Growing up in the 60s and 70s, mine is the generation that created the need for the term “generation gap.” We were neat, keen, righteous. They were hopeless. We understood the times, they were mired in the past. I thought I’d always be part of the cool group, the in-crowd. I got older anyway. So I need some help here.
A recent article by Laura Sessions Stepp on CNN’s website reported on a new book by the president of the Barna Group, David Kinnaman. She writes,
Thanksgiving. That lovely holiday, with the family gathered around the table. Soft music plays in the background, snow gently falls outside. Dad is carving the succulent turkey while the children sit quietly in their seats, mouths watering. The conversation circles the table as each person describes the many things they have been thankful for this past year.
Thanksgiving, that hectic holiday. Mom is trying to gather the family, put the final touches on the dinner, pour the drinks, and carve the turkey, all at the same time. At one end of the table, Aunt Mattie is well into yet another stomach-turning description of her recent root canal. At the other end, Uncle Milt has clearly imbibed too much eggnog. Grandpa is complaining that the pouring rain is making his rheumatism flare up. The eight-year-old twins are poking one another with their forks and fighting over who will get the drumsticks, while the football game blares from the TV in the next room. No one has seen Dad in the several years since he ran off with that floozy account manager.
“Hate the sin but love the sinner.” I’m sure that’s Hesitations 3:16, isn’t it? How often have we heard that phrase and just accepted it as gospel truth. But is it?
I have no problem with the idea of loving the sinner. I do that all the time. I love my friends. I love my kids. I love my husband. I even love my self.
Of course, “love the sinner” is usually used with regard to unbelievers. In that case, it’s even more clear. We’re supposed to love our neighbors, no matter what their view of God. Yet, often the church doesn’t do a very good job of this.
Last time I examined some reasons people give for going to church. Today I want to talk about why I go. It isn’t the singing, although that’s important. And it isn’t the sermon, although I enjoy listening and learning. It isn’t even because of the many times I’m intensely aware of God’s presence during the service, although that’s a side-effect of being together. (God meets me in other circumstances as well.)
The main reason I go to church is because that’s where the body is. Following God is something we just can’t do alone.
Over the past few months I’ve written a couple of blogs about my confusion over how to “do” church—one in April and one in May. I explained that at our current mega-church, I felt more like a member of an audience than a member of a family, and that I was exploring other options. At the same time, my husband emphatically wanted to stay right where we are, and I wasn’t going to make any changes without him.
It seemed like a stalemate. Happily, God is pretty amazing. In His wisdom, He had the situation under control and a solution was waiting for just this moment.
Who am I? What is important to me? What have I been up to recently (in terms of years), and what are my dreams?
Check out this photo from the early 1970’s of Pete (second from left) with his five siblings. Next month, for the first time ever, all six of them are all planning to get together, with their spouses, for a three-day family reunion. In addition, they’ve invited their dad (who will turn 90 later this year) and step-mom to join them. This is a Major Big Deal. One sister will be coming from Germany with her husband and one of their four kids. A brother and his wife are flying in from the east coast, and another brother-and-wife are coming from the west coast. Everyone is meeting here in Colorado.
As I’ve mentioned earlier, our finances aren’t in the best of shape. Extremely sporadic paychecks make it difficult to budget—how do you know how much you can spend on something like food if you have no idea when the next check is coming? Then there’s the matter of tithing. You can’t tithe on zero.
Last January, I wrote about how to give to God when we’re broke. I mentioned giving away things we already own, and giving our time. There’s a third way we’re currently giving to God that I overlooked when I wrote that article, even though it’s one we’ve been doing all along: we can practice hospitality.
Desperation Leadership Academy (DLA) is our church’s year-long, full time program for young adults aged 18 to 25. As our website proclaims to prospective students, “It is one year of spiritual training that will put you in an environment to accelerate your love for Jesus, His church, and a world that desperately needs Him.”
Since these students come from all over the country (and some years, even from overseas), they need a place to live here in Colorado. To make the program more affordable, the students are housed by members of the congregation, called “home sponsors,” who sign up to provide room and board for one or two kids from September through July.
As I write this Thursday morning, one of our closest friends is being prepped for transplant surgery. After only eight weeks on a waiting list, the call came that somewhere in Colorado a young man had been critically injured in a car accident. He had signed a donor card and was a good match. What had until now been a theoretical, someday possibility suddenly became, “Let’s go, this is real!”
After talking to the transplant coordinator, our friend’s first reaction was to earnestly pray for the donor and his family. After all, we know from firsthand experience that God can bring to life even the dead, and this man was not dead yet. Our friend was more than willing to wait, should God choose to heal him. But an few hours later came another call—there was no brain function and the doctors were taking the man off life support.
As I mentioned a week and a half ago, I’ve been plowing through lots of books on how to “do” church. My most recent read is Houses that Change the World, by Wolfgang Simson. And I have to say he’s shaken my understanding of church.
The book has been around a while—maybe you’ve already read it. Published in 1998, a number of his predictions have failed to materialize, but that doesn’t diminish what he has to say. (He was merely analyzing trends, not trying to be prophetic, so we don’t need to take him out and stone him.)
In general, Simson argues against churches patterned after the synagogue, with a set routine performed by “professional Christians” in front of a lay audience, and in favor of small “organic” house churches where our faith is lived out in the context of real life. I certainly see his point. He’s very persuasive, and I tend to agree with him more often than not.
I am an introvert. There’s nothing wrong with that—it’s the way God made me. I enjoy people, but eventually they wear me out. I need to be alone to recharge.
I’m sure that living with an introvert has its challenges. A while ago, my wonderful husband (who is trying to understand me, despite the fact that he thrives around lots of people) found this essay online. It was written by Jonathan Rauch, and first appeared in The Atlantic in March 2003. His words certainly struck a chord with me, and apparently with a lot of other people. In fact, this article has received more responses than anything else they have ever published! After you read the original piece, you might enjoy scanning some of the follow-up responses.
If you’re an introvert, you will love this article. For all you extroverts (also spelled “extraverts”) out there, here is how to improve your relationships with the introverts in your life:
Compost 