From time to time, I feel like we ( my husband and I) should have done the typical thing at our church and have a baby dedication.  We didn’t do this for either of our children.  I am sort of a traditionalist in this regard, and it isn’t something that I quite understand the purpose of in our Baptist tradition.

Is the belief in the Trinity necessary?  Can God be God–or do we have to accept God in Three Persons?

In a Christian Century article, Peter Rollins talks about church or perhaps non church.  He is a leader in the Emergent church movement in in the UK.  Ikon is the name of his group.  He says in the article that “Ikon has lead some people out of the church and some into it.”  It appears that his group wants the discussion and doubt of the oddities within Christianity.

One thing he mentioned in the article is that he doesn’t call Ikon a community.  He says when one does this, those searching for community come and the group becomes needy.  The problem with church being a community is that it is expected to call when there is trouble.  If it doesn’t, people get hurt.  Ikon the institution doesn’t care about your problems, but perhaps the people you develop with people within will lead to community.  Interesting point of view to me.  Thoughts?

Last night I watched this documentary .  Friends of God: A Road Trip with Alexandria Pelosi.  She visited some of the same places that Bill Maher did in Religulous notably, The Holy Land Amusement Park.  She also had clips from the founder of the Creation Museum.  In my opinion, she is very respectful of the people she interviews.  She may show surprise by some of their answers, but not in a mocking tone.  She was looking for an answer to “Who are the Evangelicals?”  There isn’t one answer.  She finds suburban mega church goers, a rural couple with a large homeschooling family (12 children), Jerry Falwell’s Liberty University Students, throwing in a bit of Haggard and Osten.

What Would Jesus Buy? Is very different.  Different doesn’t necessarily mean bad.  I actually really enjoyed this off beat documentary.  It isn’t so much about religious views, but our culture of over buying and over consuming.  Rev. Billy is not your typical pastor, but I respected how consistent he was throughout this documentary.  When he needed a sweater, he went to a small town store.  He wanted to know where it was made.  He is over the top in his delivery to get people to notice, but I thought he was genuine.  This says a lot, I am skeptical.

Religulous was outstanding–for the open minded.  It is more in your face with a message that all religion has crazy ideas and crazy followers.  A few of the people interviewed reacted strongly to Maher’s questions.  I enjoyed the dialogue with those who agreed, yeah there are some crazy ideas.  A man outside of the Vatican agreed, it doesn’t make sense.  The actor who portrayed Jesus at the Holy Land Amusement Park answered questions in a respectful manner.  This film has the same director as Borat.  It is purposefully in your face–although I found it to be thought provoking at the same time.

I recently read Dating Jesus: A Story of Fundamentalism, Feminism, and the American Girl by Susan Campbell.  As soon as I heard about it and read the Amazon reviews, I knew I had to read it.

I have a lot in common with Campbell.  I grew up in small towns and in my early years attended a church of Christ.  Also, like in my family, it was her stepfather that brought the family into the church of Christ, though he seemed less committed to it than my own stepfather.  My stepdad was a school principal but he was also a church of Christ preacher–sometimes just a spare lay preacher and sometimes the only preacher, depending on the need, so he was very involved.  My mom married my stepfather when I was just 2 so I was brought into his church very young.  I was also baptized by full immersion in the church of Christ.

Throughout the early part of the book, her experiences resonated with me, reminding me of my own history.  I remember realizing I didn’t rank as high as boys not just at church but at school.  I remember declaring I wished I was a boy.  I tried to be a tomboy, though it actually didn’t come naturally.  I joined the boys at recess when they played football and my big brothers taught met to wrestle and play basketball.  I was not the athlete Campbell apparently was, but I did give it a try.  I remember being offended that if we played football in P.E. the teacher insisted it was just tag football if girls were involved (often just me) but the boys could play tackle football if I sat out.  So the boys (though good friends of mine) really preferred if I didn’t play so they could tackle.

Like Campbell I also noticed that I didn’t rank as high as the boys spiritually.  Even though (again, like her) I could beat any boy at a Bible Bowl competition and memorize scriptures like nobody’s business, my brothers were the ones asked to pray before dinner, while the girls were just expected to help make and clean up after dinner.  Men always did the speaking and the preaching at church, though at home I liked to line up my stuffed animals in rows and preach to them.

Unlike Campbell, though, my mom was not willing to stay in the church of Christ, particularly because of the fact that instrumental music was not allowed in services and my stepdad disapproved of her even playing hymns on the piano at home (though she did manage to have her own piano, at least).  To this day it surprises me that she ever attempted to join his church when she so loved to play the piano and the organ (and she can play beautifully by ear).  By the time I was around 12, we started attending other churches, thugh we remained on the fundamentalist end of the spectrum.  My mother was raised Assembly of God so I spent some time in AG churches, later we joined a church called a Christian church (actually came out of the same roots as the church of Christ but a bit more open-minded–at least allowed instruments) and finally we became Baptist (she’s still Baptist).

Still, whether church of Christ or Baptist or Assembly of God, like Campbell, I immersed myself fully in church–teaching Vacation Bible School, knocking on doors (though like her also rather reluctantly), etc.  I had a few more opportunities once we moved on to other churches.  In the christian church I was a key leader in my youth group and sang and spoke in front of the church.  In the Baptist church I sang and spoke in front of many churches on revival teams with the Baptist Student Union or during “summer missions”.  Still, we learned that there was a limit–we couldn’t be ministers–we could only “testify” at the pulpit and not “preach”.  (This is not true of every Baptist church–there are female Baptist ministers, but it’s not nationally embraced by the Southern Baptist Convention — see our previous post about Jimmy Carter.)

During college my friends and I began to question our second class citizenship within the church, just as we questioned many other things our fundamentalist friends took on simple faith.  However, unlike Campbell we remained within the church, at least a church, if not the one we grew up attending.  I have found a good home within the Episcopal church, as I’ve said before.

So, I’m rambling a bit, but basically I could relate to Campbell’s early life experiences.  It actually started to drag for me after she got out of her childhood. I never quite understood when exactly she stopped attending church. Apparently she went as far as to go to seminary before dropping out, but I don’t remember anything more specific.  Then she not only left the church of Christ but left church altogether.  Still, she talks about being “haunted by Jesus”.  She can’t quite get Christ out of her system in spite of rejecting that so long rejected her based on her gender.  She still feels she is a Christian, though she knows people from her childhood church wouldn’t recognize her as such.  I felt a little sad for her, actually.  I can’t imagine being without a church entirely, even though I’ve drifted so far from those I grew up in.  I still have that community and that identity and I don’t know if I could ever give it up, even if my doubts one day overwhelmed my faith.

Overall, this memoir touched me as the story of a kindred spirit — a woman who really wanted to embrace the faith her parents gave her, but ultimately couldn’t reconcile it with her own sense of what is right and just and true; a woman who loves and devotes herself to Jesus, only to discover later she’s embraced the wrong Jesus; a woman who discovers that the real Jesus is so much more than the one she’d first been taught to follow.

In the recent discussions here on putmeinabox, church affiliations have been debated.  What do those affiliations say about a person?  Does one have to support the denomination as a whole to be a happy member of a certain church?  I don’t think so.

I admit to being a Baptist.  I find a personal heritage within the Baptist tradition.  I find comfort in the familiar aspects of tradition in some ways.  I like the memories hymns trigger.  I grew up a GA and my girls are in GA programs (Girls in Action, a class for girls teaching missions).  As an adult I have struggled with some aspects of Baptist theology.  I admittedly do not believe some of it, and I question the rest.  I do love the church.

The church to me is a community.  People coming together in various ways.  There are fun times and activities.  People are around when there is a crisis  for support.  I hope these people are around when there are doubts and questions.  Church should be a journey of life together.  Church should people to get along with others, sometimes some  you would not have chosen as a friend. I had unconditional love through church.  I was supported by an extended group of people growing up through my church.  I was taught to give–money to an extent, but more importantly to me is giving my time, my food, my clothing, my compassion, myself.

I met with my pastor and told him I doubt.  He asked what concerned me–I told him most everything.  I don’t doubt God, struggle a bit with Jesus.  I wonder sometimes why Christians think other religious are full of crazy ideas, yet we embrace our own ideas as rational?  I told him, I love church though.  He asked, what do I get out of church that is different than what could be achieved through a social club or charity?  I don’t know the answer.  I feel it is different for me, it may be my personal attachment to the community traditions of church.

Any thoughts?

Here’s some big news today–especially for the three of us as we have all been Southern Baptist at some point, though I am now Episcopalian.  Jimmy Carter has declared he’s leaving the Southern Baptist Convention after 60 years of membership, because of the SBC’s treatment of women and stance on wives being submissive to their husbands.  Amen, brother, was of course my first response.  I only left the SBC 7 years ago when we moved overseas and there was no nearby Baptist church, but I’d grown estranged from Southern Baptist fundamentalism long before.

Then I found this Politics Daily article (found via Episcopal Cafe) and read this:

The question for Carter — and for others who find themselves at odds with leadership — is, when a group you’re deeply involved in starts to move away from your own core beliefs, do you stay and try to change from within or, at some point, do you have to look for the exit? Carter did give the former a shot — in recent years publicly criticizing and distancing himself from church leadership, while staying involved with his church. Now, he’s seeing if absence might do what presence did not.

I knew immediately this is something we needed to discuss here, as it’s the kind of thing Anne, Judith, and I have discussed before–to stay or go in our conservative churches.  I went, but originally out of geography rather than because I was taking some stand.  I believe both Anne and Judith are still Baptists, though Anne is in a more moderate church.  Am I right about this?  What do you all think about leaving instead of sticking it out and changing the church from within?

The title itself seems controversial: Crazy for God: How I Grew Up as One of the Elect, Helped Found the Religious Right, and Lived to Take All (or Almost All) of It Back by Frank Schaeffer.  I somehow managed to grow to adulthood in an evangelical faith without knowing anything about Francis Schaeffer ( father of Frank).  Since reading this book, I notice Francis Schaeffer as a source in many other books.

I first heard of this book when the author was a guest on Fresh Air on NPR.  The conversation between him and Terry Gross immediately resonated with me.  At one point in the interview Frank Schaeffer said if he wanted to be an atheist his first reaction would be to pray for help.  Faith was just a part of him.  At different crossroads in my life I have similar conclusions.  Even in doubt, faith is more than a set of beliefs to me.  It is perhaps an ever changing part, but it remains.

“Memoir obviously demands introspection, and Schaeffer doesn’t hold back…Schaeffer describes a life that was by turns happy, difficult, idyllic, and completely nuts…He’s a world-class storyteller…He can make us laugh, make us wince, and make us really think about things, all at the same time.” — Christianity Today’s Books & Culture

“This is not just a book about rejecting Christian evangelicalism. It has parallels in secular culture and is an honest read about family life and its challenges. Suitable and recommended for large libraries.” — Library Journal

I chose the last comment because, I feel that some may reject this book by the title alone.  It is not a book on rejecting God.  It is a story of a life thus far.  I admit, I love these sort of books.  The reader gets to follow along through the memories of Frank Schaeffer.  His writing is vivid in describing both people and places.  He discusses his parents as people, complete with flaws.  I am aware that some readers have been offended by this portrayal.  I can not know if I would feel differently if I had been raised reading Francis Schaeffer.  I feel that this idea is something this book discusses.  A christian scholar may be well educated and a talented writer–but human and flawed nonetheless.

This book impacted me more than any book I have read in the last year.  I lived a much different life than the author, yet I related to his struggle.  I have felt the need to do things because they are supposed the right things.  Yet, at times the right things seemed so wrong.  I don’t mean to sound glib, but I know many others must also feel the same way.  I have let go of a lot of my fundamentalist Southern Baptist rules.  I have struggled to realize where the rules end and faith began.  It seemed to be too intertwined at times.  Like the author, I have alienated friends and even some family along the way.  I also have lived along enough to start taking back things I once swore I would always believe.  Frank Schaeffer wrote an honest portrayal of life.  This metaphor about life also describes this book–It may have twists and turns along the way, but is well worth the journey.

Rosemary’s recent writings on the ongoing debates in the Episcopal Church reminded me of an excellent book I read a few years ago–a biography of Bishop Gene Robinson.  My review…

Going to Heaven: The Life and Election of Bishop Gene Robinson
Elizabeth Adams
Soft Skull Press, 2006

On November 2, 2003, Gene Robinson garnered national media attention as he became the first openly gay bishop ordained in the Episcopal Church.  Elizabeth Adams offers readers a look inside the man who—though far from ordinary—would be an unlikely candidate for celebrity were it not for the matter of his sexuality and the heated debate currently raging in Christian churches worldwide.   As the subtitle suggests, this is not merely a hagiography of a holy man revered by the author, herself a devoted Episcopalian, but a careful reporting of the history and events leading up to this momentous occasion in the Episcopal Church USA. 

Readers unfamiliar with the rich traditions of the Episcopal Church in America will find themselves either enlightened or weighed down with the detailed descriptions of canon law, procedural minutiae, and numerous clergy and parishioners.  Adams writes from an insider’s perspective, apprising us of everything from Gene’s personal feelings to the security and media arrangements on the day of the consecration.  At times tedious with this detail, it nevertheless gives bountiful insight into how this mainline denomination dealt with and continues to address homosexuality in the church.  The author also provides interesting historical background of the progress of women’s ordination within the denomination.

This book is obviously sympathetic to the position of the full inclusion of gays in all areas of church life and ministry and may offend those of a rigid conservative position (especially Southern Baptists, who are periodically singled at as examples throughout the text).  However, those willing to engage the debate will find a measured representation of the conservative reaction within the Episcopal church at personal, diocesan, national and international levels.  Evangelical readers may be surprised, in fact, to read of the agonizing concern and painstaking efforts made in this process to preserve both orthodoxy and unity within the Church.  The Episcopal Church may have a reputation as “liberal,” but as Adams demonstrates here, the denomination is filled with a diverse array of beliefs and believers.  Bishop Robinson’s consecration was not the result of a secret homosexual agenda steamrolling through the church, but a complex series of slow and painful changes seen simultaneously as victories and defeats depending upon one’s perspective.  The degree to which each decision was regarded prayerfully as well as the reported “Spirit-filled” moments by those interviewed is evocative of Evangelical language.  For those dealing with this issue and others within their own denominations, the words of Bishop Paul Moore may provide them with a new way of thinking about the way forward: “…this is the way progress comes, not smoothly through the system, but by disruption, reflection, and compromise.  History moves in jerks, like an old steam engine pulling out of a station.  Occasionally, I thought to myself, people fall down” (p. 43). 

This is, of course, primarily a biography.  The life of Gene Robinson is related through friendly interviews, insightful anecdotes, and personal observations.  Bishop Robinson shines through as one admired, loved and respected by those who know him.  Those who read this book will be drawn in by his warmth and wisdom, whether or not they agree with his theology and lifestyle.  Bishop Robinson cites John Fortunato’s Embracing the Exile: Healing Journeys for Gay Christians, as the book that changed his life.  Perhaps Going to Heaven will have a similar impact on some of its readers as well.

I watched the movie Doubt tonight. It is a compelling story. How much are we fueled by our own judgements or perceptions? The movie is remarkable beyond the story.  The actors are perfectly cast in their roles.  I found the use of light throughout the film captivating.

I know I am guilty of making quick judgements that can be hard to overcome.  They may not be of the magnitude portrayed in the movie–but perception is capable of overshadowing reality.