Posts Tagged "spiritual musings"

Unspiritual Spiritual Things

Posted by Caroline on Jul 13, 2009 in Amazing Grace | 0 comments

Whether I’m actually reading it or not, I always have a book tucked in my purse, stuffed in my backpack, or stashed in my car.  My favorite places are bookstores where I could easily wander for hours, as if flipping through pages somehow transfers knowledge into my brain.  My ipod is packed with podcasts; Scripture is plastered around my mother’s warm, secure home, and every Sunday morning words of truth are preached directly to my soul—and more often than not, these words of truth are preached directly into my sin.

Yet, none of these make me spiritual.  They’re merely actions.

The routine of these activities themselves means nothing apart from the entrance of God’s presence into them, and without His presence, they’re spiritual actions by nature that aren’t actually spiritual.

Still, I like my routine with books, sermons, church and the like.

Stepping on the scale with my suitcase and subtracting my weight forced me to pull out the packed items that sent the scale well over 50 pounds.  I quickly realized that to live out of my suitcase for a month certain items must stay, and my books must go.  Thus, arriving in Costa Rica, my Religion To-Go kit had dwindled to my Bible and Oswald Chamber’s Utmost of His Highest.

Leaving my distractions on my bookshelf  (though I didn’t see them as distractions) proved to be a spiritual move I initially despised but now treasure.  What I thought was feeding my desire to grow spiritually actually detoured me from the deep inner communication with the Lord that can only be found in and through prayer—not through a book, a sermon, Christian music, or video series.

Back home, while stockpiling my brain and schedule with my Religion To-Go kit, I had been attending services while not allowing the Lord to tend to my soul; I had been reading books without being honest enough to read my own desires, and I had been listening to sermons instead of being still enough to listen to the Lord.

However, the time away from routine was a drought of my habits and a river for growth.  Sunday mornings were not spent in church, and I quickly realized I desperately needed to find creative ways to recreate worship wherever I was.  I’d watch the Sun come up over the volcanoes, bask in the greatness of God by contemplating the ocean, or find a hammock to call my pew.

More genuine prayer occurred on those mornings—mornings that any earthly standard would have deemed lonely.  Yet, I knew I had heavenly company and that truth certainly overshadowed my physical location.

I learned you can have “church” by yourself, and when you plan the service, are the only one singing in the choir, and you are the entire congregation listening to the Word of the Lord, you definitely pay attention.

And you learn an indescribable amount yourself.  I sure did.  I learned how I interact with the Lord— not how a book tells me to or how a worship song leads me to feel.  But the power in numbers with the accompanying comfort and joy that comes with going before the Lord with fellow sinners saved by grace brings an overwhelming sense of peace.

I began to long for church for that reason.

One rainy afternoon in Costa Rica I walked into the Mega Super for groceries, and as I was surrounded by words and phrases I didn’t know, a tune of familiarity caught more than my attention.  Muted by hurried shoppers, a Spanish worship song echoed throughout the store, and I immediately stopped my search for peanut butter and listened.  At once I felt at home—as if the Mega Super had somehow become a church filled with believers glorifying the one True God.

And then I was back to my own creation of church—church without praise songs, sermons, or fellowship, but early mornings—simply the Lord and me.

This past Sunday marked eight weeks of missing the conventional church service I had begun to long for, and as a welcome back, I had the privilege of standing amongst the members of Brooklyn Tabernacle in New York City.  The excitement and energy sang forth from the choir met a congregation enthralled by the Lord, ready to engage the Spirit in authentic abandonment to the King.

I was revived.

Still, singing the songs did not make me spiritual.
Listening to the sermon did not make me spiritual.
Neither did taking notes, raising my hands, or merely being in the church.

Immediately following the service I ran to the bookstore to purchase Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire by the pastor, Jim Cymbala.  This afternoon in Hebrew’s Coffee shop I’ve been reading the book.  I thoroughly recommend it.

But, I recommend it not because the book makes you spiritual or because it will change your life, which I’m slowly learning.  Only God can do that.  Back at home I am shifting back into my routine of book reading, book browsing, book carrying, and even book scanning.  I will attend a church service Sunday, and I set my radio to fill my car with praise music and sometimes a sermon.

Yet I write almost as a reminder to myself that the books, the sermons, the worship music, and the other items that complete the Religion to-go kit mean nothing without the presence of the God in them.

So is there value in the activity?  Of course.  Reading my books has an incomparable worth as my mind is spurred towards considering the actions and character of God.  Worship music prepares my heart to start to ponder who God is.  Sermons preached meet me with force.  Standing in church among fellow believers brings a sense of community amongst fighters in this battle we call the Christian life.  I’m reminded I’m not the only one.  I am part of a church. A body. A family.

However, what I must not neglect is the truth that only the activity that brings me face to face with the King is that which is beneficial.   Sadly and startling, I have the capability to read and sing without engaging my spiritual being.  I can blend in with a pew even in my church clothes.  But when I’m alive in any activity, the worth and importance becomes a necessity as it becomes a paved path to an encounter with the Lord.

Thus, each of my “spiritual” routine actions needs to be evaluated to see if they are really on the path to the Lord.  And if not, their value is ceasing, and some serious inviting needs to take place.

Knowing that I’m bound to develop some type of routine, again Lord, I invite You to come give purpose to each spiritual thing I do—that what I do might lead me to You.

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Culture has Made God a Convenient God

Posted by Caroline on Apr 28, 2009 in Amazing Grace | 0 comments

Churches now advertise.  The traditional “invite your friends, neighbors, and coworkers” doesn’t suffice anymore.  Billboards are plastered with church logos the same way McDonald’s or the local Comfort Inn are advertised, and there’s no problem in doing so.  Someone might just be driving along and all of the sudden read the billboard or hear the commercial on the radio and think “HEY, I’ll turn off two miles down the road, exit 39, and go to church to ‘connect with God in a real way and meet great people.’” And for the small chance of this happening, I’m all for advertising the Bride of Christ the same way as a juicy cheeseburger or whatever coming attraction IF the real Church isn’t altered or misrepresented.  And it doesn’t have to be.

But…the Big Mac sure looks more appealing on the 14 by 48 foot billboard, photo shopped with colors to incite hunger upon glancing at it, and the model lying her head on the fluffy pillow to advertise “real rest” at the next hotel immediately makes me want to drift into my dreams.  However, the Big Mac doesn’t really look like the picture when I open the paper bag, and no matter how hard I try, I will never look or feel like the sleeping model  (Who sleeps with makeup on anyway?).  Advertising is at its best when the ad leads someone to look at any given thing and think that it fits perfectly into their lives.

Does church conveniently fit into the average American’s life?  No way.  It’s the morning after Saturday evening (keyword being morning), you have to dress nice, and worst of all, you have to smile and pretend like you want to be there.  So, what have we done?  We’ve made it convenient and have advertised it in a way that is appealing to the average American who doesn’t want to attend.

Last weekend I saw a church with a massive sign advertising a 30-minute worship service. I went to its’ website to find what appeared to be the perfect church service: “ The high energy, focused package will creatively engage you to personally connect with God.” If I were to attend, I could connect with God and be on with my life in 30 minutes! A PACKAGE (all in one!) geared around my schedule.  Finally a service for my needs!  The church claimed the service was perfect for “anybody who is tired of the way traditional church has been done.”  Essentially this church, in its attempt to grab the attention of the lost, has mocked the Church as a whole.  Giving up the entire Sabbath morning is now deemed absurd; it has make shifted the King of the Universe who deserves time and energy into a box that can now be easily checked off the list. We’re all about efficiency with our Swiffer Sweeper, Instant Macaroni, 10 minutes abs, and now church can be innovated to fit this lifestyle.

We can’t innovate Jesus.

Jesus isn’t convenient.  Nothing about him is.  He doesn’t claim to be, so we shouldn’t expect him to be.  He commands his followers to drop everything and follow him.  He asks to be loved above all else.  The Christian life is exciting. Stimulating. Never normal.  But it’s also extremely challenging.  Contrary to this culture.  The road is narrow and the battle is against no easy enemy. Rather, it’s against the forces of evil.  The Christian life is LIFE itself.

Apparently this life is not enough; it needs advertisement.   It needs cropping, photoshopping, and to be edited into a picture that might be appealing to the busy life consumer.  It needs the truth twisted just enough to make it intriguing. Creating ways to make this life appealing to outsiders shows that it really isn’t the life to the insiders. We see it as needing spunk and pizzazz in order to engage the lost.

As the church, when our selling point becomes convenience and ease, it magnifies our misdirection; it shows that we’ve completely missed Jesus.  He is not convenient, so why present him as so?  When we do, we shy away from the truth and consequently misrepresent Him.  Having church attendees who the think they’re serving a convenient God is worth a whole lot of nothing.  Advertisers showcase their goods for consumption and profit.  True consumption for the Church is not attendance, but acceptance and knowledge of the reality of a relationship with the Lord—an ever-so-time-consuming relationship that demands… everything.  We’ve got to cut out the false advertisement.

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