BECOMING GENUINE DAILY

"God Box"

"Every day people are straying away from the church and going back to God."
--Lenny Bruce

"To listen to some devout people, one would imagine that God never laughs."
--Ghose Aurobindo

Divine Caroline, a website devoted to women, recently posted a story on church signs with intriguing messages. While many are humorous, others focus on the commonplace fear element, the eternal damnation visible to motorists who drive by. I wonder from time to time whether these statements continue to hold the impact for change. Meditating on the images, the text, the mind of the observer, I'm coming to the conclusion the simple answer is no. When I study the United States, I detect cynicism rising through the disposition of society; furthermore, I find it difficult to unravel this feeling succinctly. Turning to headlines, however, snapshots validate this state of mind: corruption, molestation, exclusivity, arrogance, indifference. In terms of psychology, people are creatures of habit. Accordingly, they size one another up quickly by group. And the exceptions are unfortunately singled out as a representation of the whole. And churches do not escape this tendency.

With this in mind, why does the church exist? If the answer to this supposedly simple question is experiencing God, I have no reason for visiting the church. In fact, I find it sporadically distracting in the quest to rest in the silence and meditate on circumstances, accomplishments, failures, others. Focus is continually breached in the building by lighting, noise, children and movement. And when these stimuli occur, concentration on deeper truths is broken, concentration difficult to reacquire. I know the discipline of stillness is always challenging, but disconnecting from the "noise" of life liberates my mind, my spirit, my body in numerous ways. The psalmist captures the words of God in 46:10--"Be still and know that I am God." The stillness becomes my "church" when I strike the keys and outline my thoughts, crack open the next book and lose myself in the story, reflect on the day and the accomplishments or failures. Neglecting the noise becomes my ally. Knowing God exists outside brick walls, the question concerning church existence remains.

I find myself telling people I'm a "maven", a term Malcom Gladwell outlines in his amazing book The Tipping Point (Back Bay Books, 2002). When I use this word, I define it by the way I continually look for knowledge, wisdom in society, news, BLOGS, articles, conversations, victories, failures, disagreements with others. I wholeheartedly believe in the value of education and the impact it creates during one's life. Millions darken the church doors for education, teaching on the Scriptures and the crossover they reveal in life. But do I need the church, a minister for wisdom regarding the Scriptures?  No. I can study the texts by myself and reference other materials as needed. I meet people from time to time who are consumed with hearing a "word" from God every Sunday, disappointed when they don't. Do they think it only comes through the mouth of one minister? Do they find clarity in personal study, meditation?

Have you noticed the egotism in this reflection yet? While it is not readily visible, the aforementioned thoughts focus on the personal relationship with God. The church is devoid. But this personal relationship is the reason I'm continuing to discover why I choose to step through church doors. The reason is very simple: I love people. I love the members of my family, more now than ever. I love my friends, the ones I know now and the ones I have not yet met. I love the people I wholeheartedly disagree with. Why? They give me reason to think deeper; they criticize that which needs reform, revision. The world is ugly, and much exists to hate. It is always easier to hate the person, but should the action not be the focus of scorn? When people are pushed or deeply hurt, irrational actions take over the mind. Every one is wounded in one way or another. And this is the recognition which leadings to healing, reconciliation.

The church (or mosque or synagogue or cathedral) is not comprised of bricks, mortar; it is the collection of people who share similar outlooks (beliefs) concerning life. Why do denominations exist? Variety is the spice of life. Extremes exist, but if one is willing to hold conversations and come to middle ground, hope undoubtedly lingers. In the words of John Lennon, "You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one." I'm inclined to think I'm not the only one. I hope others think on this sporadically. In the Scriptures, the word "church" does not exist until Jesus shares it with his students. The Greek word for church is ekklesia and is defined this way: "a gathering of citizens". And this gathering is the reason I step through church doors to reconnect with others. Oddly enough, this is the irony--music and teaching, elements many define "church" by, take away from this opportunity. Availability for conversation is contingent on the arrival of people too. When I step back, however, I recognize the books I read are written by people. I recognize the Scriptures are documented by people. I recognize music cannot exist without energy or wind moving through it.

If one outlines church by the gathering of citizens, numerous possibilities open. Accordingly, this is the way I'm coming to redefine the church: it is not a building, but a movement, people joining together for the purpose of common good, uplifting others who are in need. Consider Google, the search engine juggernaut. MSNBC reported yesterday the company is giving a free phone number and voicemail to the entire base of homeless citizens in San Francisco. This project will help people list phone numbers on job applications (which require callback numbers) and return to the workforce quickly. I discover wisdom and God inside church walls, but it is no longer the primary reason for my attendance. I know my solo efforts can only go so far, but the collective willingness of people to unite for the sake of helping others is truly the way goodness moves through the world.

References:

MSNBC, "Google Gives All SF Homeless Free Voicemail". 2.28.08. 2.29.08. http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23377190

"Casa"

"You can't go home again."
--Thomas Wolfe

"I'm going home, to the place where I belong."
--Chris Daughtry

The search for a residence consumed me in 2007. I looked over two-stories, ranches, apartments and townhomes, carefully weighing the pros and cons of each possibility, rechecking my budget. I downplayed my disappointments from time to time, but continued my quest, knowing I would succeed in good time. I did locate a home and truly look forward to the relaxation it induces each day when I return from work, take my shoes off and run my toes across the carpet. I'm not sure why, but this practice is oddly refreshing. In fact, I take this cue from a film. Look through your DVD collection and dig out "Die Hard" (1988), directed by John McTiernan. Notice John McClane decides to take part in this practice, wisdom from a plane companion. I'm also discovering homes require continual upkeep, and prioritizing projects will always be necessary for the preservation of mental sanity. Living with my family numerous years creates a psychological hurdle, but I'm continually recognizing the necessity for moving forward. Independence breeds growth quickly.

It is with a heavy heart I continue to watch the housing market melt down. Credit continues to tighten and loan standards continue to sharpen. Just recently, the government introduced measures to help homeowners work out payments while retaining ownership. While these measures are important, millions are slowly moving into foreclosure. Others dwell in it fully. It is always simple to point the finger and assign blame, but when I ponder the intensity and emotion of this moment, sadness trumps judgment. A deep bond exists between homeowners and the structure which keeps the body warm and cool with the shifting seasons. Children are created and reared, tears are shed, laughter rolls through the air and memories are forged forever. And although the foundation is comprised of cement, wood, nails, drywall, insulation and shingles, a quiet presence, an "aroma", moves through the home: the lingering smell of cooked meals, ironed sheets, a vacuumed floor, the comfort in resting on a leather couch. Joyce Maynard puts it best: "A good home must be made, not bought." Homes are never identified by the materials used in the construction; it is truly the love or lack thereof that lives and moves within the walls and marks the people who step outside its doors.

In the Scriptures, the home is significant in numerous ways. The Hebrew word for "home" is bayith and carries a meaning very similar to the English translation (in a structural sense): "house", "abode" or "dwelling". Bayith also means "household" and "family". Understood this way, it is framed in terms of lineage, the family name and the respect it carries in the village or community. For instance, looking back into the 20th century, Rockefeller, Carnegie and Vanderbilt come to mind, men who defined society through the production and distribution of oil, steel and railroads, respectively. But with numerous names in circulation now, the luster is fading for legacy in the West. Life is framed in terms of the single person in the West, but the Scriptures read otherwise. Leadership by the mother and the father is followed. In other words, the statement "you and your household" denotes the unity of decision. St. Paul writes about his stay in prison. Chained to the wall, he begins to sing with his fellow brothers. The melody is followed by an earthquake and the structure collapses. The chains fall and the jailer thinks the men are gone. Preparing to take his life, Paul tells him to halt and see everyone remains. The jailer comes to Paul and wonders how he might be reconciled to God. Paul tells him to believe in Jesus and restoration follows. Incidentally, his household (family) follows his decision, taking the words of Paul to heart. He and his household stand together.

The word "home" evolves once more in the Greek translation: oikos meaning "of the human body". St. Paul writes about this in his letter to Corinth. Prostitution continues to play a prominent role in this society, but numerous men and women step away from the practice. Paul reminds readers the body is a temple, a "home" in which spiritual formation takes root. Jesus also validates this reference when he stands trial for his alleged transgressions against others. He tells his accusers, "Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days." But they are thinking in terms of buildings, the actual temple located in the center of Jerusalem. He is referring to himself and the rise from death in the coming days. I don't tend to think of my body in terms of a home, but I do hold complete ownership over it in every way: diet, exercise, sleep, thoughts, words. Surprisingly, this recognition takes me back to the household reference. And to books by Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins.

Hitchens (God is not Great) and Dawkins (The God Delusion) liken child rearing with religion to child abuse. In short, they believe this approach robs young minds the opportunity to think critically and decide whether they wish to take hold of the parent's beliefs too. What strikes me is the crossroads youth face as they mature into adolescence. Usually with the completion of high school, quick independence takes over, the freedom to abide by one's own sense of time and focused decision making, absolved from parental influence. In short, this frame of mind is coupled with moving out. But in this moment in time, I am discovering every person makes a decision regarding the spiritual upbringing: making it his or her own, or choosing to venture into a new path. Raised in a spiritual home, I decided to make the teachings I received my own. In retrospect, I do wish I was challenged more; it is only until recently I have decided to take the challenge upon myself, reading up on the worldviews, philosophies and beliefs others share who are distinct from my own. Some think this state of mind is risky and my spiritual foundation will become muddled. I strongly disagree. In fact, I think this exercise helps me to understand others better (because my core understanding of spiritual reality is grounded) and why they understand the world this way.

Surprisingly, this creates a question. Both Jesus and St. Paul talk about redemption in the entire household. Why does everyone believe though? Is it simply out of example by the parents? Or do the children reflect on the invitation, wrestle with it, meditate on it? Studying the teachings of Jesus, the response follows the miracles: people see life change with the eyes and respond with the heart, the spirit, the will to follow his leadership example. Unlike today, however, respondents didn't gather in the church to study the words of Jesus. The words he speaks are written after his death. But intrigue is truly evident, as Jewish people compare the messages of Jesus with the Torah and the Psalms, the Proverbs and the prophets, puzzled with the newness, even offended with intensity behind the unorthodox stories. People convene in the home to discuss his message, "breaking bread" in the process. It is joyous to see this practice continue today, good conversation alongside good food. I find lifetime memories are created in these settings. But the home is not the church. And while churches are continuing to drift into home settings, buildings are never the church. They are simply a place for the "church" to gather in common unity, people united with similar outlooks (beliefs) on spiritual formation. The "church" is my home away from home. Dorothy puts it best though: "There's no place like home." Indeed.