It isn’t how you do church. In my opinion, it doesn’t matter what tradition you follow. Your church expression can be anything from none to house-church to the highest liturgical expression. The fact is, none of these matter. Well, in fact, they all do matter. None of them are the solution. None of them are the problem. This is what I mean by “none of these matter”. I do not think that rearranging the order is going to change the root problem… that is the human mind. I am convinced that it is only by working energetically on the mind and its transformation that the structure is transformed genuinely and authentically.
Revolutions come and revolutions go. One revolution overturns one regime only to set up another which only sponsors the next revolution. This never ceases and endlessly fascinates humanity. But it leads nowhere. I don’t believe, in this context, in progress. It is only dolling up the corpse. Of course, any changes which further liberates the human being must occur. But to think that the appearance of liberty is actual liberty is foolish.
This is why I like things to be kept as simple as possible. Gather. Sing. Give. Study. Pray. Disperse. Keep in touch. Something like that. I don’t for a minute think that our community is any more advanced than the next one, or that our community is any more New Testamentish than the next one. This doesn’t concern me anymore. What concerns me is the freedom, the real freedom, of each individual person in the context of community. I think this is what provokes the transformation of the world that we desire.
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Is it possible to care for someone without having designs for him or her? Is it possible to love someone without having an agenda, no matter how glorious or noble? Is it possible to respect someone without having dreams or wishes for that person? These are very real questions that I ask. They are not hypothetical either, but real and urgent and necessary.
Jesus got angry with the teachers because they were laying burdens upon the people, burdens no doubt birthed from the teachers’ well-informed and studied dreams, desires, wishes, agendas and plans for the people. I don’t think for a second that their intentions were evil, but good and admirable. Could they love and teach the people without burdening them at all? Could they teach them without their teaching being pregnant with expectations? Could they love them with their desires as a community completely detached?
This is the problem: not that we need to purify our wishes for others, but to crucify them; not that we must make lovelier strings to attach to our love, but to cut them off altogether; not that we must baptize our agendas, but to lay them down once and for all; not that we must passionately make our visions more heavenly, but to forsake them now. What destroys true community is the layers of expectation, agenda, vision and wishes that are pressed upon it. This is why love is very much like death… because in both we must learn to let go. And this is why, my friends, we refuse to love… because it is too much like death… death to ourselves and all our desires.
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My church is not:
- its building
- its meetings
- its prayer
- its worship
- its teaching
- its reputation
- its leaders
- its plans
- its history
- its future…
… and I get very tired of fighting off everyone and everything that would make me believe this.
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Some people find it very frustrating to be a part of our community. Some have been so frustrated over it that they’ve actually left, never to come back. One of the biggest frustrations is that there are no real programs to speak of. So when someone comes to our community and wants to get involved, they have no idea what to do. Many people come with many skills and they want to apply them, but often end up frustrated because they don’t quite know how to go about it. They come to me, but not only am I not very helpful, but I refuse to create programs just to keep them busy. I point them back to themselves. We generally don’t like that. This process has happened to everyone in this community, including myself. And this is the kind of human nature that finds fullest expression in religious contexts.
Generally, people feel more valuable, or feel their worth, only when they are doing something. I reject that. Grace means to me that my value or worth has more to do with who I am than with what I do. God loved me while I was a sinner, dead. It is not about what I do. It is about something deeper. I am convinced that out of this revelation of my value and worth to God emerges gratitude, from which ought to emerge true good works. I’ve seen it a few times where someone is frustrated with the seeming inactivity of our church, but after a while they start realizing that the church isn’t the problem, but their own incessant obsession with the need for approval based on their compulsive activity. This not only has to do with their relationship with themselves and their community, but everything to do with their relationship with God. Some say just being isn’t enough. I agree. But I say: truly being leads to true compassion.
Take it a bit further: churches fall into the same trap of measuring their value and worth by how much they are doing. Is it possible for a church community to go through weeks, months or even years of ceasing activity in order to come to a place of a deeper understanding of love? Is there room for stillness, rest, contemplation, self-analysis and humility in the church? Generally we don’t think so.
This doesn’t mean that good works will cease. In fact, I’ve seen it with my own eyes. The opposite is true. A more significant kind of activity is created. There is a yoke, but it is light. And I will write about this maybe another time.
The photo is the creation of my friend Jorgen Klausen. I chose it because it evokes, for me, a sense of authenticity and being comfortable in your skin.
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The reason those of us who keep looking for miracles, signs and wonders are called adulterous is because we want a god other than the one we already have.
I had a bit of a revelation over the holidays. I saw myself as a little boy. My mind is filled with dreams and expectations and desires. They continuously get disappointed. So, as a result, my life is filled with disappointment. I don’t see these expectations fulfilled. I am sad far too often. I’ve been advised over and over again that I need to recast my visions, to adjust my dreams, to work harder to see my expectations come to pass. I’ve tried that and it is fruitless. Buddha realized that too. I’ve come to the conclusion that dreams and visions and the pursuit of signs and wonders is not only unhealthy, but, as Jesus said, adulterous. And I am one of those adulterous people completely surrounded by adulterous people.
This last year I saw many reasonable expectations meet with wild disappointment. I agree with Paul who agreed with the Old Testament, that we are all sinners and that all our feet are swift to shed blood. I no longer put my hope in people. I no longer put my hope in their strategies. They are dead-ends. I choose to put my hope in God, whatever that means. I’m going to be content with the god I got. Or, rather, who got me. I somehow know that if one woman or one man was transformed by the renewing of his or her mind… well… look out world!
The fine art photograph is the creation of my friend Mark Hemmings and is from his New York series. I like it.
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After our community suffered from a terrible church-split 10 years ago, I had to learn quickly that it was going to be important for me and the church to be flexible. Before the split we had nearly 400 members with a very lively schedule and robust budget. After the split, for the next two years, we watched our attendance fall to below half and our budget get cut to about a quarter of what it was. Many who left were strong financial supporters. When I had become the pastor the church, I looked forward to the church experiencing a steadily increasing attendance, income and reputation. I counted on a healthy and dependable salary for as long as I stayed there. The split shook that to pieces. To pieces.
Within weeks I realized I had to let predictability and the security that comes with it go. Like my young daughter says, “Let it go like a balloon!” I did let it go, but only after it popped. Since then, my salary has gone up and down. No, not up except once. Usually down. Sometimes I don’t get paid right away. Our offerings are sporadic. I’ve been on full time and part time and no time. The managers of the church know that I will allow my salary to be cut and even eliminated before the church goes under. I’m prepared to pastor the community without an income. I’ll have to receive my income from my art and maybe some construction work. (I prefer art, Lord, if you don’t mind.)
The unpredictability is reflected in the way we do church too. I never know what’s going to happen during our worship time or even during the teaching time. Last week I had a lesson all prepared when something else came up: there’s lots of tragedy happening right now with many people in our community and we thought it would be more appropriate to address that stuff. Yesterday, I taught a little, but a discussion got started that kept us occupied for the remainder of our time together.
Come to think of it, I like the unpredictability. I think I’d get bored otherwise. It adds a sense of adventure and risk that I think is more life-like, authentic and real. It allows us to do things as we see fit rather than doing things to meet the pre-planned goals. It allows us to be spontaneous, attentive and appreciative.
The pic is a self-portrait of my very spontaneous daughter Casile jumping off our coffee table.
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I have a good friend who was told by a pastor and an elder… who was there as a witness… that she was fat because she doesn’t submit to her husband. She left. Which only confirmed their suspicions. I told this story to a good friend of mine recently who exclaimed, “It’s a wonder anybody stays in church anywhere!” I agree. The amount of subtle manipulation, judgement, criticism, condemnation and abuse that goes on in the name of religion is remarkable! And I’ll tell you why…
Anytime you have an idea the way people should behave or turn out, it results in violence against that person. If I relate to my wife the way I think she ought to be, according to my own desires and expectations, it violates who she is already. If I relate to my children according to my wishes for them, it destroys who they actually are. The church is one of the most concentrated cultures for having and imposing expectations upon people. The pastor and elder had an idea of what a woman should look like. She didn’t look like that, so they challenged her to become what she should be. She also didn’t relate to her husband the way they thought she must, so they admonished her to submit to her husband the way they think she should. That’s their biblical mandate!
They couldn’t see past their own agenda for her to behold the incredible and unconventional beauty that she possessed already. Neither could they fit her rather feisty and confident way of relating to men into their grid for wives. Instead of letting her be to blossom in her own unique way, they crushed her. But only for a while. She got out from beneath their oppressive weight of judgement and is doing fine. But I know many other people who continue to get crushed and crushed and crushed. And I’ve heard some say that there’s something virtuous in being crushed… like a rose that releases its perfume only when crushed, or a grape its wine only after being crushed. Some can tell when they are free to leave the press. Others don’t, but continue to voluntarily submit to the unjust oppression that they don’t deserve nor need to endure. Get out if you can!
That’s just one reason why I think many are leaving the church, and why many others have already left.
The fine art photograph is the creation of my friend Jorgen Klausen.
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I really don’t know what to say. I appreciate your comments, but we are still not seeing it. I’m still in a season of speechlessness. I’m at a place where I feel like my whole continent is shaking at the roots. The whole world is crashing in. The paradigm I have been comfortably operating in is imploding, and I can’t presently see where else to go. I am a man in a house that is fully ablaze. There is no time to decide anything. It is only time to run. Run away from the flame. Get out of the house. NOW!
I don’t think it is helpful to simply tweak the system. I don’t think it is important anymore to upgrade our theology. I don’t think it does a bit of good to provide a new edition to our doctrine. I think it is a waste of time to solidify a new position. Not another dogmatic theology?! Not another denomination?! Not another congregation with a new vision?! Not another religious blog?! Not another spirituality?! Not another strategy?! Not another program?! I’m sick of these. They are lukewarm. I spew them out of my mouth! They are tasteless, unhealthy, lack any nutrition, and are in fact toxic.
I want to make it clear that I am not unhappy with the community I am a part of. I have no problem with the communities of people out there. It is something else. It is the boat we sail in. It is the overarching paradigm which constantly tries to confine us by conforming us to itself. I think our community is quite free in many ways, and I appreciate it. It has been grueling but rewarding because of that. But we are still under the yoke of bondage because we all come to the community with visions of what it should be rather than seeing what it actually is. We are still not entirely free of expectations and the resulting judgments. Which means we still have not come to a place of love. We have yet to die to all that came before. The cross is still before us, and we are not yet nailed to it.
The fine art photograph is the creation of my friend Mark Hemmings, and is from his Mannequin series. I thought it was appropriate that this mannequin is in a posture of prayer. It reminds me of us: it is only a posture, but there is no substance. We are not yet real. We are not yet alive because we refuse to die.
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I’m reading an interesting book, James Ogilvy’s, Living Without A Goal
I have come to believe that a life enslaved to a single Goal, no matter how noble, becomes a mechanism rather than an organism, a business plan rather than a biography, a tool rather than a gift.
I do realize that we set some goals for ourselves, such as when to set the alarm clock for, what direction to go to work, whether to use oil on canvas or watercolor on paper, what degree to apply for, whether to stay happily married to this girl or not, etc. However, as Ogilvy would agree, to set an overarching Goal that we enslave ourselves to leads to a mechanical kind of life. A friend recently told me they read that we should live our lives like a clock. Set goals and arduously meet these goals no matter what! Schedule every minute of your day and achieve what you intend! That’s a mechanical lifestyle that I think is intended for mental illness or leads to it. Rather, we can live our lives artistically. Creatively. Spontaneously. Mysteriously. Not all our actions have to be a means to some end. Instead of trying to manipulate the world, we can begin by appreciating it.
In fact, I would argue that the most creative life is the kind of life that doesn’t enslave itself to a Grand and Comprehensive Goal because the creative urge isn’t sublimated to this Goal. My most creative paintings happen when I just start painting without the end product in mind. Often, when I do plan and plot a painting, it becomes dry and artificial. Manufactured. I happen to believe that the most original and imaginative art is filled with what I call happy accidents.
This applies not only to my personal life, but to the corporate life of our community. The best moments in the life of our community have been accidental. Unplanned. Spontaneous. They have been creative moments, both in their inception as well as in their fruit. This doesn’t mean we don’t plan to meet, say, on Sunday morning. But we try to leave what happens that morning quite open and loose. Even the overall life of the community: we plan to stay a community, but how we live that out is full of adventure, risk and surprise.
The creative fine art photograph is by my friend Howard Nowlan.
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I usually get up very early in the morning and sit by my window overlooking the river while I have my coffee. I use that time to meditate before I start my first lap of painting early in the day before anyone else gets up. However, I detected movement in my backyard and noticed these two fawns grazing and relaxing there. They are beautiful and graceful creatures. It gave me a sense of peace and serenity. I watched them for a long time. One even lied down to rest for a while as the other one kept grazing.
Sure, there seems to be so much to get riled over. There is lots to concern us and tons to be anxious about. Somehow this all misses the point, doesn’t it? Even my frustrations over the church fade in the light of simple beauty. There is a place of peace. There is a profound simplicity to be found and in which to abide. All the storms and assaults of life continue. But isn’t there a deep place of sanctuary where all the conflicting currents ultimately can’t affect us? Isn’t there a vast geography of profound blessing that is full of benediction and peace? Yes, I believe there is, but we must discover it! And it is at once desert and oasis, both terrible and serene.
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David Hayward is a pastor artistically stripping to the essential.
