Why This Blog?

Most of my mornings begin with Bible and coffee. This blog forces me to slow down, to nail down the text and be precise in my processing and reflections. Admittedly, I'm prejudiced: I think everyone would benefit from beginning their morning with the Word. I was born a Catholic but became a Christian at age 23--not that the two are mutually exclusive but that was my path. Two decades later, my perspective continues to mature--through reading His Word, through His Spirit, through life losses and gains, everyday relationships and the relentless pressures of experience and time. I haven't figured it all out, nor do I expect to. In this world we are given a mere handful of fragments that allude to the greater context of our lives. All the same, they are precious fragments and worthy of our most earnest inquiry. The writings you'll find here usually start with the text then wander. They are not entirely my own. Instead, they are a mix of commentaries I'm pondering, pictures that engage me, and my certainly unpolished musings on this all. Also, I post here for my children. My parents left this world long before expected and left little to bridge the gap of their absence. This blog brings me a measure of certainty in uncertainty---to know that, like Hansel and Gretel, I've done my best to leave a trail of crumbs that lead back home, or at least not further away. I leave the blog public because we are all wandering in some sense, and I count it a privilege to come across other's crumb trails. Sometimes they point me home too.

Away from the Word and the Local Church

I have been away from some parts of my faith.

One part I've been away from is the daily discipline of reading God's Word. After approaching Bible study with tremendous intentionality and expectation for two decades, I've become burned out. Yeah, that's a weird place to be--especially considering how many people do not read their Bibles at all.

I actively began believing Jesus is God in my early 20's. After enduring a Catholic childhood with few functional examples of active faith, God felt distant if not unreal. If I am completely honest with myself, I have not released some of my hestitations in becoming a Christian--or perhaps I released them and found them again.  I'm not entirely sure.

As a Catholic child, I watched a lot of people going through the motions of their faith weekly. The motions are one of the most obvious aspects of the Catholicism. How can you attend a service weekly and miss this?  There are words to say at the right time, gestures, body postures.  There is a sense of needing to do things in the right way so as to do it right and blend in.  

In fairness, the Catholic church of my childhood was contemporary. The architecture and vibe of the church was new, not old.  The priests seemed friendly enough. Their educational programs were organized.  As churches go and as Catholic churches go, it was a good enough place.

There was some emphasis on the Bible---they gave each of us children one as we pursued our first communion and had our weekly CCD classes.  At 53, I just looked up CCD to find out what it means--Confraternity of Christian Doctrine. This case in point is what I experienced often as a young Catholic--terms that seemed far away and without context, motions that I went through.  I longed for real engagement. I think I got the morality clearly enough, but my understanding of God and His Church was limited and limiting.  That's primarily how I felt about it as best as I can recall.

It didn't help that my father was not a person of active faith, and that my mother's faith was as fragile as the rest of her.  My sister, who is ten years older than me, became a "born again Christian" as a young adult and pursued her faith as a Protestant.  I watched this from the sidelines with a good bit of skepticism. My parents didn't seem to be a big fan of it, and blamed it on her boyfriend, eventual husband.

I started this entry with the intention of exploring my relationship to the Bible and its connection to my faith journey, but like the magician's hat full of scarves, so much more spills out and who knows where the bottom lies?

I stepped away from my local non-denominational congregation in the summer of 2020 during Covid. For me, our church's approach to Covid strained and broke open cracks that were there long before then.  But, Covid pushed me to push upon them, ultimately revealing a brokeness underneath that was toxic disjointed leadership.  Yes, I do mean toxic.  

This after pursuing my local church community and life as forcefully and faithfully as God's Word. In my church journey, I've endured churches led by pastors with controlling egos and impure hearts.  I've witnessed a lack of humility in many and a tendency to lead a dual life. I've also endured lazy congregations that do not pursue an understanding of the Word at all--or, they do so in very literal, limited ways which doesn't allow for mystery and space.

I've been away from any church membership since the summer of 2020.  To this point, I truly have not been able to even think of returning.  The combination of my frustration with the local church combined with Covid and my Bible fatigue have led me to a long pause.

January 6th 2023

 George Herbert's poetry is lean and muscular, terse even. The sentence order is often inverted and the "thees, thous, and O's" separate me from his persona, so formal. Intense, reverant, heady, truthfilled, distant.

Francis Chan is another thing. Too presumptious in asserting that he understands his reader. I'm not sure he does. I'm sure he doesn't understand parts of me and my struggle with the Church.  Some of his assertions do resonate with me: his observation that I have become resigned to the current consumer mentality of church goers--true. 

I come with an oppositive perspective---want to belong to a Christian community to participate, belong, serve alongside others who are seeking God on earth, visible the invisible through our words, hands, hearts. 

Sitting in a sanctuary has never been my favorite.  Each service feels packed with mostly shallow connections between church members, the "club" mentality. In the "low church" environments I've known for almost three decades now, the preacher/speaker is the main event, the center point of the service.  His, and it's always been a "he" observations on the Word of God feel more about him trying to pull something out of the congregation. The better ones admit flaws and show a bit of his own struggle. But now am I people watching or worshipping? I'm not sure.

The Catholic services I attended for the first fifteen years of my life are a different thing altogether. The robes, hats, scarves, candles, pews, statues, and holy waters separate me instead of bringing me closer. I am other, separate, trying to draw near.  

I watched an Episcopal service last night, trying to enter in, seeing if I missed something in all of those years of putting in time at Catholic service. Here are my thoughts and questions:

Do I need to dress up to draw near to God? To worship Him? Is low church too casual? From everything I read about Jesus, I would conclude he'd say it's not relevant.  He dismissed handwashing and so many of the rites of the Pharisees.  High church feels like a resurrection of these things when Jesus said to let them go.

Why are there so many old people in high churches? Their congregations are typically half empty at least and 2/3rds of those in the pews are over 60 I'd say.  Where are the middle-aged? The youthful?  I see some children and teens coming and going through nursery or as helpers in the service. Are their parents involved? Earnest? Or are they going through motions out of duty or habit?

Why so much organ? What is the purpose of the book of common prayer? 

Observations:

From a 21st century perspective, it's laborious and creates a "people watching" event to have everyone come and kneel for communion.  If I did this every week, would it become tedious and distracting? If so, would this be a reflection of the state of my heart? Do the priests and highly involved members grow to love communion.

Why do so many of the clergy recite the common creeds and responses in a "priest voice" that again separates me from them. Their tone feels detached, disembodied. Repeating these words with everyone at a particular cadance, it's almost impossible for me to enter into them.  They fly away from me as they are spoken.  I  long to go back and ponder them if that's the point.  If the hope is not to think through them, then why are we doing this?  All of what Jesus said points away from rote recitation and relationship.

Thinking back to George Herbert's "Nature," I think the condition of my heart is similar but not similar to his own.  He describes his heart as rugged, rebellious, like a stone, and sapless. He feels that his soul could even bubble up and dissolve when exposed.  His struggle and plea to God to remake it or create a new one entirely resonates with me.  I hear King David's voice implore "Create in me a clean heart, renew a steadfast spirit in me."

It's comforting to be in good company. George Herbert and King David both sought to know God and be known by Him.

I would not say that my heart is firstmost rebellious though or a stone.  Instead, it feels weary, messy, hurt.  I want to protect my heart from "Christians" and clergy of all kinds who seem enveloped in empty motions or self-interest. I want none of that. 

Then I feel guilty for judging other hearts--clearly not my business according to the Jesus. Although David spoke often of his enemies, I don't want to put those in the sanctuary in that camp.  I'd rather avoid these people who seem to all have their own struggles with God. They are a discouragement to me because I see either emptiness, works, or them judging me back. Ugh. My instinct is to disengage so as to not become part of that problem at least.

But then, doesn't that leave me somewhat like the high clergy, semi-disembodied at times in voice, separate, distinct, definitely not feeling like part of a vibrant community or even functional one to lower the bar.

Psalm 26

So I'm back to meditate on this psalm for the second time in writing. The words of the first line have staying power--"Vindicate me, O Lord," and I've found myself praying them multiple times this week over a variety of personal, relational, community, and global circumstances.

David seemed to master at least this--he knew judgement was in God's realm and respected that.  After cutting the hem of Saul's garment he seeks to move Saul with this truth:

"May the LORD judge between me and you; and may the LORD avenge me on you; but my hand shall not be against you. As the proverb of the ancients says, 'Out of the wicked comes wickedness'; but my hand shall not be against you." -1 Samuel 24:12-13

If we are able to trust in God's perfect judgement, then there can be nothing better, more freeing, or higher.  Though in the moment, we long to cut off the head of the Sauls in our world, this psalm models where to go for justice--and it's not to ourselves or our ability to discern. 

When I think of all of the big and little judgements that happen in our world, much of the conflict is generated in the spirit of fairness, rightness, precedence, preference.  Giving up that justice, that decision, that verdict, to God feels precarious to me---not in the eternal sense (somehow this is easier to trust) but in the immediate.  I think of C.S. Lewis' statement about how he doesn't doubt that God has our best interests at heart, but that he wonders what it will cost.  This is a bad paraphrase--need to dig it up.

Trust seems to come easier for some people than others. As a person who has worked through--I'm very picky about whom I trust.  I've been working on trusting God since I was a little girl and had seasons of better success than others.  Sadly, in my early  50's, I find myself feeling regressive--that I am visiting some of the tougher issues of faith that hurt to work through in my teens and early adult years.  I don't understand this--it's frustrating to feel that faith can be circular instead of linear.

King David certainly manifested a circular faith though.  His psalms are full of high highs, low lows, bitter truths and simple trust. He makes it feel simple, but it never is walking it out. Even though I cannot always embrace and live out his moments of straightforward and bold faith, they make a way through the waters for me.

I can plead for him to vindicate me, vindicate others, vindicate the broken, overlooked, abused, ignored, and somehow it is freeing and enough to know where to bring this stuff--these difficult pieces of myself and of the world---to know that it's not only ok, but that it's good and expected to lay those at His doorstep, His gate.  And that His justice will be perfect--even if not today.

March 14th, Psalm 26

 "Vindicate me, O LORD, For I have walked in my integrity."  -King David, Psalm 26:1 

Really, Lord?  The word vindicate is a strong way to start an already off Monday morning.  But, in my desire to keep it on the text, and keep the context in the text, and meditate upon that, here we are with "vindicate."

To vindicate is to absolve from false accusation---that's my Monday morning on my second cup of coffee definition. Now for Merriam-Webster's:

Hmmmm.  The #2 definition feels aggressive, jugular, confrontational--throw it down and slay it; an eye for an eye. In contrast, all of the nuances of 1--a, b1, b2, and c feel protective, defensive, a coming alongside. #3 feels cold and legal, neither here nor there #4 feels healing, loose--too bad it's termed obsolete.  Deliverance is a step beyond protection and defense, and certainly a different and better thing than to avenge.

The language of deliverance is a common theme of David's in the psalms. It's also in the Lord's prayer: "deliver us from evil."  That's worth some time.

The connotations of vindication go on and on...

The KJ translates the Hebrew word as judge.  What kind of person is so supremely confident that they start a conversation with God this way? It's ballsy.  He's begging to be judged. 

Judged by God in what way?  Is he suggesting he's entirely innocent? David was chased by Saul and Absalom, but he also sinned big with Bathsheba:

"If You, LORD, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?"  -Psalm 130:3

My hunch is that our cultural understandings and associations with this word are disparate, disjointed.

Strong's definition for שָׁפַט, shâphaṭ (shaw-fat') comes closest to Merriam's #1:

"A primitive root; to judge, that is, pronounce sentence (for or against)."  But all the other senses are possible extensions and implications as well.

The second half of that first verse helps:

"Vindicate me, O LORD, For I have walked in my integrity. I have also trusted in the LORD; I shall not slip."

And there is no time to explore all of THAT this morning, sadly.  David is surely bold--that I've got right. If I had any doubts about the confidence and frankly nerviness of Psalm 26:1, the following verse just confirms it:

Psa 26:2  Examine me, O LORD, and prove me; Try my mind and my heart. 

I admire David's heart to lay it all bear---his spirit to truth tell, to be known.  It's scary though.  Like Adam and Eve, I'm not so sure I want to meet God during His morning walk and talk about my heart.

I want to hide my heart. It feels yucky to me if I'm honest. The world feels scary. My experience is that it will stomp on my heart, and God will allow that. Maybe not facilitate it, but allows it all the same. The harsh nature of this world is unquestionable in my eyes.

So where is David going with this? My time for writing this morning is up....I'll continue my journey into Psalm 26 tomorrow.

March 11, Psalms 25

The psalms, especially David's, anchor me. When my mind threatens to pull and dart away to dark places, David's focus pulls me back.  It's as if he said to his soul---"lets get a few things straight"--tough love from David.

"To You, O LORD, I lift up my soul." Psalm 25:1

To me this means not giving preference or firsts to other events, news, ideologies, perceptions, people, desires, gods in their many faces...first take your soul to God.

"Lead me in Your truth and teach me, For You are the God of my salvation; On You I wait all the day."  -Psalm 25:5

What is the difference between "Your truth" and truth? A matter of perception?  I've witnessed many false truths, some of my own making.  My understanding of the scriptures, of God, and of His truth shifts through study of the scriptures, experiences, conversations, and time.  His truth is not inherently my truth--Lord, close the gap.  I love that we can be lead in His truth, that we are teachable, that He longs to teach us.

"Remember, O LORD, Your tender mercies and Your lovingkindnesses, For they are from of old." Psalm 25:5-6

Sin is old. My screw-ups are numerous. But His tender mercies and lovingkindness are even older.  They go back and back and back...

"Do not remember the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions; According to Your mercy remember me, For Your goodness' sake, O LORD." Psalm 25:7

I feel David's compassion for himself and for me.  He felt these disparate pieces of himself too---who he was when he was young, when he screwed up, the hot mess of his life unfolding, to his regret, to his renewed desire to seek God amid the wreckage.  Again, the Anchor: "According to Your mercy..."

"Who is the man that fears the LORD? Him shall He teach in the way He chooses." Psalm 25:12

Different people, different methods of teaching.  His choice.

"My eyes are ever toward the LORD...." Psalm 25:15

Ever toward, focus on God--not me--not my untrustworthy understanding. His teaching. His truth. His face.

The In-Betweens

 For some months now I've been in-between things...

In between Bible plans. In between different understandings of the Christian faith with regard to social issues, political issues, my understanding of the functioning of the local church.

In between churches. I don't know if we are even in-between churches, or if this will usher in a different way of living out our Christian faith---apart from traditional local congregations.

In between home plans--cleaning out old things from when our children were younger, preparing to renovate parts of our home, but not sure what we exactly want to do, how much it will cost, how it should be.

In between professional roles--no longer teaching, doing some volunteer work and finding out things about myself and others through that too.

In between balancing the needs of my body and mind better--some days making better choices, moving my body, meditating, focusing my mind, learning to take time for these things and view them as positive. Other days, slouching into old eating habits and comfort zones, sluggish.

In between our children being in our home and on their own--parts of them in each place.

And amid all the in-betweens, aware I am a privileged American--not stretched between multiple jobs or displaced by war, famine, or flood. I have time enough to think about the problems of the world and church which seem legion.   

There is a piece of me that would like to write more, practice this discipline, commit to meditating through writing on His word, The Word, my understanding of the world and Word together.  Today I'm honoring that piece and taking time.  I'm choosing a new plan that will work through the New Testament, Psalms, and Proverbs.

Here it is for my reference and for whomever may read this and be curious.