nakedpastor

I am inside the system. I am a part of the machine. I am one of the so-called leaders of this institution. Most of the time I’m not happy about it. I continuously struggle with it and even against it. This is what makes my blog what it is: it is written by a pastor who critiques the very system he’s a willing but reluctant participant in. I sometimes wonder what would become of my blog if I left the ministry as a full-time paid clergy. Would it mean anything anymore? I think one of the unique aspects of nakedpastor is that I’m still within the system. I often wonder how bought I am by the system. How embroiled am I in it? How vested is my interest? I constantly feel like I’m compromising myself. I sometimes feel guilt about selling out to the system. Then, I remember that it isn’t about the system but the people I pastor who are also within it, the friends I work among. Like marriage I guess… I love Lisa, this person in front of me. If that is true, I don’t even have to consider the institution of marriage. It means nothing. I am in but not of. I always have to remind myself of this, and there is beauty in it.

The fine art photograph (cropped) is the creation of my friend Howard Nowlan.

Have a great long weekend. See you soon!

I wrote something yesterday in this post on Higher Learning or Life that I thought I would expand upon a bit today. It is the quote:

There is a transformation that is not planned or manufactured or even wish for, a completely new creation in which truth alone is master and not the efforts of my own mind.

This one sentence reveals my complete exhaustion with knowledge. I have concluded that our intelligence may have made our life easier in many ways, but it has also brought much destruction. We do not love any more than we used to. In fact, we use facts to divide and hate and punish. Our never-ending studies have not brought us any closer to the truth. I know we need to learn facts in order to live from day to day. But amassing fact upon fact in our brains is only impressive but it ultimately changes nothing. We are like a carpenter with tons of tools hanging off his belt. Impressive! But he can’t build the house! I was talking with a pastor recently who said he’s been preaching about grace for years and years, and when he talks with his people, he realizes that they haven’t changed their minds at all! They believe what they’ve always believed and will continue to do so. He’s deciding whether or not he wants to keep doing this for the rest of his life.

Our minds are hard, inflexible, determined and rigid. We take bits of facts and tack them onto our calloused brains like a bunch of sticky-notes. If the fact doesn’t agree with what we already believe, then we neglect it or change it to harmonize. This is human behavior. This is how our brains work. It is a machine intent on self-preservation, and that is its primary impulse. We must see this. This is fundamental!

Can we calm ourselves? Can we truly listen? There is true transformation that comes about by truth itself, and not my analysis of it or my grasping for it. When I listen and the truth is heard, that in itself transforms! And this can be heard anywhere at anytime. Jesus didn’t say, “Consider John 3:16!” He said, “Consider the lilies of the field.” Can we listen? For those who have ears to hear, let them hear!

The fine art photograph is the creation of my friend Jorgen Klausen.

I began my PhD in New Testament Studies over 20 years ago. Through a series of twists, I ended up not pursuing my degree. My direction radically changed from heading towards teaching to pastoral ministry. No regrets. Here’s why:

1. Even though I was accepted into the program, the university started critiquing my transcripts from my previous schools, which to it were too conservative, and was going to require me to do everything all over again, including my 4 years of New Testament Greek. Uh, nope!
2. I realized immediately that the PhD was another loop to jump through and that I was at the merciless mercy of the professorial class, the universities, and the politics of that university’s flavor of Christendom and church. I couldn’t stand the learned arrogance I was bombed with every single hour of every single day.
3. Lisa was pregnant with our first son, and the financial realities hit us like a road-block. I chose the quickest route out of education and into a paycheck. I went from studying scripture, theology, theological French and German, etc., and dove into a job as a chimney-sweep. I’ve never been so dirty nor chimneys so clean!
4. I had a liberating revelation that I didn’t need to “know” any more. The inability of further learning to transform me was clear. I already had more knowledge than I would ever integrate into my life. I sensed that I was simply going to heap further burdens upon myself that I wouldn’t be able nor need to bear. No more facts were required. No more studies were necessary. No more books were essential.
5. Along with this revelation came another more cataclysmic one: the absolute destitution of my heart. My own pride, ambition, hardness and cruelty exposed themselves. I saw at once the fathomless suffering and the beautiful delicacy of life and decided that living was more important than memorizing. There is a transformation that is not planned or manufactured or even wish for, a completely new creation in which truth alone is master and not the efforts of my own mind. This, I decided, is where I would live the rest of my days. Or die trying.

The fine art photograph is the creation of my friend Howard Nowlan.

I usually get up very early in the morning and sit by my window overlooking the river while I have my coffee. I use that time to meditate before I start my first lap of painting early in the day before anyone else gets up. However, I detected movement in my backyard and noticed these two fawns grazing and relaxing there. They are beautiful and graceful creatures. It gave me a sense of peace and serenity. I watched them for a long time. One even lied down to rest for a while as the other one kept grazing.

Sure, there seems to be so much to get riled over. There is lots to concern us and tons to be anxious about. Somehow this all misses the point, doesn’t it? Even my frustrations over the church fade in the light of simple beauty. There is a place of peace. There is a profound simplicity to be found and in which to abide. All the storms and assaults of life continue. But isn’t there a deep place of sanctuary where all the conflicting currents ultimately can’t affect us? Isn’t there a vast geography of profound blessing that is full of benediction and peace? Yes, I believe there is, but we must discover it! And it is at once desert and oasis, both terrible and serene.

GIMME! Ministries stands for Globalized International Missional-Minded Evangelism Ministries.

Yesterday did me in. I tried to teach clearly, but what was coming out of my mouth wasn’t making sense. I felt frustrated and wanted to walk away. It wasn’t that the message was a difficult subject, but that so much is going through my mind right now. I know several pastors who are seriously struggling deeply with the church and as a result their faith. I know even more people who are just walking away from the whole church and Christian enterprise. Sometimes I feel like I’m trying to inflate a balloon with a huge hole in it. Often I feel like we’re still putting on a poor show, a tragedy. Scratch it all and start over. That’s what I think.

I recently received a thoughtful comment from another blogger. I checked out her blog and discovered that she had begun as a devout Christian, but through a series of attempts at running a kind of chat-room for Christians, she decided that she just couldn’t be a part of all that crap and eventually became agnostic and now a kind of universalist. Whatever she is doesn’t matter to me. What matters is how she got there: beaten and wounded by the church and the people in it. I’ve been thinking about the story of the Good Samaritan: in sermons we hear different angles on who represents us in the story. Sometimes we are the different people who pass the wounded man by. Sometimes we represent the inn-keeper who will take care of the wounded man. Sometimes we identify with the wounded man himself. Sometimes we are compared to the Samaritan who actually helps the man. I have an idea: how about we compare ourselves with the people who beat him up and robbed him and left him for dead? I’m seeing it all over the map. Not just strangers, but friends and family of mine. I know more people wounded and damaged by the church than those who have benefited from it. And the people who seem to benefit from it are mostly the brutal beaters.

I think we are in danger. Few seem to notice or care. The righteous are eating us up! LOOK HERE! And because it’s done in the name of Jesus we all say Go ahead, rape me if God so wills! Abuse is rampant and like a seriously dysfunctional family nobody’s willing to say anything. I got some heat over saying that we are all on the same sinking ship. I still say so. All have gone astray. All have been imprisoned in disobedience! The least we can do is admit it and have mercy on our way down together.

The fine art photograph is the creation of my friend Howard Nowlan.

I want to take this opportunity to thank Paul Walker over at Out of the Cocoon for a very generous REVIEW OF MY CHAPTER, “Virtuality and the Practice of Authenticity” in the Wikiklesia project Voices of the Virtual World. Walker has taken on the incredible task of reviewing all 40-something chapters on his blog. You can see the book ad on my sidebar to the right where you can also download it. Paperback available soon!