Month: April 2018

I did a search online on the Church and singleness and the Churches treatment of singles. There were pages after pages in my different search results. And, dang. It was mostly depressing stuff.

Is the Church a welcoming place for singles? Or is the Church failing a significant proportion of society? Let me share some of my observations.

Socializing.

I have noticed that married people tend to prefer extending dinner and hang out invites to other married couples. Which you really notice as you get older and the number of single people diminishes. I know of people who discovered that there were people in their church community who (after years of knowing them) suddenly wanted to spend time with them and invite them over to their houses, now that they were in a relationship. Apparently they are doing other married couple stuff that single people supposedly cannot participate in.

I’m sorry but are you guys swingers? Are the car keys going into a bowl at these gatherings? Interesting – the next Netflix documentary may be The Secret Life of Christian Married Couples.

The message singles(never been married, divorced, widowed, non-attending spouse) receive is that marital status determines worthiness of connection. In other words, if you want to be embraced by your community more fully – put a ring on it.

Segregated home groups.

One thing I have noticed with many churches is the segregating of their communities through the ordering of their home/cell/small/life groups.  I don’t know of many extended families that segregate by age and marital status. So how come the Church does this in the name of ‘family’?

Sermon Analogies.

When preachers try to stay relatable to their congregations in their sermons by sticking with analogies about their spouse and/or children. Not always relatable to people who are not married and have no children. Also the “you won’t really know what love is until you have children’ statements from the pulpit.

Marriage used as a prerequisite for leadership in ministry.

No ring? Then you can kiss leadership opportunities goodbye in many churches – especially if you are a woman. Don’t believe me, check out a few church websites right now and scroll through their leaders section. There are literally people who gained their position in churches almost solely through marriage. Similar to people in relationships having greater access to connection.

Although there are some leaders bucking the trend, It would appear to me that overall, the Church is an organisation designed by married people for married people. No widows or orphans here thanks.

I have a really difficult time being a single thirty something in the Church. At times I feel second-class. It can be incredibly painful. But it’s one of those things that can feel too embarrassing to talk about publically. Not many over 30 singles want to talk about it. And I think that it’s more than me feeling sad that I don’t have a man. It’s more to do with my worth and value for connection. And because my getting married doesn’t change the culture.

You have probably heard of the whole “men are leaving the Church in droves” myth. It’s just not true. According to research one of the biggest groups not represented in the church is singles. For the most part the Church has been losing its relevance to people who do not fit the mold of husband, wife, kids, and the white picket fence.

Is there a greater church conspiracy against singles right now?

Maybe the bigger issue is that we as humans have difficulty with acknowledging otherness. We tend to accept, encourage and promote sameness. We recognize people who remind us of ourselves. In other words; I celebrate you for looking like me. In that regard marital status is probably not much different to how the Church tends to treat race, culture, gender, socio-economic status or political affiliation.

Our fear of what is different can come across as; you are different, therefore you don’t belong.

The thing is large groups of people didn’t suddenly wake up one day being different. People have been different for a long time, as in thousands of years long time. The issue isn’t difference. The real issue is how do we view and treat those who are different?

If this post on singleness has been a surprising read for you that’s probably because you are married, and most probably married young.

As a married person (especially a married man) in the church you experience privileges that single people – never been married, divorced or widowed – usually don’t get to experience. This is what people are referring to when they use the term privilege.

If you reflect the accepted majority of your community  you, more likely then not, experience privilege. This is not some leftist social construct. If it is easy for you to turn the other way, to not see, then that my friend, is privilege. If you can sit there and say there is no such thing as privilege. It is your privilege that allows you to believe that.

If you were surprised by Taika Watiti’s comments on racism.

If someone has to explain #MeToo to you.

If someone has to explain to you what it feels like to be single in the Church.

That is privilege.

This blog post took a turn that I was not expecting when I started typing. I know that talking about privilege tends to offend the privileged. I can feel the boat starting to rock. I smell the steak cooking on the bbq.

As a western, predominately white, woman, I experience forms of privilege that non-western, non-white woman don’t have. If I don’t want to hear about the prevalence of rape in conflict zones or domestic violence in my own nation, I can change the channel or scroll past the headline on my newsfeed. And if I can turn away from the suffering of those who are different, I am exercising my privilege.

The way I see it, the Church has a privilege issue. The solution is; what do we do with our privilege? The solution is not to ignore it, but neither is it for us to go on some kind of guilt trip over our fortunate circumstances. (And don’t get me started on poverty tourism)

What do we do with our privilege?

I know what God did with His.

 

John 1:10-11, Matthew 25:31-46, Romans 5:8

He was despised and rejected–a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief. We turned our backs on him and looked the other way. He was despised, and we did not care. Isaiah 53:3

I find it easier to express myself through the written word. Writing is a form of self-expression for me. I have difficulty trying to write and speak in the words of others. I don’t want to forever cut and paste someone else’s voice. Grafting their words into my speech, as though they were my own.

I want to express myself through what I choose to say and what I choose to write.

I was speaking at a church a few weeks ago. I was talking about the unity of the Trinity and how it speaks of the unity we are called to have with one another as the body of believers. I shared how I believe that it doesn’t really matter what words are used to describe this unity. Whether you use phrases such as ‘the Body’ or ‘Family’ to describe the unique relationship we as believers are called to live. It’s not how you say it that matters. It’s how you carry it. It matters more how you live it out than if you used the ‘right’ phrasing.

Regurgitation is not the same as understanding. Neither would it mean that I was walking it out. I could memorise every one of Christ’s words, but would quoting scripture make me anymore spiritual? Or would quoting Brene Brown make me anymore vulnerable?

You will rarely hear me use the word ‘kingdom’ to describe anything. How could I condense the beauty and fullness of who we are called to be with one adjective? Also, I’ve heard that word used to describe everything from the Church, to meetings, to socializing, to music, to movies, that now I’m not really sure I know what that word means anymore.

I’ve always been kind of different. And for the longest time I saw that as a negative. To me being different meant not fitting in. Not belonging. It meant being the perpetual outsider.

I have come to see myself as somewhat of a reluctant non-conformist. I don’t want to squeeze myself into a box. I don’t want to comply with rules and expectations that I disagree with. I want to take hold of the boat and give it a good rocking, but I know that people tend to freak out when boats do that. (I have noticed that people who claim to love a good boat rocking (i.e. hate ‘Religion’) have a habit of losing it when it’s someone other than them selves are doing the rocking.) I don’t like conflict. I tend to avoid it.

What if to truly express myself equates to challenging the status quo? What if being myself would invite the conflict I so fear?

I have lived with the belief that the less seen or heard I am, the safer I am. Safe, but barely living.

The Oxford dictionary defines self-expression as; the expression of one’s feelings, thoughts, or ideas, especially in writing, art, music, or dance.

Essentially expressing your truth through a creative medium. This could explain why creativity is such a massive exercise in vulnerability. You are, for all intents and purposes, putting yourself out there.

I have read that creativity wounds in childhood are some of the deepest wounds that people carry into adulthood. It only takes one remark from one adult for someone to put their pencils or paints down for good. I wonder how many adults think they are not creative simply because long ago someone told them they were not.

I have had people tell me that I am not creative/visionary. A while ago when giving a suggestion once to a leader, I was explained to about how creative/artistic people think. There have been a few times when I have had some people state to me that creative/visionary people are not administrative and administrational people are not creative/visionary. In the context of them talking about my administrative abilities and their lack thereof. Which they brought up, not me. Thank you for the backhanded compliment I guess (I am punctual and know how to tap buttons on a calculator… In scripture, the Apostle Paul refers to the spiritual gift of administration, and later says that if you don’t have a particular spiritual gift, you can ask God and He will give it to you.) I am a details person. And yet out of the 34 strengths listed in Strength Finders, Futuristic is number four in my results. Us details people can have big dreams and big ideas too! Just like how creative people know how to tell time or can tie their own shoelaces. Using being a “creative’ or a “visionary” person to justify one’s own laziness is…not only remarkably insulting to creatives and/or visionaries it’s…just…argh! Lazy isn’t a personality trait. Deep breaths. Okay. Cathartic rant over.

I am creative. I am visionary.

I won’t let others tell me that I am not in order to anchor their own narrative.

Their self beliefs don’t have to be my beliefs.

I will instead choose to believe in the way I come alive when I am self-expressive.

I will believe in my passion to explore different creative outlets.

I will meditate on the dreams in my heart and the visions in my head.

It’s not because I’m not a visionary that I do church admin. I do church admin because of my vision for what my local church community could be. Vision gives the mundane a purpose.

I am convinced that true creatives carry an element of the prophetic in their expression. They draw our attention to the truth of our reality, no matter how painful. But they can also inspire us with imagery of what could be. They don’t always entertain us. They can cause us discomfort, awkwardness, even anger. It’s not all hand holding and staring at the clouds. There are times when self-expression looks like putting on your gloves and fighting; for yourself, for what you believe. It looks like climbing up the cliff face, digging your bloodied fingers into the crevices, refusing to let go. It looks like standing back up after you have been knocked back, crashing down.

Self-expression can be terrifying. Sometimes I don’t know if I’m more afraid that people won’t read anything I write or that they will. I am afraid of being misunderstood. I am afraid that it won’t be good enough. I am afraid of my vulnerability being used against me, or my vulnerability making people so uncomfortable that they avoid me. The very definition of vulnerability is the quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.

But as scared as I am, I want to be creative in a way that creates movement. I want to be able to express myself more fully and more honestly. I want to inspire that same yearning in others. To become seen and heard and fully alive as fully themselves.

 I’ve heard it said that struggle and difficulty make us stronger.

But in all honesty, it doesn’t feel that way to me right now. I don’t feel strong. Right now I feel weakened by heartbreak, by sorrow and by disappointment. I feel like a broken vessel emptied of strength.

I’ve heard it said that the struggle we go through prepares us for our calling.

But what if it doesn’t? What if there is no purpose in the pain? What if this is simply part being alive?

I remember being at ministry school being told that on average students start to thrive after two to three years after graduation. I am about to hit that three-year mark. And I am feeling anything close to thriving. This is one instance when I don’t want to be an above average student. There are a group of students from said ministry school ministering alongside our church at the time of writing. You may judge me, but I have chosen to have very little involvement with this team of students this year. Their presence reminds me of how I am not thriving outside of the cultural bubble of ministry school.

I wish that I were stronger. I wish that I could bury it down and perform for you. Wind up the music box and watch me dance.

Why are the broken ones considered the strange ones?

I wonder how long a winter season is supposed to last. I have been on the edge of Spring so many times in the past several years. I have glimpsed it. I have tasted it.

I wonder what Christ must have felt like that evening in the garden. Broken and shattered. With even greater sorrow awaiting him.

What does it mean to share in the sufferings of Christ?

Is there something of an intimacy with Christ that we only get to experience in that place of fragility?

What did it feel like to be Christ, alone in that garden? Abandoned and rejected by those who had committed everything to him. What disappointment did he feel when his friends slept through his dark night of the soul? Did Christ experience hope in the midst of his suffering? Or did He see himself as surrendering reluctantly to the will of another?

Pain is insufferable without hope. Without hope we could never participate willingly, freely in the full experience of our pain. I would rather dull my pain with distraction. I would choose to participate in the resurrection over the crucifixion any day.

When Christ was crucified he was naked. His hands nailed to a wooden beam, he couldn’t cover himself. He couldn’t hide. The public display of pain can be a shameful experience. We are exposed and can do nothing to cover ourselves. We feel humiliated and ashamed. Misunderstood. Even with people singing the praises of (other people’s) vulnerability, the awkwardness is palpable.

I want to make a giant neon sign and hang it from every building. Don’t praise vulnerable. Be vulnerable.

How many of us ever allow ourselves to identify with Christ in this way?

Would our knowing that we can experience a deeper sense of intimacy with Christ through the embracing of our suffering, help us to see our suffering differently?