Tag: religion

Church Lab- Sample B

More in the continuing saga of my Lenten pilgriming…

I chose the second church I visited by accident. I thought I was choosing a Missouri Synod Lutheran church, but I got stuck in Google quicksand. In my zeal to learn as much as I could about the different denominations and churches, I got a little mixed up. I ended up choosing another Evangelical Lutheran Church of America. It was okay, though. I chose a Saturday evening contemporary service in The Villages. The service was a much different experience than the traditional Sunday morning service I experienced in my town the prior week.

To provide some context, I need to explain a little about The Villages. I have mentioned this place in past blogs. The Villages are a weird, almost supernatural phenomenon. It is the housing development that took over the world. It is a mammoth senior independent living facility of over thirty-two square miles. The population is over 80.000 people. The heart of The Villages is a system of residential neighborhoods for people over fifty-five, augmented by health care facilities, restaurants, bars (lots of bars), major shopping areas, entertainment venues, and every service a person could ever need. There are social and activity clubs to serve people of every interest- including being majorettes. Yes, I have seen them practicing in full regalia in the Target parking lot. You can access any place within The Villages by golf cart. Their road system involves a great many traffic circles. I have always thought that was an odd urban planning choice for a community intended for people who, by definition, have probably lost a lot of peripheral vision.

The Villages is the fastest growing city in the United States. They brand themselves as “America’s Hometown.” The way they are expanding, they might have to broaden the term beyond “America’s.”  We live about fifteen miles from the heart of The Villages, although that distance is shrinking as the town seeps ever southward. The Villages pretend they are a city unto themselves. In reality, their property spans across at least four different cities in three different counties.

This brings me to Sample B of my Church Lab experiment. I am not sure you would describe the church I attended in The Villages as a mega church, but it certainly seemed that way to me. I spent most of my church years in Roman Catholic churches, so I am familiar with large service attendance. However, after nearly eight years at my small Episcopal church, I am now more accustomed to moderate congregations of 100-150 people. The church I attended in The Villages pushed me out of that paradigm, for sure. This church has three separate campuses and a membership of over 4,000 people. They hold seven services each weekend. There had to be around four hundred people at the service I attended.

This service was much more casual. The minister wore a purple polo shirt and black pants. There was not a clerical collar or vestment to be seen. The hallmark of the service was singing. There was little spoken prayer, especially communal spoken prayer. When I entered the enveloping worship space, I asked an usher for a program or Order of Worship. He looked confused and said I should just follow along with the video screens. There were two MASSIVE screens hanging from the ceiling. As the service progressed, I saw why programs were not necessary. Mostly, the service involved just following the bouncing ball to sing worship songs along with the small, but powerful choir. The singing, for me, was rather restful, focusing, and meditative. I am not sure if that was the vibe they were going for, but it worked for me. I did miss the communal recitation of spoken prayer, though.

The minister preached a helpful sermon. The communion process was beautiful. Both the sermon and communion were similar to my church, with just a snippet more of a modern flair. I loved the communion distribution. Each communion station had a large one-piece ceramic vessel- a plate of hosts surrounding a cup of wine molded into the center. As I write about it, I can’t help thinking you will all visualize a chip and dip plate, which seems very irreverent. It did not strike me like that at the time. I guess there was a functional similarity between the communion vessel and a chip and dip plate, but the communion vessel was so much more elegant and transcendent. Don’t ask me how it was elegant and transcendent. It was just a vibe.

Because there were so many people, I had plenty of time to look around at the congregation. Something occurred to me that I would normally never notice. It still seems odd to me that it even registered to me. As a white, middle-class woman, I typically don’t have to notice stuff like this. People who look like me are usually in the majority. However, when I looked around the congregation at The Villages church, all I saw were people who all fit in one particular dynamic. Every single person was white. At the age of almost sixty-five, I was the youngest person there except for a couple of the singers. Knowing what I know of The Villages, I am pretty sure all the worshippers fell into an upper middle class economic status. I doubt there was anyone there who was very rich. I doubt there was anyone there who was poor or even lower middle class.

My own church is fairly homogenous. However, I have seen a shift in the eight years or so I have been attending. Younger people are popping in- at our recent Alpha program, we had 8 or 10 young men who showed up regularly. I see faces of color in the congregation. We have members with generational ties to my town and to my church. We have people who have only recently moved to the area. We have very wealthy people, and we have people who have to decide whether to pay the electric bill or the car insurance each month. Our congregation is becoming a blended family. It is a rich environment. It enriches me to be part of it.

As I was sitting in my car after the service… waiting for the parking lot to clear out… I was praying and meditating. Facebook recently decided that Proverbs 3:5-6 “Trust in God with all your heart, and don’t lean on your own understand. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will direct your paths” is my very own Bible passage. If Facebook says it, it must be true, so I decided to contemplate that message. Considering that this Lent was a season of discovery for me… a season to look for where God wanted me to serve… Facebook did a pretty good job.

Something happened at that point. Now, I am not a mystical kind of person. I am intuitive, but I am also very, very practical. If I have a feeling or an impulse, I analyze it to shreds to figure out from whence it came. I tend to think that this “feeling” or “impulse” or “intuition” is the result of me observing and analyzing information so automatically that I don’t even realize I am doing it. That may be what happened in the parking lot at The Villages church. It may be that I simply wanted to see something to give me a direction. Or it may be that I had a bona fide vision. Whatever it was, it was powerful and compelling.

As I sat quietly in my car with my eyes closed thinking about Proverbs 3:5-6, I suddenly had an undeniable picture of what my church could be like. I know it was my church because I saw people I know sitting in the pews. I should say “sitting in the stands” because it was such a large space- almost an arena. They were people the people that I have noticed coming into our congregation in the past several years- the younger ones, the newly moved to the area, the non-Caucasian faces, those who struggle financially, brothers and sisters with varied backgrounds. I am close to these people. I can’t say they came to my church because I was there or because I invited them. I have come to know them since they started attending my church. God seemed to be telling me, though, that these people were there and thriving in their spiritual lives partly because of me… that I had behaved in a way towards them that reflected God’s love and acceptance. My initial takeaway was that God was showing me that I have had value in supporting His work in my current congregation.

The next takeaway might reflect the work that He still has for me to do where I am. I had such a sense that what I was seeing behind my eyelids was God’s vision for my church. God wants it to continue to grow in love and grace and fellowship. He wants it to be a haven for everyone who is searching for Him, in any way. He wants me to have a part in preserving the beauty I have seen grow in my congregation while also expanding to include some of the benefits of a large church. When you have a ton of people come to your church and contribute, it is easier and more efficient to use resources. You can usually offer more programs and ministries. You can hire more staff for pastoral care. You can reach out more to the community.

The “God’s vision” I saw was extraordinary. It was exciting. I don’t know if we will get there in my lifetime. That is up to God. I don’t know if we will ever get there at all. That is up to the people to strive for His vision. All I know is that God has something on the horizon for my church and for me. I guess I will stick around for a while.

Do you think I had a mystical vision? Or something more prosaic? Do you think it matters if it was a message directly from God or something I just made up out of my own little brain? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.

Have a visionary day!

Terri/Dorry😊

A Crisis of Church

I think I may be gearing up to make another major life change. 

I don’t think I am having a crisis of faith.  I think I believe what I’ve always believed.  I believe the Bible is truth, although it may or may not be always factual.  After all, wasn’t Jesus often inclined to use stories to teach His truths? I believe in one God, in three forms- Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  I believe that I am a child of God and that I live within the grace of His embrace.  I believe that Jesus is my Savior.  I am committed, with the strength of the Holy Spirit, to living in a way that glorifies God and demonstrates the love of Christ.  I believe I am called to live an ordinary life with extraordinary love, in the name of Jesus. I believe that, in addition to my Christian obligation to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, the secret to being my happiest, most authentic self is to model faith, hope, and love in all I do.  I believe I have often failed to live in such a way and that I will continue to fail.  I also believe that God always forgives me, because He loves me just that much.  I believe He will use all things, including my failures, to teach and strengthen me so that I may be ever better. 

So the problem isn’t really faith.  I would say it is more that I am having a crisis of church.   

I grew up Catholic.  For most of my life, I believed I would always be Catholic. The Catholic Church felt like home for my faith.  Over the past several years, my certainty that I would always be Catholic has faded.  There have been several times when my connection with Catholicism has cracked and worn very thin.  

During the priest sex abuse scandals, my loyalty wavered, almost to the point of disintegration.  In my own life, I had a connection with three different priests accused of molesting children. By their own admission many years after the fact, these men were guilty of sexual behavior that harmed children.   It was difficult to continue to believe in the goodness of my chosen church at that time.  Still, I reasoned that it might be throwing the baby out with the bathwater to leave the church over the actions of some priests and church administrators.  It also felt somehow disloyal to consider leaving my church home in its darkest days.  I knew many good, brave priests who worked hard, despite public vilification, to shepherd their people through hard times.  I reasoned that, regardless of what some individuals had done, my faith still felt fed by the liturgies and sacraments and fellowship in my parish.   

Then, a daughter of one of my best friends was getting married.  The family was Catholic. The daughter and her fiancé went to the required pre-marital counseling with a priest at their home parish. The pre-marital counseling basically consisted of the priest advising them not to marry…. solely because the parents of the fiancé were divorced.  Instead of just advising them of the possible pitfalls, helping them develop tools to create a strong marriage, and celebrating their love, the Church- in the person of this priest- discouraged the couple… from Catholicism.  The couple married outside the church.  They have now been happily married for almost ten years and have two beautiful children.  This experience bothered me, but, again, I thought of it as the actions of a particular priest and not necessarily a reflection on the policy of the larger Catholic Church. 

I began to feel even more disconnected from the Catholic Church when I found that, more and more often, preaching about social justice issues became preaching about political issues. I understand that how we behave and what we do to help others are vital issues for Christians.  I also understand, after spending a lot of time in thought, study, and prayer, that social justice and moral issues are rarely as definitive as we would like them to be.  When we act, the consequences of our actions are often wide-reaching and unexpected, in both positive and negative ways.  Moral dilemmas are called moral dilemmas because they are complicated.  I began to feel that the Church was ignoring the complications and preaching societal mandates with no consideration of the various layers of implication and how to address them.  First of all, men must change before kings must change so I’m not sure that preaching for political agendas is what Christ had in mind.  Secondly, it felt like preachers were implying that the Christianity of anyone who felt differently must be suspect.  I think a good preacher can and should challenge a Christian to ask herself if she is living as Christ would have her live, but not presume to know exactly what that life should look like.   

When we were getting ready to move, I thought it might be a good time to consider other Christian denominations instead of registering at the Catholic parish in my new town.  I did some research on the internet, but my gut objected rather strenuously.  When we moved, I did start going to the Catholic church and felt happy with that decision.  I felt fed there. The Catholic church provided me a sense of stability and home that comforted me as I navigated all the changes in my new life. 

Last Sunday, something else happened… probably the “something” that is going to send me looking for another church.  The priest started his homily by telling the congregation that he recently received an invitation to a family member’s wedding, but was adamant that he would not be going because the couple in question were both women.  I don’t think my reaction was spurred so much by the fact that the priest believed that homosexual behavior is outside God’s law.  I think a reasonable, prayerful Christian could legitimately deduce that gay marriage is morally wrong.   Personally, I see the scriptural concern with it but also think we might need to explore the issue from a wider perspective.  I think we might need to consider other scholarly interpretations.  I also think that just proclaiming homosexuality wrong does not fulfill our duty.  Even if we believe that the Church cannot legitimately bless a gay marriage, does that mean that we must deny compassion to approximately 10% of God’s family?  Are there other options, outside of proclaiming gay marriage to be scripturally acceptable, that would allow civil and legal rights for partners who are not sacramentally married?   My biggest problem with the homilist was that he was so certain that his position was correct and, however limited, sufficient. Certain to the point of smugness, it seemed to me.  Not only was he telling the congregation what his position was, he was telling us that his position represented the only truly acceptable position for a good Christian.   

You could argue that all of these incidents represented the behavior of some human beings within the Church and do not necessarily reflect the totality of the faith.  You would be right.  Also, none of these incidents except the clergy sex abuse scandals are really big deals in and of themselves.  The thing is, I always believe people should attend Christian worship services to help lift up their souls.  Even when I was working in the church initiation program for people thinking about becoming Catholic, I told them, “You should go where your soul feels fed.”  All I know is, in that moment when the homilist started rolling his eyes about the invitation he received to his family member’s wedding, I felt fed up instead of fed.  

Now the journey begins.  I don’t know if I will find the spiritual nourishment that I crave in another Christian denomination, if I will eventually find my way back to the familiar Church that has been home all my life, or if I will go my own way for a time.  I only know that God will lead me and that I will be listening for His call.  

Have any of you moved on from the church of your childhood?  What drove that decision for you and how has the change worked for you?  Please share your perspective by leaving a comment.  In the alternative, you can send me an email at terriretirement@gmail.com.

Have a  blessed day!

Terri 🙂