come thou fount
Church continues to be a blessing. This morning was the fourth time I’ve been to Sunday service, and I also attended the Mark Charles lecture, and the beading workshop, both held there. One of these days I’ll stay for lunch. I want to fellowship more with the attendees, especially those who look awkward there, like me. The theology is still orthodox, but Greg is very willing to go after what would be considered sacred cows to the evangelical establishment, like climate change and immigration, and I’m grateful for that. He’s beginning a sermon series on Philippians, and introduced it by giving some background on Paul’s establishment of the church, and how it was the powerless and lowly of the time that became its initial nucleus (a woman, a slave girl, and a jailer).
If I’m honest, it still gives me pause when inerrancy is alluded to (even though I know Greg shares my viewpoint on that), or even the primacy of scripture asserted. I appreciate how Greg leans into natural revelation far more than would be typical at most churches, but if I had my preference, scripture would be used and emphasized slightly differently than it is. And I’m keyed into masculine pronouns for God now, to the point of near-distraction. Again, like with scripture, I would make it a point to de-emphasize that, but I know the church’s heart in both cases, and they really are putting their money with their mouth is when it comes to being like Jesus to the marginalized, and being welcoming in very practical ways. They strike a good balance between pulling me out of my comfort zone, and being just familiar enough in other ways to provide a mental and emotional foothold. I think that’s OK.
Also, and this sounds (well, is) superficial, but the worship is sung in a lower key, one that I can actually sing without straining my voice, and that’s been refreshing, even if the worship itself is less professional than at other churches (it’s just Greg with his guitar, Brian with the drum and occasional harmonica riffs from the gentleman on the dais). As small as the church is, I feel like I’m able to contribute more to that side of things by actually singing out. So there’s that as well.
Somewhat relatedly, I’m starting to think my church experience growing up was more atypical than I’d always thought it was. Church was a welcoming, happy place, an extended family of sorts, and I almost always looked forward to it, and didn’t chafe against any of its teachings or emphases, or bristle at its requirements. I’m tempted to think myself naive, or just a follower—and that IS one explanation. But another, more likely one is simply that I had good, loving parents who set proper boundaries, and we attended churches that, in the main, weren’t overly legalistic but were trying to follow Christ’s example with their congregants as best they could. So my memories are untainted by any drama or hurt. But in talking with folks, I’m ashamed to admit it didn’t really register how badly many have been damaged by institutionalized religion weaponized against them. Misapplication of scripture and church members with agendas and axes to grind have caused SO much deep, lasting harm to peoples’ psyches. The silver lining, if there is one, is that it pushed them to be more self-reliant in how they sought out God and truth, more independent in their thinking, and that’s especially healthy in this day and age when people outsource so much of their opinion forming to TikTok videos or “influencers.” In a slightly perverse way, I’m actually jealous of how they came by those abilities and instincts, in the same way being cynical or jaded is an aspirational state of mind to those of us who lean more earnest. I need to strike that balance myself, actually, to more frequently practice the habit of seeking out God on my own time and in my own spaces. Being more mindful is a start, but even so, there’s a side of God in general and Christianity in particular that’s only experienced in community, so if we decide to forsake that, we’re depriving ourselves. Is institutional religion the only community in which we can experience God? Of course not. But still think there’s great value in partnering with a group of people who come together explicitly for the purpose of emphasizing their common faith. If nothing else, it reminds me that God transcends our petty differences, and is bigger than all of them.