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.