Risky Business

"Bad theology is like pornography-the imagination of a real relationship without the risk of one."-Richard Rohr I've been thinking a lot about my time in my graduate program at Rochester College.  It was a Masters of Religious Education in Missional Leadership.  I still follow the program's Facebook page and as they depart for the semester's intensive weeks around the country, I reflect on the experience that I had as well.  I noticed this past week that the cohort was experiencing the intensive in Portland, Oregon.  I'll never forget a class that we had in our time in Portland where we were forced to really look at what we thought about hell, salvation, other cultures and religious groups and most importantly, why we thought those things.  We had to ask why so many died in Rwanda in a genocide that was one group of Christians ruthlessly eliminating another.  We looked at the way that art and culture intersect faith and belief in so many beautiful and surprising ways.  Those conversations really began a change in me.

Rewind a year or so before that trip when I had applied for a position in the program. I was fresh into ministry and still reeling from my first year in biblical studies.  I was not the typical college ministry graduate who spent a year in ministry and then jumped into a Seminary program.  I had wrestled with the idea of ministry, made a million bad choices, worked in the business world, stumbled into ministry and quickly became aware of how ill-equipped I was.  Couple this with a growing tension within myself where scripture, the move of God and church life seemed to clash, more than inform one another.  I was well trained in intuiting what people wanted to hear from me and playing the part.  I'm not saying that none of it was real but I have to say a good part of it was simply interpreting and then going through the motions.  If I found myself in a group of conservative Christians, I could quickly play the part of conservative.  If I found myself among a more progressive group I would be more than willing to push the boundaries a bit.  I wrote my essay to the head of the department at Rochester College, an essay that I don't wish to revisit any time soon.  In it, I was honest about my past, confused about my present and clueless about my future.  I included goals that if I was to sum up what I wanted then,  would read like, "I really want this piece of paper that will make me legitimate and a person that church people would blindly follow.  I do want to know how to play the part of missionary through different outreach strategies and I would like to learn all of the necessary scriptures to argue why my way is the best.  If I could do this without having to feel doubt, sadness, or any type of inferiority, that would be best.  Best wishes, Your future student, Matt."  It is grace upon grace that someone was willing to take a chance on me.

For most of my life in the church I was able to get by learning answers, remembering verses and taking part in worship.  Engaging scripture was nothing more than finding the right answer to a problem.  Worship was showing up and knowing what came next.  I know I have brought it up before but I can still hear the sound of every hymnal being pulled from the pew at the exact same time.  We often are running through the motions without any real engagement.  Something happened to me in my time with my MREML cohort at Rochester.  I was exposed.  I had treated the books of the bible like some calendar of scantily clad verses and texts.  Each month had its greatest hits.  The verses that gotten me really excited because they were comfortable and brought the most immediate satisfaction.  I realized that for the deep passionate questions we were wrestling through, a quick flip through the pages of scripture would no longer suffice.  I was going to have to give more.  The engagement with scripture and life that I would encounter was going to take all of me.  It would keep me awake at night, wake me up early, beg time and attention when I didn't have it.  A real, honest, engagement with scripture was going to take a relationship and not a peep show.

Richard Rohr's quote at the beginning of this post has a way of slapping you in the face.  It seems harsh and maybe a bit cheeky but there is no way around it.  We have become victims of the pornification of worship and church life.  In fact, we often choose a place of worship based on how it makes us feel.  Can we direct the bright lights, that cost 10 times more than actual buildings in third world countries, to shine in such a way that we don't have to see any of the untrained professionals.  Money is spent on the website that locks our gaze on its amazing fonts and flash content. A new coat of paint, like the layers of make-up, covering the dark circles and wrinkles of a checkered past.  Theater seats greet new members and paying customers alike. Teens and children are hooked by the bright carnival like atmosphere, entranced and enchanted by the show.  "Take the slide to your classroom.", which spills out into a giant ball pit.  "Parents, don't worry, we will text you if we need your help."  James K. A. Smith, in his latest book "You are What You Love", questions these tactics in engaging our church members.  Whether we want to admit it or not, we are afraid that what the gospel has to offer simply isn't enough any more.  It's like the husband or wife that reaches a point in their marriage where they are trying to "keep it fresh and exciting" when all that the marriage actually needs is a return to their first love.  It is the love that the marriage was founded in and on, the covenantal vows and the way that the two remain invested in and attuned to the other that keeps life firing inside.  All the while, society shows us an illusion of beauty that is high on gloss and short on substance.

With all of the risk of a true covenantal relationship, the rise of pornography is a true epidemic in this country.  For many, the risk of relationship is too great.  Why risk the hurt of a relationship, why risk appearing foolish or lacking?  The epidemic even reaches those who are in marriages and relationships, perhaps even more so.  What you are asking for is the one thing that a true partner can not provide:  Relationship without risk.  So, I ask you to look closely at the way that you engage scripture and the church.  Do you back off and disappear when things get rough?  Are you looking for a dressed up and flashy presentation because it is more appealing to the eye?  Have you, within your favorite scriptures, created an incomplete and even false picture of God so as to avoid being challenged?  A real relationship is ugly, messy, disappointing and heartbreaking, while at the same time, the most beautiful thing that we could imagine.  If we presented this messy version of worship life, I think we would be surprised that the very thing we think will push people away will be what draws them in.  Repetitive authenticity may not get you  a mega church but it will transform lives.

For the first time in my life, whether as a lay believer in Christ or as a ministry leader, I can stop being an actor in this porn production.  There are days that I really am just not feeling it.  There are days that I want to swear at people and tell them that I want to be alone.  It isn't always attractive, in fact it is down right ugly.  I cry and whine and complain, I make promises that I don't keep, I declare something to be true that I then have to back out of.  I will give and give and give while all the while playing in my head the way that you will one day owe me a favor.  Sometimes, I don't really feel the text I have to share, I don't like the language in confession or absolution, the wording of the hymn of the day rubs me the wrong way.  There are days that I am a little shaky on the belief thing. But, for the first time in my life, I really like me.  Not the me that I choose to show to you on any given day but the best version of me that I can muster on that day.  It isn't sexy, it won't get you excited, it is rarely full of energy but I can promise that it is real.  That's all I have to offer.   That's the part of marriage that I now love the most.  It's the part where you are just as in love with your spouse when they have bad breath, bad hair, a bad attitude and kid's puke stains on their shirt.  That's the kind of relationship I stay devoted to God in.  A relationship where I don't have to brush my teeth before saying good morning.  I don't have to put on a false face.  I don't have to pretend to enjoy the things that I don't enjoy and I don't have to create a production to impress anyone.  On my best days, I try to rest in these two things:

Every single bit of me is beautifully and wonderfully made.

and

I am loved, just as I am.