oh so this is church…..
Originally published at Perches in the Soul. You can comment here or there.
I have spent three summers working overseas with disabled children and never once did my church at home ask me to talk about it beyond speaking to the youth group. It never really bothered me too much but I was always a little saddened by it because it reflected so much that was wrong with my conception and relationship with church.
I was only in the church in Roanoke for 11th and 12th grade (thats when we gave up our nomadic ways). It should be noted that my church at home took a very hard right turn right before I graduated from high school with a new pastor. It should also be noted that my parents and I received concerned letters (including newspaper articles with highlighted portions of crazy Liberal professors from Wake Forest) about my decision to go to Wake and my parents’ decision to let me…. Being the heathens that we are my family was not phased. My Dad kept calling me my freshmen year saying he told the whole church I was majoring militant feminism (I kept waiting to come and find my name on the prayer list). You might say this the beginning of the end of my family’s participation in conservative Baptist life. Because we lived in a small town (for the first time really ever) and because we didn’t have a lot of church options, my parents reluctantly stayed in the church hoping to infuse it with sanity….we were basically closet missionaries to southern baptists (yep we thrive on irony).
SO all through college, I came home to this church. Every summer I came home to this church and then I went and did mission work. I never had anyone tell me but I think my work confused them, I never seem to bring dramatic statistics of conversion or passed out bibles. And I talked about things like liberation theology of disability…I didn’t seem to think that disability was some sort of evil side effect of the FALL. I talked about inclusion not conversion. It was a problem for them.
I am sure they wondered if the militant feminism rumors were true. I am sure some wondered where my parents had gone wrong? As I wondered where in the world my parents came from? How did they raise us so differently as navy nomads with the same basic beliefs as these folks yet such vast differences in interpretation? Things got worse, they outlawed women not from preaching (that apparently was given…who knew?) but then from teaching anyone over the age of 18. We also got letters about the dangers of wine…we are still waiting for the one about dancing…when it comes we plan having a heathen dance party in our living room….with wine and possibly tequila. My Dad resigned from the Deacon board, my mother and sister tearfully said goodbye to our friend who was the only female pastor on staff before the new policies. Church depressed me, church made me feel confused, church made me ashamed to be a Christian.
Then I grew up and found a small church here. And was anxious to get my name off the rolls of the church in Roanoke. So I joined the small church with a little bit of anxiety because like I said church was depressing. And this church is not a perfect church but after a couple months, I began to realize that church was about community and love and listening and not about politics and rules. I had heard this existed but had not experienced such a place during my young adult life. When I was asked to speak about Romania, I was honored and a little nervous. Because I like what can I say? Can I talk about the real issues? Can I talk about preaching in Romanian churches? Can I talk about drinking Romanian wine, can I talk about everything? Can I share my heart in church? And no one wonder what the heck happened to that kid? Will some one raise their hand and ask if I converted anyone?
Tonight for the first time I actually spoke to a faith community that included everyone from a 4 yr old to 89 yr old. I said everything from abortion on down to how I didn’t covert anyone. I talked about inclusion and NO PITY and able-ism. And at the end they had questions but not crazy ones, real honest ones that encouraged discussion and thought not division. And at the end the strangest thing happened. The pastor he came up and asked if the church could affirm my calling, my vocation to serve children overseas and to work for justice for my people and for patience to finish my education/preparation for the task. And the church came up and they surrounded me not in a scary sort of faith healing televagnelism TV special sort of way but in a loving communal sort of way….for the first time church reminded me of my girl friends praying over chips and tea and homework or parables huddling before a performance. A way of saying, hey we support your vision, your faith (even with its crazy theology) and we share your dreams. And as I sat there surrounded by the 4 yr old to the 89 yr old, I realized oh so this is church.
it makes so much more sense now this church thing.