it’s all about power.

patriarchy in the church, in the world, isn’t just about male-centered leadership in our church system. it’s about who’s got the power because in our human-brains-who-have-to-bent-on-making-it-all-make-sense, it must be clear.

and making it clear means that we have to make it finite.

we think of it like a limited resource.

we think of it as being a certain size.

we think of it like a pie, with only so many pieces to slice up.

we think that when someone gets more power, that means someone else has to get less.

this is why when we think of men and women leading alongside each other, or any other underrepresented group stepping into greater leadership in some way, shape, or form, we default to needing to step aside to make room for others.  we default to leaving the table so that others can sit at it.  we default to silencing our voices so that others can use theirs.

some of that is true–when moving toward greater equality those with power will have to make some shifts to allow others to step into theirs.  but if we’re not careful, we will end up in the same place we were before, where power shifts to a new group of people and the others are silenced and feel resentment and hurt. 

in the kingdom of God, there’s another possibility.

power is not like pie at all. 

instead, it’s more like loaves & fishes.

there’s this wild and beautiful and miraculous thing that can happen when we share it together.  it multiplies.   and multiplies.

on our little wacky refuge team, i have seen this in action.  the more we are all more fully present, alive, engaged in who we are–male, female, in all our strengths in all our weaknesses–the more free we are, the more alive we are, the more the kingdom of God is reflected in community together. it’s been hard over the years because of a misperception of power as pie.  if we live with the idea that there are only so many slices, then someone’s going to go hungry.

it doesn’t have to be that way.    we need to re-think power.  and respect that power diffusion doesn’t limit power but increases it.

the ways of God are not the ways of this world.  that’s much of our problem.  we have limited God.  and we’ve shortchanged each other.  our default to only living under or over another instead of alongside  has jacked with our hope.  we have adopted models of leadership in our churches that don’t require faith or relationship.  we have adopted models of living together in community that are based on fear .  we have adopted a spirit of scarcity instead of abundance.

and our ways have caused us to become controlling.

underneath control is fear.

systems of patriarchy are built on deeply grooved systems of fear and a belief that power is like pie, with only so much to go around.

Jesus came to break down these systems of fear & control & self-protection and liberate us all.

i completely understand that the world needs organizations where power must be limited, defined, and protected. that’s how it goes when there is work to be done and money to be made.

but the church should be different. 

it should not reflect the power structures of the world.  it should not be built on a spirit of fear and control but on a spirit of love and relationship and equality. 

yes, we come with a bunch of different abilities and disabilities, and we are not all the same. it’s easy for us to say “it’s not possible”, that power issues are too complex and we’re in too deep to ever change it.  but i’m one of those nutty people who is crazy enough to believe it’s possible.

i am seeing what can happen when we stop seeing power as pie and start trusting God to multiply what we’ve got and feed us all. when we stop seeing only so many seats at the table and keep adding in leaves. when we create spaces for men & women, black & white, gay & straight, rich & poor, to live alongside each other with equal value. when we empower each other in any way we can, respecting that we can’t expect everyone to be “fully alive” at the same time but what we can do is fan whatever life we can into flame.

yeah, in the world, power is like pie.

but in the kingdom of God, it’s much more like loaves and fishes, where all may eat and no one has to go hungry.

* * * * *

“Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken” – Oscar Wilde

I first discovered what a “blog” was in 2006, when we planted The Refuge, the wild little faith community I am part of.  Honestly, I had never heard the word before; I had been immersed in a hectic ministry role that was very insulated from the wider church conversation and I just wasn’t online.  This transition from mega-church to small-church-plant was a messy one for me.  I was in a lot of pain from my experience, so I reached out online after stumbling across some blogs while searching for church website ideas.  I felt an instant and immediate sense of relief when I discovered I wasn’t crazy, and I wasn’t alone in some of my feelings.  I found others with similar stories & similar church dreams.

The men and women I read were honest, bold, raw, and pure.

They weren’t selling anything, trying to push their agenda, or attempting to make-people-come-over-to-their-way-of-thinking.

Rather, they just told their stories.  Shared their experiences. Responded to other people’s comments with simple kindness and respect. And above all, they remained honest about what they were wrestling with and learning along the way.

Reading their blogs gave me hope.

They inspired me.

They pointed me toward God (even when they were wrestling with God).

They challenged me to think.

January 1, 2008, I started my own blog and dedicated myself to two simple commitments:

1. Write as honestly and purely as I could without editing or trying to worry about what other people might think.

2. Write once a week for one year.

It’s been a wild ride, and I have learned so much through the process over the past 4 years.

Out of everything, I think blogging has helped me learn to become more comfortable in my own skin, with my own voice, with who I am.

I think that is a very holy and sacred experience on our spiritual journey–learning to find safety and security in who we really are.  

Not who someone else is.

Not who we think we should be.

But in who we are.

I am someone who has always struggled with the message that I wasn’t enough somehow–not spiritual enough, not quiet enough, not domestic enough, not skinny enough, not organized enough, not-whatever-enough.

Blogging definitely intersected with this message, initially making it even worse.

In the first few years of my blog, I had so much internal anxiety about not being good enough, funny enough, theological enough, wise enough, or concise enough.   Whatever “enough” it was, I wasn’t.

But something began to shift in the past several years as I continued to find my voice and become more comfortable in my own skin out here.

I began to realize that the world doesn’t need another _________ or __________ or __________ (Insert name of any bloggers you are jealous of, and my guess is they are wrestling with similar feelings and go a little psycho about the same insecurities).

What’s missing is me.

Not because without me the world would stop spinning or the blogosphere would come to a screeching halt.

But because everyone else is taken.  

I think God wants us to learn how to become comfortable in our own skin, to be who-we-are, and not try to become someone else.

Blogging is a great place to practice this.

Making peace with who-we-are requires the ongoing-work-of-the-Holy-Spirit.  I doubt and question it all of the time.  I obsess before I hit “publish” and freak out about not being more like ______ or _______ (insert name of other blogger also obsessing about the same thing).

I need God’s help to remind me:  “Um, Kathy, just so you know, in the big scheme of things, it’s just a blog post.  And one other thing:  it’s a great place to practice just being you–with all your strengths & all your weaknesses.  Just you.”

And then I hit “publish” and take a deep breath and am reminded yet again, this is what transformation looks and feels like.

This is how we get more comfortable in our own skin.    This is how we learn to offer ourselves grace.  This is how we become “us” and not someone else.

Yikes, it’s hard to learn!   But blogging is a great spiritual practice that can help integrate this important truth into deep places in our hearts.

Yeah, my spiritual guidance for all us bloggers is this:  Be ourselves.  Everyone else is taken.

“why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?” luke 6:41

“do to others as you would have them do to you.” luke 6:31

* * * * *

i have been reflecting a lot about these words from Jesus this week in light of our conversation about equality.

i think they are possibly the least-applied-passages-that-could-actually-change-the-church in the Bible.

honestly, it’s a little comical, how much time and energy has been spent picking apart passages about homosexuality, of which there are few, and women in leadership in church, of which they are even fewer.  book after book and blog after blog have been written about those ones, that’s for sure.

i wonder how come we prefer those to Jesus’ powerful words in the sermon on the mount? how we’d much rather talk about who’s right & who’s wrong than live out the beatitudes?  how we’d much rather spend time & energy defending what’s a sin and what’s not a sin than feeding the hungry or loving the lonely?

umm, i’m pretty sure of that answer (and i’m not certain of much):  it’s a helluva lot easier.

laying down stones, worrying about our own logs & treating others how we long to be treated is some seriously heavy lifting.  one of the things i love the most about the 12 steps & recovery is that people are focused on our own stuff, not someone else’s.  one of the most important rules of the process is to stick with our own struggles, our own hopes, our own work and do what we can to stay on our side of the street as best we can.

it’s really quite beautiful.  and freeing.

and really hard to do in human skin that loves to control.

control is a way to protect ourselves, to distract ourselves from the bigger work of looking at our own painful patterns that keep robbing us of life, of love.

but offering ourselves in humility is what Jesus told us we needed to do–to worry about our own logs instead of anyone else’s.  to worry about the inside of our cups not the outside.  to offer mercy instead of sacrifices to satisfy the law.  to love our neighbor instead of judge our neighbor.

my theory is we’d much rather talk theology and ministry theory than be spiritually transformed ourselves.    it’s a great distraction.

spiritual and personal transformation is painful.  loving our neighbor is easier said than done.  loving God & ourselves, sometimes even harder.  reading blogs & defending positions is a piece of cake.  looking at the logs in our own eyes–pride & control & ego & self-protection & a whole-bunch-of-other-character-defects–isn’t nearly as fun as defending a couple of Bible verses to the bitter end.

i also wonder for all who love using the Bible in every conversation, how come not much time is spent on passages that challenge us on greed?  or power and control?  or comfort and pride?   or sacrifical love?  or humility?

those ones aren’t nearly as fun to rattle on about because they are seriously convicting in our own lives, not just the lives of others.

i get the irony here of me being a hypocrite, of pointing the finger, of throwing stones in a blog post but that’s about not doing that.   and i guess in this moment i would say “yep, i often am”; but i’m being convicted, too.

i can’t help but think that the world is crying out for hope while we’re talking about theology.

people are starving while we’re feeding on blog debates.

women & children are being violated while we’re haggling over whether a woman should be called “director” or “pastor.”

refrigerators are empty & electricity is getting turned off for people while we’re giving money to pay for flat screen TV’s.

if we layed down our stones and worried about the sin in our own lives, i have a feeling we’d be having radically different conversations out here.

if we tended to the forest in our own eye and didn’t give the speck in our brother’s another glance, i have a feeling we’d be plenty busy.

i think Jesus told us these important words for a reason.  he knew we’d much rather throw stones & worry about others’ specks than be radically transformed.

the church has so much it can learn from the 12 steps and the incredible wisdom of the beatitudes.  they embody an attitude of humility & mercy & meekness & purity of heart instead of an attitude of pride & judgment & control & division & finger pointing.

they help us lay down our stones.
they help us focus on our own logs.
they help us let go of needing to be in control or be “right.”
they help us be set free.

free to follow Jesus instead of defend Jesus.
free to learn instead of have all the answers.
free to listen instead of talk.
free to love instead of hate.

God, help us lay down our stones & worry about our own big ol’ logs so we–your body here on earth–can be wonderfully transformed.

“13 – therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselveswith compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. 14 – bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. forgive as the Lord forgave you.  15 - and over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”

in the wild and crazy conversation last week about equality, the verse 15 song came to mind–“over all these virtues put on love, which binds them together in perfect unity.”

my friend & copastor at the refuge, karl wheeler (who just started a new blog–check it out because it’s going to rock, details below), often says that we mistake unity for uniformity.  this is so true!  we think that when we are all on the same page, we have unity. but that not true unity; instead, it’s homogeneity that was never the idea. the kingdom of God is about holding our differences in love.

real unity is honoring our differences and being bound together by love.  

it’s the virtue that binds us all together.

one of the things i most deeply respect about life in our little wild refuge community is that we do not agree on everything.  we don’t have a statement of faith that automatically discerns who believes what (you can read what we do have written down; it’s one of my most favorite things we’ve ever written) and weeds people out.  we don’t espouse a “here’s what we are sure God says about this or that” or a membership class that people need to sign in on before they can be part.   when it comes to some of these tough issues of our faith, we are all over the map, with far left & far right and everything in between all tangled up together.

it’s honestly one of the prettiest things i’ve ever seen.

rich & poor alongside, even though life is so different from each other.  educated & uneducated alongside, because people are people no matter how much schoolin’ we’ve had.  liberal & conservative alongside, because love supersedes political viewpoints.  gay & straight alongside, even with different views theologically.   married & single alongside, because we need each other desperately.  men & women alongside, because friendship is a way to practice & learn the ways of love.

we don’t see each other through any of those labels.  we see each other as human beings, created in God’s image, all with the most important thing in common–a desire to love & be loved.   

when it comes to last week’s conversation, i want to highlight an important point about our life together.  our gay friends aren’t here making sure everyone agrees with them & our straight friends with a more scriptural conservative bent aren’t trying to prove anything. the same is true about any of our other differences.  the reason this works is because love is the thread that binds us all together.  as a leader in this community, that’s what we work our asses off to try to cultivate: a culture of safety (not of comfort but of real safety in a loving, challenging christian community).

and in a true culture of safety, we can disagree.

in fact, disagreeing is good.  when we don’t allow room for seeing things differently then we are in danger of creating more pockets of conformity and not living humbly in the tension of being uncomfortable.  our discomfort & differences force us to rely on God’s spirit to help us let go & trust & learn & wait and love more freely.

the world doesn’t need more pockets of conformity.  there are plenty of those to go around.

what we need are more brave expressions of little pockets of love & freedom, where Christ’s restoration of human dignity and value is at the center despite our differences. where humility is practiced in a very active way. where submission, one to another and not just one-way-that-works-for-those-with-the-most-power, is embedded into the fabric of life together.

but even though i think the refuge is awfully pretty (it’s ugly to the un-Jesus-trained eye, though, i promise), it is also a very tricky space to hold.

some have left over time, frustrated that we hold the tension between differing views on the Bible & theology.  they want us to draw lines in the sand and make things clearer.  some get annoyed at having to make friends with people who aren’t like them.  others really want better music & teaching & comfier chairs & something a little more predictable.

we refuse.

because we think there’s much more to learn about the ways of Love through our differences and discomfort than through our we-all-think-and-believe-the-same-thing and church-is-about-being-comfortable default.

my hope for the movement in the body of Christ and community cultivation is not that we sway everyone over to a new side on any of these issues and then all camp out together.   that would be way too easy (and is what i fear these hot topics will tempt people to do).  my hope is that we find a way to be together in our differences.  to create a culture of true safety that bravely lets go of telling-others-what-to-believe-with-utter-certainty-on-one-biblical-interpretation and instead wrestling with these hard realities of life together.  to see God’s image in each other and have that be enough to keep us united even when we might see the scriptures or life or a whole host of things different from each other.

love’s the thread that binds us all together in perfect unity.

it’s stronger than we think.

* * * * *

ps: karl’s blog is called church dreamer.  check out the about page & his first blog post, Jesus hates flatscreens.  oh yeah, it’s going to be fun.

]]> http://kathyescobar.com/2012/05/14/loves-the-thread-its-stronger-than-we-think/feed/ 26 http://kathyescobar.com/2012/05/11/unless-were-all-free-none-of-us-are-free/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=unless-were-all-free-none-of-us-are-free http://kathyescobar.com/2012/05/11/unless-were-all-free-none-of-us-are-free/#comments Fri, 11 May 2012 13:20:32 +0000 kathyescobar http://kathyescobar.com/?p=6170 “freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.“

- martin luther king, jr.

most of you know i’m a nut case for equality.  you hear me talking a lot about gender equality but that’s just because it’s a critical starting place.  when half of the population of the world is thought of as “less than”, we’re in serious trouble.  in a church that is supposed to be the free-est, most liberating place in town, we’re in even deeper trouble.  christians should be leading the way on equality in absolutely every area, yet we all know that on the whole, we are lagging behind, stuck in white privilege & imbalanced power & segregation and all kinds of things that are not reflective of the kingdom of God Jesus called us to create.

equality isn’t just about gender. it crosses into race, sexual orientation, socioeconomics, and any other ways we are divided that strip people’s dignity.

it’s not a side issue or a pet project  equality is a core issue of an active faith and one that as Christ-followers we are called to participate in creating.  here, now.

the fight for equal rights has never been a simple one.  all over the world, there are wars & battles & movements calling for change.  people are sacrificing all kinds of things on behalf of change, even their lives.   i believe passionately that we re called to be dignity restorers and champions of equality in every way, shape and form.  toni morrison says “the function of our freedom is to free someone else.”

i am supposed to use any freedom i have to help free my brothers & sisters who aren’t free yet.

yeah, unless we’re all free, none of us are free.

this week was a historic week in our country in the movement toward marriage equality.  i always say it’s easy to be against equal rights when we have the ones we want. i love that our president stepped out in a big and bold way to advocate for change that’s been a long-time-coming in this country.

it was brave.

i hope it calls all of us to be brave, too.

the reason it’s so risky to stand on behalf of change in a public way is because we’re scared.  we’re scared of what other people might think.  we are scared we’ll lose our jobs.  we are scared we’ll lose our ministries.  we are scared we’ll lose others approval.  we are scared we’ll be bullied alongside the outcast.

and the truth is that we might.

but it’s worth it.

because unless we’re all free, none of us are free.

galatians 5:13-15 says: “for you have been called to live in freedom, my brothers and sisters. but don’t use your freedom to satisfy your sinful nature. instead, use your freedom to serve one another in love. for the whole law can be summed up in this one command: “love your neighbor as yourself.” but if you are always biting and devouring one another, watch out! beware of destroying one another.”

i am so tired of all the destruction, all the ways christians have used the Bible & power & control to separate, divide, and strip others’ dignity.

but i firmly believe the solution is not in looking at how jacked up the system is and spending energy there.  it’s fun to rant & rave about it, but the truth is that ranting and raving won’t change anything.

what will change things is when we begin to vote with our feet (and in ballot boxes) and refuse to be part of churches & systems & groups that oppress.  period.  they aren’t going to get our money or our time or absolutely-anything-anymore and i don’t care how good their music, teaching, or kids program is.

when we risk our reputations and speak out for equality and freedom.

when we actively participate in setting others free.  that means creating little pockets of love & freedom where equality is practiced & dignity is restored.

our freedom is all tangled up together.  our dignity is all tangled up together.  our hope is all tangled up together.

Jesus shows us what love looks like–laying down our life for our friends.  this means we will pay a cost on behalf of love.  i am reminded of what cornell west says: “justice is what love looks like in public”

it’s time for change.  so many are starting to rise up from below.  there’s a holy stirring.  a hunger and thirst for justice and righteousness.  we are done sitting passively in our fear & complacency while our brothers & sisters are marginalized, oppressed, and stripped of their dignity.

the cost to us will be great.

we’ll lose our reputations, jobs, respect, friends, appearances of theological credibility, and a whole-bunch-of-other-things-that-are-worth-losing-on-behalf-of-doing-what’s-right.

it’s the least we can do.

so that’s why i’m writing this today.  to say strongly and clearly that i stand on behalf of my brothers & sisters and their fight for freedom.

because unless we’re all free, none of us are.

* * * * *

Years ago, if you looked up the definition of “Christian Good Girl”, I swear my picture would be right next to it. I was so good at being good! I knew how to keep the peace. I knew how to give people what they want. I know how to put my needs last. I knew how to say all the right things at the right time to sound really spiritual. I knew how to be nice.

Although I was not raised in a Christian home, when I turned my life over to Christ and joined his team, I found that all of the people-pleasing, peace-making, good-girl skills I had learned as a child of an alcoholic raised in chaos worked perfectly in the spiritual realm as well.

I earned all kinds of praise in the churches I was in for my good-girl-ness. Kathy’s so nice. Kathy’s such a team player. Kathy’s so easy to get along with.

None of these things were hard for me to do. They were like reflexes, a natural and immediate instinct to assess the situation, and then adjust to keep the peace and maintain whatever status quo needed to be maintained.

Over the years, though, as I started to do some personal healing work and begin to look at the unhealthy patterns in my life, something profound began to shift. I started to tell the truth about my own story. I started to not worry so much about what people thought. I started to advocate for others who couldn’t use their voices yet. I started to disagree. I started to use my voice and stir the pot about change in the church.

I started to worry more about pleasing God than pleasing man.

And guess what happened? Leaders didn’t like it. They liked me a lot better when I was following the rules, playing the good-girl game. A weird and subversive shift occurred when I started showing up more honestly, more passionately as a leader. The best words I can use to describe it are: “painful silence.”

In my situation, the painful silence lead to me losing a pastoral ministry job that I loved. The reality was that I was just not “good” enough, submissive enough, to be part of that system anymore. Honestly, if I could have switched back to the Good-Girl fast enough, I might have been able to save my job. Temporarily.

But I was too far gone. My soul and passion had started to come alive and I couldn’t turn back.

As difficult as that season was for me personally, professionally, and spiritually, I am so grateful for it because I learned the most important lesson of my life as a leader:

Well-behaved women won’t change the church.

We just won’t.

Well-behaved women will keep the wheels spinning on systems that keep working, keep growing, keep moving. We will do good and honorable work that matters and helps people and makes a difference in their communities.

But we won’t change the church.

Some people think the church doesn’t need changing; they’re fine with the way things are because it works for them. But I think there a lot more of us out here than even we ourselves know–passionate women who believe the body of Christ needs much more than a face-lift to become all it’s meant to be.

Yeah, well-behaved women will not change the church.

Instead, change in the church will come from not-so-well-behaved women who are willing to risk their pride, reputations, and “being liked” to stand for what God is stirring up in their hearts.

Change in the church will come when women who are called to lead, lead, even when others don’t think they can or should.

Change in the church will come when women refuse to squelch their gifts and begin to unleash them without asking for permission first.

Change in the church will come when women passionately follow Jesus, not systems-made-in-his-name-that-do-not-reflect-his-image.

Change in the church will come when women bravely use their voices, power, and any influence they have to inspire others to be brave, too.

I admit, it’s still sometimes hard for me to not be the good-girl. I miss the safety. I miss the praise. I miss the security, even if it was false. Some days I wish I could make nice like I used to because it was so much easier then.

But the Kingdom of God was never about easy. It was never about comfort. It was never about maintaining the status-quo. It was never about playing nice.

The Kingdom of God Jesus called us to participate in creating–here, now–isn’t well-behaved.

That’s reason enough for us not to be, either.

as always i am late to the party, been writing my brains out and traveling so my contribution is short and sweet.  laughter is the only way i can survive down here in the muck and mire of real life.  laughing at myself. laughing at irony.  laughing at the dramedy (drama + comedy) that is the best way to describe our lives.  fortunately, jose, my husband, makes me laugh every day and i am part of a community that values laughter, too.  i am not sure that comes across in some of the intensity of what i write here, but we have a helluva of a lot of fun in the midst of all this darkness.  in many ways, it’s the only way we survive.  

laughter is so healing.

every day i need a little lightness.  david hayward’s stuff makes me laugh out loud all the time.  here’s my all-time favorite cartoon from him (i thought it was pretty appropriate for our rebuilding after deconstructing series):

and this one sort of fits, too.   my friend jenny posted it last week with a little blurb about church.  so funny and oh so true.

and i am not quite sure how you could possibly watch this and not have it be contagious, no matter how many times you might have already seen it.

have a great week.  i hope you can find a way to laugh every day.  it heals.

* * * * *

other bloggers writing about this topic this month:

• Jeremy Myers at Till He Comes – Lighten Up! 
• Maria Kettleson Anderson at My Real Journey - The Art of Passionately Lightening Up
• Melody Harrison at Logic and Imagination – {I Don’t Do Joy}
• Wendy McCaig - Lighten Up: Learning to Let Go From A Man Who Lost It All
• Carol Kuniholm at Words Half Heart – Resurrection Laughter
• R. Lee Bayes at Southern Humanist – Loving Light 
• Alan Knox – Be Sarcastic With One Another 
• Patrick Oden at Dueling Ravens - Truth, Beauty, and Yodeling Pickles
• Christine Sine at Godspace – Lighten Up: It Really is the Best Medicine 
• Glenn Hager -  Margaritas, Metallica, and A Serious Case of the Giggles.
• Liz Dyer at Grace Rules – A Spoonful of Sugar 
• K.W. Leslie at More Christ – When Jesus Made A Funny
• Maurice Broaddus – Why So Serious? 
• Ellen Haroutunian – A Laughing God 

i use the word “crazy” all the time when i talk about life down here because compared to the big church machine, it is.

people really do think we are crazy (can’t tell you the number of people who say “i could never do what you guys do” like it’s some kind of weird anomaly in the church of Jesus Christ to actively love one another [that's crazy]).  but the truth is that we’ve sort of adopted that language, too.  that what we’re doing is somehow “crazy”.

i recently had a very short but lovely conversation with two missional church cultivators who are doing what we’d call “crazy” work, too.   in the conversation one of them said, “i used to think we were crazy but then i started re-thinking it.  i began to say, hey, we’re not the crazy ones here. read the gospels, this is so not crazy.  that system is what’s crazy!”

“that system is what’s crazy!”

those words have really lingered and i’ve been thinking about them all week.

what if we reframed crazy when it comes to church?

what if instead of thinking that small-missional-communities-and-people-working-on-the-fringes-of-life-and-faith were crazy, we started thinking that maybe these things were actually crazy instead:

isn’t it a little crazy that in the church supposedly built upon the teachings of Jesus Christ that half of the population is silenced and kept underneath the other half? 

isn’t it a little crazy that millions of people go to church each week and never talk to anyone past saying “hello” to a greeter?

isn’t it a little crazy that the same people who are marginalized on the outside of the church are marginalized on the inside, too?

isn’t it a little crazy that there is usually never a really poor person or a hurting person or a single mom on a board of elders?

isn’t it a little crazy that for the most part the pretty and the popular and the outwardly strong are the only ones we ever see or hear from up front?

isn’t it a little crazy that millions of dollars are spent on buildings & staff salaries while people in the congregations are on food stamps & medicaid?

isn’t it a little crazy how much money & energy & time is spent on dynamic teaching, amazing worship, and an awesome kids program that happens for one hour every week?

isn’t it a little crazy that every church has so many people with amazing gifts & passions & talents that not one person in their congregation even knows about?

isn’t it a little crazy that there are so many people who go to church each week but do not personally know one single poor person ?

isn’t it a little crazy that following Jesus has become about going to church & believing certain things & listening to certain radio stations or voting for certain candidates?

isn’t it a little crazy that pastors have to pay exorbitant amounts of money to seminaries to somehow become “qualified”?  

isn’t it a little crazy that we don’t think this is crazy?

seriously, we need to reframe crazy when it comes to church!

a place where people can share openly about their addictions & struggles & hopes & doubts & fears.  breaking the divide between us & them.  women freely leading alongside men as equals.  all welcome and not only until they’re actually honest. safe places for gifts to be fanned into flame with no power or control trips.  a focus on living out the Bible instead of talking about the Bible.  tangible ways to love & care & serve & learn how to be a friend.  dialogue instead of passive listening.  experiencing instead of watching.

i’m pretty sure when it comes to following Jesus these things aren’t supposed to be “crazy”.  

to the world, yes.  to the church built on his name, um, i don’t think so.

yeah, we so need to reframe crazy when it comes to church.

as we wrap up, i wanted to put all of the links for the series in one place, so here they are:

• rebuilding after deconstructing (intro)
• 1. honoring the process
• 2. acknowledging losses
• 3. discovering what remains 
• 4. finding what works 
• 5. celebrating what was
• 6. igniting passion
• 7. exploring possibilities
• 8. trusting the path

plus:

• helpful & oh-not-so-helpful things people say during deconstruction
• soul care & spiritual practices for deconstruction
• i used to…but now i…

also, i would love some feedback on areas you’d like to continue to explore related to this topic. there are a couple i already know of in the works: what about the kids? what happens when spouses are in different places completely?  how can we find safe community in new ways?  

what else would you like to process here?  let me know in the comments section.

another question is “now what” for some of you who would like to keep processing through the journey with others who understand in a safe place.  there are all kinds of great things online related to faith shifts & if you have any sites you want to recommend, please do.  related specifically to this conversation, jim fisher started a closed facebook group called “faith under construction” that will be exploring some of these ideas & more online. if you have some pretty big church wounds and think some extra processing might be helpful, maybe you can consider joining our next online walking wounded: hope for those hurt by the church group, hosted at live it to the full (we don’t have an exact date right now but you can email me and i’ll let you know when we get it set).  another great site for those healing from church woundedness is www.churchburned.com, hosted by my friend travis klaussen.

lastly, i thought i’d post a few links to old posts that many of you may not have read before that are centered on this topic.  remember my disclaimer:  i am a work in progress and please don’t hold me to everything i’ve said here over the years.  i haven’t re-read all of these in detail,  but i hope that somehow, someway, anything shared here can bring a little bit of hope on this wild & crazy path of rebuilding after deconstruction.

these are the ones that jumped out at me as i looked back (just some light reading, ha ha):  

• surviving spiritual vertigo - tips for grieving the shift
• jenga faith - our faith is stronger than we might think
• kids & faith: what are we creating? - what happens to the kids when we start slipping off the slope
• we’re in good company - mother teresa had some pretty serious doubts, too.
• doubt & faith series: doubt & faith: the wild beautiful ride, doubt & faith: owning our egocentric tendencies, doubt & faith: new ways for old words, doubt & faith – God, you out there?, doubt & faith -  living in the tension
• praying when you can’t find your prayer beads or have taken the word “quiet time” out of your vocabulary - prayer practices
• a nifty chart for the journey:  stages in the life of faith - the original post about the stages of faith chart
• what’s your score:  a walking wounded quiz - we used this way back in 2007, makes me laugh every time.
• what’s inside the bunny? – rethinking spiritual maturity and unlearning church things that leave us hollow
• home  - the reality of spiritual and emotional homelessness
• practical theology – where is God in my real life?
• serenity & courage – the serenity prayer is so healing! a little exercise to remember what we can change & what we can’t
• actually, the grass is greener - yes, it sure is even though they told me it wasn’t.
• church refugee video series: church refugees – part 1, church refugees – part 2, life outside the bubble, church refugees – part 3, spiritual practices
• rethinking the word christian video series - wrestling with the word “christian”, taking things off the table to get to what’s underneath, going back because there’s nowhere else to go
• paradox - accepting parts of ourselves & others & God that are contradictory
• letting God off the hook - when i stopped blaming God for everything
• a time to – this might be a helpful exercise, it was for me.
• yep, i guess i’m a heretic – i’m thinking some of you are, too.
• linear, never was never will be – some thoughts on hope for change

have a great weekend! peace and courage, kathy

on monday (yeah, i haven’t had a rant in a while):  reframing crazy when it comes to church

the other day when i was driving in my car thinking about this series, an old post that i wrote 3 years ago came to mind.  it’s called “i-used-to-but-now-i”. i thought it actually might be a helpful exercise as part of our conversation on rebuilding after deconstructing because it’s centered on respecting where we were and where we are now.

it’s about recognizing & giving language to some of the new.  it’s honoring shifts and helps us say “here’s what’s changed.”

it’s funny, my list from 2009 is so long, but as i looked through it many things still resonated, although maybe not as important to me today as they were then.  as part of this practice, i decided to make a new list, some are from 3 years ago and there are definitely some new ones, too.  i thought maybe some of you might want to give it a try, too.

my 2012 i used to…but now i’s…:

i used to have a fear-centered faith.  now i have a love-centered one.

i used to think the christian life was one of ascent & i kept feeling like a loser because i couldn’t get there. now i think it looks more like descent & it takes away the pressure.

i used to think church was about getting what i wanted–inspiration & wow.   now i think it’s about getting what i actually need–a place to practice loving & being loved.  

i used to feel the need for things to be black and white and make perfect sense. now i really appreciate the gray & the mystery of the “i don’t knows.”

i used to think people could pull themselves up by their bootstraps & change their lives with enough prayer and hard work. now i see how truly complicated poverty, mental illness, and a host of other problems really are.

i used to think that if i talked about God enough & my kids could regurgitate enough scripture verses i’d be a good parent. now i see our actions are far more important than words.

i used to be two people, one on the outside & one on the inside.  now there’s just one of me, with all my strengths & all my weaknesses.   

i used to read the Bible for knowledge.  now i read it for beauty & challenge.  

i used to never even notice the lack of women and underrepresented groups in church leadership. now i can see and smell it from a mile away.

i used to hold on to everything and so tightly.  now i’m trying to practice a looser grip. 

i used to think the kingdom of God was really really narrow. now i think it’s bigger than i ever imagined.

i used to spend a lot of energy shaking my fists. now i am most interested in planting new trees.  

what are some of your “i used to…but now i’s…?”

i’d love to hear!