Is Challenging Church Norms and Embracing Change the Same as Rebuking the Church?
When Our New Perspectives on Faith and Life Undermine the People We Love and Care About
Each and every time I post an article, I have to deal with my fears. I still can’t seem to shake the belief that every post I put up is probably the dumbest thing anyone has ever read. Then you all read it and wouldn’t you know, it goes just fine.
But then…there are still the fears as I begin the next article. Let me share a few with you:
Mistakes
Making mistakes doesn't particularly bother me. Mistakes are a part of the learning process, and they can be corrected. It's intimidating to go through this learning process publicly, in writing for everyone to see. I strive not to make mistakes, but even if they happen, they are temporary and don't reflect much on my worldview.
Being Wrong
Being wrong about something goes much deeper. It means a belief of mine is factually incorrect. When I'm wrong, it feels like I'm being stupid, uninformed, or foolish. I conduct thorough research before each article to substantiate my claims and validate my thinking. If I'm wrong, there's no case to build, and it's a waste of time for me and my readers.
Writing Errors
I also worry about logistical aspects like typos and sentence structure. Typos make any work look sloppy, and improper comma usage is another concern. I often struggle with overusing commas. I typically go through at least two drafts before publishing, but writing can be messy before it becomes clear.
By the time you see my article, it’s gone through at least 2 drafts. Take the alcohol article, for instance. I completely trashed my first draft. More than 2,500 words in the digital trash can. It wasn’t complete garbage, but it wasn’t the right stuff. I have to vomit it onto the computer screen and out of my mind before I can get to what I’m really trying to say.
I do use an editor (sometimes 2), but they only get to see my final draft. I’ll take their corrections and suggestions and make a final, final draft, which is still only blog-worthy. For instance, if I was trying to publish this at an actual publication other than here, I’d delete this and the previous paragraph. They’re superfluous and don’t add anything of true value to the article today.
Legal Concerns
Believe it or not, I worry about some legalities. For instance, did I give enough credit to the creator of the picture I used for each article? Have I quoted and cited someone appropriately or can I call that statement my own? As a writer (creator), I want to be sure to give credit where credit is due.
Yet, what I fear most when I hit the publish button is that I may inadvertently hurt someone I love or someone who loves me.
I worry that my words could leave scars on the people who raised and nurtured me, or even worse, that someone might take offense and blame my parents for what I say.
This is what terrifies me.
Please, don’t blame them for what this nitwit says. I don’t speak for them.1
As I posted the previous article, I knew there would be some people who would struggle with it. So did one of my editors. Their text to me: “Lol. Not sure how that one will go over.”
Someone, please tell my editors they’re not supposed to play the role of Job’s comforters.
As usual, I shoved the fear aside and clicked the publish button. And, as usual, things went ok.
The most pointed comment I received was from one of those people I knew who cares for me deeply. To say they are neck-deep in the world of the Church of the Nazarene would be an understatement. At this point, they’re breathing with a snorkel. The comment was this:
“The subject of alcohol’s impact on society and the church […] is an important issue. You are such a gifted writer that one feels compelled to agree with you even if it means climbing over deeply held notions. I guess I would simply ask why such a discussion necessarily includes a rebuke of the church.”
That, my dear reader, is a master-class in how to ask somebody a question that might be received as … what was the word I used? Ah, yes. Pointed. I mean it was still pretty tame, but the word rebuke brought to light how my words felt to him and likely others in the faith community that raised me.
Oh, might I interject here- in what can be the unfriendly world of the social media comment section, this person set their defensiveness aside, complimented my, A) choice of subject, and B) personal skills before getting to his challenge of me. That’s how it’s done, folks.
The question was specific to that article, but it wouldn’t be a stretch to apply it to most things I’ve written in this space. When I began this blog, it was not my intention to take the church to task. I certainly didn’t see myself as rebuking it. But Truth is in the eye of the beholder, right?
So, why do I do this?
Well first of all, for most of my life, nothing defined me more than my church community. I was born into it, raised in it, went to school in it, found my wife in it, found employment in it, and had my children dedicated to God in it. So, while the Sunday-School-correct statement would be “Jesus defines me,” the fact is that the church defined Jesus for me. As such, it defined how Jesus defined me. As I began to examine the reasons for my faith, I began to believe I should look more to Jesus than the church to define me. You know, as long as my goal is to be like Christ rather than the church.
I began to test everything, including the things I was raised to believe. That is, I tested the teachings, doctrines and ethical principles of my church. I looked to other places to learn about my faith. I learned new ideas. I learned new ways of understanding the Bible and I learned new things about the Bible - the collection of religious texts itself.
As I shifted my focus from “how would the church have me live,” to, “how would Jesus have me live,” I just began to see some failures in my faith community. More on this in a moment.
Second, I’ve just kind of always been this way. I’m far more likely to hold my own people to task than I am to call out a group of people who see things differently than we do. I have a clear memory of my father telling me I could be more supportive of my brother when he got into arguments with the kids in the neighborhood. It’s as if I was always trying to play devil’s advocate.
I’ve had the same tendency when raising my children.
My child might say, “Dad, everyone else got a “C” on that test too!”
“Josh,” I’d respond, “I’m not concerned with what everyone else got on that test. I’m concerned with what you got on the test.”
What strikes me as odd is how we evangelical Christians somehow got into the practice of pointing out the sins of others.
It’s not how I see Jesus acting at all. Jesus’s gripe was with his own people. When he flipped the tables in the temple court, he flipped the tables in the temple court. When Jesus’s own people went to the Romans to have him crucified, it wasn’t because he was causing problems for the Gentiles.2
Nobody is ever going to confuse me for Jesus (though, that is the goal, right?). I’m not trying to say that I’m trying to rebuke the church because that’s what Jesus did.
But as I’ve looked at some of the doctrines of my church, and even in the context of the larger, Christian church, I’ve seen things that have hurt people. Things that have left people feeling like they’re on the outside looking in. Things that have made them feel labeled, or not good enough for the love of God.
So I try to point those things out without flipping over tables.
Some may argue that, given my current absence from a Nazarene Church, I should avoid this discussion; that I’m on the outside looking in. It's a valid point. However, my personal experiences form the basis of my understanding. Furthermore, my aim isn't necessarily to single out the Nazarenes. In essence, as I explore these topics and highlight perceived flaws within the broader evangelical community, addressing the shortcomings within my own context is my way of acknowledging, "We also have room for improvement."
For those who believe I'm being overly critical of the church, I want to emphasize that there are aspects I wholeheartedly support. I may articulate these beliefs differently today and with different intentions. Nonetheless, they are significant reasons for my continued involvement. I assure you that I will discuss these positive aspects as well. It's just not my focus at the moment.
These lines may have sounded familiar to you. I’ve borrowed this from somewhere else. It’s one of those “If you know, you know,” kind of deals. I’m curious if you know. If you do, you’re saying quite a bit about yourself. Tell me in the comments if you know where I got it.
Actually, I believe this was part of it. Jesus was gaining a following which was a threat to the Jewish leadership. But also, the same Jewish leadership was concerned that if Jesus’s following became too large, the Romans would see the Jews as a threat to their rule and would destroy them. Did Jesus threaten their leadership? Yes. But from their perspective, he was a threat to their entire people group. So, better one man die than many.