The man

Lee Wellington D'Arcy,
born June 30, 1919

Farmer

Single dad

Loyal friend

Preacher boy

Faithful husband

Patient father
Good steward
School board chairman
Stockyard worker
Builder of Marlette Homes
Loving grandpa
Real estate agent

Wordsmith and prolific writer of letters

Sunday School Superintendent for decades - who did everything in his power to make people feel loved and welcome

Gentle

Humble

Cautious

Deliberate

Intentional

Resourceful

He had big feet - size 13.

He could sleep almost anywhere.

Sang bass in more than one quartet

Played the guitar

Loved the music of George Beverly Shea, Tennessee Ernie Ford, Johnny Cash, Laurence Welk, Buck Owens and Roy Clark…

The centennial

Celebrating the centennial of my dad’s birth

He’s been gone 23 years but I really wanted to do something special this year to celebrate.

A hundred years is a big deal

Significant

Worth celebrating

Lots of fanfare

How do you celebrate a centennial?

A parade comes to mind

A huge event - with hundreds of people in attendance
Lots of hoopla

I didn’t know how to make any of that happen 
... so I would write a book about him.

A biography

A best-seller

Well, maybe not…

But loads of people loved my dad and some of them MIGHT want to read it.
... and maybe even buy their own copy.  
Or not.

I worked on it for a long time.

But it didn't turn out quite the way I hoped.

Yep, I tend to get big ideas.

My imagination can go a little crazy with wild ideas.
I’m not always so good at bringing them to life.

So I kept reminding myself to be practical.

And I WAS diligent about working on the various steps.

I kept plodding

Doing what I could

Gathering notes and ideas

Sorting through hundreds of photos

And I DID produce a book.

Just not the book that I hoped for.

I was planning a book with hundreds of pages and a few photos here and there.

I ended up with a photo book with a few lines of text here and there.

I did proclaim a centennial month.

And I did produce my own little parade - of photos - on my Facebook page.

But it didn’t feel like enough.

It was underwhelming.

No fanfare, no hoopla.

No parade

No huge event

A chintzy celebration for a great life.

I was tempted to be a teeny bit sad.

So then I asked myself what a centennial is for anyway.

Who is it for?

I’m not sure.

I just know that I wanted to honor this man.

So I tried…

I tried to do more than I could.

And then I did what I knew to do.

What I had the energy and resources to accomplish.

He would not ask more of me.

He might have commented on my tendency to attempt too much.

Again.

He might have asked me what I am learning from this.

Again.

…

He also attempted great things.

But he knew enough to take small steps.

That’s how he accomplished the great things he did.

Little by little.

One thing at a time.

And that’s what I ended up doing.

I was willing to tweak my goals to make them more practical.

I need not be disappointed in myself.

I succeeded in doing what I could to honor my dad.

He would be proud of me and I can be proud of myself.

Besides he wouldn't have wanted a lot of hoopla.

No need to pray

She asked for prayer because her roof was leaking.

She didn’t have the $700 to repair it.

Church leader promises to put it on the prayer list.

Young man stands to say: 

I don’t think we need to pray about that.

I think we can put that much together right now in this room.

And we did.

Sunday morning musings

I wonder whether there will be pro-life teaching from the pulpits of America today.

I wonder if there will be reference to Good News.

I wonder if there will be messages of peace on earth and good will toward all men.

I wonder whether there will be any preaching about loving our neighbors as ourselves. Or will there be talk about protecting ourselves against them?

I wonder if there will be discussion about the words of Jesus when he said to turn the other cheek. Specifically in Missionary Churches where I grew up, I wonder whether there is still any consideration for our Mennonite roots.  For a call to non-violence.

I wonder if anyone will ask what Jesus would do.

I wonder.

Two lives, two stories

Life A was my life as an insider.
A life of always striving...
To do right and to be right.
Of needing to impress.
A life of rules.
A life of effort.
A life of diligence and discipline.
A life of restriction.

...

Life B is my life outside the walls.
A life where it's okay to ask questions.
Where it is safe to express doubt.
Or wonderings.
A life where I don't have to always be right - nor have all the answers.
A life where people make mistakes and aren't afraid to admit them - even the leaders.
A life of grace.
A life of adventure.
A life of trust.
A life of freedom.

...

I never want to go back to Life A.
Unfortunately I catch myself once in awhile...
Still clinging to that life.
Still fearing condemnation.
Still following the rules.
Still needing to be right.
Still wanting to impress.
Still pretending to have all the answers.


Fortunately that happens only rarely.
Most of the time I am thrilled to be breathing the air of freedom.
Most of the time I can't imagine going back inside.

Missing church - or not

             "Do you miss church?"

That's what she asked me - and then must have remembered all the things I had said about being so grateful to be free...

So she rephrased the question:  I mean, like... Do you miss worship?

That's when I knew that she was a church-goer. An insider. ... Because an outsider or casual attender would probably not use the term "worship" - which is the insider label for the music at the beginning of a church service.

Do I miss church?

What a strange question.

No, I don't mean that it is a strange question to ask, but I mean that it feels strange to try to answer it. After being an insider myself for SIX DECADES, I never would have imagined being on the outside. If someone had asked me that question then, whether I would miss church if I didn't attend... Well, of course, I would. I mean, it was my life! My social network, my ministry, my job - for Pete's sake! I would not have been able to imagine life without church.

But now, six years out... Now it's hard to think of something I miss.

Do I miss the music?

Let's see; sometimes I miss playing in the band. Sometimes. But not often. But the music in general? Nope. In fact, and this will sound really harsh to some, but I can barely stand to listen to some Christian music now. This is not the time or place to go into detail, but let's just say it reminds me of some of the very things with which I can no longer agree.

Do I miss the mentoring opportunities?

Not really, because I still have them. More than ever. More opportunities than I can find the time to keep up with. Turns out you don't have to be inside a church to love people and walk together with Jesus.  Imagine that.

Do I miss the social structure?
Fellowship events?

If you mean church potlucks, well, then, nope, I do not.

If you mean relationships, well, not really - because relationships do not depend on social events. Sure, there is the ease of staying connected, but it does not guarantee real relationship. And yes, we have to work harder at relationships when we are not automatically and regularly bumping into each other in that context. But I seem to remember hearing that the best things in life are worth working for.

Do I miss the sermons?

Actually, I have only just begun going through my piles and piles of notebooks that are full of sermon notes that I have not yet put into practice. I realized long ago that our sermon system was not a terribly effective way of fostering spiritual growth.

On that note, there IS something I miss. I miss the times of discussion after a sermon where we plopped down on the front pews and hammered out what it all really meant and how to apply it to our lives that week. You know; that handful of times when a bunch of us hung out for hours and really talked. And we said we should do it more often. Now that I think about it, I guess I've been in more of those discussions in these past six years outside than in the sixty on the inside. So, nope, I don't have to miss that.

...

Oh, I know something else I don't miss. I don't miss being interrogated about why we didn't attend a certain event - especially when we were actively involved in a half-dozen other "services" or church meetings that very same week. Nor do I miss being "scolded" for not measuring up to someone's expectations.

...

So do I miss church?

If you mean dressing up in my Sunday best to attend worship service at the sacred hour of 11 a.m., I have to say I don't miss it.

But if you mean gathering with believers to talk about what Jesus said and how we can live it out... I guess I 'd have to say that I don't miss that either - BECAUSE we can still do that. And we do.

AND we can meet with all brands of other "outsiders" and can have deep discussion about what we do and don't know to be true about God. Where we can reason together about faith and science and grace and all kinds of issues. The type of discussions that would never happen inside the four walls.

When is church?

 

 

"A joyful noise we will make."

Kids rocking out to that sentiment as they sing it.

Those kids have some moves!

...

Sitting around the campfire enjoying a yummy multi-course Sunday morning brunch. Sipping a second (or maybe third) cup of cappuccino to ward off the chilly wind moving through the trees. Good conversation. Fun music. And yes, kids dancing and making joyful sounds. A duet of strong beautiful voices blending on an old hymn. Lyrics prompted on iPhones via Google - rather than hymnals or PowerPoint. Stimulating discussion about faith and orthodoxy. Freedom to ask questions as well as freedom to not have to have all the answers. Freedom to get up and find another cup of coffee. Love shared and love received.

Now THAT is church.

It was not lost on me that this was indeed Sunday morning. In fact, it was even somewhere around 11 a.m. on Sunday morning - the magical hour for "real" church according to some Christians. The time to be in church if one is to be certain and secure about one's spiritual condition.

I sat there remembering friends who have made it known to me that they were concerned about us because our house church met on Tuesday night instead of Sunday morning. There was a certainty implied that Sunday morning is THE time to be in church or else. I'm not exactly sure what the "or-else" is but certainly the idea that something is lacking in my spiritual growth and maybe something to be feared for my eternal salvation.

If those friends could see me now... You know? I sort of wish they could - so they wouldn't have to worry about my spiritual condition. See. I got the time right this week. Church on Sunday morning rather than Tuesday night. Maybe they wouldn't worry about me now. At least maybe not this week.

Well, except for the location...

Can it be "real" church if it happens out in the great outdoors? Under towering trees and ever-changing clouds...

 

...

 

A joyful noise we will make.

On Sunday morning.

On Tuesday evening.

Whenever.

Wherever.

 

 

Sunday sermon - always welcome, no matter what

Even delicate subjects could be introduced and discussed in this home. No heated discussions. An environment was cultivated in the home that assured openness and honesty.

The father waits for God to do what he cannot do. Dad was the magnet.

You're always welcome at home.

No matter what your condition.

No matter what others think of you.

The father became a model of authentic Christianity.
...

I came across these lines from a sermon preached by Mark Bolender at Brown City camp many many years ago - about the welcoming father in Luke 15.

What a contrast to some of the stories I've heard recently of Christian parents who make unrealistic demands on their kids and refuse to welcome them.

These modern day stories remind me more of the older brother - about whom Mark Bolender said this: The older brother lives by the clipboard. He was keeping a record. Older brothers are always around, keeping track of you. They are harder to please than the father, because they don't understand grace.
Ouch! I have been that older brother. Clipboard living is my natural tendency and it breaks my heart to recognize it in myself.

But I also know how it feels to be judged by the older brother. To try to please those who live by the clipboard. Those who keep records. Those who express their displeasure at attitudes, actions, beliefs or routines different from their own. Those who resent the father's love for the wanderer.
...

These lines are the few I chose to save from pages and pages of sermon notes in that one particular notebook. And there are yet more and more boxes of notebooks filled with sermon notes and all kinds of stuff from my years as a religious insider. Those piles of boxes seem somehow symbolic of all the things I was taught during those decades - and the things I taught to others. They were the foundation of my weltanschauung - my worldview.

Since being catapulted from that world of organized religion, and since beginning to understand what it feels like to be an outsider, I have a new perspective. A very different viewpoint.

It is important to note that as I have been processing all that I was taught to believe, I have tried to be careful not to throw out the baby with the bath water. That is an interesting process, by the way, because it requires first figuring out which is the baby - that which is precious, that which really matters and should be cherished. Identifying which is the really important makes it easier to let go of the rest - because it is simply dirty water.

So yes, it is interesting to be sorting through the bins and boxes from a lifetime lived in the same house while simultaneously sorting through the layers and layers of truths and Truth that I have willingly consumed over a lifetime of being a good kid. A rule-keeper. A pleaser who feared God and tried to please everybody. A fixer. An older brother - or an older sister anyway - who wanted to set a good example for others, but who also tended to impose my expectations on them. Someone who often struggled to sort through all the good trying to discern what is best.
...

This story in Luke 15 has always amazed me. I am attracted by the love shown by the father. I am saddened by the attitude of the older brother - whether seen in myself or in others around me.

Living by the clipboard is NOT the model of authentic Christianity. I don't want to live like that anymore. And you know what? I don't have to. We don't have to. We can choose to be critical clipboard-carrying older brothers. Or we can choose to be welcoming and loving. And that is one of the things that really matter.

God help us make the right choice. People's lives depend on it.

Why Rock the Boat - guest post

Why do you encourage missional thinking? Why do you bring in innovative thinkers with their radical and transformational ideas? Why do you invest so much time and energy getting pastors fired up to lead their churches into organic, refreshing, authentic ways of doing ministry? Why do you push these amazing, wonderful, life-changing concepts and encourage pastors to implement them? Why do you convince people that disciple-making is not a program, but that it is a radical way of thinking and living, a fresh but ancient wave of spiritual reproduction? Why do you challenge church leaders to dismantle their fortress mentality and to learn instead what it means to unleash the church - to BE the church outside the institutional walls?
...

(Read the rest of this post here.)

...

I wonder about so many things. Once in awhile I wish I could ask church leaders questions that I wonder about, but then I fear that nothing good would come of it. But if I could, if I thought it would matter, these are a few of the things I might ask.

I am excited to be invited to guest post on another blog, An Elbow in the Ribs. I thank my husband for encouraging me to keep wondering about things and to keep asking questions.

Missing the old days - Part Two

See Missing the old days - Part One here.
...

Once in awhile I miss the old days.  But not really...

...

I don't know that I have ever watched "Dancing with the Stars" and I don't know that I ever will. I have however seen a few episodes of other performance shows as well as the Olympics from time to time - enough to know there are two distinct sides to this brand of entertainment. There is the amazing talent, the emotion of the music, the personality of the performer, the beauty of the dance and the grace of the skaters - those are the wonders to behold and to celebrate.

Then there is the judging.   Oh, my, the judging - whether by the judges or the voting public.  The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. But also the harshness, the picky critiques, the heart-breaking put-downs. I suppose there is a place for performance judging in our world, but some of our worlds contain far too much judgment and pettiness and far too little celebration and grace.

...

Some of the oft-repeated rules in my old world were demanding and difficult.   

• If you are sick, you must not have enough faith. Maybe you're not praying enough. Maybe you should throw away your pills.
• You have to submit and be more surrendered.
• Try harder and believe more strongly.
• You must be willing to pay the price.
• We must live in victory - all the time.
• Perhaps you are being punished for not having consistent daily devotions.
• When God says "Jump" it is not your place to argue or to wonder why. It is simply yours to ask "How high?" (Yes, yes, that one was probably for my protection more than about my performance, but it didn't always sound that way.)

...

But in my new world, rather than a harsh raspy-voiced coach bellowing out orders to try harder, to jump higher, to throw farther, now I discover a loving father and I hear the new rules from his gentle voice. 

• Dance with me. Don't worry about stepping on my feet. In fact, some of the time, you can just stand on them and let me do the work - just like when you were little...
• It's not like DWTS. You will not be critiqued by judges. America will not vote on your performance.
• In fact, don't even think about an audience - because they don't matter. That's right; dance like no one is watching.
• Don't fret about how to keep the steps in order. Just relax and follow my lead. Lean in and feel the graceful rhythm.
• Let the music sink into your spirit and feel the breeze on your face.
• Enjoy the dance.
• Celebrate. 

...

I miss the old days like I miss having two left feet!  Being klutzy is no fun. Neither is always missing the mark.  Feeling like a failure gets really old.

Good-bye, Judgment.  Hello, Grace!

Rob Bell and a new American Christianity - a book review

I have previously read several books by Rob Bell and have now read a book about him by James K. Wellman, Jr. - entitled rob Bell and a new American Christianity.  Before being asked to write about Bell, Wellman had little knowledge of him, but has done a commendable job researching and pulling together an overview of Bell's life and ministry, but particularly of his spiritual journey.  However, this book chronicles not only Rob Bell's story, but also at least one slice of history of American Christendom.

Wellman tackles several of the labels that others have attempted to hang on Bell (i.e. subversive, celebrity, radical, heretic) and investigates each one - and in fact, wrote entire chapters around some of them.  The result of his work strikes me as a fair and helpful summary of Rob Bell's theology and his ministry methods.  I appreciate the balance between questions like "Did Bell go too far?" (p. 94) and "Did Bell go far enough?" (p. 109)

Through the years I have watched the nooma videos, I have read Bell's books, I have visited Mars Hill, I have stood in a little huddle with him as he prayed for my daughter and son-in-law who were heading off to India.  Yes, I have generally appreciated Rob Bell's teaching all the while realizing that he is just a man, an imperfect person - so I don't automatically believe or agree with everything he says.

This biography provided me with a time line of Bell's journey that in several ways has paralleled my own.  As I continue to wrestle with my own study of theology, it was helpful to read again Bell's interpretation of the story of salvation.  He asks the question, "Does it begin with the fall?" and points out that our focus will be different depending on whether we start in the first or the third chapter of Genesis. 

I appreciate Bell's lofty view of God and I tend to agree with his assessment that "the God we construct is always too small."  Bell believes the gospel "is always and forever revealing itself in actions of charity whether inside or outside the church" but that it "can be distorted by dogma and obscured by those who seek to own it."  (p. 154)

I have learned some things from Rob Bell.  For example, I have been inspired to study carefully and to think responsibly.  His illumination of the Jewish culture in Jesus' time has encouraged me to dig into what a passage really meant within the original context.  I have also been challenged to believe the best about God but especially to go beyond belief and take action, to participate in the life of Jesus - in the word becoming flesh.  Since reading this book, I have been reminded of those lessons - and my sense of mission has been stirred and renewed.

So do I recommend the book?  To those who have been warned to stay away from Rob Bell and who are fearful of "contamination" I will not try to convince you to read it.  But if you might enjoy an outside perspective of Bell's theological journey, then yes, I would recommend it as a good read.

Church Matters

Yes, church matters.

If the church is the "body" of Jesus, then it matters greatly.  The church can and should be a powerful force for good when it is in the business of love and grace and healing and forgiveness and delivering Good News.  However, at times throughout history the church has also been a powerful force for harm - and this ought not to be. This unbelievably sad reality damages and destroys people as well as the reputation of the church.

"Church matters" can also refer to the business of the Kingdom that so many of us have been caught up in.  These church matters can drain our energy and dominate our time and our thinking - especially if we are in a leadership role, but even if we are "just" lay people.  While it can be argued that any organization will need some kind of organizational structure, it is wise to remember that we are not called to bow down to the structure nor to people in positions of power.

During the decades that I invested my time and energy in church matters, I learned a lot about what matters to many in the church world.  I have sat through discussions about the four P's that church leaders need to discuss: purpose, people, program, property.  Some of the discussions were lively and fun while others were neither lively nor fun - discussions about how those four things should line up and about how they really land in each of our churches.  Then there are the rules to live by - the things by which we judge spiritual growth or personal holiness.  What a crazy long list that one is!

I do not blame any person(s) for the setting of external standards; indeed, I dared to "instruct" on the "standards of life and conduct" and to encourage steps of spiritual growth. What I mean to say here is that I have finally realized that many of those church matters are not what really matters.

Are there steps that lead to spiritual growth?  Quite probably, just like there are steps to other kinds of growth.  Will there be evidence of maturity in the lives of believers?  I certainly hope so. What I object to is the practice of measuring "spirituality" or "holiness" or even worth and value by outward appearance - things like church attendance, tithing, philosophy of ministry, preferred style of music, volunteerism, time management, Bible reading or memorization, diet, habits, political affiliation, or other external behavior.

...

Quite possibly the preceding paragraphs provide more detail about church matters than most of my readers would ever want to know.  Indeed.  But yes, church matters seem to really matter to church people.  My whole point is that we are missing the point if we obsess about these things. 

...

So what really does matter?

At this point, I can only answer for myself as part of the body of Christ.  To do that, I try to focus on Jesus, on His life and teachings as my example.  I know that love and grace are probably the things that matter most - as well as forgiveness and generosity and healing.

In fact, I just might come up with my own list of what I believe the church should be about: reconciliation, redemption, and restoration.

I believe these are things that really matter.

Windows

The big house had lots of windows. The family room had one entire wall of ten windows and the dining room also had ten windows – spread around three sides of the room. Each of the bedrooms had at least 2 windows. In the big house, we could gaze out at the world around us while staying comfortable and insulated from the weather. In fact, I have whole photo albums – like “my windows on winter” – recording the outside beauty from inside vantage points. However, this new place has only three windows – meaning that I can’t see what’s happening out there from inside. I must step outside to enjoy or to assess the surroundings. I must make myself vulnerable and get out there. Yikes. 

It rather reminds me of my former existence within the institutional church. I was happily occupied with all kinds of ministries. I could observe the world around me while staying safe and comfortable – insulated from the conditions out there. I even hosted an annual event that I called "window on the world."

However, now that I am outside the walls, I feel vulnerable and more than a bit uncomfortable. But I also realize that “out here” is where I need to be if I want to engage the culture and really live the love of Jesus. My perspective was in dire need of correction – which could have only happened outside. I must now learn how to live and love out here in the real world.

Freedom, movement, transition

After living in comfort and convenience and security for pretty much all of my life, we are starting out on an adventure unlike any other – that may seem silly & irresponsible. But it is a step of freedom, a step to freedom. And it is not just about where we live or don’t live and what we own and enjoy. It is also about what we believe and what we value. Our “before” life was full of stuff and all kinds of space to contain the stuff. Our new life has very little space to keep things, so we are throwing stuff overboard as quickly as we can pry our fingers open. If we are to travel, we can’t carry all this baggage. My perspective has changed about which things really matter to me. I realize that some of them are cherished for good reason while others now seem less important and even downright silly in the light of the journey.

So too in my soul and spirit – I have been in transition – a transition consisting of sorting and pitching the beliefs that I have clung to all my life. I have been taking a long hard look at all the bags and boxes of beliefs that had long bogged me down. The process of disentangling the piles of legalistic rules and expectations has been arduous, but I have recently realized that I am feeling free – in a pared-down sense, clean & lean, lighter and re-energized. I am discovering which things really matter and should be cherished. I also now recognize how unimportant other things are – downright silly even.

Yes, it feels weird to no longer be confined – and defined – by the walls that kept me safe and provided comfort and predictability as well as lots of space to store my stuff. Yes, it is scary to be outside those walls and facing the vast unknown – and with relatively few creature comforts. But it is an adventure – one which I’m glad to finally be free to embark.

losing my religion, finding my faith

This has been yet another year of transition. I don't suppose that I would have guessed that I would still be changing and transitioning at this stage of life. The last few years have involved our transition out of organized religion and into the post-evangelical wilderness - out of the Empire and hopefully into a clearer understanding of the kingdom of Jesus.

I've been sorting through pretty much everything that I ever believed. I found rules that are good, but not necessarily biblical and I've discovered that some things I learned in church actually stand in opposition to the Gospel of Jesus. My own personal list of rules to live by has taken quite a beating - as I finally realized that it encouraged me to be legalistic and self-righteous.

When I first noticed myself discarding so many of the old laws and beliefs, I wanted to be careful not to throw the baby out with the bath water. More recently I've been noticing other things as well. As I look back over this year, I guess I could say that I've been gradually losing my religion and finding my faith. One day maybe I'll explain more of what I mean by that.

praise You in this storm

Thanks, Casting Crowns for these great lyrics...

"Praise You In This Storm"

I was sure by now
God You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away
Stepped in and saved the day
But once again, I say "Amen", and it's still raining

As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain
"I'm with you"
And as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away

[Chorus:]
And I'll praise You in this storm
And I will lift my hands
For You are who You are
No matter where I am
And every tear I've cried
You hold in Your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm

I remember when
I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry to you
And you raised me up again
My strength is almost gone
How can I carry on
If I can't find You

But as the thunder rolls
I barely hear You whisper through the rain
"I'm with you"
And as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away

[Chorus]

I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The Maker of Heaven and Earth

[Chorus x2]

The bride

Best-selling author Anne Rice has renounced Christianity, but not Christ. Reactions to that news are varied: empathy, identification, sadness, judgment, scoffing, disagreement, admonition, anger, admiration, respect… My first reflex was to completely understand her frustration and to agree with some of her conclusions as stated on her Facebook page.

“Today I quit being a Christian. I'm out. I remain committed to Christ as always but not to being 'Christian' or to being part of Christianity. It's simply impossible for me to 'belong' to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group. For ten years, I've tried. I've failed. I'm an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else.

“I'm out. In the name of Christ, I refuse to be anti-gay. I refuse to be anti-feminist. I refuse to be anti-artificial birth control. I refuse to be anti-Democrat. I refuse to be anti-secular humanism. I refuse to be anti-science. I refuse to be anti-life. In the name of Christ, I quit Christianity and being Christian. Amen.”

I know that feeling of not belonging anymore, of not wanting to identify with the extreme right-wing group-think mentality that is so prevalent in evangelical circles. Like Ms. Rice, I am beginning to feel like an outsider – not from the body of Christ, mind you, but from the legalistic, anti-grace political machine of organized religion. For a very long time I’ve been sad that Christians have come to be known for what we’re against rather than what we are for and how we love.

Some are saying that they hope Anne Rice can find a loving caring segment of the body of Christ where she could be at home. I can agree with that wish, but maybe it misses the point she is making – that Christianity is becoming known for some ugly characteristics. Instead of pointing our fingers at her and being upset with her, shouldn't we be concerned about the things that are so very wrong within the church?

Interestingly, this is not a new problem. Jesus-followers in other parts of the world have avoided the term Christian for some time. When we in the West first heard of that happening, some of us judged their motives; perhaps they are trying to avoid persecution or are guilty of diluting the Gospel. In reality, they likely know more about persecution than we can even imagine. Instead the reason for avoiding this term is because it is an inaccurate label; it means something completely different in those cultures than it originally meant.

And now a similar phenomena is happening here in our own country - that the label "Christian" conjures up all kinds of hateful stereotypes. What are we to do about this perception? Different people come up with different tactics. Some choose to try to change Christianity into something that more closely resembles our leader. Others have given up on that attempt and feel that they must disassociate themselves from the hateful brand of Christianity that seems so un-Christlike. No matter which route you or I choose, somebody is going to find fault with it and question our wisdom and our motives as they have done with Anne Rice.

So what is the best God-honoring stance for me? Should I focus my energy and resources on trying to change the church? What can be done that might make a difference? Do we need to be part of the body of Christ? Does that mean that we must be members of the institutional church?

May God give Anne Rice wisdom to use her vast influence in a Jesus-honoring way. And God help me to be grace-filled and God-glorifying in my little world as well.

May the bride of Christ be beautiful and ready for her bridegroom.