Questions

A while back I came across this Pearls Before Swine cartoon.

And while Rat's question is perhaps a bit extreme, it reminded me of this discussion I once heard from a neighbor on a date, chatting after the date right outside my open window.

She told her date that she didn't want to go to heaven. She wanted to go to hell, because that's where all the fun people would be.

The problem though, is that Rat probably couldn't ask his question at church. Nor could my former neighbor share about her thoughts on hell. It's not typically an open-forum place where people can ask their questions, express their doubts, and find answers. Even in a small group setting, where people can actually be engaged in the conversation, there seems to be a limit on how far outside of the "normal Christian doubts" you can go.

On Desperate Housewives, Lynette once went to Brie's church and challenged the status quo. She raised her hand to ask a question about the sermon.

And although the pastor did respond to her questions and invite further dialogue, Brie was openly embarrassed and later criticized her friend, noting that church was not a place you go to ask questions. All too often, that's the way we react to genuine conversation in church.

I wonder if we'd have a better reputation and more visitors if we were willing to have a culture that engaged people and let them express their thoughts and doubts.

Frindle

There's this wonderful kids' chapter book by Andrew Clements, called Frindle. In it, Nick Allen is an imaginative and mischievous fifth grader, who likes to mess with teachers in a basically harmless way.

His fifth grade language arts teacher, Mrs. Granger, was a worthy adversary for Nick's antics. When he tried to throw her lesson plan off course, she assigned him a bonus assignment to find out where the words in the dictionary came from.

And after he gives his report, he still has a question: "Yeah, but, you know, I still don't really get the idea of why words all mean different things. Like, who says that d-o-g means the thing that goes 'woof' and wags its tail? Who says so?"

Mrs. Granger responds, "Who says dog means dog? You do, Nicholas. You and I and everyone in this class and this school and this town and this state and this country. We all agree...but if all of us in this room decided to call that creature something else, and if everyone else did, too, then that's what it would be called, and one day it would be written in the dictionary that way. We decide what goes in that book."

And not long after, Nick had another idea. He wanted to test out his power over words. So he decided to start calling pens frindles. He got a few classmates on board and began by going in to a store, a different person each day, and asking for a frindle. Then they started using it in class, and it caught on. Before you knew it, it spread around the school. And Mrs. Granger tried to stop anyone from using it. She talked to Nick and asked if he was going to stop, but he said he wasn't. So she handed him a sealed letter, had him sign and date over the seal, and said he would get the letter when it was all over.

Well, kids kept using the word. So Mrs. Granger kept kids after school for using it. But that didn't stop kids, and before you know it parents were calling in and complaining, and bus drivers were threatening to go on strike because a hundred kids were staying late each day. And because of the uproar, the local paper did a story on it. And then a local news station in Boston saw the local paper and did a report, which was also aired in New York. And meanwhile a local business man trademarked the word, created pens with the word frindle on them, and gave 30% of all profits to Nick in a trust fund. And after the story aired in New York, some producers of David Letterman saw it and Nick was invited on the show. And so on it snowballed, the use of the word spreading. And eventually the hype died down, but all around the country people were using the word frindle.

And then the book fast forwards to Nick's junior year of college. He gets a package in the mail from Mrs. Granger, with a brand new dictionary and a note to turn to page 541. There it is. The word frindle is in Webster's College Dictionary. Also enclosed is the letter Nick signed when he was in fifth grade.

"If you are reading this letter, it means that the word frindle has been added to the dictionary. Congratulations.

"...The word frindle has existed for less than three weeks. I now see that this is the kind of chance that a teacher hopes for and dreams about—a chance to see bright young students take an idea they have learned in a boring classroom and put it to a real test in their own world. I confess that I am very excited to see how it all turns out. I am mostly here to watch it happen.

"But somehow I think I have a small part to play in this drama, and I have chosen to be the villain. Every good story needs a bad guy, don't you think?"

To me, this is the genius of the book. Every good story does need a villain—and in this story, the villain gave herself that role in order to further the plot. If she hadn't kept kids after school and made such a big stink about the word, it never would've spread beyond the walls of Nick's school.

I've been thinking about this book because I think it applies very much to the church. I look at the fire bombings going on in Egypt and I think—these are the moments in history when the church blossoms. When the church doesn't face persecution, it tends to fizzle out. When there is a risk to being a Christian, people have to be all in or not in at all. And Christians who are all in despite persecution draw attention. I pray for the Egyptians because what they are facing is unimaginably difficult—but I also wait in eager expectation to see what God will do there to show his power over the persecutors.

The church in America isn't doing so hot. And while we claim we are persecuted because Obama has a Ramadan dinner or they mix in some Hanukkah songs on the radio in December, we know that there's really little risk to being a Christian here. There's nothing threatening our freedom. And without the villain, without the enemy, we can be lukewarm, "Sunday Christians." We don't have to unite together against a common enemy. Satan's plot against the church in America is to make it easy to be a nominal Christian. And it's working.

It's hard because I don't want to be persecuted. I'm comfortable. I don't want to have to deal with the kinds of things Christians in Egypt are! Who does? And yet I feel that without a real enemy, the Church in America will continue to dwindle.

"Every good story needs a bad guy, don't you think?"

God's Love

Here's a quote from this week's sermon at LifeBridge:

"You and I are never gonna lock eyes with anyone who God doesn't love as much as he loves you." - Rick Rusaw, Senior Minister

Now maybe to many people, that doesn't sound particularly profound or jarring. But it was something I needed to hear.

Sometimes, I feel like I'm one of God's favorites. Not because I feel entitled or like I deserve his love more than anyone else—I know I don't—but because he's blessed me so much and I just feel such a great connection with him.

But you know how sometimes on the Bachelorette, guys that think they are a shoe-in and keep telling the camera they have the strongest connection with the girl...those guys end up going home? It's easy for them to think they've got a stronger connection because they don't see the girl's relationship with the other guys. They only see their own. And they make a comparison even though they only see the one side.

This quote was in the context of a sermon about James 2, where he says not to show favoritism. I'll be honest, I judge people far too often. How they dress, how they wear their hair, how they talk. And at least in my head, I show favoritism accordingly. But this passage tells us not to show favoritism because that's not a reflection of God. God doesn't show favoritism. I'm not one of his favorites because he doesn't have any.

When my neighbor felt it was a good idea to blast music for hours straight from his car...at midnight...God loved him as much as he loves me.

When my other neighbor let her 5- and 8-year old girls play outside at midnight on a different night, presumably while she was passed out drunk...God loved her as much as he loves me.

When the creepy guy came up to me in Walmart and starting telling me about math equations in Spanish...God loved him as much as God loves me.

When someone disagrees with me about religion or politics or moral values...God loves that person as much as he loves me.

When the people from Westboro Baptist who give Christians such a bad name picket at gay people's funerals...as hard as it is to believe...God loves those misguided baptists as much as he loves me. (And he loves the gay person who died just as much, too.)

I want to learn to see the value of others through the eyes of God. To see how even people who don't meet my standards of lovableness do meet God's. Which is pretty backwards since he is much more entitled to harsh standards for lovableness. I want to realize that I am no more lovable—or more to the point, no more loved—than anyone I come into contact with. I want to really get that in my thoughts, words, and actions toward others.

My Church

I've been doing a lot of "church shopping" lately. I had some pretty tough criteria and couldn't quite find something to measure up. And I know that when I settle for a church that's not what I'm really looking for, I end up just sleeping in on Sunday.

A few weeks ago, I found a church that I already love. It's LifeBridge Church in Longmont and it's just what I was looking for! Here are some things I love about it:

Worship: Worship is a priority at LifeBridge. They don't skimp on songs at all. It's a nice long set of worship songs. And they pick very God-centered songs, not the me-centered ones, which I can only assume is intentional. Plus, they're not flashy with roving lights and fog machines, which I find distract me from worship. Since I really don't like sermons, worship is the most important aspect of the Sunday service for me...so this has been great.

Size: One of the things I wanted was a larger church. One, for more opportunities to connect and find the small group type things I'm looking for. And two, because I love the feeling of worshipping with a big group of people. LifeBridge has 4 weekend services and I'd say the auditorium holds about 1,000 people, so it's a good size church. BUT...sometimes you can get lost in large churches. Somehow, LifeBridge has the sense of community that feels more like a small church. It's a great balance. And with three Sunday services, I can make one trip and go to my adult class, serve in Sunday School, and go to the main church service.

Welcoming Environment: Some churches you go to, you feel like it's hard to even find someone to talk to about your questions. Other churches, you get swarmed by 15 people at once and it's overwhelming. At LifeBridge, there were plenty of people around for me to talk to, and they were very friendly and welcoming when I did...but no one bombarded me. I also went to an adult class and everyone was super nice and friendly. It was just the right level of genuine friendliness and not scary over-friendliness.

Communion: Communion is done weekly. That's not something I've seen often at non-liturgical churches, but it's the one thing I did prefer about liturgical churches. So I love that!

Sermons: As I said above, I don't like sermons. So what I like about them is that they're pretty short. Mostly because they pack in so much worship, there's not as much time left for the sermon. I also like that there's no fill-in-the-blank outline provided. I hate those - and I never use them. To me they make the sermon about listening for key words the preacher thinks are most important, rather than listening for how God is speaking to you through the sermon in the ways that are most important for your life. And the sermons are applicable, which is great.

Adult Classes: I mentioned above the class I went to. I only have gone once but it is just what I'm looking for - genuine discussion. Like - we got through 6 questions in an hour kind of discussion. You know it's a good question when it yields that kind of discussion. It was interesting, stimulating, made me think differently, and there were donuts. Donuts always help sway my vote. :)

Last night I also went to a new thing they're trying out for the summer, called Anchor. Anchor is for 18-30 year olds so I just barely made the cut. Anchor was great because it was not a singles' mixer, as many 20-something groups end up being at churches. No one checked me out - in fact there were several married women at my table. We worshiped a bunch (I told you that's a high value!), we had a short message, and then we had a follow-up discussion to the message that asked real, connecting questions. I knew when I walked in and saw round tables instead of rows of chairs, I was gonna like this. LifeBridge seems to get discussion and relationships in a way many churches don't.

Community: LifeBridge has "neighborhood pastors" - many of the pastors on staff are assigned to a section of the community - one of them is Loveland. So I'm working with my neighborhood pastor to get plugged into a small group here in town. Since the church is almost 30 minutes away, it's great that they have something for us northern folk - and that they're strategic about it. That's a little slower going as the Loveland neighborhood pastor just started in this area, so he's pulling everything together right now. But I'm confident, based on everything else I've experienced at LifeBridge, that I'll find something that's a great fit.

LifeBridge is also involved in the community with mentors for at-risk kids. And they have a foster and adoptive parents ministry. They have a ministry called "glocal" - focusing on both global and local outreach.

I love that there's this great balance of worship (connection to God), relationships (connection to other Christians), and service (connection to the world around us). I'm super excited to call it my church family!

One

I've been reading Ephesians in my slow, reflective fashion since July. I often read the Bible through a very self-focused lens. But with Ephesians, you really can't do that. It is so much about the Church.

Chapters 2 and 3 outline four key goals of the church. (At least, the way I read it.) These are amazing things we can accomplish as the body of Christ.

Goal 1: Put hostility to death

Reading Ephesians 2:16 on its own might lend itself to self-focus. But in context, Paul is writing about the former barrier between Jews and Gentiles. Jesus died to put to make these two groups into one new one: the Church. And he has used this new, united body to put to death hostility. Sadly, this is not something the church is known for. (More on that here.) But what an incredible calling!

Goal 2: Be a dwelling in which God lives

I love this one, from Ephesians 2:21-22. With Christ as our cornerstone, God is building us together to be his holy temple. You see, I've always subscribed to the idea that as individuals, Christians are God's temples. 1 Corinthians 6 talks about this. But here in Ephesians the idea is taken further. In our unity, we are being built into a dwelling for God's Spirit. What an honor!

Goal 3: Make known the manifold wisdom of God

Ephesians 3:10 specifically states that God's intent was to reveal this wisdom through the Church. Wow! All the rulers and authorities - not just on earth, but this verse says in the heavenly realms - will see God's wisdom through the Church. Did you catch that? We're not just a glimpse of God to this world. At its best, the Church is showing the heavenly authorities something about God that they can't see otherwise. Our reach is farther than we think!

Goal 4: Bring God glory

Ephesians 3:21 concludes a prayer for the Ephesians by bringing glory to God "in the church." The Westminister Catechism says that the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever. But it's not just man. The Church itself can be a praise offering, a way to bring glory to God.

Why does the church often fall short of these four goals? Well for one thing, it's made up of imperfect people like me. But Ephesians 4:3-6 talks about unity and notes that there is one body, one Spirit, one hope, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father.

I feel like if Paul were writing a letter to the American church, rather than the one in Ephesus, he would include something along these lines. Maybe expound upon it. With the most conservative estimates for number of protestant denominations being around 20,000, we've sure learned to focus on the differences. (Bonus if you can name all 20,000.)  In our church's pastoral search it came up that one candidate didn't believe in a literal seven day creation. One woman at our church strongly declared that she didn't know how he could call himself a Christian if he didn't believe in a literal seven day creation. That's certainly not focusing on the essentials!

But unity happens when we focus on the essentials. And when unity happens, these four goals will fall into place. Hostility fades away, and we join beautifully together as a temple that shines God's wisdom even into the heavenly realms, bringing him glory.

Individualized Faith

I've blogged before about how I think Jeremiah 29:11 is overused and more importantly, mis-used. And one thing I didn't really get into in that blog that is a common misuse of a lot of verses is the way we individualize things.

Over and over the church is addressed as a body. It begins in the Old Testament with the covenant with the nation of Israel. It continues with Jesus' teachings to the masses. And Paul's letters are mostly written to entire church bodies, rather than individuals. If the English language had a differentiation between the singular and plural "you," we'd probably recognize this more easily.

But there's only one form of "you," so we easily take verses like Jeremiah 29:11 personally, as if each of us is the only one that matters. A verse that was meant to bring ultimate hope to a nation is used to say God is going to give us as individuals hope and a future. But what we don't consider is that for most of the people who heard that message from Jeremiah, there was no personal hope, no personal future other than being in exile. 70 more years, they had in store. Which meant most of them died before this "hope and a future" ever came to light. But that was OK. Because it wasn't about some individual 40 year-old guy who'd die a captive. It was about God's redemptive plan for his people.

The patriarchs got it. Hebrews 11 lists men and women of faith and says in verse 13: "All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth."

They obeyed God because they knew it wasn't about them. God's promises to them weren't about what they as individuals would get. It was about God's grand plan for the world. Later in Hebrews 11:39-40, it says, "These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised.  God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect."

It's not about you. It's not about me. It's not even about the church body that exists today. It's about everyone who calls God their Father, those who have passed on and those who will succeed us.

It's not that faith isn't personal. It is. I'm so thankful that I can come before God as an individual, with all of my weaknesses and baggage that I don't want anyone else to see.

It's just that there's so much more to it than that. Limiting our view of God's plan to just our own lives is like watching one minute of the Star Wars movies and thinking you've seen the whole thing. (Confession: I did fall asleep numerous times so I can't say I've seen the whole thing. But, it being an iconic and well-loved series, I thought it was an apt metaphor.)

Now I don't mean to come across as condescending. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I am thinking only of myself at least 90% of the time. When I read the Bible, or just in general, it's all about me. But I think that's a problem.

I've also been guilty of complaining about the church. (Though I've also said nice things about the body of Christ.) And with the viral video "Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus," fuel has only been added the fire of this anti-church yet pro-Jesus subculture. Believe me, I've been there. But recently some lyrics in the song "The Church" by Derek Webb really struck me.

'Cause I haven't come for only you

But for my people to pursue

And you cannot care for me

With no regard for her

If you love me you must love the church

Jesus helped individuals. He took care of individual needs like restoring sight to the blind or making the lame walk. And he still does that. But his message of love wasn't just for one person. It's often said that, "If you were the only sinner in the world, Jesus still would've died for you." And maybe that's true. Maybe he would've. But the fact is, I'm not the only sinner in the world. Jesus died for a lot of people. Everyone, as it turns out.

And if I'm really capturing the beat of my heart, I'm recognizing that faith isn't about ME. It's about his great love for the whole world. And if I get to be a part of that plan, that's amazing! Because what we are capable of doing for God is infinitely greater than what you+you+you+me are capable of doing for God on our own.

Exuding Love

Sunday's sermon was about the church in Acts, having everything in common and giving to those who had need. The church in Acts is a growing, vibrant community. Every day God adds more people to their numbers. Sure, they are met with a fair share of naysayers (many of whom try to kill Christians, like Saul before his conversion), but that doesn't stop the church from growing.

Why? It's not because the church is culturally relevant. It's not because the church is entertaining. It's because the church exudes God's love and power.

I've made it a goal to pray for my church each day this week. And today I prayed a bit about this concept. For us to exude God's love within the body and to outsiders.

I heard a quote from someone's blog today that said, "Bigger and better are always trumped by different." That's what the early church was. And not different in a weird way, but different in a "wow...amazing things are happening and I want to be a part of it."

The Church in America and Europe is shrinking. And the onus is on all of us who are a part of it. If we're shrinking, it's not for lack of fog machines and rock bands. It's because the Church isn't known for its love. And yes, the media does like to highlight the Christians who focus more on hate than love, and that doesn't help us. But what if the rest of the Church was such a powerful force of God's love that anyone who saw media coverage on a couple of haters knew that wasn't what the Church was really like? What if we were really known for our love?

It starts with me. It starts with you. What am I doing to exude God's love in and with the body of believers I call my church home? What are you doing? It's time to let love be the beacon that makes people say, "Wow...amazing things are happening and I want to be a part of it."

Notes

Last Sunday in church, as the preacher began his sermon, he stopped short and started singling people out in the congregation. Pointing to them, saying things like, "You, I can see you! You, hiding behind the pole...you can't hide!"

The people he was pointing out? People he could tell weren't taking notes. As if shaming people into doing some pseudo-spiritual act wasn't enough, he went on to say, "You'll remember it better if you take notes. Can you imagine taking a class in school and not taking notes? You'd never remember anything."

A fair point, for a seminarian. But for a sermon listener? Yuck. The whole thing made me want to stand up and shout, "THIS is what's wrong with sermons!"

Because school is about a transfer of knowledge. You need to know how to multiply fractions and that Abraham Lincoln was assassinated and that leaves are green because of the chloroform. (And yes, I realize all my examples are things you learn in elementary school. Apparently I didn't take good enough notes in high school and college.) It makes sense that you need to write down things that are about knowledge.

But sermons shouldn't be about a transfer of knowledge. If all I've walked away with on a Sunday morning is a handful of Bible facts to file away in some binder and never review again (because let's be honest, the only reason you looked at your school notes were to study for a test) ...I've wasted my time. But if I walk away loving God a little more, sensing the Spirit's presence in my life a little more, challenged to do something practical to be a little more like Jesus...then I've been transformed. And that's what should happen in church. Gradually, slowly, church facilitates the process of refining that God is working on in our life.

I'm not saying there's no room for learning about the Bible. Too many Christians don't know enough about why they believe. But knowledge for knowledge sake, when it comes to Christianity, is worthless. Knowledge that leads to transformation? Priceless. And if you're really being transformed, you'll remember it without filling in the blanks on a sermon outline.

Pastor

My church is looking for a new senior pastor. It's been quite some time, and a couple weeks ago we had a prospective pastor come preach. To the extent that I like preaching, which isn't much, I felt like he was great. Very different in style from what our church is used to, but I found him engaging and relatable, and I walked away personally challenged.

But what I really liked about this guy wasn't his preaching. Like I said, I'm not real into preaching period. What I liked was his heart. His character. He was authentic, humble, and genuine. He spoke earnestly about what he cared about and some of his failings. He had a passion for helping people seek God and live as part of God's kingdom, and I was so excited for that kind of leader.

Today we had a church vote on him. I didn't get to vote since I'm not a member, and we won't know the results until later this week. But before the vote people shared various opinions and questions. And one thing that several people mentioned was not being a fan of his preaching style.

Now I get that some people have different preferences than me, and prefer different styles. (But again...my real preference would be no preaching,  just a guy leading discussion that helps us draw out what the Scripture is saying. In fact in my sermon journal I write down ideas of experiences and discussions that could make the same teaching interactive and memorable. But I digress.)

But ultimately I just feel like preaching is not a big enough thing to say yes or no because of. I mean, it's 30 minutes a week of a full-time job. Sure, it's the most visible part...but that doesn't mean it's the most important. I think the most important thing about a pastor is that he can lead and manage the congregation with integrity. That he can help us grow closer to Christ and seek and serve him more.

I don't know how the people who didn't like his preaching voted, if that was enough to be a "no" for them. But I felt very discouraged sitting there and realizing how much emphasis many congregants were placing on preaching (which was just 1 out of 5 strengths our search team looked at).

So whether or not he gets the vote and comes to be our new pastor, I'm still discouraged. A church isn't made vibrant by 30 minutes of brilliant orating each week. A church is made vibrant when the people in it grow more and more in their love for God every day, support each other in community, and serve in unity. And the real job of a pastor is facilitating that and being an example of that.

Processing

You may recall that one of my New Year's resolutions was to be me - to discover and embrace the person God created me to be.

I've been thinking about this a lot, letting God define me and reading a book on the topic, The Me I Want to Be by John Ortberg. All this got me thinking about how I process things best: by writing about them. (So now you get why I blog so much!) I even had a reading assignment in college where I asked the professor if I could submit a paper about my readings (which wasn't assigned), because I knew that without writing or discussion, the information would go straight out of my mind.

And then I started thinking about all my complaints about sermons, and how it's pretty unlikely that I am going to find a church that has interactive learning rather than passive listening in services. But that there is something I can do about this...based on the way I process.

So I bought a journal last week for use in church. Not to take bullet pointed notes and regurgitate what the pastor is saying in written form. Rather, the purpose is to take notes about my responses to the sermon. How does it challenge me? What does it make me think about? For instance, this week the pastor talked asked what we consider to be a good life. So I made a list of what I seek for a "good life." And I wrote that if we want to hire this prospective pastor we should give him a rose like on The Bachelor. That seemed important. And I wrote a challenge for myself to apply the sermon.

So, that's what I'm doing to help myself grow more from listening to sermons instead of letting it all slip out of my mind in a couple of hours.

Big Church, Little Church

When I was in college, I checked out the big church right off campus...and hated it. And then and there I decided I was more of a small to mid-sized church kind of girl. But then I graduated and worked at Elmbrook, and was immersed in big church for several years. And now I can see the pros and cons of each...so I thought I'd list them.

Big Church Pros:
- Lots of opportunities for small groups/service opportunities that are the perfect fit for you.
- Worship. I don't mean the quality of the worship leaders (though there often is a better pool of talent and better equipment)...I mean the idea of joining with hundreds or even thousands of voices in singing praise to God. There's something very heavenly about that...I miss it a lot.

Small Church Pros:
- It's easy to fit in right away (or to tell if it's a clique-y church that you'll never fit into)
- There's a greater sense of community (I think)
- There's usually less of a sense of "grandeur" and "production" and more a focus on faith growth

Big Church Cons:
- Easy to get lost in the crowd if you're not proactive about finding your place.
- Especially if there are satellite locations, it can feel very segregated.
- Traffic and parking!

Small Church Cons:
- If there is only one service, it's hard to serve!
- It's easier for the pastor to notice if you fall asleep during the sermon.
- You'll be overwhelmed with poachers eager to sign you on when you visit once.

What would you add to my lists?

Sacred Marriage: Christ and the Church

This week my blogging group is reading chapter 2 of Sacred Marriage. I have to admit, I struggled with this chapter. It took me a while to figure out why. I was reading about how marital analogies teach us about God, and particularly about Christ and the church, and it was just bothering me for some reason.

And then I figured it out. Thomas writes, "If we are consumed with highlighting where our spouses are falling short, we will miss the divine mysteries of marriage and the lessons it has to teach us." Ah ha!  This made it all click. (Though not until I was a couple of pages later and came back to this sentence.)

Here's what was bothering me. In the analogy of Christ and the Church, he's the husband, the Church is the wife. And the Church isn't perfect. Not even close. So I can identify with that metaphor for my side of things. Church = imperfect; Me = imperfect. Not that that's God's design for the Church, but it's reality. So it makes sense to me.

But Christ is the husband in that metaphor. And Christ is perfect. Ergo, Dan should be perfect. Only he's not (and neither is your husband).

I realize this is a biblical analogy, not one Thomas made up, but it took this book to make me realize that the analogy may cause me to place unrealistic expectations on Dan. It may cause me to highlight where he's falling short, the very thing Thomas warns against. If I'm the Church, he can't look at me and say, "come on Church, live up to your name." I do that just fine - live up to an imperfect comparison. But subconsciously, do I look at Dan's imperfections and think, "come on, Jesus, live up to your name."

Questions

I'll admit it: I'm a fan of Desperate Housewives. And there's an episode in Season 4 that has stuck with me for a long time.

In it, Lynette has just overcome cancer and nearly lost her family in a tornado (but they were fine). And she has questions about God's goodness. And about why she survived these things when so many others don't. So she decides to turn to church.

She'd never been to church, not even as a kid, but she went with Bree. And when the preacher was finishing his sermon, she raised her hand and asked her question. And started dialoguing with the preacher.

Well, Bree was mortified and told Lynette that church isn't about asking questions, it's about listening for the answers. Lynette wasn't satisfied and sought another church.

But I think Lynette was on to something. She was making church into an active, participatory experience.

Because if faith isn't meant to be passive, why is it that the crux of communal faith (church) is so passive? And what does that do to our natural tendency to live a passive faith in day-to-day life? To sit in our metaphorical pews and watch someone else live out faith? How does our church model discourage thinking for oneself about faith, and instead teach us to blindly accept the words of the "experts"? (What could we have to offer when we've got a seminary grad on stage?)

And what if I had the courage to raise my hand and ask questions in church like Lynette did? Ah, but I wouldn't. Because I've been going to church long enough to know that's not how it works. Unlike Lynette, I know that church culture is to sit obediently and listen, maybe throwing out the occasional "amen" if your denomination is OK with that or you're really brave.

I went to church yesterday. The sermon was about godly words. One of the points was that godly words are few, and I found it ironic that someone could talk uninterrupted for over half an hour and part of the talk could be about having few words.

He also said something about "attending church" as a mark of Christianity. And I thought about that phrase, "attend church." We use it so often, so casually, we don't think about it. But what if the verb that goes with church wasn't "attending" like you do with a play or a class, but experiencing? What if we could truthfully say we "experience church" every Sunday?

I've talked to numerous people at Group about my frustrations with this passive thing we call church. Many of them share my frustrations. Thom Schultz, our founder and CEO, blogs about it often. (I had a link to his blog, but it looks like it might've been hacked today.) I think it's because we know there's a better way to learn. To discover. To explore. And we're frustrated that no one is doing it in "big church."