Prayer, Trust and Churchianity

Lately I've been thinking about prayer—about the weird ideas we Churchians have developed about prayer, and about how they fit (or not) with our claim to trust God. I mean, we trust God, right? We know (stop me when I'm wrong) that he is all-powerful, all-knowing, loving, good, and basically smarter than we are. Right? He has a plan, and a place for each of us in that plan. And I have to assume that his plan is bigger and better than anything I could come up with¹. Anyone disagree yet?

So...why do we give him instructions?

We claim to trust God completely, and yet we feel a need to instruct him. To tell him how and when to meet our needs and wants. If you have any Churchians as Facebook friends, you see it all the time: "I had an interview today—pray that I get the job!" "Please pray that my cousin doesn't get deployed to Afghanistan". "Going to look at a new car—pray that we get it!" Hmmm. Well, what if that job isn't the place where God wants you? Do you still want me to ask him to put you there? What if God's plan for the world depends on your cousin being in Afghanistan? Is it OK if I ask for God's will to be done, or would you really rather have me ask him to do your will?

Doesn't make sense, does it?

Right now, I have a situation in my own life². There's this thing that I really want. From where I'm sitting, it looks like a thing that would be great for me and my family in several different ways. It totally seems to fit with God's plan (his plan as understood and interpreted by me, that is). It's a no-brainer: this is obviously a good thing and must be God's will for me. So. What do I do? Ask all my friends to pray that this thing happens like I want it to? Beg God endlessly myself? "Please God please God please God make this good thing happen"? In my past life as a Churchian, that's exactly what I would have done.

But...

Do I trust God, or not? Do I believe that he has a plan, and a place for me in that plan? Well, yes. I do. If this super great thing is actually a super great part of his super great plan, do I need to tell him to make it happen? Kind of ridiculous, isn't it? Me giving God instructions, like maybe he forgot what he was supposed to do next?

So then, what? Don't pray?

As a recovering Churchian, I'm tempted to fall back to my default setting of praying for my will instead of God's. But here's how I've been reminding myself to pray, about my current situation as well as other things that I want/need/worry about: "God, thank you that your plan is better than my plan. I give this situation to you. Please carry out your plan, and please make my will match up with yours."

Amen

1. His plan is better than mine. That doesn't always mean that I'll like it better, especially in the short term.
2. Nothing big, bad, or scary, I promise.

Are you "saved"?

"Saved"—one of our great Churchian phrases. It's great for defining who's in and who's out. It lets us categorize everyone as saved or unsaved and rest in the assurance that we who are saved are better than those who are not. But how can you tell who's saved? You don't always have access to the response cards¹ to see who checked which box, so there has to be some other measuring stick.

"You will know them by their fruit"²

We Churchians all know what that means, right? It means that you can tell who's in and who's out by how well they follow the rules, how often they go to church and what kinds of good deeds they do. Growing up in Churchian circles, I learned two Very Important Things: Jesus wants to give you the totally free gift of salvation; and there is a long list of rules you'll need to follow once you accept that totally free gift. Huh?

It's a classic bait-and-switch tactic:

Here's this free gift! Take it! We'll talk later about the monthly membership fees. And the lifestyle restrictions. And you'll probably need to take some classes to learn how to follow all the rules associated with this totally free, no-strings-attached gift. It'll be great!

Why can't we get more people to sign on for this deal?³

And the real question: why are we Churchians so invested in making up rules and complicating the simple gift Jesus offers?

Well...accepting charity is hard on the self-esteem. If we accept that Jesus really doesn't want or need anything from us, we have to come to terms with accepting his charity. Who wants to feel like they're in need of someone's help? Not me. I like to think that I'm pretty self-sufficient and have my, um, "stuff" together. Could that be why I've spent so many years being proud of my rule-following and good works? "Yeah, me and God, we're friends. He saved me and stuff because he needs me to follow all these rules and help him with things. Totally a give-and-take relationship."

Nope.

The truth is that we suck. I suck. I'm basically clueless, useless and not nice, and I need God. He doesn't need anything from me.

This is not a balanced relationship.

So then, what do we have to be all proud of ourselves about? We love this "us against them", "I'm OK and they're not" mentality that lets us feel like we're better than those poor unsaved saps. But it's pretty ridiculous, isn't it?

So, are you "saved"? Am I?

Well...I'd have to say I am in the process of being saved. Jesus is saving me from sin, from myself, and from Churchianity, but that process is nowhere near complete. "Getting saved"⁴ is not an event, when we step over a magical line separating the good guys from the bad guys. It's a process...a journey. So how about if we worry less about categorizing people and show some grace⁵ to people⁶, wherever they are on the road?

1. The documents many churches collect in order to compile statistics on people's spiritual progress.
2. Matthew 7:16
3. Not a real question, by the way.
4. Please...can we just stop using this phrase?
5. For examples of grace, read about Jesus.
6. Yes, even to fellow Churchians.

Riding public transportation is a little like going to the zoo

Right? Anyone who rides regularly knows what I'm talking about. There are all kinds of things to watch—some of the creatures do funny things, some are kind of icky, some are cute, some are fun to interact with, some smell weird, some are a little disturbing, and a few are even kind of scary. It's always interesting, though, and it can be educational. You know, broadening. A cultural experience. Me, venturing briefly out of my corner of the suburbs to watch other species live their lives.

When I first started riding the MAX regularly, I found all this all pretty entertaining. Kind of...compensation for the annoyance of being forced to share space with people I wouldn't particularly choose to share space with. I made a point of choosing a single seat whenever I could in order to minimize the space-sharing. I carefully focused my attention on my book, avoiding eye contact and discouraging conversation. I ignored other riders, except when I was amusing myself by posting the funny/rude/ignorant things they said on Facebook.

But then something happened

I've been a regular public transit rider for almost two years now, and something has changed. I've started to see these zoo exhibits as people. You know, human beings. People who are more like me than I'd like to admit. People who I could be if some of my circumstances were different. People who Jesus treasures.

Crazy, right?

I read Donald Miller's Blue Like Jazz recently¹ (largely during my MAX commute) and I keep coming back to a thought from that book about loving people. Miller talks about learning to love someone he initially found incredibly obnoxious, and he talks about love as being delighted at this guy's existence. This is the phrase that comes to mind often during my commute these days. The loud-mouthed teenager with an apparently limited vocabulary? Jesus is delighted at her existence. The smelly homeless guy taking up three seats with his stuff? Jesus is delighted at his existence. That guy who insists on playing games on his iPad with the sound turned up, while using his earbuds for his music? Ahem². Jesus is delighted at his existence. And hey, that smug suburban mom judging people around her while commuting from her comfortable home to her cushy part-time job? Yeah. Jesus is delighted at my existence.

Whoa

Changes the way you think about things, right? This new way of thinking is pretty, well, new to me. I wouldn't say that it's led to any life-changing³ encounters, but it has led me to give someone a smile rather than an inner eye-roll. It's led me to engage people around me in conversation, and to treat them like human beings rather than zoo exhibits. You know, kind of like Jesus might be doing if he was riding the MAX.

1. Yeah, I'm years late in reading it. I don't think I was ready for it when it was new, though, so it all worked out.

2. Dude, SERIOUSLY.

3. Other people's lives, I mean. It's definitely changing MY life.

In progress...

Just so you know, I haven't abandoned this blog completely.  Thinking has just been such hard work that both thinking and writing seem like too much at the moment.  I'll be back soonish with a new post...

Thinking is hard work

Sometimes it hurts.  It's a lot easier to accept what you're taught without examining it.  Sometimes...I wish I could just take the blue pill and go back to sleep.  Back to a time when I didn't have all these questions.  But here's the thing: there is no Matrix.   In real life, once you know the red pill exists, the blue pill is powerless.  There's no going back—there's only pretending.  So the choice comes down to truth or willful denial.  Argh.

And not only that, but truth is so...elusive.  Anyone who thinks he knows all truth, that he is right about everything, is fooling himself.  Wouldn't it be great if there was a Sudoku, or a crossword, or a mathematical formula that, once solved, gave us the ability to correctly perceive truth?  Instead, we get to study and ponder and wonder, and eventually arrive at something that we can only hope is more true than not.

It's at this point that I start to make even myself nervous, sounding all agnostic and stuff.  After all, I was raised in church, so I know that agnostics are definitely going to hell.  The only people who escape are those who unquestioningly believe what they were taught in Sunday School, right?

But I can't help it—I have to wonder.  Why would God leave the answers to so many important questions open to interpretation?  Why wouldn't He just lay out the Sixteen Fundamentals of Faith in the Sermon on the Mount?  How can so many people sincerely study His Word so thoroughly and arrive at different conclusions?  Is it possible that He wants us to explore, and seek, and think, and even (gasp) question?

I know, I'm supposed to have “faith like a child”.  And honestly?  I think I do.  I trust God.  I trust that He knows me, and loves me, and is smarter than I am.  I trust that He is big enough to handle my questions, and that He wants me to know the truth.  I trust that He is an infinitely patient father, even when I am stuck in this annoying stage of constantly asking “why?”.  I trust that He will walk with me through this stage, and that better understanding waits for me on the other side of it.

Let's talk about church clothes

I feel like I should be doing a Christmas post, but I'm not. I apologize if you're disappointed, but instead I'd like to talk about the latest thing that's been rattling around in my head: why a special wardrobe is required to go to church.

Yes, a lot of churches are pretty casual these days.

Even my church shows a lot of denim on Sunday mornings, but as a lifelong Churchian and The Pastor's Wife, I just can't do it. And I've been thinking about why that is. In spite of all my talk about abandoning the rules and not worrying about judgment from my fellow Churchians, I have to admit: I'm a little afraid that someone might think thoughts if I wore jeans on a Sunday morning. So I don't. Even on the days that I really really want to¹.

So who cares? Does it matter what I wear to church?

Um, yes. Like it or not, what I wear says something about me. Some types of clothing are appropriate for certain situations and ridiculous elsewhere (swim suits and wedding dresses come to mind). There are some clothing items that I would argue are never appropriate anywhere (Crocs, obviously²). But what is appropriate for church? And what do I want my Sunday morning outfit to say?

Oh, and just who am I talking to through my clothes?

Great, just what I need: one more thing to overthink. But really, let's examine this for a minute. By insisting on “church clothes” for church, who am I dressing for? Am I dressing to impress the young mom who wants to check out this church thing but isn't sure it's for her? The one who sneaks in and sits in the back because she's not sure she's dressed right³? Well, no. I'm dressing to please the small minority of my fellow Churchians who still care about dressing up for church.

Remember: church is weird.

For people who didn't grow up as Churchians, going to church can be weird and scary. It's like trying to integrate into an unfamiliar foreign culture. So why throw up one more obstacle for people who are new to church? Why make them feel like they have to buy a new wardrobe first? I can't speak from a man's perspective, since I've never been one, but I guarantee that for a woman—feeling like you don't have the right clothes could absolutely keep you away from church.

Great. Something else I have to face.

Now that I've thought through the reasons for my church clothes, I'm going to have to face this lingering bit of fear of what Churchians think of me. I don't have any illusions that what I, personally, wear to church will set the tone for who we are as a church and throw our doors open in welcome to our community. But maybe...maybe...seeing The Pastor's Wife in jeans will reassure that young mom in the back that her clothes are fine. And maybe it will help me remember why I'm there, and who I'm trying to impress. Maybe.

1. Just to be clear, I have no hang-up at all with anyone other than myself wearing jeans to church. Ten years ago? Yes. But I'm way over it now.

2. I'm kidding, of course. That's just a really funny joke.

3. Men reading this may not be tracking, but trust me: women think about this stuff a lot.

What is Prayer, Anyway?

We've established that it's not a mystical force to be idolized, but what IS it? How do you do it right?

Ask a Churchian:

They might tell you what they have been taught—that prayer is talking to God. It is, but we Churchians can't let anything be that simple. We know that to do it right, you need to close your eyes when you talk to God. It's also preferable to use Biblical-sounding language and to follow a formula based on the Lord's Prayer, or possibly the ABCs of Prayer. And you should be aware that prayer doesn't really count unless you do it early in the morning or at a specially designated prayer meeting. As a matter of fact, since the process is extremely complicated and requires skill and concentration, it may be advisable to take a class on prayer (or at a minimum, read a couple of books on the topic) before attempting it.

Given all these factors, is it surprising that many Churchians have decided that prayer is best left to the professionals? Instead of attempting their own amateur prayers, they instead submit their “prayer requests” to the pastor and “prayer team”.

A classic case of unintended consequences

The intent in holding classes and writing books on prayer, obviously, was to help people pray more. I suspect that instead, the message many Churchians have received is that they shouldn't bother with prayer unless they can do it right. Just talking to God and trying to listen to Him? That doesn't count.

What we like to call “the right way”*:

Can we agree that the purpose of prayer is communicating with God? Think about how you communicate with someone you're close to:

1. You talk to them when you have something to say—you have a need, or a feeling you want to share, or just something you want them to know. You probably don't have designated “communication time” or “communication meetings”. Or maybe you do—but communication with that person is not restricted only to those times.
2. You sound like yourself when you talk to them. No need for a script or formula. You just talk.
3. You listen to them. You tune in to what they have to say to you, and you stop talking long enough to hear them.

Here's the thing: God is wherever you are, and He wants to hear from you. No need to wait for a prayer meeting. You don't even have to get up early to pray (if you're not a morning person, nobody knows that better than God—He made you!). Just talk to Him. You need something? You have questions? TALK TO HIM.

And don't forget the other half of the equation: listen to Him. In my experience, the #1 way God talks to us is through that great big book He gave us. It's not the only way, but it's the reason He gave us the Bible. Go ahead and throw out your Churchian “devotional guide” that tells you to spend a certain amount of time praying and a separate period of time reading the Bible. Two-way communication with God is the point of it all, right? Talk to Him, listen to Him, and get to know His voice. It really is that simple.

*If you follow this link and look for the prayer lesson in the clip, there isn't one--just the origin of the phrase I used for the section heading at about 1:05.

The Church's Favorite Idols

Having grown up as a Churchian, I've heard many sermons on the dangers of modern-day idolatry¹. Youth pastors often warn teenage Churchians against making idols of things like romantic relationships and entertainment. Older Churchians know that they must guard against allowing their careers, homes, and finances to become idols. Because we Churchians are also humans, though, knowing doesn't necessarily remove the problem. In our determination to avoid idolizing Wordly Things², we've managed to create our own idols within the church. Our Churchian idols are harder to recognize. They're sneaky, because they look like good things. For that matter, they usually are good things. They're just a little out of balance, slightly twisted, or misunderstood. For example?

Prayer.

Yes. For some Churchians, prayer is an idol.

Before you stone me, let me explain.

If you ask a Churchian what prayer is, he will probably tell you that it is talking to God. And yet, in reality, many Churchians view prayer as a force in its own right, rather than a means of communication. Don't believe me? Think about the much-used-in-the-church phrase, “the power of prayer”. What does that mean? If you have spent much time in evangelical churches, you know what it means: that the right kind of prayer, in sufficient quantities, has the power to make God do things. We have been taught that if we pray enough, using the correct prayer formula, God will do what we tell him to do. So we read books about prayer, take classes on prayer, and show up to prayer meetings, all in an attempt to access the power of prayer...completely missing that prayer is a means of communicating with God, not an end in itself.

Know what else can be an idol?

Worship.³

Similar to the phenomenon of prayer idolatry, but this one is especially prevalent in charismatic and Pentecostal churches. In fact, if that is not your background, you probably won't know what I'm talking about here, and you have my permission to skip this section.

As with prayer, worship music is often viewed as a force of some kind, rather than a tool—the right combination of talent, sincerity and congregational participation is believed to have the power to produce the presence of God. If the musicians are off their game or the congregation isn't sufficiently engaged, you may hear someone say that they “just didn't feel the presence”. Some Churchians move from church to church, searching for the one that conjures that feeling on Sunday mornings.

The problem with this mindset is that those people are missing the actual presence of God as they chase after feelings. When people gather to meet with God, He is there whether I feel Him or not.

I don't want to miss Him any more.

1. For those who may be unfamiliar with Churchian vernacular, Webster defines idolatry as “the worship of a physical object as a god” or “immoderate attachment or devotion to something”. In the church, it generally means allowing any object or relationship to take precedence over one's commitment to following Jesus.

2. A Churchian phrase with a wide range of meanings—depending on who you are talking to, it could refer to something apparently harmless but not overtly religious, or to the worst of sins.

3. In Churchian circles, worship almost always refers to music—singing songs about and to God. 

Jesus is not a Republican

Contrary to what many Churchians seem to believe, I am fairly confident that He is not. At least, not the gun-loving, gay-hating, clinic-picketing, pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps, the-poor-can-take-care-of-themselves, anti-healthcare reform variety that has become known as the “Christian Right”. Is this really what we, the Church of Jesus Christ, want to be known for?

BARF

Now, I understand why Christians have aligned themselves on the right. I do. I'm not old enough to have experienced this political shift firsthand, but I hear it wasn't always this way. The shift, I believe, came about largely because of the controversy surrounding the legalization of abortion. So, let me be clear: I hate abortion, and if I could wave my wand and make sure it never happened again, I would. But just because I agree more with the Republican party's stance on this one issue¹, somehow that means that I'm supposed to knee-jerk, unquestioningly, align myself with the entire Republican platform?

That's the part I don't get.

For example: why is it that evangelical Christians, in general, are rabidly opposed to “Obamacare”? Because the American health care system is working perfectly and needs no improvement?² Because the church is about to open a vast network of free clinics and hospitals and alleviate the problem themselves? Is there some Biblical principal I've missed that says those with means have a right to excellent healthcare while the unemployed are out of luck? Or is it because Christians are supposed to be Republicans and therefore opposed to anything proposed by the Democrats? I keep coming back to Proverbs 29:7:

The righteous is concerned for the rights of the poor, the wicked does not understand such concern.

And how about welfare? The “Christian Right” isn't saying “The government should get out of the business of taking care of the poor because the church is doing such a great job of it that it's not necessary”. They're saying things like “the poor should get off their butts and quit expecting a hand-out”. Is that a principal Jesus taught somewhere in some obscure corner of the Bible? Isn't Jesus the guy who told the rich man in Matthew 19 “If you wish to be complete, go and sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven”?

Where on earth did Churchians get the idea that Jesus is a conservative?

Now, understand me—I'm no fan of hand-outs. Just ask my kids. As a matter of fact, I am a pretty big fan of the verse that says “if anyone is not willing to work, then he is not to eat, either.”³ I like to pick that one out and quote it, but Jesus? He's a lot more compassionate than I am. He seems to be pretty concerned about things like taking care of widows and orphans (or how about the modern American equivalent: single moms and foster kids?). And let's go there: the Acts church were basically communists⁴.

So Christians should be Democrats?

Personally, I find enough to disagree with in both major parties' platforms that I'm registered as an independent⁵. If you've checked out the party platform and feel like identifying with the Republican party, then OK—be a Republican. But please: don't be a Republican because you've been taught that's what Churchians are supposed to be.

And please...think about the message you're sending through your bumper stickers and social media rhetoric. Is spouting an opinion really worth confirming the commonly-held belief that Christians are a bunch of uncaring jerks?

1. And, yes...it's a big issue. Huge.

2. If you think that is the case, you probably have a government job that provides your family with excellent, secure, high-cost-to-the-taxpayers coverage.

3. 2 Thessalonians 3:10, NASB

4. Acts 2:44-45 (NASB) And all those who had believed were together and had all things in common; and they began selling their property and possessions and were sharing them with all, as anyone might have need. 

5. Plus, I'm kind of a non-joiner. I admit to being a little rebellious like that.

Occupy...Church?

Unless you live in a cave, you are probably aware of the Occupy Wall Street protests that are currently spreading around the United States. You may not be clear on exactly what the goal of the protests is, however—not surprising, since many of the protesters seem a little fuzzy on that themselves. They seem to have a general sense of discontentment with the status quo. They know something is wrong with "the system" (and it's hard to argue that point), but lack a clear plan for how to fix it. Without a clear goal, some of them have defaulted to blocking streets, taking over public spaces, and holding up signs with naughty language on them...

Protesting for the sake of protest

It's an uncomfortably familiar phenomenon.  I admit it: I am in rebellion against church-as-we-know-it. For years, I've had a general sense of discontentment with our Sunday morning status quo, along with the feeling that something is wrong with our church system. What's been missing, though, is a clear sense of WHAT is wrong, let alone how it could be fixed.

To some extent, I've become like the Occupy protesters:

Vaguely discontent, sometimes angry, identifying a few key issues, but sometimes—I'll admit it—rebelling for the sake of rebellion. Rebelling because I wanted to distance myself from some of the things the church has said and done over the years. Rebelling because I got tired of pretending everything was fine. In some ways, I overcorrected.

When I began to realize that some of the things I've believed and embraced—things that have been part of my identity—might not have been 100% correct, the temptation was to throw it all out. Turn my back on "the system", pitch tents in the park, and paint naughty words on my protest signs.

Is it wrong to protest?

It's uncomfortable—even more for the protester than the protestee—and it can certainly be done the wrong way. But just because something is uncomfortable or inflammatory or rebellious doesn't mean it's wrong. Just about any important social change in our history was brought about by those who were considered troublemakers, pot-stirrers, inflammatory.

However:

It's important for those who protest to stay on-message and avoid cynicism

To do otherwise is to risk losing the message altogether. This blog is my attempt to sort out my thoughts in a constructive way. To articulate the reasons behind the discontentment while searching for solutions. To be honest and real in a way that the church doesn't always encourage.

I don't expect my thoughts to turn the Titanic

It's too big of a job for me.  I'm just sorting things out for myself, and sharing them in the hope that they'll help someone else begin their own sorting process.

Are you in the sorting process?  Do you think I'm crazy?  Overly dramatic?  Heretical?  Your comments are welcome!

Why do I like the rules so much?

Why do so many people find Churchian rules so attractive? The Bible tells us things like:

It was for freedom that Christ set us free; therefore keep standing firm and do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery.¹

Wait, what? Why did Jesus set us free? So that we would be free? Yes. He didn't have ulterior motives. He didn't set us free so that we could build our own prison. He set us free because He wanted us to be free.

You were bought with a price; do not become slaves of men.²

But that's just what we do. We church people just don't know what to do with the freedom that Jesus gave us. It's uncomfortable, maybe. All that freedom is a little scary. So we create our own rules. Why? Maybe because

It gives us a comforting sense of superiority.

Ouch. This one could be just me, but in my life as a Churchian I admit that I have often felt like I was better than other people because I adhered to certain man-made rules. I still find it hard to believe that I don't have to DO anything to convince Jesus to accept me. I mean, I know He said that He's got this, but I feel like I should help Him out a little. Otherwise, He might change His mind. Being a good Churchian made me feel just enough better than people in “the world” that I could reassure myself that I really was good enough for Jesus. And yes, that sounds as crazy to me as it does to you.

And you know what else?

Following rules is easier.

In setting us free from our natures, ourselves, and the Old Testament laws, Jesus gave us a lot of freedom. And with that freedom, He gave us a lot of responsibility. I don't know about you, but for me, following clearly-defined rules is a lot easier than figuring out what God is asking of me, myself, today. Seeking God's actual will for me is kind of hard. In comparison, being a Churchian—with its clear boundaries and people who'll be happy to tell me what to do—is just easier. But if I'm going to be an authentic Christian, I have to be willing to get to know Jesus for myself and find out what He wants from me. Even though throwing out the Rules of Churchianity and relying only on God feels a little like jumping off a cliff.

1. Galatians 5:1 (NASB)

2. 1 Corinthians 7: 23 (NASB)

The Noise of Churchianity

Want to know what I'm really tired of?   I'm tired of accepting a sermon or the latest Christian bestseller or a really thought-provoking blog post as a substitute for God's voice.  Yes, God speaks through those things.  For me, though, it gets to be hard to hear what he's saying to me when I'm always being told what he's saying to some preacher or author or songwriter.

So, preachers and authors are useless?

Of course not.  In fact, I am married to a preacher, and I definitely want you to listen to what he has to say.  I've become convinced, though, that God has things to say to me.  Wow—GOD has things to say to me.  And as much as he does speak through preachers and authors, I think he wants to say some of it directly to me, without a filter.   As a life-long Churchian, I have a hard time hearing the actual voice of God.   I try, but He sounds a lot like my childhood pastor, or the author of the study notes in my Bible, or the guy who wrote the song we sang last Sunday morning.

I'm currently working on removing my filter¹.  When I bought a new Bible last year, way before I'd started to articulate the thoughts I'm recording now, I purposely chose one without study notes.   I recognized even then that the notes often distracted me from the actual Word of God.   Want to hear something really unChurchian?  For the time being, I've also, for the most part, stopped listening to Christian music and reading Christian books², because the noise of all of it has been drowning out the actual voice of God.

I just heard a gasp.

Oh, but I'm not done yet.  I've also abandoned Bible reading plans².  Having a good Churchian upbringing, I learned that keeping up with your “devotions” (usually defined as a daily time of focused Bible-reading, preferably early in the morning) is a super-important measure of how good of a Christian you are.  It's hardly surprising, then, that reading the Bible became little more than a way for me to check off a box, literally or figuratively, and reassure myself that I was a good Christian.

Well, guess what?   That's not why God gave us the Bible.   God gave us His Word so that we could get to know Him.  When I read the Bible now³, I read it for information about God.  For instruction from Him.   For de-programming from my Churchian mindset.   When I read the Bible, I do my best to shut out the Churchian noise and listen to what God actually has to say.  To get to know who He really is.

Nothing in my Churchian background prepared me for the fact that throwing out my Bible-reading plan and devotional guides would increase both the quantity and quality of my Bible-reading and deepen my understanding of who God is⁴.  Amazing.

¹Not removing all instruction and guidance—as this one preacher sometimes says, don't hear what I'm not saying.

²Again—don't hear what I'm not saying. These aren't bad things, and I'm not giving them up forever, or telling you to give them up.

³Yes, I do read it. Did I just hear a small sigh of relief?

⁴Your mileage may vary. Keep in mind that I'm writing about my own experiences, not telling you what to do.

So, what's wrong with the rules?

What is wrong with Churchian rules?  Most of them are not bad things—don't drink, don't smoke, don't swear, go to church...not bad rules to follow, right?  So what's the problem with the rules?

I'm glad you asked.

One problem with the rules is that we Churchians tend to substitute following them for a real relationship with God.  I, personally, am sick to death of accepting church as a substitute for serving God (what, those two aren't synonymous?).   I know how to keep busy doing the right churchie things and saying the right churchie words, and it's easy to lose sight of what the point of it all is.  And as long as I stand up, sit down, raise my hands and praise the Lord at the appropriate times, I can look, even to myself, like I am serving God.

And since I feel like I'm doing everything right, there's no need to look deeper and find out what God is actually asking of me.

Somehow, keeping busy following the rules and being a good Churchian actually gets in the way of my relationship with God.   Weird.

So, now what?

Am I supposed to abandon all of the rules?   I don't know.   Some of them have become super-sensitive issues to church people, and as a pastor's wife, I have to care at least a little what church people think.  Right?  Right?

And yet...following some of these rules has started to feel hypocritical.   I feel like I'm endorsing the idea of creating rules that Jesus didn't create.    Reinforcing to those who are new to Christianity that following the rules is what it's all about.   For that matter, reinforcing to long-time Churchians like myself that following the rules is what it's all about.

At the moment I have more questions than answers, but I've decided to concentrate more on following Jesus than on following the rules.

The faith which you have, have as your own conviction before God.  Happy is he who does not condemn himself in what he approves.  Romans 14:22 (NASB)

THE TWELVE STEPS OF CHURCHIANS ANONYMOUS*

1. I admitted I was powerless over the wrong thinking of Churchianity—that my life had become meaningless.

2. I came to believe that a Power greater than myself could deliver me from Churchianity and restore me to Christianity.

3. I made a decision to turn my will and my life over to the care of God, and to seek to understood Him as He truly is.

4. I made a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself and my Churchian thinking and actions.

5. I admitted to God, to myself, and to another human being the exact nature of my wrongs.

6. I work to become entirely ready to have God remove all these defects in my Christianity.

7. I humbly asked Him to remove my shortcomings.

8. I made a list of all persons I had harmed by elevating the church over Christ, and became willing to make amends to them all.

9. I made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

10. I continue to take personal inventory and when I was wrong promptly admitted it.

11. I seek through prayer and meditation to improve my conscious contact with God, praying for knowledge of His will and the power to carry that out.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, I tried to carry this message to other Churchians, and to elevate Christ over the church in all my affairs.

*Adapted from The Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous, Copyright # A.A. World Services, Inc. Rev.5/9/02

Hi. I'm Christa, and I'm a Churchian.

What's a Churchian? The Urban Dictionary defines Churchian as

“A religious person whose faith revolves around adhering to rules and traditions of organized religions -- namely, institutional versions of Christianity -- rather than around the concepts...that the religion actually teaches.”

For too many years, that's been me. In my mind, “the church” was synonymous with “Christianity”. I was a super good Churchian, and therefore thought that I was a pretty good Christian¹. I was really good at things like going to church and following the rules. I followed all of the rules—the ones God made, and the ones people made. I even read the Bible sometimes. I internalized parts of it, like

“Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of God our Father is this: that you go to church twice a week, do not drink, do not smoke, and do not listen to secular music.”

and

“By this all men will know you are My disciples, if you use clean language.”

Just kidding. Those aren't in the Bible². Churchians, though, have made a lot of rules that Jesus never made (remember, I know so much about Churchians because I AM ONE). And not only have we made up rules, but we've attributed them to Jesus. And not only have we made up rules and attributed them to Jesus, but we've often elevated our made-up rules above the things Jesus actually did ask us to do. Whoa. I, personally, have internalized so many Churchian rules and concepts that I feel like I need a 12-Step Program to recover from Churchianity and become the Christian that Jesus wants me to be.

Here's something I've been pondering: if it was possible to read the New Testament³ with absolutely no preconceptions (imagine that you know nothing at all about God, Jesus, the Bible, or church—maybe you're an alien), and you could read it with no one telling you which parts to read or interpreting it for you, what conclusions would you draw about the #1 things Jesus wants from you? Would you conclude, as in my fake Bible verse above, that the most important thing is to go to church and avoid alcohol and tobacco? Probably not.

Would you, maybe, conclude that he wants you to know that He loves you, even if you're not a good Churchian? Or that He wants you to love the people around you—including those who don't follow the Churchian rules? Maybe even that he wants you to love those who don't follow the rules that He actually did make?

Maybe you'd conclude that people are more important than rules.

¹It's trendy right now to use the term “Christ-follower”, but since that's what the word Christian means, I'm sticking with that.

²For the real Bible references, click here and here.

³The part of the Bible that records what Jesus did and taught, for any non-Churchians who may be reading.