Why I go to Church

Today my pastor issued a sermon challenge.  This isn't uncommon, in fact, it's a bit of his trademark thing.  Every pastor has a thing, you know.  We went to one church where the pastor's thing was pounding the bible emphatically and yet another where the pastor's thing was to sit in a bar-height chair and talk to the congregation like we were all at his backyard barbeque.  As things go, the sermon challenge is less affected than some other things I've seen.  And it's nice, to have someone say "take what
I've talked about today and go apply it."   Maybe I miss homework...

I digress.  Our sermon today was... about a lot of things.  But in it, the pastor addressed a blog that's going around.  Mostly, he answered the points on the blog, gauging and assessing our position as a congregation.  If you're interested, you can get the sermon here.  If, in fact, you are at all interested in what kind of church a person like me attends, it's not a bad information packet about Celebration.

Anyway... Wow... Point already,  at the end, he asked us to list our reasons why we come to Church.  And encouraged us to post them on the church facebook.  I was cool with the challenge.  I've been trying to write a blog post for ages (I have about 15 unposted drafts, I just am not digging my voice lately).  I figured, this will be easy.  I'll go type up 20 reasons and be like "Bam, said the lady!"

But it wasn't easy.  It wasn't even something I could do.

I spent a lot of time thinking about it.  Reflecting.  I'm getting good at containing my personal dialogue inside my head.  I don't even move my lips anymore.  I spent time in the store, picking up beer for tonight's soiree. I thought while driving.  I thought while making lunch for the fam.  I did a lot of thinking.  And while I could just go through and personally refute each of Ms. Evans bullet points with my own personal experience, and be done, it wouldn't really be true.  Because it is for none of those reasons I would say I go to church.

The truth is there are more reasons for me not to go to church than to go to church.

I'm in a rocky relationship with God right now.  It's not him.  It's me.  but sometimes, the last thing in the world I feel like doing is getting up early on a Sunday and trekking my ass 20 miles across town to go to church for less than an hour.  The ironic thing is, some Sundays, when I'm backing up vocals in the Worship group, and I'm gonna be there for 3 hours, I feel even less inclined to go.  I'm tired.  I'm really tired right now, and there isn't anything physically restorative about going to church.  I don't even always feel like I had any kind of spiritual place was reached.  Because, right now, I'm feeling a bit spiritually castrated. 

Church is the place I've been most hurt by others.  People don't do it on purpose.  But sometimes, someone says or does something and it's like a lance.  The truth is, I believe, we're more apt to be emotionally wounded by church people, than by others because, those people are supposed to be held to a higher standard, right?  A God Standard?  The thing is, they are just people.  They don't get up in the morning and be like, "Today, I shall make Robyn feel like the most insignificant thing on this planet."  It just happens.   And I'm not saying it's happened at my current church.  I'm not saying it hasn't, but I'm 36 years old... Wait, I don't actually know how old I am, give me a second to get the calculator.  I'm 35 years old, and I've been in a lot of churches.  It's happened.  I'd hazard a guess that every single person in my current church is carrying an emotional scar from a former church (And it may be one reason I'm in _this_ church).

Also, the church isn't God.  I could go there every single day, and still never feel like I was closer to God.  What I do in those 4 walls doesn't define my life as a Christ-follower or a Devotee of God.  Church isn't the only place that God can see me.  God sees me in the shower.  It's a horrific thought, but true.  God sees me in my most inconsequential moments.  He doesn't just see me, he sees right through me.  And I could have a relationship with God without the Church or the church.  It isn't actually a requirement.

Even more so, Church in America is getting a pretty bad rap, and I don't really want to be associated with some of those people.  It's like an exercise in how many ways can I be outraged by people's comments supporting bigotry, hatred and oppression.  Sometimes I'm ashamed to admit I go to church at all, for fear I be lumped in with people like Rick Santorum.

So, why do I bother to go?  Why do I get up some Sundays at 6 am, so I can be there at 8?  Why do I drag my fat ass out of bed, bitching and complaining constantly about being roused from the rare snatches of blissful rest afforded in my hectic and overly scheduled life, to go someplace I don't always want to be?

Is it the people?  Sometimes.  But the truth is, I don't know over half the congregation, and that's pretty weird, since we have like 100 people.  But it's not weird.  Might surprise people here to know, but I'm not a very social butterfly.  I'm a very social caterpillar.  Inside a cocoon of a few people I've gotten to know, I'm comfortable.  I'd even have to honestly admit that even though I work in two of the ministry groups and I signed the Charter of the Church, I'm not even always comfortable calling myself a member.  Because I do not honestly know the majority of the people there.  That's a me thing, too.  I'm just not that girl who is all about casual conversation with people.  I'm weird.  I get to know people differently.  My best friend exists about 95% on the internet.   It's not not the people (ooo, double negative, what will Mandi say?)  Don't get me wrong.  The people are really great, kind, sweet, accepting, funny, genuine (buzz word) , reasonable, caring people.  I just wouldn't say I know them.  At the same time, the family of my heart does attend this church, and is why I came to this church, but that's not the reason I was all for going to a church.

It's not the denomination.  The good Lord knows, I will never be comfortable calling myself a Lutheran.  Although, I like a lot of what they say, and I'm solidly protestant, I've been to too many churches and have a scattered and conglomerated personal dogma.  I'm a Luthermethobapticostal.  It's the new super denomination.  We have kolaches.

Is it the sermon?  I dunno.  The pastor is genuine (there's that word again)  about his message.  I never feel condemned.  It's always pretty solid.  But sometimes, I don't pay attention.  It's not him, it's me.  Adult ADD does that to a person.  Sometimes, I look up and wonder why the hell we have strobe lights on the ceiling.  And then shuttle think all over the place, and come back when he's giving a benediction.  I've missed the sermon entirely and I'm like "oops, my bad."  So it can't possibly be the reason I go...

Is it that I said I would do things?  I teach Sunday school.  I back up vocals on the music team.  I committed to these things.  Not really.  I could honestly walk away from either at any moment, on account of being non-integral and part of a redundancy system.  Those things aren't the reason I go.  I do those things because I do go.

So why?  WHY would I go to church on Sundays?  Why would I go at all?  And why especially would I travel 20 miles one way to go to a church?  Who is that crazy?

Maybe that's the answer, come to think of it.  Maybe I am a little crazy.

Especially in this day and age, with an outright shameful public face of Christianity in America.  Maybe I'm insane to want to go to church.  Because, let's face it, the PR the church is getting lately, with the judging and the persecuting and the general embarrassing statements and behavior, sure don't make me proud to stand up and say "I'm a Christian!" 

I don't think that's it.  I don't think my slight crazy is why I go.

And I also, getting to my overall point (I meander.  It's what I do.), don't think I need 15 reasons.  I don't need 10, I don't even need five. 

I have hope.  I don't have the best relationship with God right now.  But I have hope, that I'm gonna heal and I'm gonna be able to be who he wants me to be.  I don't have great relationships with , or awesome connection to everything.  I am not whole and unwounded.  but I have hope that all of these things aren't what really matter.

I have faith that I'm doing the best I can with what I have.  I have faith that God doesn't care if I'm getting it all right all of the time, because he does see through me.  I have faith that I am supposed to be God's hands, and when I remember to empty myself of me, my faith can shine.

I have love.  Even if I'm not the best Christian in the world right now, even though I'm mired in sin and selfishness, I love God.  And Jesus, and Love is about the most important thing you can have.

God sent his son who preached a Radical Gospel of LOVE.  Christ tore the temple asunder, and rebuilt one, based on the tenets of love, faith and hope.

And I go to church because I want God to reach out through me.  By working in me, a little at a time, even, by my ritual of showing up, I'm saying "use me, Lord, to staunch the flow of Rapid Hope Loss in my world.  Starting with me and moving out, like ocean waves."   Because I can't say anything in a simple manner, that's just not how I'm wired.

That's why I go.  Three tiny little reasons.  Probably insignificant when viewed alone, but epically proportioned to be the only 3 reasons I need.


I'm not going to post this to my church's facebook.  Because, that would just be silly.  They would be like "Who the hell does she think she is?  He said 15 reasons, not 15 pages of semi-stream-of-conscience bs"  Or, you know, maybe they would be like "Oh, yeah, you know, maybe those are the only reasons I need."


either way, I'm gonna post this, before I chicken-shit out and send it to drafts with all my recent political postings on being a woman in today's society.  Maybe if more people focused on Hope and Love, being a woman in America wouldn't feel so craptastic.  Maybe if more people focused on Love, it would be easier to be a human.




I'll leave you with a mild political statement... I got it from Mandi's facebook.

I may have stuttered around a bit, But I'm pretty sure Jesus was clear.  My hope for Rachel Held Evans is she finds a group of people who are a bit more like Jesus than those she's known in church.  My hope for churches is that we all remember to be more like Jesus and less like us.




-robyn












www.Hypersmash.com

A subtle shift in direction. Or Streampunk.

So, Hello glorious viewers!  I like to think of my Blog as the late, late, late, late, late, late show and me as a really awesome girl version of Conan O'Brien melded with Andy Richter.  And topped with Awesome Sauce.  That makes my readers a very discerning group of excellent people.

I was contemplating my life yesterday.  Also known as, I was driving alone in my car.  Three things happen when I drive alone in my car:

• I Sing.  Loudly.  Sometimes with the windows down.  In fact, one day I was belting out "Someone like you" from Jeckyll and Hyde, and I got applause and woots from the car next to me at the stop light.  I'd totally forgotten that I had the back windows cracked.  
• I talk to myself.  I contemplated, once, buying a fake blue tooth device from the dollar store so I'd look less insane, but the crazy eyes are a dead giveaway, so I spent the dollar on something useful.  Like a Mountain Dew or something.  And when I say talk to myself, I mean I run through hypothetical conversations I might be having with people when I see them next.  Or in most cases, I talk out trouble bits of dialogue from the novel I'm currently revising (again).
• I get scary quiet and contemplative.  Are you familiar with the Beuaty and the Beast song about Gaston?  The part where he says he'd been thinking?  And Bafou says "A dangerous pastime."  So true for me.  

So, I was thinking.  I have 3 blogs.  And none of them get the love they deserve, because I have trouble splitting my attention in three different ways.  So, I'm streamlining.  And because I think cupcakes are more adorable than kindergarteners, Saturday Cupcakes is becoming my primary blog.  And I'm retiring Live Journal, for the most part.

I'll be posting about baking and treat making more than anything else right now, because it has become what i do to find my chi.  But I'll also be tossing in bits about my students or even my life in general.  AKA, I'll be streamlining into one blog.  I shall refer to this as Streampunking.

On to the meat of the post.

I didn't make cupcakes on October 29.  Because I had a birthday party, at Chuck E. Cheese.  One of my students was having a birthday ans he was so excited at the idea I would come, so I couldn't say no.  I also couldn't go without a gift.  So I made him a ninja.  You have to understand, this kid is obsessed with ninjas.  Everything he does is "like a ninja" or "ninja style."  And I made it a thing this year to make my kids their birthday presents, because it was expensive as hell buying them last year.  So, I made this:

Who Dat Ninja??

I posed it in the garden.  Because it amused me.  Yes, I did Amigurimi.  And I loved it, so now, I've set aside polymer clay for amigurimi.  I'm currently working on a dragon for the little girl whose birthday is tomorrow.

But the birthday at Chuck E. Cheese (by the way, what an insane place to go), wasn't the end of my Saturday awesomeness on October 29.  No, indeed.  I went to a concert.  Not just any concert, but the concert by which I shall now judge ALL other concerts.

David Cook.

Some people (::cough:: mike ::cough::) might not recognize David Cook for the amazing artist that he is.  I get that people don't love him like I do, but, people, the kid has the most incredible raw power behind his voice.  He has the kind of gravelly but still brilliantly tonal sound that most pop rock stares aspire to and toss in some auto-tune to achieve.  David Cook is AWESOME, okay?  And here is where I sat:

Eight rows back.  Eight rows back from the only worthy thing to ever come from American Idol, imnsho.

The setting was amazing.  And then, David Cook and I became Sexually Involved.  It's true.  TOTAL TRUTH!  I even have a photo of it, which is suprisingly SAFE FOR WORK:

That's his shoulder.  And his guitar.

David Cook, whist walking around the audience, grazed my boob with his shoulder.  Well, okay, his sleeve.  But according to Terry Jo, That's a sexually involved relationship.  And since, at 35, it's the closest I've come to one of those, I'll take the point.

This saturday wasn't really about cupcakes either!

I did spend more money than should be legally allowed at Hobby Lobby.  And I made homemade Kolaches.

  But nothing of any real consequence occurred in my kitchen.

HOWEVER, on Thursday, I spent a day walking the mean streets of the George R. Brown convention center at the International Quilt Festival. 

From the perspective of a non-quilter, I am floored by the amount of crap you can buy there.  And also be the display of talent in the exhibits.  I can't even go into the stuff I saw, because I'm still trying to mentally file it away.  And upload a few photos.  But I did pick up a few projects I'm going to attempt that are likely to find their way into this blog.  At some point.

And now, I really must sign off, since it's Sunday.  And that means I need to prepare for the Sunday Night Beer Tasting Soiree.  But stay tuned for more frequent updates.  And stuff.