Fear, Fights, Flameouts, and a Few Weeks Without a Post

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Regular readers will know that I haven’t posted in a few weeks.

The simplest explanation comes down to my increasing bewilderment at the state of the American Church. I’ve been gobsmacked (or should it be Godsmacked ?) by the increasing  insanity within our ranks. It truly feels like people are losing their grip on reality.

I’ve watched a few fights among believers online over piddling differences. I’m sick to death of the all-important need by some to be correct, even at the expense of love, fellowship, and unity. I’ve watched one battle in which neither side can come up with a solid biblical platform to justify their position,  and neither side will acknowledge that perhaps their side could learn something from the other. No, the need to be right trumps everything else, and the conversation descends into so much name-calling and noise. Sickening.

I’ve watched frightened believers, who resemble Chicken Littles, call for filling the bunker and fleeing to gold reserves (despite what Larry Norman sang about gold and bread). It’s the end of the world as we know it, and these self-appointed stokers of fear are on the front lines sounding the trumpet. “The _______________ {Insert bogeyman group or individual of the week} is going to wreck everything we’ve built for ourselves” is their clarion call. Faith that God is still in charge and that whether we live or die we are still the Lord’s don’t seem to enter into the equation. As I see it, When the Lord comes again, will He find faith on earth? indeed seems to be the question of the hour. A positive answer appears doubtful given how riddled with fear American Christians are. A big difference exists between being sober and being fearful;  it’s past time for us to know the difference.

I’ve watched a few more ministry flameouts, big ones. That’s all I’ll say. You probably know who.  No need to bury more of our wounded, though some seem eager and ready for the task.

All in all, it makes you wonder if the people behind all this mania realize how damaging they have become to the cause of Christ. The fighters, the fearmongers, the detractors of the flameouts—which of them is bettering the case for the Gospel?

People of God, don’t get involved in this garbage. Go about your commission. Don’t veer off the path. Don’t listen to the siren calls. A lot of people out there are using the guise of Christianity to sow discord, anxiety, and rebellion. Ignore them and go about your godly business.

Lost people look to the Church for answers. It’s time for us to grow up and start offering them.

Stuff I Don’t Get–A New Series

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Back in the blogging Stone Age of 2003, when I first started writing Cerulean Sanctum, I used to get commenters who claimed I was a know-it-all.

I don’t get those kinds of comments or e-mails anymore because time has set that record straight. Many answers to common questions about life and faith elude me.

While I try to share with you what God is teaching me, big chunks of ignorance still cloud my vision. Which is why I’m starting this series.

In the next few weeks, I’m going to pose the spiritual questions I struggle with. Some are brainbusters, some questions of logical inconsistencies, and some just paradoxical puzzles concerning different denominational or theological oddities.

No matter the question, I hope each post gets plenty of feedback from readers. Seriously, I want to understand—and perhaps others of you have the same questions—so your responses will make or break this series.

Thank you in advance for your wise answers, and please stay tuned for tomorrow’s question.

The Christian, Rage, and Powerlessness

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It started with a lack of bacon.

Too many people at Wendy’s ordered items with bacon, so the crew had to cook more. The bacon lovers in line were told it would be six minutes, so we gathered calmly off to one side and began to chat. EnragedOne man steered the conversation to politics. In minutes, I wondered if a riot would break out.

While people were willing to wait patiently for food items filled with bacony goodness, patience is in small supply when it comes to waiting till November to “throw the bums outta Capitol Hill.” People aren’t just mad at the condition of America 2010, they’re downright enraged.

People are livid at overreaching government, at seeing their tax dollars given to scoundrels, at watching themselves move down the class ranks, at losing their jobs, at losing their homes, at losing out on every dream they once had.

They seethe because the gulf fills with oil while the people responsible for the disaster lie about its severity.  Companies that created the economic mess ask for more aid and then give it as bonuses to leaders responsible for the mess. The country has lost control of its borders. Nuts and flakes in Iran build the Bomb. Corporations lay off hardworking people and reward sloth because the slothful know where the skeletons are buried. Health insurers begin terminating policies, arguing that Obamacare will take care of everyone—some day—leaving the average Joe buried in debt as he pays either outrageous costs for replacement insurance or nightmarish costs for  health care, living in dread that he may one day get sick and need medical attenti0n that will  cost him all his savings, his kids’ college funds, and even his home.

The inability to stop this downward spiral breeds fear. Like a tapeworm, powerlessness eats at people’s guts. They can’t stop the insanity; they can only be carried along with it. And that spawns this stark rage that many feel.

I have known Christians who seem to escape these trials. I have known Christians who have been buried by a relentless series of landslide-like events. Both groups have been faithful, yet one seems to attract trouble like a bare bulb at night brings in the summertime moths.

And it goes much deeper than just calamity or human failings. I was talking with a friend on Monday about the way we live our lives, and it seems to both of us that trying to fall back to a more sane position only creates chaos in the poorly thought-out systems we’ve created for ourselves. Eating locally grown food sounds like a wise idea, but what instabilities are created by a large-scale move away from food trucked in from long distances, instabilities whose ripple effects can’t be predicted easily?

It is one thing to pray that God will deal with the wicked people who knowingly hurt others in the pursuit of cold, hard cash. But what of the janitor who cleans the wicked people’s buildings? Is he in collusion with evil? And is he us?

And how does one pray about entrenched systems that are not so much empowered by evil principalities but by mistaken notions that were innocent five decades ago but which have now bred dependencies from which we cannot escape readily? Are all wrongs rightable? And was that wrong truly wrong at the time of its conception? What do we do when black and white have dulled over time to gray?

If others are like me, then I suspect more and more people wake up feeling inadequate to the task. In simpler days, choices seemed to come easily. Now, though, it feels as if every decision that life presents is like a bucket of murky water with something awful lurking at the bottom out of sight. We have made everything in life so complex that any simple act of deciding is fraught with danger, consisting, in many cases, of wondering whether the potential sea snake hiding in one bucket is more lethal than the possible blue-ringed octopus in the other.

What this means for modern Christians is hard to fathom. Are we immune to bad outcomes? If not, how then do we navigate the complexity of modern life? How does one break out of the system when one is a product of that system? Would Jesus even have us attempt to break out? Or does conformity and relenting not matter in the wider scheme of things? Is powerlessness good or bad? And is numb consent to the downright infuriating aspects of life a sin?

We in America are definitely control freaks; we want everything just so. That’s not of faith. But then the counter to that is to wonder whether simply allowing ourselves to be swept along powerlessly is not of faith either. And if it isn’t, where is the happy medium?

As a Christian, my tendency is to immediately answer by saying that faith,  prayer, abiding in Christ, and Bible reading are the answers. Certainly, faith brings us through all trials. Yet what is the faithful answer to a nuclear Iran that will certainly attack Israel? How do we meet the health care needs of people without bankrupting our country? Does every issue have a solution, or are some problems destined always to diminish us?

And most of all, how should you and I, such small people, live in the face of these issues?

I feel for angry people. I truly do. Jesus has an answer for them. My deficiency is that I don’t always know what that answer might be or how to bring it about. And I believe that if we were honest with ourselves, many of us will realize that more and more issues are harder to resolve than we might think—that is, if we are thinking at all.