tiny bit of control I hold in the tightness of my throat and swift swipes of my finger to my eye? Of course not, it’s happened. But it doesn’t when I can control it. And I assure you, it’s a practiced discipline – the art of keeping my natural tendencies from happening at the foot of the Holy of Hollies. But at some point in my adult life (I recall freely crying as part of worship during my adolescence when I didn’t know better than to bring honest emotion to the Father), I decided it was embarrassing, possibly inappropriate, to cry in church. Or, perhaps, at one point I realized I wasn’t crying tears of appreciation and love for the Father, but tears of remembrance for the mistakes I had made. Maybe I was afraid that people would judge me, or assumed they would know they were seeing tears of guilt. I dunno. But I don’t cry in church.

And then I think of the old hymn, “There is a fountain filled with blood, drawn from Immanuel’s veins; and sinners, plunged beneath that flood, lose all their guilty sins”. There is a fountain, in all of us who profess to know Christ. And wouldn't it make sense that when we are in His presence, when we are hearing His word, and listening to Him speak through His loyalist of servants, that something would spring from that well? It makes sense, too, then – that in those every day moments of grace, my fountain would begin bubbling up. From the Life Source, the Ultimate Spring, comes the physical outpouring and offering of grace in the form of salty tears. So what’s the catch? Why a generous well in my every day, and the nervous turning off of a valve when I am in the presence of other Believers?

Ah and there it is. It’s not a matter of crying “at church” I am afraid of, it’s a matter of crying with “The Church”. Sniffle a little with someone who doesn’t share my faith, and I have provided a powerful witness. Get misty-eyed with another Believer here and there, and we feel the very real and comforting presence of The King. Cry with a body of Believers, though, and suddenly one risks (or perhaps seals a fate of) merging one fountain with many. The Spirit that lives in me longs to pour out and meet you where you are, as parts of the Body that He lives and functions in this world through. And I guess, as marvelous as it all sounds, the recognition of my small part in an infinitely larger purpose that I cannot possibly see or fully understand, causes me to gasp and hope I don’t let my small sense of control be lost in the sea of Who We Are.

The uncomfortable, and equally undeniable, truth is this: I don't want to know what God is capable of doing in my life. And while the smart seventh-grader refuses to do his homework in hopes of being "cooler", and the talented young-gymnast rebels by not going to practice, so do I refuse to plug into anything that would bring about the full greatness of God's work in my life. Let me taste Your Goodness, oh Lord, but keep me, I pray, in the smallness of the world I know and love. Baptize me in the cool refreshment of your Blood, but keep me from the immersion of living and sharing with Your People.

Perhaps you're not a crier. Perhaps when the Spirit pours out of you, it is in song - and yet you will not sing at church. Perhaps the Anointment in you touches and collaborates with the Anointment in fellow Believers when you share revelation of Scripture - but you're much more comfortable doing that with close friends, certainly never in you small group. Perhaps you are a Truth Sayer, and you know this - but also know it offends people, so you keep it for the friends you know won't abandon you. Or, maybe you've prayed for deliverance, and have seen answers, but wouldn't want attention on yourself by sharing this at church. Consider this, my Friends: maybe it is not the possible negative consequences of your sharing that you fear at all. Maybe what you fear is the powerful potential of a great spiritual confluence. Maybe you know, as I do, that life would never be the same - and something about the same seems comforting and safe.

I think of the aging praise-song, "Let. The. River. Flow."

Father, you are an all-knowing, all-powerful, and unknowable God. And yet, we know you. We know you on an intimate level, in a way servants rarely know their King. Lord, know that within my love for you lay the confusion of what it means to fear you. Remove the unhealthy desire to be afraid, instead of to fear. Give me the sort of reverence that causes quite the opposite of hesitancy, but a passion to jump right in. Draw out of me the pieces of You that to connect with the places You reside in others. Let my willingness to spill You out be what draws Your Spirit from others.

May we all dive in.

JNACK

Five Things You Need to Know About Your Christian Friend

1.       She has no connection to, nor does she have the desire to be connected, in anyway, to Westboro Baptist Church.

That’s right, the kooky group of hateful idiots that refer to themselves as “Westboro Baptist Church”, do only that … they refer to themselves with words that are also commonly found in the name of actual Sanctuaries of Worship. Please do not assume that this group has any actual influence in the Christian community, that the Christian community has any actual influence on this group, or that this group deserves near the press it gains every time it shows up somewhere uninvited.

Using Westboro Baptist Church to ascribe feelings and/or stances to your Christian friend or to the overarching community of Christians is much like using a violent gang member, who happens to be black, to ascribe characteristics to a black man. It’s offensive, don’t do it.

2.       He has probably never sat in a church service, ever, where he was influenced or encouraged to hate someone for having different beliefs or living differently than he does.

Funny thing, I have attended literally thousands of church services in my lifetime. I have attended Baptist services, Catholic services, Assembly of God services, Disciples of Christ services, Church of Christ services, Dutch Reformed services, Episcopal services, Lutheran services, Presbyterian Services, Nazarene services, Non-Denominational services, and Methodist services. I have attended weddings, music services, revivals, prayer services, private Bible studies, and school-mandated services. But never, in my thirty years, have I attended a service where explicitly, or implicitly, I have been told it is acceptable on any level to hate someone for being different or believing something different than I do. It would be near impossible for any church, claiming to serve Christ as the Messiah, to do so – it’s against the very nature of the teachings we honor … God is the very definition of Love.

Acknowledge that your friend is part of an historic religion that practices a strict way of living. Disagree with the sanctions put in place by your friend’s faith. Discuss with him why he believes in the standards set forth in his religion’s Holy Scriptures, just as you would with your Jewish, Islamic, or Buddhist friend. But please, don’t call him “friend” and then viciously attack him for attending a secret-society of hateful meetings that do not exist.

3.       You might not realize it, but she faces daily discrimination for her beliefs and, in many cases, is treated as a second-class citizen.

Listen, no thoughtful, intelligent Christian will try to deny the advantage of her peoples for the last several hundred years of Western history. We have pretty much been on top of the world! Our cultural values have reigned supreme; our political alliances have shunned those not in alignment with our way of life. And for a time, our standards were what it meant to be “American”.

But here’s the thing, in 2013, and for those savvy enough to be reading a blog, your Christian friend probably never enjoyed the Christian-benefit of the 50s. Your friend is most likely a child of the 70s or 80s, and grew up in the America that listened to feminists say her faith isn’t in alignment with new reproductive-rights standards, or in alignment with new sexuality standards, or with new consumer standards.

Your friend was most likely raised in a school system that inaccurately applied laws, after a series of lawsuits. She was told she couldn’t pray at the cafeteria table, that she couldn’t write a paper about her God, that she couldn’t start a Bible club, and that she couldn’t hand out information to her friends at school about an after-school church event.

Your friend is stared at uncomfortably if she uses the word, “Christian”, “Evangelical”, or “Jesus” in a public place. She faces termination is she mentions the words at her job, and she is shunned out of any political or social-advocacy discussions, because of the immediate presumption she is an ignorant, closed-minded bigot.

She knows she enjoys amazing religious freedoms, and she doesn’t take them for-granted. She also knows that much of the martyrdom and government-sanctioned discrimination of her peoples in other parts of the world started with laws and movements she is seeing in her own country.

Tread lightly: you can disagree with her stances, but try to admire her for keeping them.

4.       He is very possibly pro-choice, pro-gay marriage, and pro-Obamacare.

If you have a friend that is a Christian, care enough about him to learn a little more about the way his religion is organized. The theology that makes an individual identify with the Christian Church is a belief that Jesus, a recognized historical figure, was the Son of God, sent in human form. From this belief stems an array of doctrines (particulars for the way the overarching theology is carried out). While there will be sticklers in ANY movement or belief system (that has to do with personality, not creed), the vast majority of Christian peoples leave room for disagreement on the lines drawn between these doctrines. As so well put by St. Augustine, “In essentials: unity, in non-essentials: liberty, and in all things: charity.”

Baptists, for example, take an organizational stance that the consumption of alcohol can so often lead to hurtful behavior that it is best to abstain entirely. Quite the contrary, wine will be served, assuredly, at every Catholic or Lutheran function! Many denominations within the Christian faith place emphasis on social justice through charity work, while others place more emphasis on in-house ministries, such as touching lives through Bible study and music services.

It would follow, then, that there are Christian peoples who believe they honor God’s calling by loving the women facing abortions, loving the gay community by supporting legalization of gay marriage, and supporting social healthcare as a means of protecting God’s children. Others believe they are honoring God as the only Determiner of life by opposing abortion, His instructions for marriage in Scripture by opposing gay marriage, and a call for faith communities to support people in need instead of governments supporting people, by opposing Obamacare.

It might be hurtful and frustrating for your Christian friend to spend countless coffeehouse discussions in support of gay marriage only to see you bash his entire faith community on facebook, with the accepted view that “they’re all the same”.

5.       She didn’t write the rules.

Within the reality that lots of Christians carry out God’s Calling in lots ways, comes the necessary acceptance that without Holy Scriptures and definite rights and wrongs and absolutes, a religion is just an elaborate club. Maybe you believe that is exactly what religion is to begin with … an elaborate club. Whatever your stance on religion (many a secular sociologist can lead you to the conclusion is serves a valuable place in society), you can surely agree a person who pushes her own religion’s values and cultural heritage to the side must surely be loosely committed, if committed at all.

Do you need to agree with everything your Christian friend believes? No. Should you be able to openly and respectfully discuss your Christian friend’s opposing viewpoints? Yes. But please, don’t act shocked and mortified that she won’t abandon her Christian denominational sanctions just because they offend you, or the majority of the public, for that matter. In the same way an American Islamic woman wears her hijab, despite modern cultural acceptance of women’s choices; your Christian friend might “wear” her views on gay marriage, or abortion rights.

Please … she is honoring her religion. She did not write the rules, and she is struggling to apply her Holy Scriptures in a world that tells her they’re unacceptable. She is praying, she is discussing, and she is seeking. Let her honor her religion, and keep conflict of issues separate from criticism of her faith.

JNACK