“My complaint is that they are spiritual warmongers, constantly expanding the arena of spiritual warfare, mapping it onto geographical territory and divisive politics in a deeply destabilizing and antidemocratic manner.”
– Matthew D. Taylor

Like many of us, I’ve been puzzled the past few years with what is happening between religion and politics in America. It has become more intertwined than I remember seeing in my lifetime. And not in a good way.

That’s one reason I wanted to read Matthew D. Taylor’s new book, The Violent Take It by Force: The Christian Movement That Is Threatening Our Democracy. Taylor is a religious studies scholar and an expert on Christian nationalism. In this book he lays out his meticulous research on the subject.

Why This Book Matters

Taylor takes us back 30 years to explain the origins of the New Apostolic Reformation (NAR), a branch of Christianity that he says is currently involved in the reshaping of religion and politics in the U.S. today. Detailing it through history, Taylor helps clarify how Donald Trump was able to galvanize such strong evangelical support from NAR.

Taylor also details information about the Seven Mountains Mandate and the Cyrus Anointing. In his analysis, he connects some of the people in some of these movements to far-right political activism. He illustrates how this has seeped into several churches, turning select worship services into political rallies that can encourage justification for real-world violence.

Key Insights

One of the most compelling aspects of the book to me is Taylor’s examination of how NAR ideologies in some circles may have contributed to the January 6th Capitol riot. He connects dots between spiritual rhetoric and physical violence and, in his opinion, warns that such events are just the visible tip of the iceberg. He says that what lies underneath will continue to threaten democracy.

“Democracy is jeopardized by people so locked into the narratives of their own righteousness, their own certainty that they know what God wants, that they march right past the deadly conflagration they helped to instigate and never pause to consider the consequences.”

But Taylor’s specific advice is to other Christians. He says, “The best people to defang extremist Christianity are Christians.” If they see toxic Christian ideologies that don’t represent their faith, he says it is their responsibility to speak up. As is evident in other times in history, silence in the face of extremism is complicity.

Why You Should Read This Book

Taylor’s expertise and analysis can come across as scholarly, but this book is not for academics only; it’s for anyone concerned about the state of American democracy.

He wants this book to serve as a wake-up call for Christians and non-Christians alike, urging readers to recognize the iceberg lurking beneath the waters of American Christianity.

But politics and faith aside, all of us must aim to stop dehumanizing others, even if they are dehumanizing us. We can watch what we say, treat others respectfully, and avoid categorizing individuals as demonic or evil or even dumb, based on who they vote for or whether they do or do not worship a deity.

“As we saw on January 6, this rhetoric of spiritual violence stokes real-world violence. You can only proclaim that a group of people or a political party is filled with demons for so long before someone decides that those demonic vessels must actually be physically attacked.”

Final Thoughts

If you’re like me and want to safeguard the future of democracy and each other, The Violent Take It by Force is a book to challenge you. It’s not an easy read—it took me a couple of months to get through it—but it is an important one. We each are responsible for where we go from here. Let’s rise to the challenge in humane ways.

Be an ethical and peaceful person. Keep an open mind, a compassionate heart, and extend helping hands toward your neighbors.

And please, don’t let your beliefs make you violent.

Share your thoughts in the comments.

My thanks to NetGalley for
the review copy of this book

Statistics consistently show that more and more people in the U.S. are leaving their churches. Some change religions, some change denominations, and some leave faith behind altogether.

But do you know why?

It may not be why you think.

This is what Sarah McCammon writes about in her new book, The Exvangelicals: Loving, Living, and Leaving the White Evangelical Church.

McCammon was once all-in among the evangelical culture. She grew up with a sincere Christian faith in a deeply evangelical family. But bit by bit, the questions and doubts she had about her own beliefs as well as about the Christian world around her grew too loud to ignore.

She discovered she was not alone. She writes that people leaving conservative religious communities (“exvangelicals” emerged as a common hashtag in 2016) are “finding ample resources, a widening array of spaces for dialogue around deconstruction, and new opportunities for building communities around this shared experience.”

But why are they leaving?

There’s no single, simple answer. McCammon writes:

“For many of the exvangelicals I’ve met, those Christian spaces feel less and less like home, and Jesus seems harder to find in them. And for some, following Jesus, or, at least the truth as they see it, means stepping out of those spaces—out of that ‘parallel universe’—and onto a new and unfamiliar path.”

As she points out in her book, everybody has their own story.

So if you really want to know why someone you know has left the church (or if you are that person yourself), have a conversation about it with them.

Don’t assume you know. Don’t buy into rumors floating around. Don’t read one article on a blog and think now you understand.

It’s often more complicated and nuanced than you’d imagine, including this explanation often used about them: that they leave the church so they can just please themselves and have a good time.

McCammon writes:

“The idea that people leave evangelicalism out of nothing more than a desire to ‘sin’ is frustrating to many of the people I interviewed—and to me.”

The Exvangelicals is full of first-hand stories as well as data from multiple research studies. McCammon, a national political correspondent for NPR, writes with clarity and grace, using her in-depth journalism skills to tell a complex story in an easily digestible way.

Instead of judging those who leave, listen to them talk about it. And if you can’t talk with someone in person about it, at least read books like McCammon’s to hear from the exvangelicals themselves.

Share your thoughts in the comments.

my thanks to NetGalley for
the review copy of this book

The train tracks were a few miles from my childhood home, but deep in the night, when the house was quiet, I could occasionally hear the train whistle blow.

I’d lay in my bed—waiting, wondering, WORRYING—is this the trumpet call of the Lord? Is this my final moment here on earth? Will my final fate be heaven or burning in hell forever?

It terrified me as a child.

As an adult, a train whistle no longer scares me. But I do occasionally remember how I felt as a child. I wonder about the trauma it stored in my body.

Religious Trauma Varies

Reading Laura E. Anderson’s new book helped me get a clearer perspective of my childhood and adult experiences with religion. In When Religion Hurts You: Healing from Religious Trauma and the Impact of High-Control Religion, Anderson explains that not all religious trauma comes from big dramatic incidents, like sexualized violence. Thankfully I had none of those.

But even smaller, day-in and day-out circumstances can be traumatic, if they’re unhealthy ones. Anderson explains that adverse religious experiences (AREs) are often common within high-control religions (HCRs) such as the one I grew up in.

For instance, Anderson says this about the purity culture in HCRs,

“Women are [expected] to be the gatekeepers of men’s purity of mind, heart, and body so that they do not sin. Women are taught that their bodies are dangerous; men are taught that their minds are.”

As teen girls in my church, we were taught that we were responsible for the safety of all men based on the clothes we wore. No spaghetti-strap shirts, no shorts too short, no dresses too tight, else we would be responsible for sending males into frenzies they couldn’t be held responsible for.

It was an unhealthy extreme mindset for both females and males.

Moving into adulthood, we were taught that “the world” was a dangerous place so don’t trust those outside our one true church denomination (although we didn’t call ourselves a denomination); the world would lead us astray down its slippery slope. Yet at the same time, we were also taught not to trust ourselves because, as Anderson writes in the book,

“Many HCRs teach that humans are inherently sinful, that they cannot trust themselves, and that they will never choose good on their own.”

Who were we to trust? The male authority figures in our church. We were to believe that their beliefs about the Bible (and thus life) were the most accurate ones. There was a certain safety in that certainty.

Until you realized they weren’t always right either. Because no one is.

Fortunately for me, I had a wise father with a bit of a rebellious streak. Although he was a firm believer and had his own strong opinions, he encouraged us as children to explore our doubts, and to question what didn’t make sense to us. As a result, after many, many years, I eventually stepped away from this denomination of my youth into greater freedom of love and grace.

Pursue Your Healing

Anderson says there are many ways to begin healing from religious trauma. For starters, make sure you are meeting your basic needs.

“When a client comes in with high anxiety and stress, one of the first areas I check on is basic needs. Are they getting enough sleep? Enough food? Water? Movement? Connection to humans?”

Since trauma gets trapped in bodies, Anderson suggests we nurture our bodies for healing.

“When I love my body, when I humanize myself, I love and humanize others. This is an act of rebellion in HCRs. Loving your body opens space to love, understand, and have empathy and compassion for every other body, no matter how similar or different those bodies are from your own.”

Showing compassion to yourself is also an important step toward self-regulation when triggered by traumas. This provides a framework for learning to trust yourself and to grow in tolerance and understanding of others with different perspectives.

The rewards from a journey of healing are numerous. Anderson concludes her book with this encouragement:

“You will have moments of celebration as you realize how far you’ve come, as you inhale the present moment, and as you look around at your brilliant, messy, beautiful self and know that you are free.”

Share your thoughts in the comments.

Read more:

• What’s Your Idol, America?
  Learn more about Christian Nationalism and the idols of power, fear, and violence.
• A Spiritual Memoir Every Month to Expand Your Inner World
  Here are twelve spiritual memoirs I read last year, a diversity of spiritual traditions and paths.
• Is Questioning Your Religion Bad? Or Instead Is It Healthy?
  Look at 4 ways to overcome our biases in religion.

My thanks to Netgalley and Baker Academic & Brazos
Press for the review copy of When Religion Hurts You

• What if . . . your neighborhood homeowner association passed around a flyer that said only adherents of Hinduism can apply to live in your neighborhood?
• Or what if . . . the governor of your state declared that as of 2024, the only people welcomed in must be followers of Islam?
• Now what if . . . a candidate for the top position of your country declared that the only people allowed in are ones who like the Christian religion?

I hope in each case we see the unfairness of the proposal, regardless of our own personal beliefs.

However, according to survey after survey, there is a strong sector of white evangelical Christians who might agree with the third scenario.

I made up the first two “what if’s.” But the third is taken from the actual statements of a candidate in New Hampshire on October 23. He said (among other things), “If you don’t like our religion…then we don’t want you in our country and you are not getting in…. We don’t want you! Get out of here!”

Those who believe that America should become a Christian theocracy are known as adherents of Christian nationalism.

It’s one thing to desire others to believe a religion that you think is beneficial and true, but it’s another thing to require it of all citizens or to exclude those from civic life who don’t believe as you.

Whether you agree with Christian nationalism or are opposed to it, I highly recommend this new book about Christian nationalism—by a Christian—to help you learn more about it.

American Idolatry: How Christian Nationalism Betrays the Gospel and Threatens the Church is written by a leading scholar on the subject, Andrew Whitehead.

In the book, Whitehead explains everything you want to know (and even things you’d rather not know) about Christian nationalism. He makes the case that the greatest threat to Christianity in the US may be coming from within.

How does Whitehead define Christian nationalism? It is . . .

“a cultural framework asserting that all civic life in the United States should be organized according to a particular form of conservative Christianity.” 

If you’re a Bible reader, you’ll remember that Jesus taught his disciples to serve their neighbors, to even love their enemies. He gave the example of standing with the marginalized and calling out those who misused their power. He made no guarantees of a life of ease or privilege; actually, quite the opposite.

But according to Whitehead, Christian nationalism (and specifically white Christian nationalism) promotes the opposite. It pushes social hierarchies, authoritarian social control, an acceptance of violence to maintain order, and strict boundaries around national identity, civic participation, and social belonging that fall along ethno-racial lines.

Three of the more dangerous and powerful idols inside Christian nationalism are power, fear, and violence, things Jesus never promoted nor exemplified.

In American Idolatry, Whitehead shares many examples and cites many studies of the prevalence of Christian nationalism in the US. He also gives a list of identifying markers of Christian nationalism.

The picture of Christian nationalism is grim and discouraging for those who view Christianity as a religion of humility, vulnerability, and empathy.

But Whitehead proposes a solution to Christian nationalism.

“Instead of choosing fear, American Christians can choose to act in opposition to fear.

We confront and oppose fear by choosing to listen to and love racial and ethnic minority groups through seeking justice.

We confront and oppose fear by embracing and building relationships with those who worship differently than we do or who do not worship at all.”

Whitehead lists several ways that Christian organizations can counter the effects of Christianity nationalism, such as:

• Sharing portions of their wealth with minority denominations, schools, and congregations
• Developing true bonds of relationship across color lines
• Advocating for more equality in health, wealth, and educational opportunities at the state and federal levels
• Erasing “us” vs. “them” boundaries personally and collectively

Whitehead says that when he looks at white Christian nationalism, he cannot find Christ. His hope is to see American Christianity remade “to look a lot more like Christ than a servant of empire.”

Regardless of your religion or your politics, Whitehead’s final statement of the book perhaps says it best:

“Sometimes, the bravest thing we have is hope.”

Share your thoughts in the comments.

My thanks to NetGalley for the
review copy of American Idolatry

Here is the church
Here is the steeple
Open the door
And see all the people

It’s another Saturday morning. A cold one.

A few years ago, the first Saturday of the month meant Jeff and I would be at Outdoor Church behind Manna House. It’s a gathering for those who don’t feel comfortable and/or welcome inside the “houses of worship” sprinkled throughout the city, for those who believe and for those who don’t believe but are hungry for a free meal.

I can’t say I know how they feel. I’ve generally felt welcome in any church building I’ve visited.

But then again, I can play the part. Clean clothes. Showered body. Arrival in a heated SUV.

These folks at Outdoor Church on Saturdays come mainly by foot. Some with alcohol on their breath. Or an empty belly. Or a demon they’re trying to outrun. (Not that different from Sunday morning in a traditional church?)

And today, once again, I’m questioning my role.

I stand in the bedroom of my house early that morning, after putting on three layers of shirts and a couple pairs of socks, and ask Jeff, “Tell me again why I’m going?”

I’ve caught him at a weak moment, too. Today we’re both strongly pulled to spend our Saturday on personal projects at home.

But Jeff finds a motivating answer, “Because there’s somebody there you can love on.”

I’m sold. I get in the car. We drive into town.

But when we get there, we’re alone.

No volunteers’ cars are in the parking lot preparing a hot meal for the hungry after the service. No chairs are set up outside for the guests. No guitars are set up for the worship band.

No people anywhere.

This is why I came? For canceled church? Where is this stranger I was supposed to love on?

Actually, it might not be a stranger. Maybe instead it’s someone I know quite well. Someone who needed a push out the door to put her mind on other things. Someone who needed to prepare her heart to serve even if there would be no one there to serve.

Maybe, just maybe, I was there to know that even when it’s just God and me, we still “have church.” Just being together is church.

So Jeff and I drive on. Drop a few books off at the library. Meander the back roads home. Take off all the extra layers.

And feel satisfied.

There will be people gathered at Outdoor Church again another day. But on this Saturday, waking up again to God in me, rediscovering the house of God inside my own body—I love knowing it can happen anytime, anywhere. Without doors, without steeples. And sometimes even without people.

Where is the church?

It’s here.
It’s now.
In me.

And it’s full.

Where have you seen God lately? Share in the comments.

revised from the archives

no images? click here

Happy Birthday or Feliz Cumpleaños?

Jeff and I are relaxing at a hotel swimming pool in Georgia. We just arrived after finishing a nearby Christian conference for the day.

It’s a hot afternoon, but the only other people around the pool are a few families preparing for a birthday party.

Not intentionally, we casually overhear their conversation. Yet we understand none of it.

They’re all speaking in Spanish. My high school Spanish + my adult duolingo lessons + trying to speak Spanish when I was in Central America is no match for their speed and vocabulary in their native tongue.

They’re now ready to officially begin their party. They gather the birthday girl Sophia, they uncover her birthday cake, and they light the candles.

And then they launch into the song: Happy Birthday to You, Happy Birthday to You, Happy Birthday Sophia,….

But the song is in all English, no Spanish. Beginning to end.

Why the switch to English just for the song?

Code-Switching to Christianese

Code-switching is a term to describe alternating back and forth between two languages or dialects. It comes naturally to people who are bilingual. They can speak one language in one situation, and speak another language in a different situation.

While I can’t code-switch between languages like English and Spanish, there is a language I can easily switch to: Christianese.

If you’ve been part of the Christian world for long, you’ll know the vocabulary, too:

• Such a sweet time of fellowship.
• God led me to call you.
• I heard a word from the Lord last night.
• Do you have your quiet time in the morning?
• Let’s have a word of prayer.
• Lord willing, I’ll be able to go.
• We love doing life together.
• Just put it in God’s hands.
• Don’t ruin your witness.

Nothing is wrong with these phrases. And if you’re a fellow believer who grew up in the culture, we could easily communicate in whole paragraphs using just this language.

Watch this funny video, “Shoot Christians Say,” to hear what it sounds like.

For some people, hearing these phrases in Christianese brings comfort. It feels like home. It’s a native tongue they best understand.

To others, Christianese sounds as foreign to them as the Spanish words sounded to me at the pool party. They can’t interpret the meaning of the message.

And yet to another group of people, Christianese is more than different; it’s offensive. Perhaps they believe the words aren’t true or are being used incorrectly or insincerely. Perhaps they view Christianese itself as exclusionary. Perhaps they’ve been hurt by the Christian culture and hearing its vocabulary triggers more pain.

A Common Language

What language do we need to speak when we’re surrounded by such a diversity of listeners?

Love language.

The best language is one in which we communicate to the person in front of us that they are loved, seen, and heard.

Sometimes that means we might actually use words like “blessed” and “testimony” and “repentant.”

But other times, it means intentionally avoiding those words, instead using words that don’t require insider knowledge or that don’t carry any baggage. If it doesn’t sound like love, it doesn’t sound like God anyway.

Why did the Spanish-speaking family at the pool switch to English to sing the Happy Birthday song? I’ll never know. Maybe it’s what the birthday girl Sophia wanted. Maybe it’s what was most familiar. Maybe they just wanted to, and didn’t even think about it.

Sophia seemed happy about it, whatever the reason.

May we achieve the same result on our listeners.

Whichever language we use, as much as we’re able, let’s intentionally use words best interpreted as love to the listener’s ear.

Love is indeed a universal language.

Do you speak more than one language? When do you code-switch? Share your thoughts in the comments.

“When this country gonna love us?” he asked. “I don’t know, bro,” I said.
– Danté Stewart

We don’t like talking about this subject: white supremacy at church.

As a white person, we don’t usually see white supremacy.

Because we’re white.

If we really want to know if it’s there, we need to ask a Black person instead.

If you don’t know a Black person to ask (or you’re not comfortable doing so), read Danté Stewart’s new book, Shoutin’ in the Fire: An American Epistle.

Stewart was a rising Black preacher in a predominantly white space. Until he no longer wanted to be there.

“As I looked around the church, it wasn’t just that I didn’t see people who looked like me. It was that I didn’t see the sadness, the anger, the rage that was crying out in my body. I didn’t see us, I didn’t feel us, I didn’t hear us. We were invisible.”

How can we do better than this? What can we do differently? How can we bring the invisible people out of the shadows?

The first step is to come clean. Get out of denial.

Stewart writes,

“The message became clearer: White supremacy was still our greatest sin and our deepest delusion.”

Another author, Robert P. Jones, shares 7 things white Christians can do to recognize white supremacy at church.

If you want somewhere to start, choose one of these 7 things. (Read Jones’ whole article here. He’s also written a book, White Too Long: The Legacy of White Supremacy in American Christianity; I have not read it yet.)

1. Examine your church building and grounds for ways it communicates whiteness (white Jesus? white Advent characters? only white groups meeting there during the week?)

2. Look at your church website and social media. Does it convey solidarity with Black and Brown people in your community, or just whites?

3. Look at the children’s curriculum. Are the pictures of only white people who lived in Bible times even though they were from the Middle East and Africa?

4. Read your church’s history. Ask questions about why and how it formed.

5. Examine the words of the songs sung during worship. Do they associate white with good and black with bad?

6. Listen to the sermons. Are they silent about issues of racial justice?

7. Look at the church budget. The money follows the heart.

Jones concludes his article with this:

“One sure sign of the continued presence of white supremacy is the outright resistance you will inevitably encounter from some and the protests of discomfort from others. But this is also evidence of the importance of the work.”

I don’t have the answers to solve this problem. But I recognize the importance of the work.

Let’s keep learning. Let’s keep changing.

* * *

Share your thoughts in the comments.

My thanks to NetGalley + Convergent Books
for the review copy of Shoutin’ in the Fire

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

The countdown has begun.

In twenty minutes my doorbell will ring. Then it will be too late. I grab my husband and ask if we can pray together. Now.

In a moment of holy irony, I pray with a man—right before the visitor at the door will ask me not to.

I struggled as a woman in a very conservative church for a long time. Should I stay and work for change? Or escape and enjoy freedom elsewhere?

For years I was determined to stay.

Before the newest crisis about to erupt at my door, my friend Kay and I had started a new Sunday class for teen girls. We focused on how Jesus touched the lives of women in the Bible. And how he continues to touch ours.

The day before our first class, Kay and I were pulled aside by a godly woman a few years our senior. She asked to see our classroom. Then holding us both by the hand, she bowed her head and prayed for us there. We felt the power God gives through prayer.

The following day, early Sunday morning, a peer entered our room, again to pray, asking Jesus to transform us, including the teen girls, into his image.

It suited our goals for the class: To raise up a new generation of women who will not stay silent, who are not afraid to pray out loud, like I was afraid to for much of my life.

Talking things over with each other and with God matures us in many ways.

Men and Women Praying Together?

But what about women praying with men?

Community calls for a blending of all who are made in God’s image. At my physical family gatherings, both males and females talked to my dad together.

At our spiritual family gatherings, can’t both sons and daughters there also talk to our Father together?

In our Sunday night small group, we prayed in mixed company for years. It grew us closer to God. Closer to each other.

But no longer?

The visitor at my door, now on my couch, is confirming the decision: No. Not for now.

The leaders are asking all women—both young and old, in large or small church gatherings—to refrain from verbalizing our prayers in front of a man until they complete yet another long study of women’s roles in the church.

A brother had come to the leaders a few weeks earlier, complaining his conscience was offended by hearing women talk to God in his presence. He believed a woman should not verbalize a prayer if a man is in the room.

I was one of those women who had prayed in front of this man in group settings. I had no idea it bothered him.

So now what?

What happens if it’s a problem to him if we do, but a problem to us if we don’t?

Follow God’s Spirit

How do we create spiritual breathing room for us both to follow our consciences? To find grace in the tension? To maintain unity in honoring God?

It took the church leaders a very, very long time to conclude their study on women’s roles.

After awhile I gave up waiting on their answer to come. And I followed God’s Spirit leading me elsewhere instead.

I believed God would not put limitations on who I prayed with. He would rather I pray than run away from opportunities to talk to him with others.

Conversations in God’s presence aren’t biased concerning gender. He invites us all to talk.

Together.

I remain friends with the church leader who sat on my couch that night a few years ago. I understand he had a job to do, and he was trying his best to do it.

But I had a job to do, too. My responsibility was to grow deeper in my relationship with God. It wasn’t about girl-power versus boy-power, but about God-power.

God empowers us all with voice. All the men. And all the women.

Let’s keep praying together.

Beth Allison Barr on Biblical Womanhood

I just finished a most interesting book on how the church and culture have viewed women’s roles through the ages. I highly recommend Beth Allison Barr’s new book, The Making of Biblical Womanhood: How the Subjugation of Women Became Gospel Truth.

Dr. Barr, a history professor at Baylor University, writes from both a historical perspective and a Christian perspective. She tells us that,

“Christians are, historically speaking, pretty late to the patriarchy game. We may claim that the gendered patterns of our lives are different from those assumed in mainstream culture, but history tells a different tale.”

She says that Christian patriarchy has long mimicked the patriarchy of the non-Christian world.

And she asks that if Christians are called to be different from the world, shouldn’t we treat women differently, too? This is the world’s way:

“From the ancient world through the modern world, history told a continuous story of patriarchy—of women suppressed, oppressed, devalued, and silenced.”

But in Christ there is no longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female, but all are one in Christ Jesus (Galatians 3:28).

“This is what is radical. This is what makes Christianity so different from the rest of human history.”

As I reflect back on my own past in the church, I look ahead to a brighter future. Barr suggests we all should.

“Historically, one of the greatest problems for women is that we do not remember our past and we do not work together to change our future. We do not stand together. But what if we did?”

What if we all did?

Share your thoughts in the comments.

Read more:

• Permission Granted: Pray
  God made this clear—we have his permission to pray aloud. He approves. Prayer can be not only between God and me, but also between God and me and you.
• When You Want to Pray WITH Others, Not Just FOR Others
  Have you prayed with a friend lately? Is it easy or hard for you to pray aloud with friends?
• This Public Prayer Stirs Up Grace
  I wasn’t sure what the response would be to Larry’s request. Our ragtag group surprised me.

My thanks to NetGalley, Baker Academic
& Brazos Press for the review copy of this book

Online Church

Since March 2020, I haven’t been inside the building where my church meets.

For a short period, they closed down. But sooner rather than later, they opened back up.

But I wasn’t comfortable returning. It didn’t feel safe. While some covid precautions were taken, they didn’t meet the CDC guidelines. Too many virus outbreaks occurred.

So I watched from home. And that was good.

Until it wasn’t. I’d occasionally switch to another church’s online service that I liked even better. And over time, I switched to a third church’s online service in another state that I preferred best of all, where I saw Jesus most of all.

But now it’s decision time.

Go or No Go?

Jeff and I are both fully vaccinated now. The CDC has given us the scientific green light to return to in-person services.

Yet I’m still hanging back.

Why?

• I’m disappointed by the way many churches mishandled pandemic protocols.
• I’m discouraged by the lack of concern they showed for each others’ health.
• I’m uncomfortable with the extreme sides taken by the people on the pew that feels disrespectful to Christ’s message of unity and love.

How can I go back to that?

One step at a time.

My Steps

First, I need to do a heart cleanse.

God knows my heart better than I do, so I need his Spirit to show me what attitudes I need to release, what forgiveness I need to offer, what grudges I need to repent of.

Then second, I need to clear my head of biases.

I’m old enough to understand that no church is perfect because no people are perfect. My expectations need to be realigned with what’s reasonable, not with what’s ideal.

And third, I need to make a move.

It can be a temporary move. My initial decision doesn’t have to be a permanent one; it just needs to be a forward one. It may take trial and error to find the best place we need to be. Maybe it’s where we left off. Maybe it’s not.

But I won’t know if I don’t go and see.

God Can Be Trusted

It’s a new season and we’ve been changed by this past year’s experience.

Faith has shifted for many.

by David Hayward

But God is still trustworthy.

We can still place our confidence in him, even while we regain our footing on which people to trust, even which church to trust. God’s perpetual love for us as individuals and as a group remains steady.

God still has my trust.

Featured Post

Pam Ecrement’s post on “Getting It Backwards” caught my eye this week. She writes on how easy it is for get turned around before we even realize it.

I want to make sure that I’m turned in the right direction. Pam’s gentle encouragement reminds me to listen to the Lord’s voice above all.

Read all of Pam’s post here at her blog, then link up your own blog posts below.

“Getting It Backwards”

Have you felt mixed up about church, too? What has helped you make a decision to return?

I’d appreciate your comments.

1. Share 1 or 2 of your most recent CHRISTIAN LIVING posts. (No DIY, crafts, recipes, or inappropriate articles.) All links are randomly sorted.

2. Comment on 1 or 2 other links. Grace & Truth linkup encourages community.   

3. Every host features one entry from the previous week. To be featured, include this button or link back here on your post (mandatory to be featured, but not to participate).

We encourage you to follow our hosts on their blogs or social media.

MAREE DEE – Embracing the Unexpected
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HEATHER HART & VALERIE RIESE – Candidly Christian
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LAUREN SPARKS
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LISA BURGESS – Lisa notes
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When I dreamed of marrying Jeff, I practiced writing what my new name would look like: Mrs. Lisa Burgess. When a bride takes on her husband’s name, it’s symbolic of a oneness like no other.

What about when the church, the bride of Christ, takes on His name?

Are we wearing His name well?

Don’t take a poll. You’ll be disappointed. Our ratings as Christians are poor. For too long we’ve been a bad taste in the mouth of the world. Many may like our Christ, but not everybody likes His followers.

Are we not living up to our name?

Read it all here

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I’m writing today at Do Not Depart. Will you join me there on living up to our name?