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No, this is not a post about what you should do if Obama wins the election Tuesday.
I just wanted to share with you this year’s Kinsley Family Jack-o’-Lantern.
I call it “An Obama Presidency.” Not really. I’m just kidding. Everyone take a deep breath. God is on the throne regardless of who’s in the Oval Office. Have a good weekend.
Thanks to Eric for the pic.
Happy Halloween (or Fall Festival)!
Some of you know that I attended the Catalyst Conference in Atlanta last week. It was pretty good. I’ve been going for the past four or five years and enjoy it every time. A few of us from the creative team at Student Life usually get to go because of how good the production is. But, it’s a leadership conference. So we end up talking much more about the leadership principles espoused than how they use the LED cylinder. I think this is great since we’re often not the ones really looked to for leadership. After all, I don’t any of the 21 Irrefutable Fundamentals of Teamwork and Leadership Through Micromanaging Your Flock memorized..
One of the best sessions to me was on Thursday afternoon when Seth Godin spoke. Some of you may know Godin as the author of Purple Cow, Permission Marketing, Free Prize Inside or The Dip. He’s a big dog in the world of business, writes the most read business blog in the world, and has nine (that’s right, count ‘em, nine) bestsellers. I don’t think he’s a believer either, but what he had to say was great. He obviously knew who his audience was and catered his talk to us. His presentation was fantastic and engaging as well. He also gave a copy of his latest book, Tribes, to everyone in attendance. That’s almost 13,000 copies. Remember those nine bestsellers? Yeah. He’s not worried about it.
Anyway, I’ve been reading through the book lately, and I’m really into it. I stumbled across a passage the other night that I liked and wanted to share with you.
If religion comprises rules you follow, faith is demonstrated by the actions you take.
When you lead without compensations, when you sacrifice without guarantees, when you take risks because you believe, then you are demonstrating your faith in the tribe and its mission.
Of course it’s difficult. But leaders will tell you that it’s worth it.
Thoughts?
I’ve decided to make the first “‘Church’ Is Not A Palindrome” post the first part of an at least two part series. Why? There were things left unsaid. Maybe I would have let it be but Jen offered a nice comment and Neil dedicated an entire post on his own blog to me and others who have found themselves mired in similar sin. You can find his post here.
What I want to write about now isn’t really in direct response to something either of them has said, though they both have some thoughtful, interesting, insightful things to say. Rather, their responses actually reminded me of what I was initially thinking about when I first wanted to write about me and my struggle to find a church. I didn’t get to it in the first post because what I write here not often thought out completely. I kinda do that as I go along. Plust, I was getting sick (which I now am, officially), so I was pretty much coming in and out of it as I wrote. So, anyway, what I forgot is what follows.
I grew up attending a very traditional Southern Baptist church in suburban Jackson, MS. I loved it. I really did. That might surprise some of you who know my struggles with those kinds of churches as of late and with the SBC in particular. But I really only have good memories of those years. Sure it had its problems (I won’t hash them out here; it’s beside the point) but the people of that church instilled in me values, theology and a knowledge of God that has shaped who I am today. I was baptised at that church. I attended VBS every summer and dreamed of when I’d get to be in the youth group. My best friend’s dad was on staff at the church. It seems like I was there all the time.
Now that church is all but dead, another mostly-empty church building (though this one of more traditional church architecture; it has a steeple and stained glass and everything) in a declining part of town. What happened? Any number of things, probably. I don’t know. My family had moved by the time it really had to try to weather some real problems, not the least of which was staying traditional and fundamental in the midst of the changing church culture in America.
But as I think back, that tradition is something that I miss the most.
Every Sunday morning we would close the service by all standing and singing together “The Doxology,” which is really just the last verse to another hymn called “Awake, My Soul, and with the Sun.” If you were raised in a church like mine (and so many of us were) then you probably know the lyrics already. But if you weren’t and, therefore, you don’t, I’ve printed them for you below.
Praise God from Whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost;
Amen
Every Sunday from as long as I can remember until we moved our church membership when I was in the eighth grade, we sang that song, loud, boisterous and triumphant to the accompaniment of a piano and a huge pipe organ. For the longest time I wasn’t even sure what the words were. I never saw them printed or was told where to look in the hymnal. Everyone just seemed to know them and eventually I did too. There was a mystery to it. It felt completely different than anything else I did during the week. It felt more sacred. Older. Other.
Just after Thansgiving we would dedicate a Sunday evening service to the “Hanging of the Greens” where we decorated the church for Christmas and officially began the Advent season that we would celebrate for the following four Sundays. During this service we would decorate two Christmas trees that flanked the pulpit. Only, they weren’t called Christmas trees. They were called Chrismon trees because they weren’t to be decorated with mere ornaments, but rather with chrismons, symbols from the life of Christ and His Church. You can google “chrismon” if you’re completely unfamiliar with what I’m talking about but these would be ornaments in the shapes of shepherd staffs or chalices or mangers or crosses or flames, etc. The list could go on.
I remember there were hundreds of them. There would be tables in the lobby of the sanctuary covered in chrismons. On your way into the service, everyone in attendance would pick one up. And there was an unspoken rule amonst the adults that they were to never take the grapes. You see, all of the chrismons were decorated in white and gold… all, that is, except for the grapes, which were covered in purple and green sequins. These were left for us kids to try to get to first. If you were one of the lucky ones to get a bunch of grapes as your chrismon then you were the shiz.
The highlight of the service (well, the highlight for me and everyone else I knew) was when the pastor would go through the chrismons one at a time, carefully explaining to all present what that particular symbol represented and meant. If he was talking about your chrismon, then it was time for you to go and hang it on one of the two trees. You have no idea how much my knowledge of the story of Jesus was reinforced by hearing about those symbols year after year.
So, why do I bring those two things up? Because, in many ways, they epitomize “tradition” and have all but been abandoned in most modern churches (at least the ones I’ve visited). I mean, who sings “ye” in a song anymore? Yet they are representative of some of the things I miss the most. Sure, absence makes the heart grow fonder, but the memories I have about my practice of church in those years goes way beyond simple nostalgia.
Now, my problem isn’t that I can’t find a church that sings the doxology or decorates with chrismons at Christmas. If you remember, the main reason I gave for my recent absence in church attendance was that I have struggled endlessly to find one that I like. Yet when I think back the things that I “liked” are not things that I would be looking for now or that, if I encountered them, I would say that I did like.
My point is that my perspective is skewed. I’m looking for the wrong thing. A lot of us are. Neil’s 100% correct. Of course, I hope Jen is too in that we are now far enough removed from the “worship wars” to recognize that thinking it was a war in the first place is ludicrous and that we can now have a greater appreciation for all expression and practice of worship of the one true God.
I wanted to write all this to basically say that I’m wrong. I’ve been doing it wrong. I want to fix that and do it right. It’s just not that easy, though maybe it should be, but I’m working on it.
Though, if the next church I walked in had a table covered in styrofoam grape-bunches decorated with colored sequins it would make my deicision about which church to attend a lot easier.
How’s that for some alliteration?
If you don’t already read Michael Kelley’s blog, you should. Especially today’s post.
You can find it here.
You’re welcome.
Can I be honest with you for a second? Because I’m not sure I can. I’ve been thinking about writing about what I want to write in this post about for awhile now, and the more I think about you reading it, the more nervous I get. What will you think of me? Will you take it the wrong way? Will you judge me? Will you write me off? Will you brand me a pagan?
Of course, I’m really not even that sure about who “you” are. So, since you can’t answer me very well anyway, I’m just going to go ahead with this post and deal with the consequences. I mean, this is a blog, right? Not the inquisition. (Though I’m sure it could be.)
It can be really tough for me to go to church. In fact, (moment of confession and transparency here) lately (and I’ll let you define “lately”) I haven’t gone at all. Why? Well, honestly, I don’t really like it. There. I said it, and I’m still here. God hasn’t struck me down… at least, not yet.
Let me expound on this.
First, there are a number of questions about what it means that I haven’t been to church in a while. Does it mean that I don’t worship, both individually and coporately? Does it mean that I don’t sing hymns or praise songs? Does it mean that I don’t pray or meditate or read Scripture or study the Bible with other believers? Does it mean that I don’t listen to sermons or give of my money to the greater body of Christ? Does it mean that I don’t fellowship with other Christ-followers? Does it mean that I don’t celebrate communion? Does it mean that I don’t tell others about Jesus? Does it mean that I don’t participate actively in the mission of God around the world? Does it mean that I’m not being challenged by saints of greater maturity than my own or that I’m not investing in those who haven’t been following the Way as long as I have? Does it mean that I’m not producing spiritual fruit in my life or excercising the gifts with which the Spirit has equipped me? Does it mean that I am not contributing the furthering of God’s kingdom? Does it mean that I don’t Sabbath? No. It doesn’t mean any of those things. In fact, I would argue that I actively engage in all of these activities on just as much a regular basis as I would if I confined my participation in them to weekly church activities that I participated in withouth fail.
Then what does it mean? Well, I don’t often go to a particular church building. I don’t support the denomination of my local congregation. I don’t contribue to my church’s budget. I could go on, but you probably get the idea.
Now… so far it probably appears as if I’m going to make a case to validate my lack of church attendance. But I’m not. You see, if you asked me if I think I’m sinning by continuing to participate in the first list while withholding my participation from things that could go in my second list, I would say “yes.” Even though I still regularly practice the spiritual and essential aspects of church and just conveniently avoid all the trappings of an institution, I still believe it’s sin. I’m not proud of it. I’m no justifying it. I’m just telling you how it is. I hope that there is never a day where George Barna is right and that the “true” Christians are out on the golf course on Sunday mornings while dying congregations stare blankly ahead in their half-empty conference-center-style cathedrals. Firstly, because I sold my golf clubs in a garage sale to rasie money to go to Africa (plus, I suck at it anyway) and secondly, because I don’t think that’s what God desires.
What am I saying, then? I think God wants me (and you) to go to church. The little “c” kind. Some local congregation, whether it meets in a really nice building or in your neighbor’s house.
So, why haven’t I been going? Trust me. It would take way longer than you want to read to fully answer that one (most of you have checked out by now anyway and I’m only continuing to type for those of you reading simply for the sake of procrastinating from what you really need to be doing).
The simplest way for me to say it is this: I have had an impossible time trying to find a church that I “like.” I realize all of the implications (most of them faulty) that are contained within that statement, but if you want to know the reason. There it is. It ain’t pretty.
So, what is it that I have trouble liking? Any number of things. Some of them completely superficial. Like, the style (or lack thereof) of musical worship or that music is the only thing considered to be worship or how the pastor preaches or what he (or she) preaches about or how much money was spent on the building or the lack of “ugly” people in the congregation or… The reality is that if any of us sat down to make a list of all the surface-level things we don’t like about certain churches, the list could go on endlessly.
However, the main thing that I have found missing around the ‘Ham for me is a church with a theology that I identify with. I don’t want to get into attacking particular churches or denominations here (I’ve done that plenty elsewhere), but I will say that I haven’t found one whose beliefs I would say I line up with. And I don’t know that that’s completely unusual, especially when you get into parts of theology that are based much more on tradition than Biblical exegesis. However, I have a few non-negotiables that for most churches and denominations don’t really go together. I would think that they would, but evidently they don’t. I recognize I’m being a bit vague on this point, but if you know me, you can figure out what those things are, and if you don’t know me, then you’ll have to take my word that it is another thing that will take a long time to explain.
Yet, here I am, continuing to sin on the basis of these reasons. And not only that, but I also lack a true community of faith with whom I gather regularly and am never forced to encounter and overcome the differences, failings and trappings of our local churches.
This has all come up lately because of Story. I want to raise Story in a church. I want to be a part of a church that helps me to grow so that I’m a better father and spiritual leader for Story and Liza. I want to be obedient for my own spiritual well being but also as an example to Story, not to mention for the glory of God.
Yet this one thing for me (and I recognize that it’s a pretty big thing, especially for someone who’s supposedly a spiritual leader and went to seminary for goodness sake) contines to be a real hang-up, and I have no idea what to do about it.
I talk with enough people to know that I’m not alone in this, though I might be an extreme case because I just don’t force myself to go. I gave up on that tactic a long time ago.
But I’m looking for the answer. God and I talk a lot about it. A lot. Believe me.
In fact, I’d say that me sitting here and writing this and putting it out there is part of the conversation.
How big a part? I guess that remains to be seen.
In the meantime… I don’t know.
Maybe I need to go ’round again.
There are those people who ask me why I don’t just start my own (church, that is). The answer to that question is for another post entirely.
So, what?
All I can really tell you, I guess, is that I’m full of questions on this subject and not a lot of answers. But I am bound and determined to seek out those answers instead of just going with the flow. That doesn’t make me righteous or holy or anything… not anymore than my grudging church attendance has in the past. But I hope that it will lead to a better outcome.
In the meantime, does anyone have some golf clubs I can borrow?
Because I’m already a proud papa, you’re going to have to begin enduring baby pictures of Story from me pretty early.
Here she is.
Here’s her foot. You can even see her toes.
And here she is fist-pumping, just like her Auntie Ber.
Don’t you think she looks just like Liza?
Liza had another doctor’s appointment today. Actually, the appointment wasn’t actually with a doctor, but a nurse. She performed an ultrasound. The purpose of which, amongst other things, was to discover the gender of our child. Well, Baby Kinsley really wasn’t interested in being photographed. There was a lot of movement away from the ultrasound machine and Baby kept squeezing its legs together.
And that’s a good thing. ‘Cause we finally found out she’s a girl. And that’s going to be a good discipline for her to have developed, especially with the rising statistics of teenage sexual activity, but that’s for another time.
So, we’re having a daughter.
Her name is Story. Story Reese Kinsley.
And, oh, what a Story she is.
I’ll have more to come.
Oh… and I’m back, by the way.
Believe it.
