The Product of Empty Space

I’ve had a few different thoughts rolling around in my head recently. There’s quite a bit of empty space in there, so they can roll around a long time before ever bumping into each other.

The other day I was looking at a blog post about homeschooling. The woman who wrote the post was justifying her decision to homeschool by telling the tragic story of a 15 year old who had frozen to death in her neighborhood as a result of bullying. She was trying to point out how awful public schools were and how she didn't want to subject her kids to that.

If you've read some of my other  posts, you will know that I'm not a fan of homeschooling. There are certain things I have been opposed to as long as I can remember, and homeschooling is one of them. I also don't believe in denominationalism,  or church membership. I was driving home the other day wondering why that is. Then it struck me: all these things have to do with separation. Either separation from other believers, or from the world. It's an us versus them attitude.

It’s evil. It’s wrong. It’s a sin.

Denominationalism says my brand of belief is better than yours; my beliefs are right and yours are wrong. Church membership says my church is better than yours; it says I'm part of the club and you aren't. Some churches even go so far as to say that if you aren’t a member you can’t serve. How arrogant is that? Homeschooling says my kids are better than yours, or perhaps more accurately, your kids are worse than mine and I don't want them influencing my kids.

The way most of us Christians live ours lives is with this undercurrent of isolation and separation. Denominationalism etc is only the visible sign of a much wider attitude. We have completely misunderstood the God given mandate to be in the world but not of it.

We go to our churches which are more like country clubs than anything. Our friends (true friends) are all from the  church.  Most of our social events surround the church. We even speak our own language. If we do interact with the world it's only to prosthelytize. 

This isn't what I  see Jesus doing when he goes out of his way to interact with the world. When he eats with tax collectors and sinners. When  he says it is not the healthy that need a doctor, but the sick. When he goes around healing everybody, but not getting them to say the sinners prayer. He's meeting them where they are, in their hurt and brokenness. He's announcing the coming of the Kingdom. He's saying that everybody is connected, and that those who understand that will help those that don't. When he says that we are not of the world, he’s not saying that we are somehow holier than everyone else, he’s saying that we are called to a higher standard - a kingdom standard - where people go the extra mile and turn the other cheek. Not where we separate ourselves from the world so we won’t get contaminated. Jesus touched the leper and and bleeding woman - people that would have made him unclean.

All this makes me wonder about that poor kid that froze to death. Where were the Christian kids in that school. Were they carrying on with their parents attitudes of isolation and separation? Did they even know that this kid was hurting? Did they stand up for him at all? Or were they more concerned about going to heaven when they died? Then I wonder how homeschooling helped this kid. What good did isolating this woman's kids from the evils of public school do for the kid who died? 

Nothing. 

Perhaps the Christian kids who were there did nothing, but if your kids aren't even there, then there isn't even the possibility of helping someone in need. 

How is that good news for anyone?

If you want to read a good article that’s the antitheses of homeschooling read this article from Christianity Today.

An empty cup of tea

Th Master Nan-in had a visitor who came to inquire about Zen, but instead of listening the visitor kept talking about his own ideas. After awhile Nan-in served tea. He poured tea into his visitors cup until it was full. Then he kept pouring. Finally the visitor could not restrain himself, "Don't you see it's full?"he said. "You can't get anymore in." "Just so", replied Nan-in, stopping at last. "And like this cup you are filled with your own ideas. How can you expect me to give you Zen unless you offer an empty cup?"

I think we as evangelicals are very much like this cup of tea, especially if we've been in the church all our lives. We know all the answers, we've been told what to believe. We've been told that we have all the knowledge, and that even though there may be other traditions who seem to sincerely believe that, "they are sincerely wrong".  Our cups are so full and overflowing that not only can we not get anymore in, we can't even move the cup to someplace useful.

Mark Buchanan has just put out another book, "Your Church is too Safe". Mark is a good writer, who pastors out of British Columbia. His books try to get Christians to think outside the box, at least a little, although I don't know how successful he is - he might be a bit too subtle. In an excerpt from this latest book, he makes two distinctions between the definitions of the words Traveler / Tourist and Disciple / Believer.

Traveler literally means "one who travails." He labours, suffers, endures. A traveller.. ...gets impregnated with a new and strange reality, grows huge and awkward trying to carry it, and finally, in agony, births something new and beautiful. To get there, he immerses himself in a culture. learns the language and customs, lives with the locals, imitates the dress, eats what's set before him. He takes risks, some enormous, and makes sacrifices, some extravagant. He has tight scrapes and narrow escapes. He is gone along time. If he ever returns, he returns forever altered...

A tourist, not so. Tourist means, literally, "one who goes in circles." He's just takes an exotic detour home. He's only passing through, sampling wares, acquiring souvenirs. He tastes more than he eats what's put before him. He retreats each night to what's safe and familiar. He picks up a word here, a phrase there, but the language and the world it's imbedded in, remains opaque and cryptic, and vaguely menacing. He spectates and consumes. He returns to where he comes from with an album of photos, a few momentos, a cheap hat. He's happy to be back. He declares there's no place like home...

....At some point we stopped calling Christians disciples and started calling then believers. A disciple is one who follows and imitates Jesus. She loses her life in order to find it. She steeps in the language and culture of Christ until his word and his world reshape hers, redefine her, change inside and out how she thinks and dreams and, finally, lives....

...A believer, not so. She holds certain beliefs, but how deep down these go depends on the weather or her mood. She can get defensive, sometimes bristlingly so, about her beliefs, but in her honest moments she wonders why they've made such a scant difference....

... You can't be a disciple without being a believer. But - here's the rub - you can be a believer and not a disciple. You can say all the right things, think all the right things, believe all the right things, do all the right things, and still not follow and imitate Jesus...

...The Kingdom of God is made up of travellers, but our churches are largely populated with tourists. The Kingdom is full of disciples, but our churches are filled with believers.

I would hope it isn't happening in Mark's church, but the issue that I see is that those in the pews  are being filled to overflowing with the notion of being a tourist-believer. This is exactly where the pulpit wants people, but it's not where God wants them. We have phrases like; 'this world's not my home; I'm just passing through; strangers in a strange land; be ye in the world not of the world (this last one has been mis-read for centuries to justify the previous ones. Taken in it's proper context it has nothing to do with separating yourself from the world).

Those of us who are serious about being Traveler-Disciples need to take our cup to the sink, dump it out, and start letting God - and only God - fill it back up again. When God fills our cup, there's always room for more; more of him and more of others.

 

 

 

The Complicity of the Church

You have probably heard it said that Satan's greatest trick is convincing people that he doesn't exist. But I wonder if he hasn't pulled an even faster one. One that actually gets some people into heaven, while keeping the majority out. One that has permeated the entire Church, and is so ingrained into Christianity, that very few people would even think of questioning it. Think about it: At least some people will question the existence of Satan, but very, very few Christians will question what actually drove them into heaven.

Embracing Sin

I typically have 3 or 4 books on the go at any one time. They are usually fairly deep, which accounts for my watching too much TV: my brain sometimes needs the mind numbing aspects that only TV can give. One of the ones that I am currently reading is a book by Franciscan priest Richard Rohr entitled Falling Upward. (All you evangelicals out here take a deep breath and keep reading). It is quite fascinating. He makes several very insightful observations and statements, but the one that just stuck out at me is this;

Smudges on the Window

I have just realized that having a blog is like wandering around your house naked with the windows open; it's all very liberating until someone looks in the window. However, while being caught unawares is one thing, it is quite another to stroll up to the window and press your naked, flabby body against the coolness of the glass in a hideous form of vertical prostration for all the world to see, which is what I seem to do at times on this site.

While I do not regret (so far) anything I have said on this site, because it was what I thought at the time, it is very much a record of my journey towards God which I hope never ends. I want to always be seeking and never arriving. If I ever state that I have arrived, then I know that I have missed God altogether and I hope someone loves me enough to shoot me.