"You're Just Bitter!"

How many times have christians used those words to shut down conversation?

To avoid genuine and meaningful interaction with a fellow believer?

To dismiss and deny valid grievances and justifiable anger?

How many christians have thrown those words into the face of their brother or sister in an attempt to keep themselves safe from having to evaluate their own behaviour - using accusations of bitterness as a talisman to ward off the pain of honest self-reflection.

Most times it's not even true - it's just an accusation to hide behind - a way to avoid engaging with some hard truth.

So what motivates men and women who claim to follow Jesus to protect themselves at all costs from owning their part in a conflict? Why would they rather attack and damn others than look in the mirror and take stock of what it reflects?

It certainly comes across as unbridled arrogance, but is there more to the story? Is there also a desperate fear that haunts those who employ such tactics?

If we could see behind the religious hubris, beneath the insolent self-righteousness, would we discover a frightened child, cowering as if from a blow, frantically lashing out at anyone who threatens to uncover their true state?

Or would it look more like the Wizard of Oz, fearfully fabricating his grand illusion of power and authority, whilst behind the curtain stands a man emotionally paralysed by the miserable awareness of his own inadequacy.

Hiding behind the illusion.

I actually don't know. Only God can see the heart. But I do know how it feels to be dismissed with such callous disregard. Like so many others, I have experienced the injustice of having my legitimate grievances expunged with the magic words, "You're just bitter."

When it happened at my ex-church I was devastated by it. I remember the pain and betrayal of trust. But since then I've done the hard yards, and I've learned to thrive in the liminal spaces I was pushed into. (Hence the title of my blog!)

And I've discovered that these days those words leave me feeling genuine pity. Because it seems to me that the person who needs to resort to protecting themselves in this way - shutting down conversation in order avoid even contemplating their own culpability - is not someone who knows the joy and freedom of life in Christ. And that is truly sad.

So do yourself a favour and stop using this dismissive accusation. Really, just stop! You are most likely hurting others by it, and you are quite definitely harming yourself. And who knows, you just might learn that to live with honesty - naked and unashamed - is actually the most liberating experience you'll ever have!

Are Celebrity Christians Above 'The Law'?

In the 2000 movie, The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle, the two cartoon characters are arrested and brought before 'Judge Cameo' who, as soon as she recognises them, dismisses the case against them stating that "celebrities are above the law".

Now, in the context of the film, it was funny - even while it took a clever jab at the attitude that condones and excuses the bad behaviour of the rich and famous. No matter what they've been accused of, no matter how they've behaved, they are not to be held to the same standards as the 'common' man - simply because they are famous!

But in real life, that attitude is far from funny.

And when the 'celebrity' involved is the head of a mega-church, there's nothing at all to amuse us.

Yet, sadly, Hillsong's 'Fearless Leader' Brian Houston recently provided another example of this very attitude.

After implying that he had decided to cancel his planned interview with Mark Driscoll at this year's Hillsong Conference, it then became apparent that he had merely been playing semantics to avoid a legitimate protest of his actions. The interview went ahead - it was just pre-recorded rather than live - and it was screened on Day One of the Sydney conference!

Brian Houston's words and actions were, at best, disingenuous, and some people might say that they were deliberately deceptive - that Brian Houston lied to silence the protest and to avoid any accountability for his actions.

People have been protesting Mark Driscoll being given such a high-profile platform (by a 'celebrity' leader) when there are still so many unresolved issues, so many unanswered questions and so many unreconciled relationships left in the wake of Mark's own celebrity leadership. Some people suggested that it would have been more appropriate to be interviewing some of the 'bodies' Mark Driscoll had thrown under the Mars Hill bus rather than being seen to lend legitimacy to a leader who had caused so much pain and heartache to his brothers and sisters.

But regardless of whether we think the interview should or should not have happened, there is one significant question to be asked, "What sort of message did Brian Houston's actions send?"

I don't know what he was thinking or what motivated him to take the action he did, but I do know what message I received from his behaviour. That somehow, this man thinks he is above the standards of honesty and integrity of an 'ordinary' follower of Jesus. That he feels entitled to be arrogant and dismissive of his brothers' and sisters' pain because he is a leader, a 'somebody', a person of greater prestige and importance than those lesser mortals.

That is exactly the same sort of attitude that many experienced first-hand in their interactions with the subject of the interview, Mark Driscoll.

And the tragedy is not only that this attitude seems to be rampant within so much of the leadership of the institutional church, but that those who follow these 'celebrities' see nothing at all wrong with it. Scores of people commented on social media, blindly supporting the leaders of both Hillsong and Mars Hill. "Don't question our leaders!" was the constant cry. "We idolise these men and they can do no wrong," was the implication. It sounds horribly reminiscent of the Israelites' foolish demand for a king!

And yet, according to Jesus, celebrity has no place in the Kingdom. Those who would be 'great' are called to be the servant of all, and the lives of those who would 'lead' must be above reproach.

Does that sound like the celebrity culture we have created and called 'church'?

Rejected, but Free! (what price acceptance?)

www.pagecovers.com

As anyone who's visited my Facebook Page could tell you, I read a lot of blogs. That's who I am. I read, I ponder, I process. A lot. It's how I'm made. (Apparently, some people believe "thinking too much" is a sin - but that's another story...)

Anyway I recently came across a post by Andy Gill entitled Escaping Evangelicalism. But it was the subtitle that caught my eye, "The Process of Healing from Spiritual and Theological Abuse".

In it, he talks about his struggle to fit in:

"I tried really hard to pretend and warp into who everyone wanted me to be. But it was a double-edged sword deciding between the choice of being accepted as someone I’m not or the choice of being rejected for who I actually am."

He adds:

"The church is where I heard about freedom and grace, but not where I experienced freedom and grace because I never felt safe enough to truly be myself."

He concludes:

"In the last 5-years I’ve learned that there is no pastoral position, no Christian-career, no single person worth losing your autonomy over. It’s an amazing thing to learn that who you are is enough. It’s even more amazing to see how much you can accomplish by just being yourself."

And it reminded me of my last encounter with "J" and his wife. Sure, it had shaken me up for a time, but the truth of Mr Gill's conclusion is my truth too.

There's nothing worth selling your soul for!

If the price of acceptance is living a lie, then I'll take the rejection - I've seen what living a lie costs!

In October 2013, board member D wrote the following words to me:

"All of the leadership have left this difficult situation behind a year ago. We have moved on, we have and are walking in victory, we have forgiven you for your cruel words, accusations, and your gossiping to others."

But it's just not the truth. The look on the face of J's wife was neither one of forgiveness nor victory. It was a look of vitriol, of bitter hatred towards me.

I think D wrote it because it's what he needed to believe, but I also think it's because that was the lie that had been fed to him.

I've seen this couple say and do the 'right thing' in front of people who 'matter', even when this contradicted things spoken to others. I've seen them pretend and cover up (like this) to protect their image.

And I just can't begin to imagine the horror of living with such feelings and not being allowed to own them! I couldn't live with the knowledge of my true feelings having to be imprisoned within me because I'd bought my acceptance at the price of honesty.

The saddest part is that it didn't have to be this way.

It doesn't have to be this way.

It makes me weep for the thousands of others in 'the church' right now who are caught in this trap of their own making. People who bought the sweet-sounding offer of "Just As I Am" only to find it quickly turned into "I Want to be Clone".

Brothers, sisters, I pray you find a way to break out of your prison - that you escape the unending requirement of having to act out your part in a meaningless charade.

My heart breaks for the people who found the price was just too high and have chosen to walk away (or were driven away). How many of them now find themselves shunned by former friends and family? How many are out there, staring down the long road of healing from spiritual abuse?

Precious people, I pray that the joy of your freedom grows ever stronger, and the pain of your rejection dulls and fades. I pray you find peace with the One who knows what it is to be despised and rejected... and free!

How Do We Measure Goodness?

After a recent hard season of sadness and loss (including the death of my mother), my husband and I were thrilled to have the opportunity of a week away together. No children, no responsibilities. We could please ourselves with what we did, and when.

And so we slept in, ate delicious food, drank lots of wine, and stayed up late watching movies. And we remembered that life is good. And we were grateful.

And we talked about life as it has been in the past, and life as we believe it could be. Life as maybe it was created to be.

And I have come back with a renewed desire to live well in the small things, the mundane, the everyday. To live in such a way that others feel blessed, and loved, and valued.

While we were away, one of the films we watched (and which captured my attention) was "Chocolat", which tells the stories of the people of a small French village in 1959. The mayor, Comte de Reynaud, is a man of strict morals and unyielding religion. He is aghast when Vianne Rocher, a single mother, arrives and sets up a chocolatier in the town. During the season of Lent no less!

The tragedy is that the Comte's religion only inspires him to demand that the villagers accede to his harsh moral absolutes - he seems to care nothing about their lives beyond their outward conformity to this code. And he uses the Catholic priest, Pere Henri, as a mouthpiece for his own bitter, religious dogma. No love, no joy, just self-denial and joyless work. Yet you sense he yearns for something more.

And it is the one he condemns as a sinful temptress who shows genuine care and compassion to those around her. She reaches out to them, invites them in, shares her joie de vivre.

Now I know that many people would point out that she was sinful, immoral, pagan even - but the fruit of her engagement with others was sweet.

Others would say it was all just horribly cliched and that everyone knows that "Hollywood" (a catch-all name meaning anyone who makes films and is not a christian) is always portraying christians in a negative light.

But I'm not so sure.

It didn't feel cliched to me - it felt all too familiar.

And I would like to ask a question. Is it possible that the negative, "Hollywood" portrayal of christians is the result of genuine observation? Can it be that this is what has been seen and experienced?

Toward the end of the film Pere Henri is finally allowed to speak from his heart.

"I'm not sure what the theme of my homily today ought to be. Do I want to speak of the miracle of Our Lord's divine transformation? Not really, no. I don't want to talk about His divinity. I'd rather talk about His humanity. I mean, you know, how He lived His life, here on Earth. His kindness, His tolerance... Listen, here's what I think. I think that we can't go around... measuring our goodness by what we don't do. By what we deny ourselves, what we resist, and who we exclude. I think... we've got to measure goodness by what we embrace, what we create... and who we include." 

Beautiful words, I thought.

And maybe worth considering...

Jesus the Buddhist?

Jesus the Buddhist?

At one point in the hostilities we experienced at our last church, my husband and I agreed to a meeting with the elder who was at the centre of the leadership struggle, and with his wife, both of whom had been close friends of ours. We were still hoping that somehow we could find some sort of resolution to the conflict. We had asked one of the board members* to mediate for us, because our previous attempt at reconciliation had only exposed me to more abuse.

(* We didn't realise until later how partisan he actually was!)

Some way into the discussions, elder J's wife got angry and started articulating how she really felt towards me. I can only guess this caught her off guard because she suddenly clapped her hand over her mouth as if to dam the words, giggled, and then said, "Oh, look at me, I'm manifesting!"

Her smile was then firmly clamped back into place and she resumed saying 'the right things'.

Needless to say, the meeting finished with us all saying the magic words, and then love and peace abounded. NOT!

Nothing was ever owned or dealt with, and therefore nothing was resolved. We all pretended that everything was suddenly ok and made like the nice, little christians we were supposed to be. Om….

Why are christians so afraid of being honest!?

In this case, the couple needed to prove to the board member what 'good' (calm, loving, in control) christians they were - proving their claim to leadership, I surmise. In other words, they had something to lose by being honest.

All I managed to achieve from that meeting was prove in their minds what a 'bad' (angry, hurt, emotional) christian I was! In their world, my honesty made me a loser.

And at first I bought into this lie. Deny your feelings. Stay calm. Be nice. Say forgiveness.

Recite the mantra. Emotions are wrong, feelings are bad. Repeat the chant enough times and those things will just disappear. Believe, and your pain no longer exists. Then you'll have achieved christian enlightenment.

This is the lie I was sold. Except I wasn't really buying it. Something just didn't add up.

And eventually I realised the truth. I hadn't lost at all. I'd actually gained. My freedom and my integrity!

I had gained permission to be myself. I no longer needed to perform or pretend. To be measured by someone else's yardstick.

It is God's work to conform me to the image of his son. Not mine. Definitely not someone else's.

And I certainly won't make myself fit an image of Jesus that doesn't exist.

I don't buy the nice, calm, unemotional facade that some christians think they are supposed to present. Always peaceful, always serene. It makes me wonder if they believe Jesus was actually some kind of Zen Buddhist!

Is that the real Jesus? Or is that some kind of comfortable image we've been sold?

Nice Jesus.

Safe Jesus.

Gentle Jesus, meek and mild.

The Jesus some christians seem to follow would have made the money-changers a nice cup of tea and sat down to have a friendly chat with them, suggesting that perhaps they might like to reflect on their behaviour and possibly think about how they could maybe do things differently… but only if they felt like it.

Peace man! Chill!

Well the Jesus I see is thoroughly alive. Embraces life in all its messiness and complexity. Is the ultimate example of what it is to be fully human. Passionate, emotional, sometimes even overwhelmed by his feelings, his struggles. Real. Honest. Authentic.

That's the Jesus I want to look like.

Acquainted with grief… and other emotions!

Go and Learn What This Means: I Desire Honesty, Not Christianity

By Zach Hoag

I am a Christian.

I love Christians.

I have great hope for the Christian church.

But throughout my journey one thing has repeatedly frustrated me. And that is the tendency among Christians to value the identity marker of “Christian” over basic truth and honesty.

Oh sure, we’ve got the “truth.” But that truth revolves around theological realities about how one secures salvation or lives the Christian life that must be defended and upheld no matter what, along with the institutions that contain those same realities. In other words, the politics of protecting theological truth turn that truth into a set of ideological markers, showing us who is in and who is out. Who is totally Christian and who is definitely not.

What matters most is to be found in, to not cross the ideological line. What matters most is to fight those who tamper with the ideology. What matters most is the survival of the “truth” in the midst of political forces that might seek to destroy it.

And in the process of the superficial politicking, the actual truth is nowhere to be found.

I think this is why Jesus said, “Go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’” It’s because theological truth is prone to missing the forest for the trees. It’s prone to protecting ideas – institutionalized as rituals – instead of people. It’s prone to the majestic maneuverings of language that seem to prove the point sublimely while missing the point entirely. It’s prone to decrying “positions” in favor of its pure and abstract idea – which is, of course, a position.

Often, a position that harms people.

I’ve come to believe that God desires honesty, not Christianity. Continue reading...