My Spiritual Pilgrimage

For those who do not check my other site (Emerging Christianity) I am printing this article here on worldspeak as well. Not that I can blame anyone for not checking there - I'm a pretty mediocre blogger when it comes to... well... actually blogging!

The following is part of an essay I am working on for my application to George Fox Seminary in Portland (which I'm very excited about!). Next year, I'll actually have the opportunity to take a class taught by Brian McLaren AND one by Len Sweet the following semester! Whew... it's like a theo-intellectual-brain-SPLOSION!

Ahem... moving on...

Glimpses of my Spiritual Pilgrimage
“Truth is the opposite of grace,” my pastor began this morning’s sermon. I jerked my head up from the church bulletin and looked around to see if anyone else seemed bothered by the statement. I must have said “no it isn’t!” a little too loud. The woman next to me leaned in and said, “it’s really profound when you think about it. Truth keeps grace from going too far!”

Going too far? Grace? Does God want to keep grace in check? Should we make sure Jesus doesn’t extend more than is reasonable? I bit my tongue and tried to sit still. Questions rolled through my brain all morning, and while my pastor was only trying to demonstrate the need for both in a balanced Christianity, his verbiage placed grace and truth in opposition to one another.

I attend the closest thing to a megachurch in Albany, Oregon. First Assembly of God boasts about 1,400 members and more than 2,000 attendees each Sunday. The church has a state-of-the-art sound system, dynamic PowerPoint presentations, and nine full time pastors on staff...

Every Sunday I leave that massive building filled with frustration, sorrow and an increasing sense of disenchantment.

By most accounts I’ve achieved what any church status-seeker (myself in younger years) could hope for: I’m known by everyone in our congregation, I volunteer in a successful youth ministry, I lead drama ministries for youth and adults, I sing with our praise and worship team on stage each Sunday. I am popular!

But each day brings desperation for authenticity closer to my lips. Every Sunday coaxes my frustration nearer my tongue. I fear such indignation might move me beyond balanced criticism, toward radical rebuke. One day I’m afraid my heart’s cry for genuine community will erupt and I’ll lose all the respect and esteem I’ve gained. But Jesus had little esteem in His life, and respect? I don’t think His closest friends and family ever offered the unending honor and reverence He deserved.

God, help me never come to think that I deserve respect or esteem in light of the life of Jesus Christ!

But back to the journey - the pilgrimage our Lord is walking me through. I think it begins and ends with more love. I guess you could call it my nonviolent battle cry. I find myself getting caught up in hyper-intellectualism and endless exegesis, and then look up from my books and notes and realize how long it’s been since I sat with old non-Christian friends over a beer at McMennamin’s Pub and listened to the stories of their lives. How long has it been since I sat in a tight circle of young men from my church and poured out my heart, in turn receiving theirs, growing and supporting and praying for one another? Sometimes it’s only been a few days. Other times, it’s been weeks, and I know I must return to more love.

Genuine community: that is where Christianity manifests this love at its best. Sharing and caring. Sadly, I often feel that Sunday mornings become the greatest enemy of authentic Christianity. It’s hard for me to get into others’ lives when their cautious response is always, “I’m fine.” Big plastic smiles, nice cars, clean homes... white-washed refrigerators filled with non-alcoholic beverages.

Now, before I come across as overzealous or unstable (is it too late for that?) I want to talk about why I love my church and why I could manage to keep attending at the same place for another ten years without having a meltdown. It’s easy and it comes back to loving people: more love.

I love the Body of Christ. On Wednesday nights I have the incredible privilege of leading a Bible Study for highschool youth. Over the last six months we’ve been venturing through the life of Jesus in four different translations/interpretations. I’ve found that it’s not so much the profundity of newer translations that give these kids a better view of scripture. It’s merely hearing things in a way their ears are not yet accustomed to. By breaking through cultural and generational walls, I’ve watched young eyes light up at the wisdom and truth canonized in the Gospel. It’s exciting and validating, and it keeps me going back to church on Sundays, just so I can maintain the privilege of leading on Wednesdays (it’s Sunday evening now, as I write this, and much of my fire from the morning has softened. Again, I’m looking forward to ministry in the coming week).

I don’t know where my spiritual pilgrimage will take me. Sometimes I expect to find myself behind a pulpit. Other times I think the monastic life looks pretty appealing (though I would desperately miss my fiancé!). Always, I am trying to run from the extremities of fundamentalism, dodge the temptations of universalism, and reach toward the pure audacity of unconditional love.

And I can never move from certainty that all the inherent fruits and textures of absolute love converge, in every way, with the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.