Guilty as Charged
My story isn't unique. I grew up immersed in church and Christian culture. A parishioner from birth, Christian school attendee from Kindergarten to 12th grade, Baptist college graduate. The progression of life by activity: Sunday school, Awana club, youth group, Bible studies, See You at the Pole, 30 hour famine, soup kitchen volunteer, Walk for Life, Creation fest, True Love Waits, missions trips, and too many outreach events to count.
Listen: I did all.the.things. I was a Jesus freak. But there came a crippling aftereffect: It took me ages to be able to separate Jesus' truth -the for real WORDS of the Bible- from the expectations, opinions, and restrictions of the institutions (and people within) that taught me about Him.
Let me condense this-
The overarching gospel message: We are broken people. Human effort cannot fix this innate sinfulness -no amount of self control, supplication, or spiritual acts can mend our natural bent towards selfishness, pride, greed, fear, and hatred. We are on a path towards destruction. So Jesus, the sinless God-man and revered teacher, became the perfect sacrifice for us. His death and resurrection paved a way for ultimate reconciliation with God, a cure for our sick souls. We simply need to recognize and accept Jesus' redemptive gift on our behalf. And after being "born again" into Christian faith, new believers can actively begin walking the walk -through the imparted power of the Holy Spirit- by digging into the Bible and using principles revealed there to guide and govern their lives.
The veiled institutional message: Okay cool, you love God. Let us inform you of a few necessary actions that adequately demonstrate you are worthy of Him.
Perhaps you understand my confusion, considering those mixed (opposing!) messages.
{An aside: My parents absolutely did NOT fuel any of this nonsense. I am lucky. Our home was Switzerland, a neutral, unbiased support for its inhabitants. Most aforementioned activities were completely of MY choosing, the devout pursuits of a dedicated teen. And I certainly gained value from involvement in many of these things, even the cringe-ier ones. But creeping under that value came a longstanding muddled morality, the inability to clearly define the outline of Jesus' doctrine apart from the position of a particular religious program or institution.}
My Colorado bestie, Jessica, said it best, "Sometimes I think that if I hadn't grown up in the church, it would be easier for me to believe in Jesus as an adult."
That resonated with me. Deeply. I wanted to gently whisper life and truth into the ears of all the Lauras from years past:
My darling past self, I am sorry. People who claimed God's name -and stood in place of His authority- gave you guilt instead of grace. Over and over.
Now peek through the lens of me being a white, middle-class, straight female. Who maintained good grades and good behavior because of her (firstborn) tendency towards perfectionism and following rules. What if we changed just one of those factors? Race? Social status? What if an eyebrow ring-ed teenager from foster care, who lacked any roots in the church, wanted to serve in a ministry circa 1998? What if she was bi-racial? With body odor or ill-fitting clothes? Do you think she would've warranted a "come to Jesus" talk like I did? Or, because of churchy concerns over optics, would she have been outright dismissed for superficial reasons beyond her control? Reasons that would have led Jesus straight to her doorstep, as He had a tendency to pursue the lonely, the outsiders, and the uncouth fishermen of His day.
Side note: I wonder what awaits the people and institutions that have knowingly, repeatedly, and maliciously distorted the heart of Jesus' ministry for their own purposes? My guess is that it ain't gonna be cute.
Honesty is where I shine. People complement my raw, forthcoming manner. But with each interaction, blog post, or revelation, guilt and expectation ALWAYS sit front and center in my brain box. Shouting down shame, questioning why I'm not performing more or acting any better. My mental critic never sleeps. Never. Especially since Margot died....and grief became a natural, but transformative part of our lives. The outside (and internal) pressure to pretend we're OKAY is huge. (PS We buried our miracle a year ago. A.Year. We aren't -and won't ever be- fully healed.) It would be easier, clearly, if we were ACTUALLY okay. If faith wasn't an equation that we're too ill-equipped (and traumatized) to solve. As much as we would LOVE to disregard our emotions and continue on towing the typical Christian routines and mindset, it's inauthentic presently. We *could* sing the songs and do the things and "act right." We could. But who would we be doing it for?
My counselor Missy and I circle this topic often. Because I am incredibly burdened about it. I'll say to her, "I want to WANT TO go to church. I want to WANT TO worship. More than anything, I want to WANT TO express belief the way I did before." And she -like the great therapist she is- gently prods deeper, "Why do you want those things, Laura?" I pause for a beat and answer, "Because I should."
Should indicates duty. A "supposed to." An obligation. Missy says that "should" and my extreme sense of guilt are BFFs. They feed off each other to create impossible standards, making defeat inevitable. Which weakens resolve. Which fuels guilt, pushing my wounded but rule-following spirit back to "should." The cycle is crushing. So, we're done with it for awhile. Not done with Jesus, never done with Him, but definitely taking a break from the typical American routines of faith.
Elijah likes going to youth group and also attending a church club, Royal Rangers. (Which we've not-so-secretly nicknamed "Boy Scouts for Jesus.") As long as he continues to enjoy these things, we're happy have him be involved. Right now, he's working on the Royal Ranger merit badge for Bible. During a recent visit with family friends, E offhandedly criticized himself for falling behind in the badge's Bible reading plan. Between us moms, my girlfriend commented on his self discipline. I quickly corrected her. "No, that's not self discipline. It's a fear-based firstborn urge to achieve, not disappoint. And I am trying my hardest to squash it now. Especially with church stuff." Despite this difficult season, we still hope -as his name, sweet heart and sensitive spirit suggest- that Elijah will grow up to be a man of God. Not because he should. But because he was launched -and sustained forward- in this journey by Love Himself.
Listen: I did all.the.things. I was a Jesus freak. But there came a crippling aftereffect: It took me ages to be able to separate Jesus' truth -the for real WORDS of the Bible- from the expectations, opinions, and restrictions of the institutions (and people within) that taught me about Him.
Let me condense this-
The overarching gospel message: We are broken people. Human effort cannot fix this innate sinfulness -no amount of self control, supplication, or spiritual acts can mend our natural bent towards selfishness, pride, greed, fear, and hatred. We are on a path towards destruction. So Jesus, the sinless God-man and revered teacher, became the perfect sacrifice for us. His death and resurrection paved a way for ultimate reconciliation with God, a cure for our sick souls. We simply need to recognize and accept Jesus' redemptive gift on our behalf. And after being "born again" into Christian faith, new believers can actively begin walking the walk -through the imparted power of the Holy Spirit- by digging into the Bible and using principles revealed there to guide and govern their lives.
The veiled institutional message: Okay cool, you love God. Let us inform you of a few necessary actions that adequately demonstrate you are worthy of Him.
Perhaps you understand my confusion, considering those mixed (opposing!) messages.
{An aside: My parents absolutely did NOT fuel any of this nonsense. I am lucky. Our home was Switzerland, a neutral, unbiased support for its inhabitants. Most aforementioned activities were completely of MY choosing, the devout pursuits of a dedicated teen. And I certainly gained value from involvement in many of these things, even the cringe-ier ones. But creeping under that value came a longstanding muddled morality, the inability to clearly define the outline of Jesus' doctrine apart from the position of a particular religious program or institution.}
My Colorado bestie, Jessica, said it best, "Sometimes I think that if I hadn't grown up in the church, it would be easier for me to believe in Jesus as an adult."
That resonated with me. Deeply. I wanted to gently whisper life and truth into the ears of all the Lauras from years past:
Teenaged Laura cautioned to take off her studded leather choker during the school day, as it was deemed "inappropriate" by school standards.
High school Laura signing a purity pledge, getting the ring, commodifying her virginity.
Eleventh grade Laura sitting in school chapel, watching a very pregnant school mate apologize for her obvious "sin" to an assembly of her equally sinful and (most likely) sexually active classmates and peers.
Nearly college Laura being pulled aside by her pastor and informed that she couldn't help with children's services at church, unless her tongue piercing was removed.
College freshman Laura getting pink slipped for not attending enough required church services.
College senior Laura's acceptance into the yearly campus literary publication, hinging upon her elimination of the word "shit" from the submitted poem.
Young married Laura crying on her honeymoon, frustrated over a lack of knowledge about this once forbidden, now miraculously allowable AND BIBLICAL, act of sex.
Toddler mom Laura working part-time at an assistance ministry for unplanned pregnancies. During a job training, being told by a co-worker that her use of birth control in early marriage attributed to her current infertility and had likely caused multiple miscarriages.
Devastated Laura, mourning the death of her daughter, receiving a card stating, "God needed Margot more than you did."
My darling past self, I am sorry. People who claimed God's name -and stood in place of His authority- gave you guilt instead of grace. Over and over.
Now peek through the lens of me being a white, middle-class, straight female. Who maintained good grades and good behavior because of her (firstborn) tendency towards perfectionism and following rules. What if we changed just one of those factors? Race? Social status? What if an eyebrow ring-ed teenager from foster care, who lacked any roots in the church, wanted to serve in a ministry circa 1998? What if she was bi-racial? With body odor or ill-fitting clothes? Do you think she would've warranted a "come to Jesus" talk like I did? Or, because of churchy concerns over optics, would she have been outright dismissed for superficial reasons beyond her control? Reasons that would have led Jesus straight to her doorstep, as He had a tendency to pursue the lonely, the outsiders, and the uncouth fishermen of His day.
 |
| Rebel WITH a cause. |
Side note: I wonder what awaits the people and institutions that have knowingly, repeatedly, and maliciously distorted the heart of Jesus' ministry for their own purposes? My guess is that it ain't gonna be cute.
Honesty is where I shine. People complement my raw, forthcoming manner. But with each interaction, blog post, or revelation, guilt and expectation ALWAYS sit front and center in my brain box. Shouting down shame, questioning why I'm not performing more or acting any better. My mental critic never sleeps. Never. Especially since Margot died....and grief became a natural, but transformative part of our lives. The outside (and internal) pressure to pretend we're OKAY is huge. (PS We buried our miracle a year ago. A.Year. We aren't -and won't ever be- fully healed.) It would be easier, clearly, if we were ACTUALLY okay. If faith wasn't an equation that we're too ill-equipped (and traumatized) to solve. As much as we would LOVE to disregard our emotions and continue on towing the typical Christian routines and mindset, it's inauthentic presently. We *could* sing the songs and do the things and "act right." We could. But who would we be doing it for?
My counselor Missy and I circle this topic often. Because I am incredibly burdened about it. I'll say to her, "I want to WANT TO go to church. I want to WANT TO worship. More than anything, I want to WANT TO express belief the way I did before." And she -like the great therapist she is- gently prods deeper, "Why do you want those things, Laura?" I pause for a beat and answer, "Because I should."
Should indicates duty. A "supposed to." An obligation. Missy says that "should" and my extreme sense of guilt are BFFs. They feed off each other to create impossible standards, making defeat inevitable. Which weakens resolve. Which fuels guilt, pushing my wounded but rule-following spirit back to "should." The cycle is crushing. So, we're done with it for awhile. Not done with Jesus, never done with Him, but definitely taking a break from the typical American routines of faith.
Elijah likes going to youth group and also attending a church club, Royal Rangers. (Which we've not-so-secretly nicknamed "Boy Scouts for Jesus.") As long as he continues to enjoy these things, we're happy have him be involved. Right now, he's working on the Royal Ranger merit badge for Bible. During a recent visit with family friends, E offhandedly criticized himself for falling behind in the badge's Bible reading plan. Between us moms, my girlfriend commented on his self discipline. I quickly corrected her. "No, that's not self discipline. It's a fear-based firstborn urge to achieve, not disappoint. And I am trying my hardest to squash it now. Especially with church stuff." Despite this difficult season, we still hope -as his name, sweet heart and sensitive spirit suggest- that Elijah will grow up to be a man of God. Not because he should. But because he was launched -and sustained forward- in this journey by Love Himself.
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