Beginning at the Beginning all over again

The whirlwind of teaching and church has sucked me in so fiercely that I haven't kept up with the blog as I intended to. I recently started reading all the way through Genesis for the first time in a few years-- definitely for the first time since I "let" the Bible out of the literalist box I'd been taught to put it in. I borrowed a few commentaries from DH and while some of the material is over my head, I am having... dare I say it... fun. Genesis 1 takes on a new beauty when I read it as a hymn or poem. I love it that the writers/compilers/whatevers of Genesis didn't shy away from ambiguity or complexity. What an amazing Book this is.

What I've Learned from Fundagelicals I Know... A Partial List

1. God is scared of the scientific method.
2. God is a wimp, really. Look at all the places we've "kicked him out" of. Schools, city halls. That's why he needs us to protect him.
3. Christ saves all who trust in him and vote Republican.
4. Christ's love is unconditional, on the condition that you don't smoke-drink-curse-have sex-think too much.
5. The Bible is inerrant and literal. Except for all that stuff about the poor.
6. Many people call themselves Christians but really aren't, because they believe some of the wrong things. We are never ever those people.
7. Christianity is so unconvincing that we have to legislate it.
8. Our Christian faith is so shaky that we must isolate ourselves from all non-believers to protect it.
9. Christians value life up until it emerges from the womb. After that, it's your problem.
10. Persecution is the existence of people who disagree with us. It must be eradicated.

If I get ONE MORE THING in my box...

That says "FCAT" anywhere on it, I will revolt. I will bring in shaving cream and finger paint and the kids and I will create weird avant-garde art and refuse to even LOOK at a bubble sheet.

It might work.

The persona crumbles

Sometimes in spending time with the youth group kids from our church, I feel myself regressing to the thirteen-year-old who is still somewhere deep down desperate for approval from the cool kids. I hate this feeling, so I construct a careful facade when I head to a youth event. I'm a grown-up, affectionate toward the kids but in a distinctly grown-up way, and I'm such a grown-up with my own grown-up life that what they think about me (and say about me) isn't even on my grown-up RADAR.

Then I go on a weekend trip with them, and it gets shot all to heck. By the end of 48 hours together, I've had my driving insulted by fourteen-year-0lds multiple times (which, yes, hurt my feelings), listened to more giggling than any human being should have to in her whole LIFETIME, been complained to and at and about until I wanted to scream. I've been exhausted and touchy and laid bare in front of a bunch of kids who, on some days, can be little sharks sniffing for emotional blood. They've seen the real me, who is not very grown-up, and is much less detached than she pretends. Will this new familiarity lead to greater sharing, more opportunities to talk and bond, or just contempt? For some of them, it's unfortunately the latter.

Which makes it even more of a wonderful thing that God has blessed my life with some of the other kids, the ones that have embraced my husband and me. I feel like they actually like me, maybe even the real me. They give me the strength to take a breath, lick my wounds, and try again with the "difficult" kids. All of them are God's, so all of them are ours. Three days until youth group to recover, rest up, and walk in again with a (real) smile.

Death and snack foods

Something I never knew about responding to a death is that it's a lot like planning a party.

I walked up and down the aisles at the grocery store after hearing the terrible news that both parents of a family in our church were dead, the children left orphaned. My husband had asked me to bring tissues, food, and drinks over to the house. I wheeled the cart around and thought, "Better get some Diet, some people don't drink regular. And juice? Should I get something besides soda? Oh, and ice, people always run out of ice." I actually stood and debated which color of cups to get. And what about a Sharpie to write peoples' names on the cups? Would it seem too party-ish to have names on the cups?

At the deli counter, I asked for a meat and cheese tray and they handed me a list of all the platters. I distractedly picked one out (is something for 16-24 people enough?) and when the deli guy asked me when I needed it, I said "as soon as possible." He looked at me, a little annoyed, probably thinking I was on my way to a party, and I didn't know how to say that I needed to feed the hordes of people that had already shown up to comfort these poor children. I didn't know how to say, "There's been a death." You can't just come out and say that at a deli counter.

It was like a ghoulish parody of party shopping, done with dread rather than joy. I did not handle it well, nor am I handling it well. This is something I do not want to get used to.

Musings on the first day of school

I love being at school. I spend all summer being quiet and spending lots of time alone. I probably think too much, and I know I watch too much TV. Then I walk into my classroom on the first day of school, and think, "Oh yeah. This is who I am." In all the stress and chaos of a new group of kids who don't know me or each other, deep down I have a wonderful feeling of rightness.

I've suspected for quite some time that my husband hasn't found that feeling. The Plan, all along, was ministry. DH is a quiet guy with people he doesn't know, an incredible listener, someone who thinks carefully before he speaks, is able to get along with even the most difficult people, and has a great deal of empathy. He's not showy or especially charismatic, and speaking can be difficult for him, but he has such a heart for kids and for God. He pours himself into his ministry, and like many other ministers, lots of days he doesn't see much of a return. We both expected that.

But I've been getting a sense of confusion and hurt from him lately, although he would never phrase his feelings that way. I think he's wondering why, if he's supposed to be doing this, that it's not feeding his soul the way teaching feeds mine. We have older friends in ministry who have always told us: if you can imagine doing anything but ministry, go do it. DH is thinking about trying something different, something that he's been interested in for years but never pursued because of ministry. Just dipping his toe in, so to speak, while continuing to be committed to his work at the church. It can't hurt to develop another of his gifts, and it could turn out to be a safety net... later. If we need it.

I'm a little scared about this, being completely change-phobic, but I've tried to imagine deep down what I would feel if he told me tomorrow, "I'm quitting ministry and getting a normal job." I'd be lying if there wasn't some relief in that idea, but I also wonder if what DH is experiencing is just the way ministry is sometimes, and if it will get better. I want him to be content with his calling the way I am content with my calling. I guess for now, I'll keep listening and supporting and trying not to panic at the idea of our lives changing completely. Or the idea of more student loans.

How did I get here?

I was raised pretty darned conservative in terms of religion and politics. I was the teenager wearing the Witness Wear t-shirts, who read everything Josh McDowell wrote and hotly defended the inerrancy of the Bible. I guess I wasn't too strident-- a goth friend told me I was the only "nice Christian" he knew. But I was CERTAIN.

I've been trying to figure out when things started to change. A few things stick out:

• When one of my best friends came out during our freshman year of college, and told me about her girlfriend and her new life with some trepidation. She asked me, "How can God hate us for loving each other?" The response that she got from her Christian friends drove her out of the church. She's now in a heterosexual relationship and engaged, which would make her "acceptable" to those who rejected her, but I don't think she will ever walk into a church again.
  
• A conversation I had with the pastor of the almost-but-not-quite fundamentalist church I was attending, over a disagreement about whether I should get rebaptized to show that I accepted the teachings of that church. I said that if I tried to find a church whose teachings I agreed with 100%, I'd never find a church. He looked at me, shook his head, and told me that he thought that was incredibly sad. I was too... I WANTED to be able to have someone else tell me what I should believe, to have it all decided for me. I'm just not made that way.
  
• The youth pastor in that same church, saying during his message that he would punch any gay person who hit on him.
  
• When I told a good friend that I didn't think God would allow mistakes in the Bible, because the Bible is what people base their relationship with Him on, and He wouldn't make it so hard to figure out what was true and what was not. The good friend said, "God never promised that it would be easy." (Thank God for the hundreds of Deep Conversations we had in college, and continue to have today. He is truly a blessing.)
  
• When I started comparing what Jesus said about who was "saved" (for lack of a better word) and what Paul said, and realizing how different they were. And that although I heard LOTS of Paul in church, I wasn't hearing an awful lot of Jesus.
  
• When a really fantastic professor in college showed me a different way, a deeper way, to read Scripture, one that acknowledges and embraces the difficulty of the Bible rather than denying it or running from it
  
• When I realized how much of what Jesus said about the Pharisees could be applied to the 21st century American church.

This is a scary journey I'm on. Sometimes it's easier to list what I'm not sure about than what I am sure about. I tell the teenagers I work with that it's okay to question, that God is big enough to handle it. I'm sure of that. I'm sure of the love and example of Christ. I'm sure that when I don't know what to do or what is true, that I should err on the side of love. I'm sure that every person I meet was created in the image of God, and is to be treated with respect and honor.

Most days, that's enough.