So I'm leading a large part of our Ash Wednesday service this evening, and I wanted it to be more of an experiential prayer piece. I'm handing out little squares of burlap (cut from a feed sack) and asking the people to smell it, hold it, rub it's rough texture against their skin. I'm tying it to the Old Testament idea of "sackcloth and ashes," but the real empahsis is on repentance.
I started thinking about how people use Lent to give up chocolate, TV or coffee. I know the idea is to sacrifice throughout the season, but I think we've made it a contest or a bit of a joke by making it so trivial. In my former church, the pastor and I used to joke that the church does "death and dying" really well, but we don't do "celebration and joy" well at all. As I think about it, we focus so much on the death of Christ, but what about the journey to get there?
Lent was originally a season of reflection and repentance as new converts prepared for their baptism on Easter Sunday. The symbolism was walking a journey with Christ and turning away from the things that harm your soul. In fact, "repent" means "to turn away." It's not the simple "I'm sorry, forgive me" concept that churches often present. If Lent is the season of reflection and turning away from what harms the soul, then our kick-off of the season should point the way.
So, I designed a reflection around this burlap and repentance. The key is for each person to have time to reflect on the things that they need to turn away from this season. Perhaps they need to turn away from pride and seek reconciliation with someone. Maybe it's to turn away from anger and seek healing or to turn away from self-righteousness and seek forgiveness. It could be a need to turn away from the comfortable and take steps to do what God is calling them to do. It could be a need to turn away from noise or busyness and to seek time in silence and solitude so they can hear God speak to them. These are the things I am posing to my fellow travelers this evening. This is the challenge for this season of Lent. I'm hoping that they will be encouraged to turn away from whatever is harming their souls and to turn towards Jesus, who offers beauty instead of ashes.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Transforming Theology: All the Answers
From Reclaiming Church, p. 59: Christians sometimes aruge that this dynamic history of transformation ended with Jesus Christ. In him, it is said, we have finality and completeess, so tha tonce the meaning of this event was settled by the church no further transformation has been desirable. Change after the kerygma was proclaimed, the canon closed or the creeds fixed is heresy. For those who think this way, renewal is indeed the correct response. Although there may be room for contiuing to interpretation and reformulation for the sake of intelligibility in different cultural contexts, there is nothing of relevance to be learned from other sources.
If God created the world to change, grow, evolve... why shouldn't our faith and our practices as the church? and are we to assume that we (or they) knew all there was to know of God at the time of the canon, creeds or even Christ? Did they have a complete knowledge of all future times, future cultural pressures on faith and future perspectives?
Similarly, we can't assume that we have all the answers for all of time either. We have to do the best we can with what we know, but I think it's a contant pursuit. Thus, "transforming" rather than "formed" or even "transformed."
As for renewal, we've settled into this pattern of renewing behavior or ideas, but we haven't done a very good job of changing anything substantial or teaching people to think. Behavioral change for the sake of fitting in has contributed to the problem. This fits with the westernized interpretations of much that we believe in oldline churches.
If God created the world to change, grow, evolve... why shouldn't our faith and our practices as the church? and are we to assume that we (or they) knew all there was to know of God at the time of the canon, creeds or even Christ? Did they have a complete knowledge of all future times, future cultural pressures on faith and future perspectives?
Similarly, we can't assume that we have all the answers for all of time either. We have to do the best we can with what we know, but I think it's a contant pursuit. Thus, "transforming" rather than "formed" or even "transformed."
As for renewal, we've settled into this pattern of renewing behavior or ideas, but we haven't done a very good job of changing anything substantial or teaching people to think. Behavioral change for the sake of fitting in has contributed to the problem. This fits with the westernized interpretations of much that we believe in oldline churches.
From Reclaiming Church, p. 31: This does not mean that pastors and lay people in large numbers must study the writings of academic theologians. It does require that church people recognize that unless we reflect seriously, as Christians, about who we are and what we are called to be, we continue to drift into decadence. ... If we continue as present, the losses may be gradual, but there is no end in sight. If we commit ourselves to follow Christ as best we can, there is no guarantee of numerical growth. There is, however, a chance that the renewed authenticity will attract new people and become the basis for a new beginning.
I guess this is all that I, and others like me, are hoping for. I'm not looking to work within the church to create the next mega-church or the next marketing wave. I simply want my local church and my students to learn to think about who they are and what we, as a local congregation and as "the church," are called to be. The entitlement and decadence that has crept into our lives needs to be challenged, and the motivation for doing so can't be "a new program to encourage church growth." I think this type of change in a local church will actually cause the numbers to drop a bit, but those who do come to the church will notice that something is different, and hopefully, they will help us reclaim and rebuild what was intended.
I have a friend who says that church would be great if they just posted the "Let's Pretend" signs on the door so that everyone knew what to expect. What would happen if this commitment to think and be real actually happened in a church and the "Let's Pretend" signs could be destroyed? Think how much impact that could have on a community!
I guess this is all that I, and others like me, are hoping for. I'm not looking to work within the church to create the next mega-church or the next marketing wave. I simply want my local church and my students to learn to think about who they are and what we, as a local congregation and as "the church," are called to be. The entitlement and decadence that has crept into our lives needs to be challenged, and the motivation for doing so can't be "a new program to encourage church growth." I think this type of change in a local church will actually cause the numbers to drop a bit, but those who do come to the church will notice that something is different, and hopefully, they will help us reclaim and rebuild what was intended.
I have a friend who says that church would be great if they just posted the "Let's Pretend" signs on the door so that everyone knew what to expect. What would happen if this commitment to think and be real actually happened in a church and the "Let's Pretend" signs could be destroyed? Think how much impact that could have on a community!
Transforming Theology: Responsibility
From Reclaiming Church, p. 23: The vast majority of lay people and even most pastors deny that they are theologians. For them, theology is something to be done by scholars in universities and theological schools. Lay people and pastors do not understand themselves as responsible to think as Christians. Such responsibility as they accept is for the operation of the church, the adjudication of disputes that arise within it, and moral judgments in response to issues posed to them, usually by the secular world.
When did the business of church become more important and more acceptable than seeking to know God? Why have we encouraged this behavior and this pattern?
Also, I work with a pastor who sees himself as a theologian. However, by his own admission, he'd much rather sit in a comfortable chair and discuss theology than actually act on his convictions. The acceptable perception is that the "scholars" should sit and talk about theology, and the rest of the church should just get busy and do something. Theology rarely informs or influences the action. Why have we allowed this to be the case? When did we expect people to either be theologians or worker bees?
When did the business of church become more important and more acceptable than seeking to know God? Why have we encouraged this behavior and this pattern?
Also, I work with a pastor who sees himself as a theologian. However, by his own admission, he'd much rather sit in a comfortable chair and discuss theology than actually act on his convictions. The acceptable perception is that the "scholars" should sit and talk about theology, and the rest of the church should just get busy and do something. Theology rarely informs or influences the action. Why have we allowed this to be the case? When did we expect people to either be theologians or worker bees?
Transforming Theology: Feminist Issue?
From ReClaiming Church, p. 18: We are left with an increasing sense that no one knows, or much cares, who or "what" God is. The church cannot call for ultimate devotion to such an uncertain entity.
I'm not convinced this is just a "feminist" issue as the author claims. I think the narrowed vision of God occured as part of an effort to make Christianity palatable for Americans who just want their faith to enhance their lives and bring them prosperity. I think the real culprit is the sell-out to a consumeristic culture that requires little and promises much. We have consistently left out the cost of following Jesus. We (as the church) haven't done a very good job of painting the whole picture or encouraging people to seek after God as a priority.
This is evident in my youth ministry. Parents and students say they want to learn to be followers of Jesus. Give them a choice between a prayer retreat, mission trip and soccer camp, and they'll choose soccer camp every time. Encourage your students to take a year off after high school to do short-term mission work and watch what happens! I guarantee the parents won't be thanking you. And heaven forbid if you might even insinuate that basketball, the marching band or a student's full schedule of AP courses might be harming that child's soul...
In effect, we have watered down the vision of God because we want people to like our church, to like our services and to give money to pay our bills. Challenge the people, turn things upside down, suggest that maybe some of their thinking is a bit off... people leave and go to the church down the street. There's always another church ready to offer a nicer, safer vision of who God is so that you don't have to do anything that might be uncomfortable or even hint at real sacrifice.
I'm not convinced this is just a "feminist" issue as the author claims. I think the narrowed vision of God occured as part of an effort to make Christianity palatable for Americans who just want their faith to enhance their lives and bring them prosperity. I think the real culprit is the sell-out to a consumeristic culture that requires little and promises much. We have consistently left out the cost of following Jesus. We (as the church) haven't done a very good job of painting the whole picture or encouraging people to seek after God as a priority.
This is evident in my youth ministry. Parents and students say they want to learn to be followers of Jesus. Give them a choice between a prayer retreat, mission trip and soccer camp, and they'll choose soccer camp every time. Encourage your students to take a year off after high school to do short-term mission work and watch what happens! I guarantee the parents won't be thanking you. And heaven forbid if you might even insinuate that basketball, the marching band or a student's full schedule of AP courses might be harming that child's soul...
In effect, we have watered down the vision of God because we want people to like our church, to like our services and to give money to pay our bills. Challenge the people, turn things upside down, suggest that maybe some of their thinking is a bit off... people leave and go to the church down the street. There's always another church ready to offer a nicer, safer vision of who God is so that you don't have to do anything that might be uncomfortable or even hint at real sacrifice.
Transforming Theology: Loss of Shared Convictions
When thinking about the loss of shared convictions, I wonder if our fast food culture isn't to blame for some of this. It's hard work to dig into theology and determine beliefs. The church has tried to make it easier by telling people what to think, do, believe and/or behave. Our worship service structure even revolves around this. We center our services around a sermon where we tell people what to think and what to do. We've spoon-fed people for so long that they no longer see the need for a personal pursuit of theology or a need to allow what little theology they do have to impact their lives.
It's kind of like deciding you're hungry and then pulling into the nearest drive-thru. What you eat is determined by the menu of that particular fast food joint, and you accept that and go for it. If, at any point, you get tired of that or have a problem with that, you just drive on down the road to the next fast food joint. There isn't a lot of thought involved. It's just what you do.
It's kind of like deciding you're hungry and then pulling into the nearest drive-thru. What you eat is determined by the menu of that particular fast food joint, and you accept that and go for it. If, at any point, you get tired of that or have a problem with that, you just drive on down the road to the next fast food joint. There isn't a lot of thought involved. It's just what you do.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Transforming Theology: Intro to Reclaiming Church
These are some of the things that stood out to me as I read the intro of John B. Cobb Jr.'s Reclaiming Church:
Movements flourish when their members are passionately committed. Christianity has flourished when Christians have been convinced that their faith is of supreme importance to them individually and collectively and also to the world. These convictions call forth deep personal commitments and willingess to sacrifice.
Personally, I think that the passion in most times of the church flourishing was inspired by the commitment and willingness to sacrifice. The church seems to have flourished the most when it has been forced underground, when there is a need to sacrifice in order to be a part of the church. There's something about our comfortable lives and our comfortable churches that drains the passion from us. Perhaps it's simply too difficult to imagine sacrificing for anything, let alone our faith?
But today in the oldline churches, this is rare. ... More often the leadership holds it together out of institutional loyalty while losing most of those who have strong convictions and find that htey can act on these better somewhere else. Those who remain are the lukewarm.
Again, I've found this to be true. I see people pulling together to build homes for those who are homeless, provide food for the hungry, care for the sick, visit those in prison, clothe those who are naked... all completely outside of the church bubble. It seems to me that Jesus mentioned doing these very same things in Matthew 25, and yet the church would rather hear sermons on Matthew 25 than actually do any of these things. On the rare occasion that someone decides they should act on it, a collection is taken for a particular cause. I'm not knocking those who are willing to help pay for such efforts, but it seems to me that writing a check isn't a really transforming experience for most people. So the committed leave the church frustrated with the inaction, and they join efforts such as the ONE campaign, genocide prevention, programs that care for children or the homeless, AIDS prevention and assistance programs, building organizations. Those who have the strong convictions about their faith are finding places to minister and to "have church" outside the church and church organizations. In many cases, this leaves the church institution struggling to teach and motivate the lukewarm and the apathetic. No wonder our churches are dying a slow and painful death!
We inspire no passion. Need I say more? Except that I think we do inspire passion. We (as the insitutionalized church) inspire passion for the "club" mentality. We inspire passion for marketing and finding "better" ways to get people to join our club. We inspire passion for the status quo and making sure that no matter what happens in our culture or our community, we keep the church as a steady constant. We inspire passion for a routine and a comfortable rut. We inspire passion for a certain style of music or preaching. Unfortunately, none of these "inspired passions" have anything to do with mission, with searching for truth, with seeking God wholeheartedly, with faith in action.
The problem of the oldline churches is more commonly that expectations are too low...
Again, I've found this to be all too often true in my experiences. I expect the confirmation students to embark on a journey of self-discovery and God-discovery; I'm told that I just need to tell them what to believe and get it over with. I expect jr. high students to actually seek God in silence and various prayer practices; I'm told they aren't capable of being quiet and still. I expect the students to learn and discuss something during our youth group sessions; I'm told that I should just play games and do whatever it takes to get them through the door... I've had all these experiences with youth. Ironically, the youth have risen to the challenge. Though there are some struggles initially, they actually want the bar to be raised. It's the parents and the entrenched "church people" who complain the loudest and demand that expectations be lowered. Maybe I'm crazy, but I expect that people who seek God through a church should be challenged to actually seek God! I expect that they shouldn't just talk about it, but act on what they believe. I expect that hearts and souls and lives should be transformed through the process, and I expect that we should continue to become more and more like Christ - to each other and to the world outside our church bubble.
I think most people want to be challenged. I think most people want to belong to something that isn't easy, that costs them something. I think most people don't put much thought into their faith because we've made faith/church/theology too easy to be worth the effort.
Movements flourish when their members are passionately committed. Christianity has flourished when Christians have been convinced that their faith is of supreme importance to them individually and collectively and also to the world. These convictions call forth deep personal commitments and willingess to sacrifice.
Personally, I think that the passion in most times of the church flourishing was inspired by the commitment and willingness to sacrifice. The church seems to have flourished the most when it has been forced underground, when there is a need to sacrifice in order to be a part of the church. There's something about our comfortable lives and our comfortable churches that drains the passion from us. Perhaps it's simply too difficult to imagine sacrificing for anything, let alone our faith?
But today in the oldline churches, this is rare. ... More often the leadership holds it together out of institutional loyalty while losing most of those who have strong convictions and find that htey can act on these better somewhere else. Those who remain are the lukewarm.
Again, I've found this to be true. I see people pulling together to build homes for those who are homeless, provide food for the hungry, care for the sick, visit those in prison, clothe those who are naked... all completely outside of the church bubble. It seems to me that Jesus mentioned doing these very same things in Matthew 25, and yet the church would rather hear sermons on Matthew 25 than actually do any of these things. On the rare occasion that someone decides they should act on it, a collection is taken for a particular cause. I'm not knocking those who are willing to help pay for such efforts, but it seems to me that writing a check isn't a really transforming experience for most people. So the committed leave the church frustrated with the inaction, and they join efforts such as the ONE campaign, genocide prevention, programs that care for children or the homeless, AIDS prevention and assistance programs, building organizations. Those who have the strong convictions about their faith are finding places to minister and to "have church" outside the church and church organizations. In many cases, this leaves the church institution struggling to teach and motivate the lukewarm and the apathetic. No wonder our churches are dying a slow and painful death!
We inspire no passion. Need I say more? Except that I think we do inspire passion. We (as the insitutionalized church) inspire passion for the "club" mentality. We inspire passion for marketing and finding "better" ways to get people to join our club. We inspire passion for the status quo and making sure that no matter what happens in our culture or our community, we keep the church as a steady constant. We inspire passion for a routine and a comfortable rut. We inspire passion for a certain style of music or preaching. Unfortunately, none of these "inspired passions" have anything to do with mission, with searching for truth, with seeking God wholeheartedly, with faith in action.
The problem of the oldline churches is more commonly that expectations are too low...
Again, I've found this to be all too often true in my experiences. I expect the confirmation students to embark on a journey of self-discovery and God-discovery; I'm told that I just need to tell them what to believe and get it over with. I expect jr. high students to actually seek God in silence and various prayer practices; I'm told they aren't capable of being quiet and still. I expect the students to learn and discuss something during our youth group sessions; I'm told that I should just play games and do whatever it takes to get them through the door... I've had all these experiences with youth. Ironically, the youth have risen to the challenge. Though there are some struggles initially, they actually want the bar to be raised. It's the parents and the entrenched "church people" who complain the loudest and demand that expectations be lowered. Maybe I'm crazy, but I expect that people who seek God through a church should be challenged to actually seek God! I expect that they shouldn't just talk about it, but act on what they believe. I expect that hearts and souls and lives should be transformed through the process, and I expect that we should continue to become more and more like Christ - to each other and to the world outside our church bubble.
I think most people want to be challenged. I think most people want to belong to something that isn't easy, that costs them something. I think most people don't put much thought into their faith because we've made faith/church/theology too easy to be worth the effort.
Transforming Theology - Church Decline
I didn't get any further than John B. Cobb Jr.'s first paragraph of Reclaiming Church as I started my reading and contributions to the Transforming Theology project.
Cobb states, "I have become distressed about their [the church and theology] growing separation and the rsults htis has had for both. The church has come to identify theology with what professionals do. Since what professionals do has been increasingly determined by the norms of the university rather than by the needs of the church, the church has lost interest in what it understand to be 'theology.' Too often the result has been that the church has ceased to think about its own life in terms of its faith, a faith that has itself becom vague and unconvincing. This is, I believe, the deepest cause of the decline of the oldline denominations."
As someone who has been working for the last 6 years in an oldline denomination, I have seen this first hand. In my own journey, as theology became increasingly more important to my faith and my transformation, I felt the need to share this discovery process with others. As a youth leader, it was natural that I began to encourage my students to develop their theology. I mentioned this to a parent who freaked out. It turned into meetings with the pastor and the leadership, during which the pastor and I patiently explained that theology was simply learning about God, God's attributes and searching for truth. That was OK with this parent (who had grown up in the church) until we moved from "just study" to action. It seems that a number of people are OK with knowing about God and Jesus, but when that knowledge turns into practice, it disrupts their nice, safe, comfortable lives and is totally unacceptable.
I've found this to be true in a number of church scenarios. Let's talk about God, figure God out, even debate various aspects of how the theology should change us, but don't cross the line and actually do something as dictated by your theology. The result is a lot of talk and no action - something that accounts for much of the "hypocritical" status that the rest of our culture often uses to define us. The church has become more and more an institution concerned about learning stories, learning beliefs, learning specific behaviors that make you nice and might appeal to others in your community. Ironically, it is this desire to control beliefs and behaviors that have pushed so many away. In my experience, people outside of the church or people who have been rejected by the church are much more likely to have at least begun exploring theology - or seeking of God and truth - in a mcuh more interesting, authentic and comprehensive way.
Cobb states, "I have become distressed about their [the church and theology] growing separation and the rsults htis has had for both. The church has come to identify theology with what professionals do. Since what professionals do has been increasingly determined by the norms of the university rather than by the needs of the church, the church has lost interest in what it understand to be 'theology.' Too often the result has been that the church has ceased to think about its own life in terms of its faith, a faith that has itself becom vague and unconvincing. This is, I believe, the deepest cause of the decline of the oldline denominations."
As someone who has been working for the last 6 years in an oldline denomination, I have seen this first hand. In my own journey, as theology became increasingly more important to my faith and my transformation, I felt the need to share this discovery process with others. As a youth leader, it was natural that I began to encourage my students to develop their theology. I mentioned this to a parent who freaked out. It turned into meetings with the pastor and the leadership, during which the pastor and I patiently explained that theology was simply learning about God, God's attributes and searching for truth. That was OK with this parent (who had grown up in the church) until we moved from "just study" to action. It seems that a number of people are OK with knowing about God and Jesus, but when that knowledge turns into practice, it disrupts their nice, safe, comfortable lives and is totally unacceptable.
I've found this to be true in a number of church scenarios. Let's talk about God, figure God out, even debate various aspects of how the theology should change us, but don't cross the line and actually do something as dictated by your theology. The result is a lot of talk and no action - something that accounts for much of the "hypocritical" status that the rest of our culture often uses to define us. The church has become more and more an institution concerned about learning stories, learning beliefs, learning specific behaviors that make you nice and might appeal to others in your community. Ironically, it is this desire to control beliefs and behaviors that have pushed so many away. In my experience, people outside of the church or people who have been rejected by the church are much more likely to have at least begun exploring theology - or seeking of God and truth - in a mcuh more interesting, authentic and comprehensive way.
Transforming Theology
OK, so I started this blog as part of this project called "Transforming Theology." You can read more about the project and see what's happening there at this website: http://transformingtheology.org/
I joined the project because the rebuilding of my faith and consequent healing process from all my abandonment issues, rejection by the church, pastoral abuse, etc. was linked with my ability to rethink all that I thought I knew of Christ. As I developed my theology, it transformed who I was, how I viewed myself, how I approached life and how I approached others. I had help along the way from various authors from Henri Nouwen to Tony Jones and Brian McLaren. I had help from supportive people who understood the need to take this journey. I recovered my faith through the conversations about theology, and I began to see the importance of not blindly accepting what you've been taught. Now I question everything and am involved in a constant pursuit of truth. I attempt to teach my studnts this pursuit, and it is because of the transforming capabilities of my attempt to define what I believe that I believe this is so important to the church (as people, not institutions).
I joined the project because the rebuilding of my faith and consequent healing process from all my abandonment issues, rejection by the church, pastoral abuse, etc. was linked with my ability to rethink all that I thought I knew of Christ. As I developed my theology, it transformed who I was, how I viewed myself, how I approached life and how I approached others. I had help along the way from various authors from Henri Nouwen to Tony Jones and Brian McLaren. I had help from supportive people who understood the need to take this journey. I recovered my faith through the conversations about theology, and I began to see the importance of not blindly accepting what you've been taught. Now I question everything and am involved in a constant pursuit of truth. I attempt to teach my studnts this pursuit, and it is because of the transforming capabilities of my attempt to define what I believe that I believe this is so important to the church (as people, not institutions).
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Direction
The first person that walked through that valley of hurt and despair with me was Larry. He had been my spiritual director at the retreat, and it was through him that I began to see myself as having value and being loved.
Larry has this thing about making sure that everyone knows they are the beloved of God. I wasn't even remotely capable of believing that when I first met Larry, but he was persistent. He loved me and cared for me. He helped me to see that others loved and cared for me. He even believed I was the beloved of God enough for me to consider that I might be. You might say that he believed enough for me when I couldn't believe it myself. Eventually, with some help and guidance from Larry, I began to believe this basic truth for myself - and about myself.
Larry also taught me to pray with bubbles. There's something joyful and happy about bubbles that just doesn't allow you to sit in self-pity, despair, stress or sorrow for too long. It was a great release - to pray (scream, yell, cry, etc.) about my situation and all my hurts while blowing bubbles. They floated away on the breeze, rose up to the heavens, popped on the grass or simply swirled to an end on the end of my bubble wand. The thing about bubbles is that they don't last, you can't hold on tightly to them, and no matter what you do, they can't be taken back once they are blown. Eventually, I learned to do that with my hurts and stresses. Bubble by bubble, bit by bit, I began to release all the things that were beyond my control. Slowly, all those hurtful things began to lose their power over me, and a joy that I hadn't felt since I was a small child began to creep back into my life.
Larry has this thing about making sure that everyone knows they are the beloved of God. I wasn't even remotely capable of believing that when I first met Larry, but he was persistent. He loved me and cared for me. He helped me to see that others loved and cared for me. He even believed I was the beloved of God enough for me to consider that I might be. You might say that he believed enough for me when I couldn't believe it myself. Eventually, with some help and guidance from Larry, I began to believe this basic truth for myself - and about myself.
Larry also taught me to pray with bubbles. There's something joyful and happy about bubbles that just doesn't allow you to sit in self-pity, despair, stress or sorrow for too long. It was a great release - to pray (scream, yell, cry, etc.) about my situation and all my hurts while blowing bubbles. They floated away on the breeze, rose up to the heavens, popped on the grass or simply swirled to an end on the end of my bubble wand. The thing about bubbles is that they don't last, you can't hold on tightly to them, and no matter what you do, they can't be taken back once they are blown. Eventually, I learned to do that with my hurts and stresses. Bubble by bubble, bit by bit, I began to release all the things that were beyond my control. Slowly, all those hurtful things began to lose their power over me, and a joy that I hadn't felt since I was a small child began to creep back into my life.
Saving Faith
Even while I was at the "church from hell," my faith crisis began. I remember sitting at a friend's kitchen table and saying, "I know I'm a youth pastor, and I know that I'm supposed to be helping other people grow their faith. But right now, I'm not even sure God exists."
I did eventually move on from God's existence because there were just too many things that I had experienced to let go of God completely, but I did wonder if God really cared about me, about life, about anything. It seemed to me that the only connection with God was church, and all the church cared about was filling the seats and the offering plates. This, combined with my personal experiences there, led me to a point where I was ready to walk away from everything.
But my best friend just couldn't let me go. Even though he was dealing with his own crisis of faith, he couldn't bear to see me walk away. He arranged for me to go on a retreat that changed everything for me. It was a Sabbath retreat designed by Youth Specialities, and it was basically a 5 day prayer retreat. Although it was not normally something I would have pursued, the idea of having 5 days of quiet and rest appealed to me since I was being used and abused at that church. It wasn't the rest that saved my faith though.
I walked into a small group of people who genuinely cared about me and cared what was happening to me. I experienced a kind of love and care there that I had not experienced before. That is the moment that I now say that Jesus grabbed hold of my life - all my life. Everything was miserable for me, and so it wasn't that big of a deal to give it to Jesus and to these people who loved me, right?
As Mike Yaconelli used to say, "Jesus gets a hold of your life and he ruins it." That's exactly what happened to me. After having a taste of what the church is supposed to be like and starting to actually believe that I was worth something, I couldn't let that connection go. I had found a connection with Jesus outside of the church itself, and I couldn't bear to let the church destroy what I had found. In the process, I had to surrender way more than I had bargained for. It was this desire that ultimately led to my being fired from that church. I lost everything that I relied on for security, and I embarked on this journey of searching for healing and truth - a journey that I wasn't really sure I wanted to take.
In the midst of this, there were a number of people who walked through that disasterous early part of my healing journey with me. Had it not been for them, I probably wouldn't be here today. Some of these people were personal contacts who loved and cared for me. Others were authors and speakers who caught my attention and started shaping who I would become.
I basically threw out everything faith-related that I couldn't confirm by my own personal experiences and started over. When I reached into my "Sack O' Faith" as one friend calls it, I discovered that most of what was there had been shoved into the bag without any thought or meaning. The hard work of my real spiritual journey was just beginning.
I did eventually move on from God's existence because there were just too many things that I had experienced to let go of God completely, but I did wonder if God really cared about me, about life, about anything. It seemed to me that the only connection with God was church, and all the church cared about was filling the seats and the offering plates. This, combined with my personal experiences there, led me to a point where I was ready to walk away from everything.
But my best friend just couldn't let me go. Even though he was dealing with his own crisis of faith, he couldn't bear to see me walk away. He arranged for me to go on a retreat that changed everything for me. It was a Sabbath retreat designed by Youth Specialities, and it was basically a 5 day prayer retreat. Although it was not normally something I would have pursued, the idea of having 5 days of quiet and rest appealed to me since I was being used and abused at that church. It wasn't the rest that saved my faith though.
I walked into a small group of people who genuinely cared about me and cared what was happening to me. I experienced a kind of love and care there that I had not experienced before. That is the moment that I now say that Jesus grabbed hold of my life - all my life. Everything was miserable for me, and so it wasn't that big of a deal to give it to Jesus and to these people who loved me, right?
As Mike Yaconelli used to say, "Jesus gets a hold of your life and he ruins it." That's exactly what happened to me. After having a taste of what the church is supposed to be like and starting to actually believe that I was worth something, I couldn't let that connection go. I had found a connection with Jesus outside of the church itself, and I couldn't bear to let the church destroy what I had found. In the process, I had to surrender way more than I had bargained for. It was this desire that ultimately led to my being fired from that church. I lost everything that I relied on for security, and I embarked on this journey of searching for healing and truth - a journey that I wasn't really sure I wanted to take.
In the midst of this, there were a number of people who walked through that disasterous early part of my healing journey with me. Had it not been for them, I probably wouldn't be here today. Some of these people were personal contacts who loved and cared for me. Others were authors and speakers who caught my attention and started shaping who I would become.
I basically threw out everything faith-related that I couldn't confirm by my own personal experiences and started over. When I reached into my "Sack O' Faith" as one friend calls it, I discovered that most of what was there had been shoved into the bag without any thought or meaning. The hard work of my real spiritual journey was just beginning.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
The Church from Hell
My first full-time ministry position landed me in the church from hell (as I affectionately refer to it now). They were all about making converts and building up church attendance, and this was often at the cost of digging deeper. Questions were not allowed. People were asked to leave the church if they didn't support the pastor and his views 100%. If you made mistakes publicly, you were asked to leave. "People like that" weren't allowed to be associated with the church. All that mattered was the number of people who "said the prayer" and "checked the box" each week.
I entered ministry thinking that working for a church would be easier than working for the public schools. I imagined staff meetings as a time of sharing about what really mattered, praying and connecting. I imagined that the pastor would actually care about the state of my soul. I imagined that the leadership would truly care about and for one another. I couldn't have been more wrong.
Within a few weeks, I discovered that I was expected to work crazy long hours each week. Vacations and days off were not an option for me. Although the senior pastor seemed to only work 10-15 hours a week, I was expected to work 65, then 75, and eventually 85 or more hours each week because "it's for the Lord." I was systematically cut off from all those who were a support system for me because I "needed to be set apart." I found myself being told I didn't know how to pray correctly. I was leading worship, and I was repeatedly criticized because I didn't worship correctly. I didn't connect with the right people, and I defended the wrong people. I was in trouble because the youth program was ministering to "the wrong kids." I was being used and abused - mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and to some extent physically - and I had no idea it was even happening.
After almost three years, I was so totally entrenched in this system that I actually believed the pastor when he would say things like, "Go ahead and try to find another position. No one else will hire you." After a 90+ hour work week, the pastor called me in and told me that I needed to spend more time at the church because I wasn't meeting all of his expectations. He demanded that I complete an 8 week devotional and a full curriculum on love prior to leaving (in 2 days) for our spring mission trip. When I pushed back saying it couldn't be done in that short amount of time, he told me, "I know we're reading this book where all the people who were on staff together loved each other so much that they all retired to the same community, but right now, I don't think I even want you as part of this team, let alone to be with you for the rest of my life." I left his office and collapsed in a heap in my own office. My best friend (and the only person in my life that the pastor hadn't scared away) was also there, and he couldn't take watching the abuse any longer. I couldn't have escaped that situation on my own, and I didn't believe my friend when he pointed out what was happening. He arranged for me to attend a retreat, and it was that retreat and the loving people that surrounded me there that saved my life.
When I returned home from the retreat with a clearer understanding of what was happening at that church, I demanded a few changes in hopes that the people of the church would be godly, loving people and would still care for me like I thought church people could. It never actually got to the people of the church. The leadership team told me to "suck it up," and when I revealed to them what had been going on, they threatened me. It seems that the building project was contingent on the pastor's approval rating, and they couldn't risk anyone knowing what had been going on with the staff. Within three months, I had been fired. The church people were told I had another job elsewhere. My compensation was dependent on me not having any contact with people from the church or in the community. I was even told that I had to do my grocery shopping late at night when most people wouldn't be in the store.
I lost everything - my house, my job, my friends, even the guy I was seriously dating. I left there wounded and bleeding from the soul. I had been questioning the very existence of God, and had it not been for a few loving souls who walked with me through this devastating experience, I would have walked away from ministry and my faith completely.
I entered ministry thinking that working for a church would be easier than working for the public schools. I imagined staff meetings as a time of sharing about what really mattered, praying and connecting. I imagined that the pastor would actually care about the state of my soul. I imagined that the leadership would truly care about and for one another. I couldn't have been more wrong.
Within a few weeks, I discovered that I was expected to work crazy long hours each week. Vacations and days off were not an option for me. Although the senior pastor seemed to only work 10-15 hours a week, I was expected to work 65, then 75, and eventually 85 or more hours each week because "it's for the Lord." I was systematically cut off from all those who were a support system for me because I "needed to be set apart." I found myself being told I didn't know how to pray correctly. I was leading worship, and I was repeatedly criticized because I didn't worship correctly. I didn't connect with the right people, and I defended the wrong people. I was in trouble because the youth program was ministering to "the wrong kids." I was being used and abused - mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and to some extent physically - and I had no idea it was even happening.
After almost three years, I was so totally entrenched in this system that I actually believed the pastor when he would say things like, "Go ahead and try to find another position. No one else will hire you." After a 90+ hour work week, the pastor called me in and told me that I needed to spend more time at the church because I wasn't meeting all of his expectations. He demanded that I complete an 8 week devotional and a full curriculum on love prior to leaving (in 2 days) for our spring mission trip. When I pushed back saying it couldn't be done in that short amount of time, he told me, "I know we're reading this book where all the people who were on staff together loved each other so much that they all retired to the same community, but right now, I don't think I even want you as part of this team, let alone to be with you for the rest of my life." I left his office and collapsed in a heap in my own office. My best friend (and the only person in my life that the pastor hadn't scared away) was also there, and he couldn't take watching the abuse any longer. I couldn't have escaped that situation on my own, and I didn't believe my friend when he pointed out what was happening. He arranged for me to attend a retreat, and it was that retreat and the loving people that surrounded me there that saved my life.
When I returned home from the retreat with a clearer understanding of what was happening at that church, I demanded a few changes in hopes that the people of the church would be godly, loving people and would still care for me like I thought church people could. It never actually got to the people of the church. The leadership team told me to "suck it up," and when I revealed to them what had been going on, they threatened me. It seems that the building project was contingent on the pastor's approval rating, and they couldn't risk anyone knowing what had been going on with the staff. Within three months, I had been fired. The church people were told I had another job elsewhere. My compensation was dependent on me not having any contact with people from the church or in the community. I was even told that I had to do my grocery shopping late at night when most people wouldn't be in the store.
I lost everything - my house, my job, my friends, even the guy I was seriously dating. I left there wounded and bleeding from the soul. I had been questioning the very existence of God, and had it not been for a few loving souls who walked with me through this devastating experience, I would have walked away from ministry and my faith completely.
Call to Ministry
As I said before, Dr. Moulder was the one who first mentioned to me that God might be calling me into full-time youth ministry. I had never considered such a thing. In the little church where I grew up, women didn't go into ministry. They assisted their husbands with ministry by playing the piano and leading women's Bible studies. They served the local church as Sunday School teachers, musicians, choir members, funeral meal preparers and fundraisers. But women didn't actually go into ministry! Still, the idea was planted...
Dr. Moulder arranged for me to attend some youth ministry classes. Rick Dunn was a youth ministry guru at the time, and he was the head of the department at Trinity during those years. The very first class I attended made an impression on me. Rick said, "If you think God is calling you into ministry, do everything else you can think of instead. If you still end up in ministry, you'll know it was God." So I took him quite literally. I pursued my degree in music education and went home to my former high school to teach.
I found myself loving every minute of the times I spent volunteering at church. After a few years of teaching, I found myself volunteering for worship and youth at a local church. The youth pastor sucked me into a number of programs, and I found that I couldn't wait to get to church or to meet with the youth. Meanwhile, I found myself dreading going to school more and more. The saving grace of teaching was the interaction I had with students after school - during musical practices and sporting events. I started wondering if there wasn't something to a call to youth ministry for me.
In October 1999, I was given the opportunity to attend Youth Specialties' National Youth Workers' Convention in San Diego. I hadn't told anyone about my tugs toward full-time ministry. I sat in a general session and listened to Mike Yaconelli. I'm not sure what he really said that day, but I heard the call into full-time ministry and was affirmed by Mike in that very instant. Still, I wasn't sure. What about my teaching job? The money wasn't great, but it was better than youth ministry pay. What about this church and these students I had come to love? Where would this ministry gig take me? What would I have to give up? I really wasn't sure I was ready to cave in to the call to ministry just yet.
A few weeks later, there was a terrible car crash which killed 3 of my students and injured 3 more. One of the students who was killed was one of our starters for the varsity basketball team. Practices had just started, and we'd just started to get back into the rhythm of team life. The coaching staff gathered the team together to process Adam's death, and the team decided to give Adam's jersey to his mother as a gesture of our sorrow and as an act of "retiring" his number. The team chose the head coach and I to represent the team in doing this. Handing Adam's jersey to his grieving mother and having her look at me and ask "Why?" was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life.
I left the funeral home that evening and went to the youth pastor's office. I sat down with Gregg and finally gave in to my own grief and confusion. I had worked with Adam every day over the last five years, and I had not had one significant conversation with him in that time. The school regulations forbid personal conversations. I remember telling Gregg, "I can't keep doing this. I have to do what means something."
That evening, and the following conversations I had with God, were the turning point for me. I gave into the call to ministry. Still, I didn't tell anyone. I didn't know what to say or how to go about making this change. It wasn't until February, when Gregg finally called me out and asked me what was going on that I confessed my sense of being called into ministry. There was something "magical" in that moment. As soon as I actually said the words to Gregg - even before he responded - I knew that it was what I needed to do.
And thus began the phrase of my journey where I entered full-time ministry. I'd "caved in" (as I often tell people) to the call of God on my life, but I still had my reservations. I wasn't quite ready to give God my entire life just yet.
Dr. Moulder arranged for me to attend some youth ministry classes. Rick Dunn was a youth ministry guru at the time, and he was the head of the department at Trinity during those years. The very first class I attended made an impression on me. Rick said, "If you think God is calling you into ministry, do everything else you can think of instead. If you still end up in ministry, you'll know it was God." So I took him quite literally. I pursued my degree in music education and went home to my former high school to teach.
I found myself loving every minute of the times I spent volunteering at church. After a few years of teaching, I found myself volunteering for worship and youth at a local church. The youth pastor sucked me into a number of programs, and I found that I couldn't wait to get to church or to meet with the youth. Meanwhile, I found myself dreading going to school more and more. The saving grace of teaching was the interaction I had with students after school - during musical practices and sporting events. I started wondering if there wasn't something to a call to youth ministry for me.
In October 1999, I was given the opportunity to attend Youth Specialties' National Youth Workers' Convention in San Diego. I hadn't told anyone about my tugs toward full-time ministry. I sat in a general session and listened to Mike Yaconelli. I'm not sure what he really said that day, but I heard the call into full-time ministry and was affirmed by Mike in that very instant. Still, I wasn't sure. What about my teaching job? The money wasn't great, but it was better than youth ministry pay. What about this church and these students I had come to love? Where would this ministry gig take me? What would I have to give up? I really wasn't sure I was ready to cave in to the call to ministry just yet.
A few weeks later, there was a terrible car crash which killed 3 of my students and injured 3 more. One of the students who was killed was one of our starters for the varsity basketball team. Practices had just started, and we'd just started to get back into the rhythm of team life. The coaching staff gathered the team together to process Adam's death, and the team decided to give Adam's jersey to his mother as a gesture of our sorrow and as an act of "retiring" his number. The team chose the head coach and I to represent the team in doing this. Handing Adam's jersey to his grieving mother and having her look at me and ask "Why?" was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life.
I left the funeral home that evening and went to the youth pastor's office. I sat down with Gregg and finally gave in to my own grief and confusion. I had worked with Adam every day over the last five years, and I had not had one significant conversation with him in that time. The school regulations forbid personal conversations. I remember telling Gregg, "I can't keep doing this. I have to do what means something."
That evening, and the following conversations I had with God, were the turning point for me. I gave into the call to ministry. Still, I didn't tell anyone. I didn't know what to say or how to go about making this change. It wasn't until February, when Gregg finally called me out and asked me what was going on that I confessed my sense of being called into ministry. There was something "magical" in that moment. As soon as I actually said the words to Gregg - even before he responded - I knew that it was what I needed to do.
And thus began the phrase of my journey where I entered full-time ministry. I'd "caved in" (as I often tell people) to the call of God on my life, but I still had my reservations. I wasn't quite ready to give God my entire life just yet.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
College Impact
College life was a challenge for me. I had some awesome professors who challenged me in a number of ways. Some wouldn't let me slide by without putting much effort into the class. Others turned my worldview upside down. However, the most challenging for me was Dr. Bill Moulder. He challenged me to dig into the text of the Bible and engage with what I was reading and studying. He challenged me to question. He challenged me to go beyond the text and to engage in St. Ignatius' imaginative prayer practices (though I had no idea that's what they were at the time). He challenged me to consider that God might be calling me into youth ministry. He challenged me to take what I was learning and consider how that should be transforming my heart, my soul, my life.
I remember having a conversation with Dr. Moulder about that phrase from my childhood church: to know Him and to make Him known. Dr. Moulder asked me what I knew about Jesus. After spouting off all the information I had stored up, he said, "Yes, but do you know Jesus?" I hestitated before relaying the story I had been taught to tell about my "conversion" experience where I "accepted Christ as my personal Savior." Again, Dr. Moulder asked, "But do you know Jesus?" This one question, more than anything else in my four years of experiences, stands out to me. Did I know Jesus? I knew my friends and my roommate. I could tell you what they liked and didn't like. I could tell you what made them tick. I could tell you what kinds of people they were. But I wasn't sure I could do that for Jesus. For all the information I had, I had never really considered Jesus to be a real person that I could know. That question from my childhood began to haunt me again: what does it mean to know Jesus?
I remember having a conversation with Dr. Moulder about that phrase from my childhood church: to know Him and to make Him known. Dr. Moulder asked me what I knew about Jesus. After spouting off all the information I had stored up, he said, "Yes, but do you know Jesus?" I hestitated before relaying the story I had been taught to tell about my "conversion" experience where I "accepted Christ as my personal Savior." Again, Dr. Moulder asked, "But do you know Jesus?" This one question, more than anything else in my four years of experiences, stands out to me. Did I know Jesus? I knew my friends and my roommate. I could tell you what they liked and didn't like. I could tell you what made them tick. I could tell you what kinds of people they were. But I wasn't sure I could do that for Jesus. For all the information I had, I had never really considered Jesus to be a real person that I could know. That question from my childhood began to haunt me again: what does it mean to know Jesus?
Bible Quizzing
Throughout high school, my church encouraged us to compete in Bible Quizzing. it was a great way to learn verses and the content of whole books of the Bible; however, the knowledge never go from the head to the heart. I memorized whole chapters of the Bible, but I had no idea what any of it really meant or how it connected to that idea of knowing Jesus. Of course, in any given situation, I could readily spout out an appropriate verse, which showed how "spiritual" I was, right?
I still hear of Bible Quizzing, and my local conference even had a "Bible Knowledge Quiz" at their latest event. I often wonder what the purpose of this is. Is it to teach students to spout Bible verses in any situation? Is it to make sure that these kids are staying out of trouble and doing nice, "Christian" things instead? Why did my church want us to engage in quizzing and memorizing?
One of the ancient Jewish commandments was to take the words of God and "write them on your heart." Somehow this doesn't seem to be what we were doing with quizzing. Internalizing instead of memorizing seems more appropriate. Finding the connection between head and heart seems more appropriate. Engaging in what the text means, how the text connects you to Jesus, allowing the text to change you... these seem more appropriate. I often wonder if being allowed to question and examining the text from different angles wouldn't have been a better use of all those hours I spent quizzing.
I still hear of Bible Quizzing, and my local conference even had a "Bible Knowledge Quiz" at their latest event. I often wonder what the purpose of this is. Is it to teach students to spout Bible verses in any situation? Is it to make sure that these kids are staying out of trouble and doing nice, "Christian" things instead? Why did my church want us to engage in quizzing and memorizing?
One of the ancient Jewish commandments was to take the words of God and "write them on your heart." Somehow this doesn't seem to be what we were doing with quizzing. Internalizing instead of memorizing seems more appropriate. Finding the connection between head and heart seems more appropriate. Engaging in what the text means, how the text connects you to Jesus, allowing the text to change you... these seem more appropriate. I often wonder if being allowed to question and examining the text from different angles wouldn't have been a better use of all those hours I spent quizzing.
Childhood Church
Thinking back to my first remembered experiences of church and of God, my overall impression is "rules." There were some great people in my little country church, and had it not been for them, I probably would have gone off the deep end long ago. But still, the overall impression of what God and church was all about was that I was to behave and follow the rules.
At first I did pretty well with this. I sat relatively still during the sermons (thanks to the raisins and drawing paper my mother provided). I listened to the flannel graph stories in Sunday School, and other than that day when I shifted the car out of park (on a hill) while waiting for mom to come out of the church, I generally did what I was told. But then came the day in my 4th grade Sunday School class when I bucked the system. I asked a question. It's not that questions were completely forbidden, but I asked one of those questions; I asked why creation and evolution couldn't both be true. Without really understanding what I had done wrong, I found myself getting kicked out of Sunday School and being sent to my mother's classroom. This began a pattern of questioning and being kicked out. Fortunately for me, most of the time I was intercepted by a wise pastor who often took me for walks and patiently answered my questions. Unfortunately, I learned that everything has an answer, and when that pastor moved on, I learned that it was better to just not ask the questions.
Still, there were great people who loved me. Jr. high was a traumatic time as my parents fought and discussed splitting up and my older brother decided to use me as an outlet for his frustrations. I spent hours at the church and playing basketball and volleyball in the church's recreation center. The church gave me a place to belong when I didn't have any other safe place to go. Playing their game seemed a small price to pay for such love and security.
There was one phrase that stands out to me from my childhood church: To know Him and make Him known. That was a phrase that was introduced to us as an early form of a mission statement. It was scuplted in big letters and placed on the wall at the front of the church. I spent many hours looking at that phrase and wondering if I really knew Jesus - or if anyone in my church did, for that matter. I think that wondering led me to even more of those secretly harbored questions, the biggest being "What does it mean to really know Jesus?"
At first I did pretty well with this. I sat relatively still during the sermons (thanks to the raisins and drawing paper my mother provided). I listened to the flannel graph stories in Sunday School, and other than that day when I shifted the car out of park (on a hill) while waiting for mom to come out of the church, I generally did what I was told. But then came the day in my 4th grade Sunday School class when I bucked the system. I asked a question. It's not that questions were completely forbidden, but I asked one of those questions; I asked why creation and evolution couldn't both be true. Without really understanding what I had done wrong, I found myself getting kicked out of Sunday School and being sent to my mother's classroom. This began a pattern of questioning and being kicked out. Fortunately for me, most of the time I was intercepted by a wise pastor who often took me for walks and patiently answered my questions. Unfortunately, I learned that everything has an answer, and when that pastor moved on, I learned that it was better to just not ask the questions.
Still, there were great people who loved me. Jr. high was a traumatic time as my parents fought and discussed splitting up and my older brother decided to use me as an outlet for his frustrations. I spent hours at the church and playing basketball and volleyball in the church's recreation center. The church gave me a place to belong when I didn't have any other safe place to go. Playing their game seemed a small price to pay for such love and security.
There was one phrase that stands out to me from my childhood church: To know Him and make Him known. That was a phrase that was introduced to us as an early form of a mission statement. It was scuplted in big letters and placed on the wall at the front of the church. I spent many hours looking at that phrase and wondering if I really knew Jesus - or if anyone in my church did, for that matter. I think that wondering led me to even more of those secretly harbored questions, the biggest being "What does it mean to really know Jesus?"
Monday, February 2, 2009
Journey Map
As I start this blog, I am amazed at where I've already been on this journey! This is the extremely short version as an overall map to my journey thus far. Additional posts will fill in details as well as provide a bit more theology to discuss.
I was raised in a small town (and thus a small church) in NW PA. Church has been a part of my life as long as I can remember, although I later came to learn that it was just something that everyone from our small town did on Sunday mornings - everyone except my dad, that is.
My journey has been marked by amazing people who have helped guide me through life. Some have helped me connect with God; others have helped me question my faith.
I went to Trinity International University (the Trinity College) in Deerfield, IL. Mostly, I chose Trinity because of the scholarships they gave me, but it was a great place for me to explore my faith further. It was a Trinity that I first was introduced to the idea of women in ministry and was challenged to consider that God might be calling me into youth ministry.
It took me 10 years to finally give in to the call to ministry. When I did, I found myself in what I now affectionately call "the church from hell." It was a miserable experience that led me to question everything I believed. Yet, through that situation, I was given opportunities to explore contemplative prayer, emerging theology, and what it means to be a follower of God in the way of Jesus.
My other ministry positions have been less eventful (for the most part), but my journey has not. I've journeyed from an extremely conservative, fundamentalist theology to what many now consider to be a liberal, emergent, ever-changing, ever-questioning theology. I just see it as a constant pursuit of truth and what makes the most sense. I'm always open to what makes more sense!
The biggest part of my journey at this point is conversation. The ongoing conversation with others challenges me to keep exploring, to keep searching, and to keep thinking. In fact, I started this blog so that I could officially be part of a conversation about transforming theology. I'm looking forward to the conversations in the posts ahead.
I was raised in a small town (and thus a small church) in NW PA. Church has been a part of my life as long as I can remember, although I later came to learn that it was just something that everyone from our small town did on Sunday mornings - everyone except my dad, that is.
My journey has been marked by amazing people who have helped guide me through life. Some have helped me connect with God; others have helped me question my faith.
I went to Trinity International University (the Trinity College) in Deerfield, IL. Mostly, I chose Trinity because of the scholarships they gave me, but it was a great place for me to explore my faith further. It was a Trinity that I first was introduced to the idea of women in ministry and was challenged to consider that God might be calling me into youth ministry.
It took me 10 years to finally give in to the call to ministry. When I did, I found myself in what I now affectionately call "the church from hell." It was a miserable experience that led me to question everything I believed. Yet, through that situation, I was given opportunities to explore contemplative prayer, emerging theology, and what it means to be a follower of God in the way of Jesus.
My other ministry positions have been less eventful (for the most part), but my journey has not. I've journeyed from an extremely conservative, fundamentalist theology to what many now consider to be a liberal, emergent, ever-changing, ever-questioning theology. I just see it as a constant pursuit of truth and what makes the most sense. I'm always open to what makes more sense!
The biggest part of my journey at this point is conversation. The ongoing conversation with others challenges me to keep exploring, to keep searching, and to keep thinking. In fact, I started this blog so that I could officially be part of a conversation about transforming theology. I'm looking forward to the conversations in the posts ahead.
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