Tag: Theology

Churchless but not Faithless

I haven’t gone to church in over 2 years. Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I was in a church building. COVID hit, and everything shut down, and when buildings opened up again, my little church hadn’t survived. We were renting a space in a strip mall, and it wasn’t worth paying rent when we weren’t using it. Then our pastor got a job at a different church in a different city, which was so good. He and his family need to eat and pay rent themselves, so none of us begrudge him that. So I was churchless. And my hobbity self who would like to snuggle down in a hole in the ground with some good food and drink didn’t mind all that much.

Most Sundays, my mum and I would livestream the service from my old home church in LA until they stopped livestreaming. And when it was safe enough to start meeting with other humans again, my family and close friend’s family formed a little home church where we meet outside or, if the weather is bad, inside masked, and study the Bible, pray together, and let the kids run wild together. Sometimes, we take communion together, and we did some advent together near the holidays. I also meet once a month with my women’s global prayer group, on our back patio or masked indoors.

So fellowship and Bible study and communal prayer and communion are happening – just not in the traditional sense. I’ve thought about going back to a church in person – like with a building and ordained pastors and formal small groups and all that – but the local churches where I live are not welcoming spaces for non-Republicans who are fed up with the current state of the white evangelical church and believe COVID was/is real. Even the churches of people of color tend to lean right here.

I must be honest, I don’t miss traditional church as much as I thought I would. My mum misses it a lot more than I do, which makes sense as she’s gone for over 70 years to my over 40. I’ve also never or rarely fit in to the church environment, so have always felt on the fringes anyway. I’ve also been struggling with the politics/ethics of the white evangelical church a lot longer. But it breaks my heart to see her grieve the loss of church. I’ve been there, I’ve felt the betrayal and pain, and I hate to see her going through it too.

I’m not deconstructing my faith – my faith is the same as it ever was. I love God and try to love people. I am a sinner, saved by the sacrificial death and resurrection of Jesus, who loved me and gave himself up for me. This is why I try to love others – because I am so loved in a way I do not deserve and I want others to experience that too. My faith is unshaken and permanent. But the churches I see around me do not reflect what the Bible says about God and humanity.

I am not naïve – I do not seek a “perfect” church. I know the church is for sinners, and therefore will never be perfect. I do, however, seek churches that are trying to love God and love others well. Which are willing to admit when they’re wrong, and do everything in their power to grow and change. Which are not willing to bow to the right wing worship found in these spaces, but which seek to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God (Micah 6:8).

I’m no longer willing to bend to religious spaces which actively harm women and vulnerable minorities, which pull the “both sides are equally wrong” crap or go further and believe you have to be right wing to be a Christian, which prioritize the tastes of the more powerful or favored congregants over what is right, which pick and choose which sins to rebuke while holding tightly onto sins like greed, lust for power, and violence.

For me, the biggest struggle in this leaving of the traditional church is also leaving behind my calling as a Biblical Counselor. I never quite fit into that world well, and in fact got into many debates with my professors in my years of study. I also purposefully never turned in my completed NANC (now ACBC) exam to get certified by the Biblical Counseling big wigs because I could never 100% sign off on their statements of belief and didn’t want my name to be associated with them. Still, I paid tons of money (loans which I’m still paying off), gave a lot of my time and effort, to get my Master’s degree and be trained in that discipline. I also have 16 years of experience in Biblical Counseling. I’ve attended many conferences and classes over the years, continued in research and reading, and have given a huge amount of my adult life to that particular field of counseling. Giving that up is the hardest part.

I am a good counselor, sometimes I am even excellent. I am a good speaker and teacher, sometimes even excellent. I am a good writer, sometimes even excellent. And giving up that call and gift and skill is like giving up a huge part of who I am. I currently only have 3 counselees left, 2 paid and one pro-bono. And after them, I do not plan on taking any new counselees for the foreseeable future. The tradition in which I was taught and trained is so wrapped up in the white evangelical culture that I do not think it can be separated. And I do not have the time, energy, and money to go back to school and start over again to get trained in a different kind of counseling. So I must let it go. This breaks my heart the most.

I’m still working through a lot of this stuff, so things may change, but this is where I’m at right now. And, for those of you who know me well, this will not be a surprise. It’s actually been a very very long time coming. But I appreciate your love, support, prayer, encouragement, and listening ears these past few years as I’ve weighed these decisions. Feel free to message me if you have any questions about any of this, as I know I’m not the only one out there going through this.

The one thing I know for certain is that pursuing God and faith in Christ is still worth it, still beautiful and good and true, and that forming relationships with his children is still worth it. It just might look a little different for a lot of us.

How Long, O Lord?

I’m in an online women’s Bible study that just started going through the book of James last night, and my home church had its second week of sermons on politics this Sunday. I am being reminded to “count it all joy” . . . “when you meet trials of various kinds” (James 1:2). I am being reminded that what affects me the most emotionally is a good sign of what I worship, that politics can become a false religion. I’m being reminded that the mature Christian will be filled with the fruits of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23).

But today, 200,000 people in my country are dead from Covid-19, many of which were preventable if our government had gotten its act together. But today, I cannot go outside because my lungs cannot handle breathing the air left behind by the fires surrounding us, people are losing their homes, and people have died while our president  repeatedly mocks our state and threatens not to send help. But today, three police officers who killed a black woman in her own house walked out of the court with little to no consequences, yet again. But today, myself and others like me who have lost our jobs due to the coronavirus search the news frantically to see if the government has finally found a compromise to help us with bills, our lost health insurance, and other needs. But today, my brother-in-law has to process the Zoom meeting he just had with his school district saying that he and all the other special education teachers will be going back to teaching in person on campus in October, even though they were given no plan on how this will actually be safe for them, their students, and their families. But today, evangelical pastors flout the law and refuse to take precautions on behalf of their parishioners because they’d rather take a political stance siding with a president that couldn’t care less about them. 

Today, I don’t know how to “count it all joy,” how not to be so emotionally invested in what’s going on politically, how to be at peace. Today I have no fun gifs with which to sprinkle my post. All I can do is listen to songs of lament on repeat, let the tears spill, let my heart hurt, lift up my voice in moaning grief and seething anger to my God, this God who cares for the vulnerable and lost, the widow and orphan, the sojourner and the poor so much that He came to earth to live amongst them, befriend them, teach them, feed them, heal them, then die for them. 

O, how my soul grieves! O, how my heart burns in anger! O, how my very body longs for God’s return and the redemption of this broken world! O, how helpless I feel, shut up rather safe and comfortable in my mother’s house, unable to fix anything for anyone, unable to even hug friends to comfort them, or march for righteous justice, or weep with my church in person! O, how I yearn for a new day to dawn of empathy and compassion, generosity and love! 

Politics is surrounding and directly affecting all of these things and more. There are immediate and long term needs everywhere I look. There is violence and hatred, cruelty and selfishness, a deep desire for power and a lack of care for those who need it most when I look at the political landscape. There is pain and loss and heartbreak, illness and death, grief and anger for so many who are meant to be served by our government.

Tears, slow yet steady, run down my face as I type this. I have no answers but my cries to the God of the universe, my Father, my creator, who IS love. Another day I will try to wrap my head around how to balance loving others well in this political landscape, how to find joy in it, how to find hope in the Lord in the midst of it, how to speak truth with love, how not to judge others harshly, how to view politics as important but not ultimate, how to participate in politics in ways that love my neighbors and help enact God’s desire for the flourishing of others, especially the vulnerable. Another day I, like David, will rejoice in God’s steadfast love and remember His bountiful gifts to us. But today I lament. Today I wish for sackcloth and ashes. I wish to tear out my hair and wail in the streets. Today I cannot stop the tears, I will not stop them. Today I will pray in sobs and songs and groans and wordless numbness. Today I will not be ok.

Psalm 13
To the choirmaster. A Psalm of David.
 
How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? 
How long will you hide your face from me? 
How long must I take counsel in my soul 
and have sorrow in my heart all the day? 
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me? 
Consider and answer me, O Lord my God; 
light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death, 
lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over him,” 
lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken. 
But I have trusted in your steadfast love; 
my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. 
I will sing to the Lord 
because he has dealt bountifully with me.

An Awkward Spinster Has All the Thoughts as Summer Ends

With one week left of summer vacation, I think my mind is trying to process all the things it’s been pondering this summer. Things like women’s roles in the church, how best to help those suffering through grief and loss, the effects of institutionalized racism on my bookshelves, the awesomeness of graphic novels that work for kids and adults, the joy of supporting art, and how to be both firm yet gracious. I can ponder forever, but coming to conclusions is another thing. So now that I’m down to just a few more days before my mind is filled almost entirely with the business of getting the library up and running for the school year, I’m trying to actually make some decisions based on the things on which I’ve ruminated for the past couple of months. 

On the role of women in the church, this video by N. T. Wright has had me thinking for days. It was suggested by female Anglican priest Tish Warren in an interview on Preston Sprinkle’s podcast “Theology in the Raw.” As this issue has been a concern of mine for literally my entire life, and as it is an issue that directly affects me as a woman in ministry, any conclusions I come to will probably take more time and study. If this is a topic of interest to you, please check out the video and let me know what you think. Comment below if you’d like to get a conversation going. It’s a complex issue, and one that is often considered “not a priority” (a direct quote from a pastor with whom I discussed this) by many churches as men are solely in leadership, thus think they are not directly affected by this (they are), think it’s clear (it’s not), or think it’s not that important (it is to the other 50% of the church).

Last night, I showed my mum the Anderson Cooper interview with Stephen Colbert, and we both cried a little. Colbert’s compassionate and authentic response to Cooper’s vulnerable questions on loss and grief was insightful, beautiful, and pointed to Christ. As I am gearing up to, once again, co-lead a grief group at my church, this interview will stay in my mind. Check it out. Discuss below.

This January, as I thought of what New Year’s Resolution I could make, I looked around my bookshelves and realized that the ratio of white authors to authors of color was not great. Though many of my favorite authors are men and women of color, I’m still not hearing their voices as often as white voices. And since I’m actually pretty angry with many of the white voices that can seem to screech the loudest in our culture, I thought I’d like to hear some perspectives that differ. At this moment, I’m in the middle of Ta-Nehisi Coates’ “Between the World and Me.” If the late, great, Toni Morrison said it’s “required reading,” I’m there. It’s beautiful, difficult, thought-provoking, and important. If you’ve read it, I’d love to hear your thoughts below. If not, perhaps you can join me in reading it and we can discuss together when we’re done. Which will probably be tonight, because I can’t put it down.

Another way I gear up for the school year is by reading some of the kid lit I’ll be introducing to my library this fall. I had heard great things about the graphic novel series by Ben Hatke, “Zita: the Spacegirl,” but never got around to reading them. I know this shocks most people, that an English major and librarian hasn’t read Every Single Book in Existence, but hey, there are A LOT of books out there, so we can’t read them all! Anyway, I stumbled across the Zita trilogy for a great price at one of my favorite Southern California used bookstores, BookMonster in Santa Monica, and snatched them up for my kiddos. I just read all 3 in 3 days because they are fun, amazing, and lovely. I can’t wait to get them into the hands of my students as soon as the school library is open for business this fall! I’ve also been told that “Mighty Jack and Zita the Spacegirl” is even better, so I can’t wait to read it. Someday soon. When I have time and money again. (I don’t get paid during the summer, and yet somehow I still bought 3 bags full of stuff for my library, sigh.) Are there any other graphic novels I should stock in my TK-5th grade library? Let me know.

Something that reminded me of how much I love to support others’ art was the successful Kickstarter campaign of illustrator Seth T. Hahne. His American Lit series is brilliant, and I’ve now got both the Salinger and Fitzgerald pieces framed and hanging on my living room gallery wall and mailed off a bunch of the others to some literary geek friends. Check his work out, and buy some. You can also support my two favorite artists-who-are-related-to-me, my brother Joshua Kemble, and his wife Mai S. Kemble. Their work is incredible, objectively, with no bias on my part. Check them out and support your local artists! Are there other artists I should know about? Link to them in the comments.

Another idea that’s permeated my summer is how to stop seeing people as one big group with whom I’m upset (cough *evangelical Trump supporters* cough) and instead get back to seeing individuals. And, as silly as it may seem, I’ve been convicted by the depiction of G. K. Chesterton’s gracious, kind, clever, and firm Father Brown. Mum and I happily discovered that Season 7 is now streaming on Amazon Prime’s Britbox (yes, of course we have Britbox), with a new episode offered each week on Thursdays, I think. If I could be more like Father Brown, I think I’d be doing well. His ability to both treat people with respect and grace, yet hold people accountable for their sinful actions and desires, all while calling them to repentance and reminding them of Christ’s ever-present offer of forgiveness is astounding. Are you a Father Brownian? Let me know in the comments. 

I realize I’m ending this post with very few conclusions, and possibly may be giving you more questions, but I’m an educator so questions are my favorite tool! Let’s ponder these things, and more, together. After all, a single lady needs her community to share ideas, debate, and discuss. Have at it.