“The church is precisely that against which Jesus preached- and against which he taught his disciples to fight” (Friedrich Nietzche)
Over the next few weeks I am going to submit a series of short blogs that explore some of the fundamental problems of the institutionalized church as I saw them as an employee of the church. The topics will be broad and will attempt to avoid criticism that relate to specific issues that may or may not be present a given church (such as 50 year old pastors who look like they do all their shopping at Structures for Men). After that I would like to begin writing over the theological issues that are shaping my faith, but because I would like to develop them to some extent I am going to stick with something that comes pretty easy to me: saying what is wrong with what shaped my old spiritual identity. Just kidding. These criticisms are not intended to be an indictment of the institution, simple a concise description of how I see the institution flawed. It is so important to move from just leaving something to embracing something new, but there is value in identifying what you are leaving so that you can know what you need to embrace. I will put a little bit of time working on these entries, but for the most part these were written back when I was still working in the church and were saved on my computer. From the time that I originally wrote them I have matured my beliefs about them and will edit that when possible, but these were my feelings as a person who worked in the church and for the church. The topics will be:
· Institutional Maintenance
· Modern Trappings
· Irrelevant Doctrine
· Inability to Change
· Extrinsic Values
· Sacred and Secular Gap
In the meantime enjoy the video below.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
FUNDAMENTAL PROBLEMS
“The church is precisely that against which Jesus preached- and against which he taught his disciples to fight” (Friedrich Nietzche)
Over the next few weeks I am going to submit a series of short blogs that explore some of the fundamental problems of the institutionalized church as I saw them as an employee of the church. The topics will be broad and will attempt to avoid criticism that relate to specific issues that may or may not be present a given church (such as 50 year old pastors who look like they do all their shopping at Structures for Men). After that I would like to begin writing over the theological issues that are shaping my faith, but because I would like to develop them to some extent I am going to stick with something that comes pretty easy to me: saying what is wrong with what shaped my old spiritual identity. Just kidding. These criticisms are not intended to be an indictment of the institution, simple a concise description of how I see the institution flawed. It is so important to move from just leaving something to embracing something new, but there is value in identifying what you are leaving so that you can know what you need to embrace. I will put a little bit of time working on these entries, but for the most part these were written back when I was still working in the church and were saved on my computer. From the time that I originally wrote them I have matured my beliefs about them and will edit that when possible, but these were my feelings as a person who worked in the church and for the church. The topics will be:
· Institutional Maintenance
· Modern Trappings
· Irrelevant Doctrine
· Inability to Change
· Extrinsic Values
· Sacred and Secular Gap
In the meantime enjoy the video below.
Over the next few weeks I am going to submit a series of short blogs that explore some of the fundamental problems of the institutionalized church as I saw them as an employee of the church. The topics will be broad and will attempt to avoid criticism that relate to specific issues that may or may not be present a given church (such as 50 year old pastors who look like they do all their shopping at Structures for Men). After that I would like to begin writing over the theological issues that are shaping my faith, but because I would like to develop them to some extent I am going to stick with something that comes pretty easy to me: saying what is wrong with what shaped my old spiritual identity. Just kidding. These criticisms are not intended to be an indictment of the institution, simple a concise description of how I see the institution flawed. It is so important to move from just leaving something to embracing something new, but there is value in identifying what you are leaving so that you can know what you need to embrace. I will put a little bit of time working on these entries, but for the most part these were written back when I was still working in the church and were saved on my computer. From the time that I originally wrote them I have matured my beliefs about them and will edit that when possible, but these were my feelings as a person who worked in the church and for the church. The topics will be:
· Institutional Maintenance
· Modern Trappings
· Irrelevant Doctrine
· Inability to Change
· Extrinsic Values
· Sacred and Secular Gap
In the meantime enjoy the video below.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
THE THERAPY OF CYNICISM
“Cynicism is the only form in which base souls approach honesty.” (Friedrich Nietzche)
About six months before I was fired from my last full time ministry position I had all but quit anyway. I was there physically and was still engaged in ministry with a few of my students, but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually I was gone. After I was fired there were a lot of people who came to my defense, but deep down I knew that the church did for me what I couldn’t do for myself. I was so exhausted and frustrated by the institution that I was useless to it and my students. What I perceived as being thrown under the bus to protect others did sting though, but it only reinforced what I had already come to believe about the church. In those six months leading up to my dismissal I had already began speaking against tithing and other institutional elements. I was openly (yet kindly) challenging the senior pastor in staff meetings on priorities. And I was having a harder time encouraging new students to become part of something that I thought was so broken. After I was fired I was completely jaded. I was fed up with the whole system and was openly defiant regarding professional ministry and the structure of the organization (I was no longer calling it a church by the way). I spent approximately two years questioning everything that I ever believed and everything that I ever thought about my “calling.” I even went through a fairly significant period of intermittent doubt of and anger toward God. However, slowly and without my awareness, the cynicism faded. There still weren’t many things about the organization that I liked, but what I did like I was beginning to miss. The things I criticized I still felt were just as wrong as ever, but my opinions toward those instituting them began to soften. My interests moved in the direction of assessing the church more than judging it.
Very few people would advocate for sustained cynicism, but perhaps there is some value in temporary cynicism. It was my cynicism that helped me think critically about my frustrations and embrace a new belief system that I feel has greater integrity and authenticity. And it was, for better or worse, cynicism that sustained me when my entire world view no longer fit. That is why I don’t regret my period of cynicism after immediately leaving the church. But there comes a time when you have to move past the cynicism and embrace something new. In 2006, Psychology Today published an article called, “A Field Guide to the Cynic.” The article does acknowledge that an on-going cynical outlook causes a nihilistic and self-destructive lifestyle and that cynics are generally unhealthier people, but the article goes on to suggest that a small dose of cynicism can be very beneficial. Citing Philip Mirvis, a cynicism researcher at Boston College, the article states, “[cynics’] detached outlook on life, also known as defensive pessimism, helps ‘protect them from what they imagine to be the slings and arrows of hustlers and higher-ups.’ If they assume from the outset that a client can't be trusted, or that a new mother-in-law will be a witch, they'll be well prepared in the event these fears come true.” Cynics’ skeptical perspective reduces emotional attachment to uncontrollable situations and reduces the risk of depression. Cynics also have a social value in that they can, “spot setups and snow jobs before the rest of us.” The article even gives some advice on how to be an optimistic cynic including: rule out depression, be selectively cynical, seek out fellow cynics, and do little things to make a difference.
So is optimism the opposite of cynicism? I don’t think so since cynics aren’t necessarily pessimistic. Cynicism is more than a disposition and so I don’t think it is an issue of being positive of negative. I think the issue is a spiritual one. I think cynicism is about trust (or the lack there of). And maybe even an issue of misplaced trust. My cynical perspectives on the church weren’t because I saw clearly the flaws of the organization, but because I trusted in that organization in ways that were unhealthy. The organization perpetuates this misplaced trust and in that regard its own worst enemy. Its constant message that the organization itself has certain authority and inherent community is of much more about its sense of entitlement and church growth strategies than anything else. But nevertheless, it was ultimately my misplaced trust. My less bitter attitude toward the church is much less about a revised perspective on the church and more so on a repositioning of where my trust must be and to what degree one should place trust in an organization. As I have spent my time away from the institution I have been able to seek Christ and community more purposefully and develop a trust that is rooted in the faithfulness of Christ not in what I expected the church to do in or for me. As I enter a stage when I am beginning to reengage the church I do so with my arms outstretched and at arm’s length.
When, then, is it time to move past the cynicism? I don’t think there is an answer for this. The theology of the institution would be immediately, but that is just not fair to the one who has become jaded. I have, however, come to learn over the last year that forgiveness is actually pretty easy once you decide you are ready to do it. It is important for those who have become jaded by the church or worst abused by the church, to move fairly quickly to a place of forgiveness. But trust is a very different thing. Rebuilding trust can take months, years, or decades. The cynicism won’t fade until the trust is regained and placed appropriately. Criticizing people’s cynicism toward the church will only widen the gap. If the church really wants to win over the jaded they have to prove they are worth being trusted while sharing in the journey of placing final trust in God. Meanwhile, those who have become jaded by the church must keep in mind that trust is earned, but that it takes the willingness of the one who has lost trust for it to be earned back. And I would also advice against giving up on your cynicism completely. I am often labeled a cynic by those in the institution, but I consider myself an optimistic realist- one who advocates in what should be. My cynicism is slowly fading against the church but my criticism will likely never fade and will perhaps resurge as I consider becoming part of the organization again. Sorry future home church.
About six months before I was fired from my last full time ministry position I had all but quit anyway. I was there physically and was still engaged in ministry with a few of my students, but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually I was gone. After I was fired there were a lot of people who came to my defense, but deep down I knew that the church did for me what I couldn’t do for myself. I was so exhausted and frustrated by the institution that I was useless to it and my students. What I perceived as being thrown under the bus to protect others did sting though, but it only reinforced what I had already come to believe about the church. In those six months leading up to my dismissal I had already began speaking against tithing and other institutional elements. I was openly (yet kindly) challenging the senior pastor in staff meetings on priorities. And I was having a harder time encouraging new students to become part of something that I thought was so broken. After I was fired I was completely jaded. I was fed up with the whole system and was openly defiant regarding professional ministry and the structure of the organization (I was no longer calling it a church by the way). I spent approximately two years questioning everything that I ever believed and everything that I ever thought about my “calling.” I even went through a fairly significant period of intermittent doubt of and anger toward God. However, slowly and without my awareness, the cynicism faded. There still weren’t many things about the organization that I liked, but what I did like I was beginning to miss. The things I criticized I still felt were just as wrong as ever, but my opinions toward those instituting them began to soften. My interests moved in the direction of assessing the church more than judging it.
Very few people would advocate for sustained cynicism, but perhaps there is some value in temporary cynicism. It was my cynicism that helped me think critically about my frustrations and embrace a new belief system that I feel has greater integrity and authenticity. And it was, for better or worse, cynicism that sustained me when my entire world view no longer fit. That is why I don’t regret my period of cynicism after immediately leaving the church. But there comes a time when you have to move past the cynicism and embrace something new. In 2006, Psychology Today published an article called, “A Field Guide to the Cynic.” The article does acknowledge that an on-going cynical outlook causes a nihilistic and self-destructive lifestyle and that cynics are generally unhealthier people, but the article goes on to suggest that a small dose of cynicism can be very beneficial. Citing Philip Mirvis, a cynicism researcher at Boston College, the article states, “[cynics’] detached outlook on life, also known as defensive pessimism, helps ‘protect them from what they imagine to be the slings and arrows of hustlers and higher-ups.’ If they assume from the outset that a client can't be trusted, or that a new mother-in-law will be a witch, they'll be well prepared in the event these fears come true.” Cynics’ skeptical perspective reduces emotional attachment to uncontrollable situations and reduces the risk of depression. Cynics also have a social value in that they can, “spot setups and snow jobs before the rest of us.” The article even gives some advice on how to be an optimistic cynic including: rule out depression, be selectively cynical, seek out fellow cynics, and do little things to make a difference.
So is optimism the opposite of cynicism? I don’t think so since cynics aren’t necessarily pessimistic. Cynicism is more than a disposition and so I don’t think it is an issue of being positive of negative. I think the issue is a spiritual one. I think cynicism is about trust (or the lack there of). And maybe even an issue of misplaced trust. My cynical perspectives on the church weren’t because I saw clearly the flaws of the organization, but because I trusted in that organization in ways that were unhealthy. The organization perpetuates this misplaced trust and in that regard its own worst enemy. Its constant message that the organization itself has certain authority and inherent community is of much more about its sense of entitlement and church growth strategies than anything else. But nevertheless, it was ultimately my misplaced trust. My less bitter attitude toward the church is much less about a revised perspective on the church and more so on a repositioning of where my trust must be and to what degree one should place trust in an organization. As I have spent my time away from the institution I have been able to seek Christ and community more purposefully and develop a trust that is rooted in the faithfulness of Christ not in what I expected the church to do in or for me. As I enter a stage when I am beginning to reengage the church I do so with my arms outstretched and at arm’s length.
When, then, is it time to move past the cynicism? I don’t think there is an answer for this. The theology of the institution would be immediately, but that is just not fair to the one who has become jaded. I have, however, come to learn over the last year that forgiveness is actually pretty easy once you decide you are ready to do it. It is important for those who have become jaded by the church or worst abused by the church, to move fairly quickly to a place of forgiveness. But trust is a very different thing. Rebuilding trust can take months, years, or decades. The cynicism won’t fade until the trust is regained and placed appropriately. Criticizing people’s cynicism toward the church will only widen the gap. If the church really wants to win over the jaded they have to prove they are worth being trusted while sharing in the journey of placing final trust in God. Meanwhile, those who have become jaded by the church must keep in mind that trust is earned, but that it takes the willingness of the one who has lost trust for it to be earned back. And I would also advice against giving up on your cynicism completely. I am often labeled a cynic by those in the institution, but I consider myself an optimistic realist- one who advocates in what should be. My cynicism is slowly fading against the church but my criticism will likely never fade and will perhaps resurge as I consider becoming part of the organization again. Sorry future home church.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
LONELINESS
“Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.” (Henry Rollins)
I am basically a lonely person. I have a lot of good friends, my family all lives here and we get together regularly, my wife and kids are great, I like to laugh and have a good time, and I think that I am pretty funny and warm, but by nature, I am a lonely person. I always have been. When I was younger I used to interpret my introversion and self-reflection as rejection. As I have gotten a little older I have started to appreciate my melancholy disposition, but there is one area where I have not quite been able to find peace with this part of me. My attempts at connecting with God are often full of frustration and disappointment. This frustration will usually lead me down the road toward some form of nihilistic doubt that will, at least temporarily, cause me to feel isolated. This sense of spiritual loneliness was never appreciated very much in the church, especially when I was a youth minister. Youth ministers shouldn’t struggle with spiritual loneliness. If he does, he should not bring it with him the youth group. Youth group is expected to be energetic, fun, and wild. Bible studies are expected to be morality-driven relevance. Worship can take a tone of seriousness, but it needs to quickly be followed by something upbeat. And mission work should cause one to be humbled, but by the time the youth returns to the church, the youth minister should have prompted the youth to reflect on the whole experience positively. This modern idea about how one should feel about their spiritual identity can also be found in other areas of the church as well, but my time as a youth minister only made my loneliness that much worse.
In “Reaching Out”, Henri Nouwen addresses loneliness and put it on a continuum with solitude. I will confess that I always have hoped that my spiritual loneliness was just a personal misunderstanding of the discipline of spiritual solitude. Nouwen argues that, “The spiritual life is that constant movement between the poles of loneliness and solitude.” The goal of this critical movement in spirituality from loneliness to solitude is from feelings that I have described in myself to ones of deep intimacy with God marked by contemplation, insight, and intimacy. But the point is that the two are related and that in order to move to deeper levels of solitude then one must periodically return to loneliness. The modern church packages faith as a constant and steady movement from sinner to saint, but the truth is that spiritual maturity is erratic and often static. The movement forward often requires regular movements backward. Growing in one’s faith usually requires a constant struggle with where we came. Ironically, the modern church’s conviction that maturity is constant leads many to feel that they are not maturing at all and misunderstand their struggle. I do struggle with (and will likely always struggle with) loneliness, but I can’t dismiss the work God is doing in me in those times and neglect to experience the solitude that I am beginning to embrace.
Soren Kierkegaard writes that the knight of faith must accept isolation as he strives to make sense of the constant paradox in which he exists. I have no illusion about being a knight of faith, but I would like to think that my experiences with loneliness position me for such a transition.
I am basically a lonely person. I have a lot of good friends, my family all lives here and we get together regularly, my wife and kids are great, I like to laugh and have a good time, and I think that I am pretty funny and warm, but by nature, I am a lonely person. I always have been. When I was younger I used to interpret my introversion and self-reflection as rejection. As I have gotten a little older I have started to appreciate my melancholy disposition, but there is one area where I have not quite been able to find peace with this part of me. My attempts at connecting with God are often full of frustration and disappointment. This frustration will usually lead me down the road toward some form of nihilistic doubt that will, at least temporarily, cause me to feel isolated. This sense of spiritual loneliness was never appreciated very much in the church, especially when I was a youth minister. Youth ministers shouldn’t struggle with spiritual loneliness. If he does, he should not bring it with him the youth group. Youth group is expected to be energetic, fun, and wild. Bible studies are expected to be morality-driven relevance. Worship can take a tone of seriousness, but it needs to quickly be followed by something upbeat. And mission work should cause one to be humbled, but by the time the youth returns to the church, the youth minister should have prompted the youth to reflect on the whole experience positively. This modern idea about how one should feel about their spiritual identity can also be found in other areas of the church as well, but my time as a youth minister only made my loneliness that much worse.
In “Reaching Out”, Henri Nouwen addresses loneliness and put it on a continuum with solitude. I will confess that I always have hoped that my spiritual loneliness was just a personal misunderstanding of the discipline of spiritual solitude. Nouwen argues that, “The spiritual life is that constant movement between the poles of loneliness and solitude.” The goal of this critical movement in spirituality from loneliness to solitude is from feelings that I have described in myself to ones of deep intimacy with God marked by contemplation, insight, and intimacy. But the point is that the two are related and that in order to move to deeper levels of solitude then one must periodically return to loneliness. The modern church packages faith as a constant and steady movement from sinner to saint, but the truth is that spiritual maturity is erratic and often static. The movement forward often requires regular movements backward. Growing in one’s faith usually requires a constant struggle with where we came. Ironically, the modern church’s conviction that maturity is constant leads many to feel that they are not maturing at all and misunderstand their struggle. I do struggle with (and will likely always struggle with) loneliness, but I can’t dismiss the work God is doing in me in those times and neglect to experience the solitude that I am beginning to embrace.
Soren Kierkegaard writes that the knight of faith must accept isolation as he strives to make sense of the constant paradox in which he exists. I have no illusion about being a knight of faith, but I would like to think that my experiences with loneliness position me for such a transition.
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