241. (relatively) small church and big questions

So let me tell you about the church I've been attending. It's called Quest and there are two things I liked immediately about it.

First, it isn't a mega-church like Mars Hill. After moving to Seattle, I went to Mars Hill for about a month and while I thought the teaching was good, it was just way too big, especially for someone who came out of a house church setting (see blog 175). Quest isn't exactly a small church (three Sunday services), but it's not so large that I feel anonymous.

Second, the messages are challenging - challenging in ways that go beyond me and my own little life, challenging in a way that more churches should be. What I mean is, their sermons are about initiating change in the world, about making the world a better place, about social justice. Their vision is local as well as global (a couple weeks ago, a woman shared about a mission trip to Congo and the pastor shared abut his trip to Thailand, Myanmar, and Japan).

This is exciting to me because there was a time last year when I was doing a lot of writing and thinking about the church and what it is that Jesus wants to do in the world through the church (see blog 216 for one example). See, I don't think Christianity is just about getting people saved, especially if you narrowly define salvation as having someone pray the sinner's prayer.

Now I don't want to get bogged down in a debate about what constitutes salvation. What I'm trying to get at is the idea that Christianity has to be about more than just getting people to pray a certain prayer. When you look at the history of the first century church, you quickly get the idea that their understanding of what it meant to be a follower of Christ was very different from what it has become today. For them, identifying themselves as a follower of Christ meant they could be tortured and/or killed. Now I'm sorry if what I'm about to say next offends anyone, but I really don't think first century Christians would have been willing to die for the kind of Christianity that gets preached in many mainline churches today.

As a side note, I understand that we live in a pluralistic, wealthy society and as such, it can be difficult for the gospel to find traction. By that I mean that we in America enjoy living in a place where we can worship freely. We also live in a place where even those living at the poverty line have it far better than most of the rest of the world. These facts might seem obvious to some but it's worth mentioning because historically (and even in present day), Christianity is sometimes most richly practiced and experienced where it is most heavily persecuted. Again, I point to the first century church as an example of this. A more contemporary example might include the church in Russia before the fall of Communism and present day churches in the Middle East.

Maybe, in a way, it's more difficult to live an authentic Christian life in a society without persecution. Wait, let me rephrase that. Maybe it's more difficult to live an authentic Christian life apart from persecution. No, that's not what I mean to say either.

See, I happen to hold the belief that the Gospel can bring life, meaning, and purpose to anyone - not just the oppressed, but for the wealthy as well. However, there are certainly ways in which it can be harder for the teachings of Christ to be lived out (as opposed to merely practiced or aped) in an affluent society. Even Jesus made it plain that "it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God," (Matthew 19:24). And I wonder if what Jesus is saying there can be applied to nations as well - is it just as difficult for rich nations to live out the kingdom of God?

Okay, I've veered far off topic. What I had meant to write about was how the sermons at Quest church are challenging me to think about how I live out my faith in practical (and impractical) ways. They seem to have a very outward focus which I find a refreshing break from the inward, navel-gazing tenor of some other churches. I've heard far too many sermons about personal prayer and personal discipline and analyzing one's personal spiritual health. I'm tired of all this spiritual narcissism.

I want to know what Christ wants to do about the widening political division in America. I want to know what Christ wants to do about AIDS in Africa and Asia. I want to know what Christ wants to do about the meth epidemic, about global warming, about corruption.

On a more personal, local level, I want to know how Christ wants me to behave at work. I want to know how I can be a blessing to my coworkers when much of my day is spent pulling files and boxes (I work in a warehouse). I want to know how I can use the gifts God has given me to further the work of his kingdom. I want to know how I (as a private, introspective, introverted sort of person) can share and/or live out my faith.

Sigh.

Big questions, big ideas, but my voice is so small (and my blog so incoherent).

One last thing about Quest. I like that the pastor freely admits to not having all the answers. He seems to be wrestling with some of the same questions I am and that's tremendously encouraging to me.

The answers are out there. God has a plan and we have a part.

If I don't write before then, happy new year everyone.

240. oh no, not again

I would first of all like to apologize for my lack of entries. I try to post at least one entry per week. It's been more than two weeks since my last entry. In my (feeble) defense, the internet has been down for the past three days and I did have a blog entry just about ready to post (and I'll probably be posting that one in a few days) but I was too lazy to finish that entry when I knew I wouldn't be able to upload it.

I had planned on finishing that entry and posting it tonight (internet access came back on this afternoon) but there's something on my mind and I want to get it out before it slips away (as inspiration and ideas are wont to do).

See...hmm, how to begin, how much context to include...this has been an odd year for me. No, I don't mean because of the move to Seattle. I wrote about it back in February (see blog 126) and it basically has to do with the fact that for the first time in my life, I've been content as a single person.

For those who didn't know me back when, it's hard to understand what a big deal it is for me to write that because I've had more than one friend say to me, "would you just shut up about being single already?" I used to complain about it all the time. It was like this aching hole in my life that I desperately wanted to fill. The ache was so bad, it weighed heavily on everyday decisions.

For example, sometimes I would drive down to Borders and if someone were to ask me why I was going, I'd probably tell them that I wanted to browse the new fiction section or to look at magazines. And while that's what I'd do while I was there, the real reason was to see if I might meet some really cool girl reading some really cool book that I could make some really cool comment on which would be the beginning of a really cool relationship.

Fact is, even if I did meet such a girl reading just such a book and even if I thought of some witty remark to make about it, there's no way I'd have had the balls to deliver it. See, I have no game whatsoever - zero, zip, zeitgeist (yeah, I know zeitgeist doesn't fit there but I heard the word the other day and it sounded so hip and smart, I was dying to use it). The only pickup line I know is, "hello," and I have no followups. Of course some might say, just be yourself, but "myself" doesn't like to meet new people (I find it stressful and terribly awkward even if it's something as casual as talking to the person cutting my hair) and so being that wouldn't help at all.

Anyway, so that going-to-Borders example is one example of how sad and pathetic my life used to be. Think that's not so bad? How's this. Sometimes I'd see an ad for an art exhibit that looked really interesting but I wouldn't go because one of the reasons I wanted to have a girlfriend was so that I would have someone to discuss art and ideas with and the thought of seeing yet another art show alone was just too disappointing and so I just wouldn't go at all.

I was that lonely and that frustrated ever since I graduated from high school.

And then for some reason, once 2006 rolled around, all those feelings went away.

I can't explain it. It's not like I had some grand epiphany. Nothing dramatic occurred in my life. I didn't have some mountaintop experience with God. There were no big changes in my life at all, really. I was just driving around one day late January or early February when I realized that I didn't care that I was single anymore. And I don't remember the circumstances surrounding this realization because that's how much I didn't care about it. Despite the fact that my singleness was something that weighed heavily on me for years and years, it went away so cleanly and effortlessly that even when I realized it wasn't there anymore, I wasn't surprised. I wasn't even curious about why/how it went away. I wasn't even happy or sad to be rid of it - that's how completely it just went away.

Recently though (say, in the past two weeks), I've been casually praying a prayer that goes something like this, "Lord, please teach me about love." In praying that, I'm merely asking God to help me understand what it is to love, what it looks like and how I can better love those around me. And I suppose the subtext of that prayer is asking God, once again, to bring someone special into my life because to my mind, the easiest way to learn about love is to be in love.

Okay, so ALL that to say that tonight at church, there was this girl sitting at the end of my row and I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time. I thought she looked really amazing - short hair, a sharp, smart dresser (though not overly trendy), a friendly smile, and she was at church - and for the first time this year, I was sad that I was single.

I'm still too new to this church to know if she's one of the regulars or of this was her first visit. Maybe I'll never see her again and even if I do see her again, I'd have no idea how to approach her or what to say even if I did.

And I wonder if this is a kind of answer to my prayer. And I wonder if this means that my year-long respite from the angst of singleness is over. And I wonder if now, finally, in this new city, I'll find someone who finds me as well.

I don't know.

Who but God knows and what but time will tell?