A Path To Freedom

A Dinner to remember

2007-11-12T16:15:00.000-08:00

The other evening I went out to a very nice dinner with some people. It was lavish, and the people I went with were fellow business people who were being dined by the same sales rep. So it was lavish, and delicious and quite decadent. I enjoyed myself immensely, the food was succulent, the wine tasted of blackberries and pepper, and the souffle at the end was light and airy and perfect. One could get used to eating like that if one could get used to weighing 100 pounds more than they currently weigh.

The company was enjoyable too - I want to preface that before going on here, because I'm merely making an observation on a conversation I found curious. Through the course of talking, I revealed that I was a pastor's daughter, and instantly the conversation changed. They weren't uncomfortable with it because I had already proved myself to be an open, engaging conversationalist, but the conversation did change. Instantly it became focused on the lavishness of the meal, and guilt started to surface within the dialogue.

The discussion started with how one really couldn't eat like this every day, and then it went to justification; stating that if one CAN, then one probably should eat like this occasionally because life is short and we work hard, and then - most interesting of all...one of the individuals speaking acknowledged the fact that there were individuals starving in third world countries..."but I give to charities, so let them eat whatever they're going to eat and I'm going to enjoy my meals!!!"

There was slightly uncomfortable chuckling, and the tide of the conversation turned to other things, but it hung with me and left me feeling a little dirty....because while giving to charities was all well and good....if you've actually seen a starving person, and breathed the hopelessness of the situation, you could never say 'let them eat whatever they're going to eat'.

But then, I think another aspect that made me uncomfortable was that he was merely voicing what I and the American culture say every day in our actions: We'll do what we want to do, regardless of the consequences.

At what point does one draw the line between guilt and conscience? Guilt seems to imprison and conscience seems to lead someone to enacting change - but what if the change that needs to happen is so big that the conscience turns into guilt because there really isn't enough acting to change that kind of problem?

I thought about that quite a bit the next day, the distinction, and how fine it actually is. Something like hunger is much larger than a lavish meal would ever solve. But is excess, even occasionally, justifiable? If I really choose to live my life in a manner that is consistent to living alongside all of humanity and embracing their problems as our problem....when the 'THEM' becomes 'US'; is stepping out for even an evening tolerable, or does that just allow a respite that others don't have the luxury of taking?

I don't feel guilty about the meal, I simply find the spin-offs from that conversation interesting to think about, because for me, it starts to ask some though-provoking questions.

Being Content

2007-11-07T18:19:00.000-08:00

I've been in a bit of a funk lately. I'm of the opinion that the world as we know it is going to end rather soon - perhaps in the next 15 years or so...not The Rapture, or anything so glorious, I just think we're nearing a one-world government and that the American way of life is starting to crumble under the vast pressures of materialism and power.

So...that can cause someone to slip into a bit of a mood. And I've been in one. Yesterday I ate some steamed snow crab legs and cheesecake and mulled it over. I came to the conclusion that perhaps it was not so much that I could happen that bothered me...it's that I rather want it to. And then I had to ask why....and it was very clear to me that I'm so bored with this life that perhaps it would be nice if something (or everything)fell to pieces...spiced things up a bit.

And then you think to yourself how utterly insane that sounds.

I went to Valley Forge today and visited where Washington encamped with his troops during the American Revolution. The sun we setting, the air was crisp and cool, and the leaves were all the colors of fire. I found myself closing my eyes and desperately wishing that there would be some wrinkle in the curtain of time and I would open my eyes and find myself back in the late 1700's.

Because back then, and, I assume, if the world ended; things would really start to matter. Life and death would be part of decisions, stupid people wouldn't make $100,000 a year, urban sprawl wouldn't be an issue, and I could farm away the rest of my life.

Sounds great. But ultimately...I think the bottom line is simply contentment. It's not as if life would be any easier (certainly not!) or any more important, it would just be more exciting (potentially, and perhaps briefly) and that seems better than what I currently have.

And thinking anything is better than what you currently have is probably a pretty good indication that in this mindset, nothing will ever be good enough.

Condemning Ourselves

2007-10-31T07:19:00.000-07:00

My husband and I were listening to a podcast on the way in to work this morning. Marriages seem to flux up and down, good and bad, and we’ve been on the down/bad side for a while. It’s been tiring for both of us, communication seems to go south, arguments flare far too quickly, and we’ve allowed other priorities to bump our relationship to the back burner.

So after a bad time last week, we’ve put ourselves in intensive care. Consciously being kind, spending time together, reading some relationship books and discussing them, cooking together, that sort of thing. And because of that hard work we’ve had a good past week. It’s amazing how things come around when you make an effort to be kind. It’s funny how life tends to apply to other areas of life.

We were listening to a podcast, and he was talking about not allowing the past to taint the present, and we were talking about how that applied in different areas of our life, but hadn’t yet made the connection with our relationship. My husband pointed out how difficult it was to not live in the past, because either something was too big, too bad, or too good to let go, depending on the situation and perception – but it was difficult to move on from particular circumstances. Sometimes it just seems more right if you can punish yourself for them since no one else will.

It then hit us at the same time. If we felt that way about arguments, or painful words and actions within our relationship, there’s no way out marriage would have a snowball’s chance in hell of surviving and thriving, but each of us extended to the other grace in the interest of healing, which we would not afford ourselves.

We each thought about that for a while, and determined if we could be kind and loving with our partner, then surely we could extend that same forgiveness to ourselves. If God does not condemn us, then who are we to condemn ourselves?

It was a powerful conversation, and I think it was yet another step towards freedom from all the guilt that plagues the Christian religious culture.

A God Who Can Dance

2007-10-19T16:20:00.000-07:00

Returning from a business trip I just took, I was able to catch an in-movie flight. Anymore these seem to be the only way I watch anything new that comes out on video, and on this flight I was able to watch “Evan Almighty”. I have to say I really enjoyed the movie – and it made some interesting points that I thought would be worth noting.

First, there’s a point where everyone thinks the main character, Evan, is crazy, and so his wife ends up leaving for a period of time, and taking their three sons with her. As she’s drowning her sorrows in a plate of French fries at a local pub, God appears in the form of a waiter. She says that her husband wanted to change the world, wanted their family to grow closer, and instead all he did was start ranting about some sort of ark and a flood.

In this scene, God makes an interesting point. He asks “When somebody prays for courage – do you think God gives them courage? Or does he present a situation where they can be courageous? When somebody prays to be closer as a family, does God give them lots of fuzzy feelings for each other, or does he present them with an opportunity to become closer as a family?”

What a fascinating point. You never really think of it that way…but I have this feeling that it’s right on. (that will have to be another blog)

Throughout the whole movie, the main character, Evan, does a little victory dance whenever something goes right. At the end of the movie, he sees God standing off in a field as he’s taking his family on a hike, and Evan walks over to talk with him. The two of them discuss what’s happened, Evan talks about how God knew what was going to happen all along, and how his family was saved from a flood, is now much closer, he doesn’t have all that facial hair anymore, and they own a dog. Life is good .

God smiles, and then says – ‘C’mon Evan, do the dance.’

And Evan dances his silly little dance. And God joins in with him.

And in that moment I had this epiphany. I could SEE God dancing with me over my little victories too.

The God I grew up with didn’t dance. He wasn’t joyful. He was stern, a savior, just. Merciful, yes. But a God I could picture dancing with me in moments of pure celebration? No.

And I realized that I was really making progress on this journey when I could see God dancing with me over our all the little things that make my life OK. A great husband, a new house, 2 really good jobs, my beautiful garden with its ridiculously tall cosmos (seriously – like 15 feet high)….all of that. I could hear Him say, ‘C’mon Christa, do the dance. Life is good’.

And He joined me in it.

A good person...

2007-10-12T09:54:00.000-07:00

Over vacation, I had an interesting conversation with my brother. Some of what we talked about is how so much of the Christian faith is trying to be ‘good’…and how so many Christians are actually quite nasty as a group of people.

First, let me define what I mean when I say that Christians are always trying to be ‘good’. If you’ve been to church for more than a few Sunday services, then I’m sure you’ve heard a message on improving your life…not lying, being less self-centered, sharing of your resources, how to be a good example…that sort of thing. I’m sure you’ve also heard the preacher say something to the point of:

“We’re going to pray now, and as you’re praying, why don’t you ask God to point out those areas of your life that need improvement, and as something comes to your mind, ask for His help as you work towards an image that is a reflection of Christ.”

Bleck. Turns my stomach even typing those words.

Here’s the thing: I don’t think that us ‘getting better’ or striving to ‘be good’ is really the point of Christianity…and there seems to be so much focus on it. In Jesus’ teachings, relationship seems to be a major focus. So if you forget about being good...and do nothing but focus on a relationship with God…then a side-effect of that might be that you’ll become something of a ‘better’ person…because you’ll be modeling principals which you know in the core of your heart . However if you’re constantly working on being ‘better’, and the relationship is pushed aside…then you’re going to be trapped in this obsession and not truly ‘get better’ at all.

So many people are worried about presenting the right appearances, the right way of talking, the idea that once upon a time your heart was corrupt and you were a sinner but God fixed that now and boy, aren’t you lucky! You now know sin because other people have talked about it…and once upon a time you experienced it. (On a side note it’s so easy to damn other people to hell as you present this persona you’ve created.) But where’s God in all of it? Where’s your relationship? Why isn’t that shining through?

At this point, while I’m sure there’s always room for improvement…I’m not sure I’m going to improve a lot. My personality is pretty set…from this point on life will probably shape it one way or another, but I am who I am. . . and I’m a person who really wants a relationship with God…not a façade that people are impressed by.

If God really said truth when he said he loved me…and I really believe it…then I’d imagine he loved me as I was and still am…and that he will love me just as much when I’m 80 and haven’t improved a lick…or have improved a lot…it’s unconditional…

But I’d really have to believe that, wouldn’t I?

The Great God of Entertainment

2007-10-10T13:59:00.001-07:00

This post probably won’t be deeply theological in most senses, but something happened yesterday that I think will contribute greatly to the rest of the blog. Let me set up the scene:

I had returned home from work, and immediately turned on a favorite TV show of mine; ‘Heroes’. Greg went upstairs to work on the computer, and I was entertained by the DVR…then I didn’t want to get up once the show was over and decided to catch up on an episode of ‘America’s Next Top Model’. I fell asleep somewhere in the middle of a photo shoot and judging, and woke up grumpy and drained of energy and not knowing which model had been kicked out due to her poor performance. I staggered to the kitchen, meandered upstairs to see what Greg was up to…said hello to our neighbor…and then needed to get some energy going (it was only 6 in the evening) so I decided to go for a walk. Greg didn’t want to come, so I went alone.

I walked and walked and walked. The sun started to set and the sky lit up in pink, so I walked north of our house to a large field that sits on a bluff sheltered by a tall cottonwood tree and I sat down and watched the sun set. It took about 30 minutes. There was a slight breeze and I could hear a high-school pep band playing ‘We will Rock you’ in the distance. A mouse rustled around in the dry grass behind me, and the clouds moved to a brighter and brighter pink…they peaked with a flourish and then started dulling as the sun and its warmth disappeared into the evening. I had a moment of clarity in that, and I got up, dusted myself off and headed back to the house.

Once there, the first thing I did was delete all of the shows I had recorded and all the series recordings that I’m so attached to. Nothing I had watched or was planning on watching could compare to the stillness and beauty of that sunset.

I then went and drew a bath (because it was actually quite chilly out there) and told Greg that I was done watching TV. He had been considering getting rid of it previously, but neither of us had acted on it. With those words he decided he was done too – and within a few minutes all 3 cable boxes were sitting by the door, ready to head back to Comcast.

I’ve felt so programmed lately. With commercials, TV shows, movies, all these things tell you how to live your life and what’s normal and why…and I don’t want to do that anymore – it’s just another institutionalized religion where many things (appearance, food, lifestyle, possessions) are God. I’ve wasted more time in front of the TV than I can count…and I’m done. We agreed to watch 1 show a week together that’s on basic cable (‘House’ for those of you who are curious) and that’s it for me. In a sense the decisions is spiritual for the fact that I need to be more centered, more conscious of the time I spend and how I spend it, of the thinking and learning I do and who I allow to be my teachers. So much of the American lifestyle turns us into brainless robots… and I don’t want that for myself.

So here’s to more time for blogging and thinking…and less time in front of commercials.

Butt Prints in the Sand

2007-09-17T14:05:00.000-07:00

Butt Prints In The Sand

One night I had a wondrous dream,
One set of footprints there was seen,
The footprints of my precious Lord,
But mine were not along the shore.

But then some stranger prints appeared,
And I asked the Lord, "What have we here?"
Those prints are large and round and neat,
"But Lord they are too big for feet."

"My child," He said in somber tones,
"For miles I carried you alone.
I challenged you to walk in faith,
But you refused and made me wait."

"You disobeyed, you would not grow,
The walk of faith, you would not know.
So I got tired, I got fed up,
and there I dropped you on your butt."

"Because in life, there comes a time,
when one must fight, and one must climb,
When one must rise and take a stand,
or leave their butt prints in the sand."

Do you ever feel like this is the image of God that you've been given by leaders in your life? That God is merciful and loving but you'd better get your act together so as not to test Him? I thought this poem was a pretty good capture of that mindset. And it bothers me because I find myself agreeing and disagreeing with it at the same time.

To Church I go....

2007-09-17T11:20:00.001-07:00

Regardless of the conversation with my dad last week, I have been working up to attending a church for about 6 weeks now. Occasionally the idea starts in the back of my brain, I work on it, and then lug myself to some church to see what they're all about.

For this church, I actually met the pastor a few weeks ago when I was in town checking out when a new coffee and gelato shop was going to open up. Turns out the church owns this coffee shop, and the funds from that are going to help support the pastor and his family as they start this church plant.

I thought that was a great idea, was rather impressed, and the pastor was nice enough - so when he invited me to church I said I’d show up sometime. I must confess that I had some high hopes going into this, with all my thinking and struggling I thought how perfect if I could find a church that Greg and I could really plug into and have a good community with.

Silly me.

The whole layout of the service was strange. Being a churchplant, they didn’t yet have a band, so we sang to CDs, which is more or less OK – but they sang SO MANY SONGS that it was ridiculous. Then before he started the sermon, they took the tithes, which wouldn’t have bothered me so much if he hadn’t proclaimed that they do this because they don’t what you to: “Bring any of your junk into the sanctuary of God. We take care of all our business before we enter into God’s presence. That includes our tithes and offerings, and any sin. I can’t stress enough that you need to take care of your business outside of church.”

Which was a little surprising. I didn’t agree with it but I guess I can respect the honesty. I’m not sure where they expect you to deposit ‘your junk’ . . . but clearly not there.

The second item which we addressed before the sermon (which I suppose may have been ‘junk’ too), was that in the office space next to them, a counseling center for convicted sex offenders was looking at renting that space. The pastor requested money from the congregation so that they could rent out that space themselves and therefore keep “Them and their kind far away from us.” Then hastily adding: “we’ll minister to them on THEIR turf, we don’t need them anywhere near us and our children”.

This was a tough one for me. I really think that Jesus would have ministered to them period. I’m just as uncomfortable with the idea of ministering to sex offenders, but I’d like to attend a church where they know how to deal with these kinds of people in love, not just ostracizing them from their society. (This issue could be a blog in and of itself)

Lastly, as he was wrapping up his sermon, (It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t great, I just don’t remember it) he made a rather large Freudian slip. He was talking about Jesus’ sacrifice and said that Jesus had come to“Redeem your miserable little lives.” (that is a direct quote)

Your lives. Not our lives. Big difference…. and all too telling for me. So I left.

I’ll state it again, I do appreciate the honesty that was oozing out of that place. At least it didn’t waste 3 weeks of my time trying to get to the bottom line. It took 2 hours and that was it.

I was a little disappointed, but not crushed. It really wasn’t a shock to the system, just a little surprising how blatant the pastor was. He obviously has been in the game too long, or not long enough. He hasn't reached that polished level of aloofness yet.

Regardless, I think I’d like to pursue the idea of going to a local church a little further, because the idea of community appeals to me. Community with whom is really the question. Hopefully I can find a little more open-minded church with people who don’t have such big problems with bringing their ‘junk’ to God – and a pastor with a bit more experience with what ministry is all about. We’ll see.

Conversations with Dad

2007-09-11T12:00:00.000-07:00

A week and a half ago, my dad called me up at work. This isn't unusual, I like talking to my parents for a few minutes in the morning occasionally. But this morning was different. He was agitated, frustrated, and began a long drawn-out conversation about church.

More specifically, my lack of attendance, and the dire consequences that could be showing up in my life as a result of my lack of attendance. “One man considers one day more sacred than another; another man considers every day alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind.” [Romans 14:5]

I am a very blessed individual. I have a great marriage, a fantastic home with a lovely lawn and garden where the cosmos are high, a cute cat, and we both have nice jobs. Life is good.

My dad seems to believe that if I don’t go to church regularly to ‘fellowship with other believers’ that these blessings could get taken away, because I’m not showing proper gratitude to God. Perhaps, once upon a time, I could see the logic in this – but I don’t anymore. I’m not a rock when it comes to Christianity, or spirituality even – but I don’t believe that about God at all. “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free.” [Romans 8:1]

It’s just stunning to me how painful these conversations are – it’s like my kryptonite – everything I thought I believed solidly comes into question when my dad starts railing at me – because deep down I think he probably knows better – being a pastor and all. My head takes into account what I’ve read, what I know, and it says that there’s no way that God is like some piggybank – but my heart disagrees. All the ‘teaching’ I’ve received from my father points to a somewhat vengeful God.

“God is love, but before even that – God is just.” That echoes in my mind – and it’s not even biblical – but it was drilled into me as truth, and it’s so hard to shake that tiny, damaging statement. So an hour and a half later, after I had repeatedly told my dad that it was no longer any of his business to talk to me about this, and that as an adult I could make decisions and live with those consequences on my own…did I collapse in an emotionally exhausted heap.

The funny thing is, it’s more about my dad’s self-image that he expresses these concerns than anything else. He runs a semi-successful missions ministry, and he is constantly comparing the 4 of his children to all the other fantastic preacher’s kids he meets during his travels. He laments that he’s a ‘failure as a father’ never seeing the irony that he’s failing more now, than he ever has. He would hate for other people to find out the attitude his children really have towards the ministry. He has found much success in presenting a false image to his supporters, and they feed the image by appreciating the fully-put-together-family-package that we all represented when we were still at home. “So whatever you believe about these things keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the man who does not condemn himself by what he approves.” [Romans 14:22]

The problem with that is eventually you start to crave something real. And that’s where I’m at – trying to find something real to stand on. A spirituality which allows you to be yourself – appreciated as such, with other people who aren’t perfect and don’t pretend to be….see why I don’t attend church?

So our conversation ended, and dad, as always, was completely frustrated – and I, as always, was completely exhausted. I think at this point he doesn’t believe my husband, brothers, sister and I are really even Christians anymore….and maybe we’re not – at least by his definition. “Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand.” [Romans 5: 1-2]

The worst part is, that every single conversation we have like this drives me even further away from any semblance of God – I just want to hide, to heal, to run away from the topic and as the topic includes God, to stay away from him too – because my dad’s words are like lashings across my back, and they sting my mind and heart. Not because they’re true, but because they’re hurtful, and calculatedly so. “Accept him whose faith is weak, without passing judgment on disputable matters. Who are you to judge someone else's servant? To his own master he stands or falls. And he will stand, for the Lord is able to make him stand.” [Romans 14:1 & 4]

So rather than encouraging his kids to attend church, he’s really discouraging them – causing even more damage, more arguments, more division within his family, more hurt, more loathing. How is that from God? If he’s really the great spiritual leader he claims to be, how can this come from his mouth? “Out of the same mouth proceeds blessing and curse; my brothers, these things ought so not to be" [James 3:10]

It’s really just painful, and more obstacles to overcome as I continue to press forward on this path that I hope leads to some sort of spiritual freedom. I just wish he’d keep his thoughts to himself. I’d be getting much farther, I think.

May the God of Hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. [Romans 15:13]

A background

2007-09-06T15:40:00.000-07:00

My father is a pastor. My father is one of those black and white pastors who preaches a loving God, and who teaches guilt, condemnation and bondage. I have found growing up that teaching is much more effective than preaching.

I've also found that though it's easy to say that God is a loving God – but that monster god that's been defined for me through all my years has been a very difficult one to shake. He clings to my back and scratches threats in my ears each time I screw up or don't attend church. The enormous amount of blessings I've received in my marriage, work and home all come with the whisperings that it could all be taken away should I continue on this path of selfishness and not get my act together.

And by getting my act together, I mean acting Christian. Going to church, reading the Bible, fellowshipping with believers, praying for my meals, before I go to bed and generally without ceasing, tithing, evangelizing to the unbelievers that they too, might have this Gift of Eternal Life. Oh yes. I know the language rather well.

I've not darkened the door of a church in over a year now - not attended church with any sort of regularity (let's define that by at least once a month) for almost 6 years. I cringe when the bible is cracked open, wince when praise music is played, and shy away from anyone who insists on getting preachy with me. My two brothers and sister are all in different phases of the same state.

The worst thing about all this, is that I WANT to be a Christian, and have that kind of faith that God is good, and loving, and that church is something to look forward to and praying occurs naturally and the Bible is relevant….all of that I would really like to have. It’s not that I think life would be rosy – I’m much to cynical for that – but having some sort of a partnership with God through this life – something to really cling to and believe is appealing.

As of now, each time I try and return to any sort of faith, it feels more like the sinuous twistings of returning to an abusive relationship. The battered woman returning to her lover just to have a few good hours or days before the beating continues again and she has to leave this lifestyle she really doesn’t know how to live without.

Clearly, my definition of God is messed up. And I think that in order to have any kind of freedom, I’ll have to redefine him. How is an entirely different matter, but it’s a starting point.

In the beginning

2007-09-06T15:36:00.000-07:00

I've started this blog to mainly be a diary for any sort of musings I have on Christianity in general, and hopefully, to find some freedom in it all as I search through the rubbish pile of the past and start to move forward into something that resembles a relationship with God. The very fact that I cringe just to put his name down so starkly in this paragraph speaks volumes to the amount of work may just lay ahead.

But, Rome wasn't built in a day, and I suppose any sort of meaningful relationship isn't either. So off I go to blog along my journey.