Sunday, December 2, 2012

Sunday Reading

I've been seeing so many good posts on the subject of church lately. These ones spoke such hope and life to me, if for no other reason than I found myself nodding as I read and wishing I could organize my own conflicted thoughts about church into something half as elegant. So, for today, Sunday Reading is all about church, with all its difficulty and potential.

  • Sarah Bessey's post about a moment in church that she hopes her daughter remembers made me cry, in a good way. 
Let her remember this Sunday in a school gym, with a bunch of other misfits, we're all longing for Jesus, we're all longing to be seen. Let her remember we had breakfast and I yelled at everyone for the mess in the house, and I put a stew in the crockpot, and we arrived late at church.
And let her remember how I cried my mascara right off, and how I was such a gigantic mess in my real life but I kept trying anyway because I had stars in my eyes, wild in love, and how I sang too-loud, and clutched my breast with relief at being reminded again how He is faithful. And let her remember that He is enough, because He was enough for her crazy imperfect mama.
  • Rachel Held Evans wrote about church, and other things, that you don't have to leave behind when you leave fundamentalism.
I don't know about you, but sometimes it seems like cynicism follows me through every church door, nipping at my heels like a pesky dog as I find my place in the pews. If you're like me, you're a little bit scared, a little bit picky, a little bit tired.
Maybe it's about finding a place where your specific beautiful heart can hear the Good News and take it all the way in. A place where they talk about God in a language you understand. Maybe it's about finding a place where you can serve with your whole, broken heart and be healed in all that giving.
  • Alise Wright wrote about the importance of staying in church, even when you don't fit in.
Sometimes I show up on Sunday and I'm annoyed. I'll roll my eyes at a cliche. I'll cringe at a sexist comment. I'll cross my arms when I disagree about a point of theology. And I'll think, "This is stupid, I don't want to do this anymore."
These are the ones who held me when I lost it one Sunday and just sat in the front row and sobbed. These are the ones who gave up their Saturdays to give food and companionship to some of the poorest and loneliest in our community. These are the ones, who even when they don't say it perfectly, preach that love is what changes the world.

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