Soul Survivor by Philip Yancey

The church is meant to be a place where sinners find Jesus and learn to love each other in unity on a journey toward become saints.  Unfortunately, the church remains filled with sinners who often devolve toward infighting and arrogance.  Those who grow up confused by the disparity between what is taught and what is lived out can be tempted to leave all of Christianity behind.

Although my church past is not as horrifying as Yancey’s, I still struggle to reconcile the strains of legalism and divisiveness that I was taught alongside grace and love.  Reading Soul Survivor was like taking a gulp of fresh air as I was encouraged to leave the bad behind and cling only to the good.

Yancey’s spiritual growth largely came from looking outside of the church to social reform leaders and literary geniuses.  As a soft-hearted bibliophile, I was utterly won over by his thirteen spiritual directors.  Much like the men and women described in the Bible, the people who most affected Yancey are complicated people who pursued the difficult life of forgiveness and reconciliation while also committing affairs and battling depression.  They are not perfect people, but they wrestled with God.  Unwilling to accept easy answers or the status quo, the people who fill Soul Survivor‘s pages are so inspiring.  I’m so grateful to Philip Yancey for his honest recollection of his past as well as his offering of spiritual giants to learn from and emulate.  Continue reading

A Fully Realized Christian Hope Counteracts the Cynicism of Postmodernism and Legalism

I grew up in two worlds: the postmodern culture of my public education and the isolationist culture of my church. Although I was not consciously aware of the secular culture in which I grew up, it influenced me all the same, both implicitly shaping me and as I explicitly reacted against it. On the positive side, postmodernism taught me to value individual experiences and to look on the world with wonder at the multitudes of cultures and belief systems around the world. On the negative side, I internalized a belief that I could never fully be sure of anything. This applied to friendships, family members, and truth. I became a cynical person who doubted people’s love and wondered if I had any purpose in life. Although I was a loud-and-proud Christian at my public school, the theology I parroted rarely took root on an emotional level to counteract these fears.

In fact, although my church tried to offer hope in the face of a “sinful” culture, the theology I learned only exacerbated the loneliness and detachment of postmodernism.  I was taught a theology that was centered upon the cross in hope of a future in heaven. I learned about the depth of love Jesus had for us by dying a horrific death in atonement for our sins. I had a guilt-based relationship with God in which I feared every new sin I committed would crucify Jesus all over again. The only hope, I believed, was in heaven. This world was entirely awful, and I certainly was not capable of making things better. Therefore, I looked forward to the day when I would be dead and blissfully happy in heaven, a nebulous place of whites and golds where I knew my sin-stained self would be able to see Jesus face-to-face. Continue reading

Good Friday

Tonight is Good Friday.  I asked to get off work early so I could go to church, where everyone wore black in anticipation of our mourning.  Our service was somber, lights dimmed, people hushed.  People read the story of Jesus’s arrest, trial, and murder, not as a skit, but as something more than a recitation.  The story was interspersed with music, sometimes performed by a choir, by the congregation, by a soloist.

I’ve been learning about the value of walking through Holy Week one day at a time.  Too often we jump to Easter, because it is easier to focus on good news and hope and life than to let ourselves sit with disappointment, rejection, fear, and death.  But I think it is valuable to walk with Jesus and put ourselves in the shoes of those who knew him, listened to him, trusted in him, and watched him die.  Continue reading

Holy Week

I often forget to celebrate Holy Week.  Sometimes this is for amazing reasons–like a visiting friend who brings me so much joy.  Sometimes this is for dumb reasons–like being anxious about the future and how to make hard decisions.  And I think God is patient with me, understanding my distractions, waiting for me to realize the gift He’s given the Church in walking through Holy Week year after year after year.

On Palm Sunday, we celebrate Christ as humble King, entering the city not on a military horse but on a plodding donkey.  At my church, we walked down the aisle with palm branches, laid them on the alter, and took Communion from our elders.  We were encouraged to symbolically lay down something along with the palm branch, and I gave up control.  Or rather, for one moment I gave up control, hoping that God would honor that fleeting moment of trust and see my heart that is scared and doubtful but so desperate to lean on Him.  Then I took the bread and the wine, looking back at what Jesus did for the world so that I can look forward to what He will do when He returns.  In all this, Christ is King.  He is in control.  Continue reading

A Prayer for Change

I’ve grown to really like prayers written by other people.  I have written before about my love for St. Francis’s famous prayer (made into song by Sarah McLachlan).  The thing is, when I pray my own prayers, I usually do one of two things:  1) ramble, or 2) repeat “Help me!” or “Thank you!”  Anne Lamott’s book about prayer, Help, Thanks, Wow helped me see that this is not actually a bad thing…still, it’s nice praying thoughts that have been lovingly and carefully shaped by someone else.

I have a pocket edition of the Book of Common Prayer, and in it lies a prayer that consistently gives me peace and courage.  It’s titled “Major Life Transition,” so obviously it is especially relevant right now.  May it encourage you as it has encouraged me.  Continue reading

Sharing My Faith

Growing up in conservative Christianity, I attended an annual conference where I learned to share my faith so that strangers might convert and find salvation in Jesus Christ in less than two minutes.  I’ve changed the way I share my faith, but I don’t want to ignore the fact that some good things came from this conference.

Most importantly, condensing my faith into a two-minute speech did help me conceptualize the basic framework of Christianity by highlighting the overarching story revealed in the Bible.  The weekend retreats also provided an opportunity for me to combine faith and fun as my friends and I goofed off and worshiped simultaneously.  And because God is good, I know he used our efforts to bring hope and even salvation to some people’s lives.

The details of the conference were solid.  The big picture, however, is where I now disagree.  I was taught an evangelism tactic that was based in fear and presented as a formula.  Today, I try to share my faith out of love in the midst of relationships.  Continue reading

I Guess I’m Not Suitable for Marriage

My corner of Facebook has been fixated on this article by NYCpastor entitled “10 Women Christian Men Should Not Marry.”  Since I meet more than half of the criteria that supposedly makes me unworthy to catch a Christian man’s eye, I thought I would spend some time interacting with the material.  Feel free to read his article before continuing.  I will list his 10 deal breakers, but the words after are mine.

1)  The Unbeliever.
Alright, so on this one quality, NYCpastor and I agree.  I think people do best to marry someone from their same faith, and even more, to marry someone whose faith is of similar importance to them.  My Christianity informs everything I do and hope for, and is therefore a huge part of my personality, motivation, and time.  Marrying someone who doesn’t understand or share that passion is going to make for an increasingly disconnected relationship.  So sure, marry someone of your same faith (or lack of faith).  I think that’s wise.

2)  The Divorcee.
As a counselor, I have seen female clients who experienced abuse in their marriages.  Two of my friends work at a domestic violence counseling center, and the women they work with have suffered horrifically brutal lives at the hands of their husbands.  This is Texas, so often those husbands claim to be Christians.  I’m not a fan of NYCpastor’s ignoring the very real fact that 1 in 4 women will experience domestic violence during their lifetime.  Writing divorced women off as inherently unappealing when they might be escaped survivors of intense trauma bothers me.  Continue reading