Holy Dog

Conscience is the Holy Dog, sent to bite us on the back of the neck that we will fall to the ground before we fall off the cliff.  I am not the Holy Dog, but I know his teeth well.  I am a voice.  A voice for the voiceless.  And my voice is strong.  So on this I will speak and pray the Dog finds his mark.

As we approach the most important day in the Christian calendar, I am confronted by you every year.  You say you love me.  You say you are a safe place to be who I am.  You encourage me to open my deep pain to you and promise that if I only will, I will find what you have and we will be closer.

But I don't know what you have.  I only know what I have, good and bad.  So I look at you, knowing you can be good and bad as well.  I know that you lie.  I see that no one can be what you claim.  I even know more of what you supposedly know than you can imagine and by your actions you confirm to me that you do not know it well, if at all.

You, church, are a sham, a show, a club created to draw me in with promises that touch a sore place only to leave me hollow, more wounded, and drained.  You are a scam.

You love me?  You don't even know me.  If you do, then why do you constantly tell me I am wrong?

We are all wrong sometimes?  Then why do you never admit it?  No I mean candidly, honestly admit it.  When I gave my vacation money that you promised to use to win the City and only used it to renovate your own building, which you have subsequently re-renovated. Did you give it back?  Did you make amends?  Did you admit you were wrong? I never heard another word about it.

When you said you saw something in me and asked me to help because I had a gift, then left me off the schedule and replaced me without a word, was that love, or flattery to fill the gap in your volunteers? I never heard another word about it.

When you built the giant community building that has less people there than before you built it...you know the one.  It's just like the 25 others at 25 other churches across the area that stand less than half full, and certainly none have fulfilled their promise to win the City.  Were you wrong, or mistaken?  When you were offered warning that this would happen and refused to heed it, calling me obstructionist and quencher, were you justified?  I never heard another word about it.

When you openly accused me of error for not giving to your church when in fact I give to another, plus several charities that you knew nothing about, did you restore my honor before others?

When you said you had a message from God for me that turned out to be entirely wrong, were you malicious or mistaken?  I heard nothing about it after that.

When you said it was a safe place then gave me a look of dire shock and quickly changed the subject as soon as I mentioned my pain, did you provide aid?

When you asked me to join your dinner even though I told you I didn't share your beliefs, assuring me it was just friendly dinner, then started a seminar on evangelism, even asking me for money, then yelled at me for asking why you tried to trick me, did you seek restitution before continuing your ministry?

When you put on a brave face to go on with your service, even though you are not at all in a good place. When you faked emotion on the stage and then collapsed in a huff backstage until the next song.  When you told me I can question, can come as I am, that God will reveal, and yet deny me access to your circle unless I sign your covenants.  When you subtly enforce the appearance before I've understood the meaning...

For all these things I call you wrong.  I call you in error.  I call you out.

Doubtless you will say I am ungracious, but in fact, I am far more gracious than you.  I know I have problems and I know you do too.  Even still I want to be your friend.  But when I hurt a friend, I attempt to make it right, not to make excuses.  I don't give sermons on how I am imperfect too and need your forgiveness...I apologize directly for what I've done.  I try to do better.  I take steps to make it right.  You on the other hand, seem more about making enemies than friends.

This is what I say for the voiceless. 

Who are they?  You'll see them Sunday.  They look like they're trying to fit in, but can't.  They look like they don't quite know how you do things?  They have a darkness behind their smile.  Some look like you and some look nothing like you.  But most of them, you'll only see once.  Others, will give you a few more chances.  And many of them have a deeper and truer understanding of the good God that you claim to represent.  Whitewashed tombs!

I am the voice for the voiceless.  The face for the faceless.  I will also be there Sunday.  I look different from you, so that every time you look at me, you are reminded of them.  You'll see that I've heard it before and I'm not buying it.  You'll see the sadness in my eyes for you and the tenderness in my eyes for them.  And then I'll walk away without a word and go hang out with them. And where we are, there will be Church.  Where a genuine affection is shared, there will be Church.  Where a fault is known and born for sake of the other, there will be Church.  Where they bear with differing opinions for sake of friendship, where one friend supports another, where both try to outdo each other in generosity, where no one shies from the pain of others because they know how bad it hurts...THERE will be CHURCH!  Whether you're there or not.

Railing

My reader...the only one I think (maybe I should just address these like letters to that person) said that my posts can change dramatically in style and tone. I recognize that and apologize by saying that I wanted this blog to be raw and real, so those swings are actually swings in me, chronicled in the hopes that some other soul may read them and feel less alone...but I know it makes it hard to read sometimes...which is probably why I have one reader. Whom I am tempted to call the "fan base", but I'll leave that reference there just to see if anyone ever gets it.

I also noticed that my blogs tend to be railing sorts of things. Not always, but a good deal of them. My facebook posts are even more so. I don't really like that about myself. I don't start out to be that way. And I don't feel like a very angry or miserable person always. I just think those are the things that get posted more. I have a hard time writing happy drivel.

Honestly, I try very hard not to be negative. This is an uphill battle as anyone who reads this blog will know about me. But it isn't helped by the fact that there are just so many darn insufferable things out there. What is insufferable? Well, for me it is misrepresentations, usurpations, manipulations, by those who claim (and are expected) not to do so. In my world, these are usually people who call themselves Christians and the organizations that they operate. I can't judge what goes on in their hearts, but I can comment on their actions. I want to be clear that I do not judge the person as I judge the actions. I don't. And since no one but God can see into my heart as well, you'll just have to take my word on that. I hope my actions bear it out as well.

I want Truth. I want what is real. Recently, I went into church after a few weeks out. I've been slowly extricating myself from that system of religious obligation and manipulation, but was feeling open and ready to see if God would speak through those present. I was trying hard to not be bothered by the usual irks (plastic expressions on singers, forced hype, awkward smiles covering real hurts, etc.) And then, what met my ears was, well, insufferable to me yet again. I fully believe in a real hell. I've experienced enough of it and what comes out of it to know this, so we are on the same page at the root. I was even able to look past the short-sighted Biblical citations. They were correct in reading, but the speaker failed to mention (if he knew) how those who counter them do so. There are some very good arguments against them that make it hard to use those verses alone as proof of point to someone who knows how to argue at all. If he knew and chose not to mention it, he only sends his flock out with false security against wolves.

But then he went on to start nothing short of brainwashing. Telling the congregation that they may have questions, but so what. Throw them out because if the Bible said it, that was all they needed. At this I was piqued. But then he went on to have a call-response where the congregation was supposed to repeat the mantra that they didn't need proof and their questions didn't matter. I had had enough. I had to walk out. What I felt like doing was interrupting the whole sermon by calling out the heresy right there. Maybe I should have, but most wouldn't have understood what I meant and those that did would have been too bound by their own issues to accept it. I would have instantly rocked their boats so hard, they would have instinctually thrown me out simply to stop the shaking.

So I went to the bathroom to hide for a minute, then look for a place to go. Everywhere I went there were people milling around who knew me and wouldn't understand. I couldn't attempt to talk to them, they'd see my upset. So I had to go outside.

Out there was a world. A world that God made and lived in. There were things living and moving and happening. It was calming. A whole different tone from the cursed tomb that was being created inside what should be a place of life, a well of living water. Instead it was turned into a stinking sepulchre of religious bondage.

Jesus never spoke to people that way. Jesus went to lengths to be tender to people's needs. To meet them where they were. To explain and build trust. He even met with one scholar one on one to explain one of the seminal passages in the Bible! I'm sure he must have done it more, but we don't have record. He still does this today. I thought we believed he was a living and active and caring God. Yet speakers like this try to force their point on the masses who look to them for guidance through manipulative techniques like that. God, it would be better to have mill stones hung on their necks and be thrown into the sea than to lead those astray. The Bereans were commended for questioning what they were taught and searching it out to see if it was true, not expected to blindly repeat what they were told! It hurts me and makes me want to rend my clothes! And my only outlet for this is some lonely blog with one reader. I am thankful for that, don't misunderstand. But it makes my heart cry out like David, "How long, God?!" How long will this evil continue? God I want to see your mercy and grace poured out on these people, even the speaker.

And yet these masses will listen for a while, until the stench builds so strong in their noses that they know something isn't right. Then they leave as well...probably to be more disgusted with Christianity and less friendly to the one who came to do away with this very thing. Jesus only ever railed against the religious and self-righteous...with good reason.