In This Together

We are in this together.

I am filled with this thought, right now: we are in this together.

We are suffering, and addicted, and sad and lonely.  But we are in this together.

I have been noticing, recently, how the people in the church reach out to those in the world around them.  We give these terrible lists of the things that must be done.  We make these promises of the things that will happen.  This morning, I saw this message that was well meaning… loving, in its own way.

It was aimed at addicts.  And it told the person reading– the addict– that the way past their addiction was to stop making excuses.  It instructed to deny fleshly desires.  It promised God’s power.

Is all this true?  It is true: true for people easily seen for addicts.  And it is true for me, who does not suffer from alcoholism, gambling addictions, or anything so easily categorized.  And it is true for the person who relayed the message on social media.  And it is true for the pastor he was quoting.  Surely, we all need to do these things.

But I suspect all of us already know this.  I am less sure that we know things that are more urgent, more necessary before we can get better, before we can get closer to God:

We are in this together.

The person in the church and out of it: we are in this together.

The person with the named addiction and the person with out one: we are in this together.

The person who made the updates and I: we are in this in together.

The body of believers with the polished performances and amazing light show, the body of believers with the single guy singing his heart out; the people with the lists and the promises, the cut and dried truths and the the body of believers who can’t, don’t or won’t see things so simply…

We are in this together.





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The stories that speak to our soul begin at a home where things are good. Cinderella is happy with her father. The three little pigs have grown up and are ready to move on. Bilbo Baggins knows his shire. Adam and Eve walk with God in the garden. My story isn’t much different. There was a time and a place where it was so good. There was a community for me. And there was joy. We were filled with a sincere desire to do what God wanted us to do. We possessed explanations and understandings that went a certain distance. We offered security and tradition and laughter. For a lot of years, that was enough. I have this sense that it was also necessary. I have this surety, now, that it certainly wasn’t everything. There were some things that became increasingly problematic as time went by. There was a desire to package things up so very neatly. Sunday morning services were efficient and strategic. Responses to differences of opinion were premeditated. Formula began to feel more important than being real. A real desire for everybody to be one of us, but also a real sense that there is an us, and there is a them. They carried a regret that it has to be this way, but deeper than this regret was a surety that this is how it is. I began to recognize that there was a cost of admission to that group. There were people who sat at the door, collecting it. Those people wished they didn’t have to. But I guess they felt like they did have to. They let some people in, and they left others out. There was a provisional membership. My friends did possess a desire to accommodate people that are different… But it would be best for everyone concerned if they were only a little bit different. I did make many steps forward in this place. Before I went there, there were lies that I believed. Some of the things that I learned there, I still hold on to. But that place is not my home anymore. Those people are not my community anymore. There were times it was hard. I am engaged in a different community now. And I am working hard at finding a place in many different places now, embracing many different kind of families. I don’t always get it right. I am trying and I am learning and I am moving foreward. I have this sense that I am not alone in these experiences. I believe that we are tribe and we are growing. We are pilgrims, looking for a new holy land. Perhaps we won’t settle on the same spot of land. But if you’ve read this far, I am thinking that we are probably headed in the same general direction. I have begun this blog to talk about where my journey is taking me. In every space, we find people who help us along. And maybe we can get to know each other, here. We embrace ideas that provide a structure for the things we believe, and perhaps we can share these too. Maybe we can form a group, a tribe, a community, if we can figure out a way to work through the shadow of these kinds of groups, if we can bigger than the us-and-them ideas that have caused so much trouble in the past. As important as they are, I think the very nature of online interactions will lend itself to something equally powerful. I am stumbling onto these practices that my grandfathers and great grandfathers in the faith engaged in. I am learning about these attitudes and intuitions are so different than the kinds of things we call doctrine today. I don’t know about you, but I am running out of patience, and even interest, in conversations about doctrine. I hope that maybe you’ll share a little something about where your journey is taking you, and maybe our common joys and challenges might help each other along, and we might lift each other up. Thanks for doing this journey with me.

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