Deconstruction and Leaving time
“Faith does not need to push the river because faith is able to trust that there is a river. The river is flowing. We are in it.” Richard Rohr
I wrestled with this decision for a long time. If you look at it closely, maybe years. Years I sat in pews and rows and felt like something was missing, but I never knew exactly what it was. I heard the words and yet something in them didn't sit quite right with me. And yet who was I to question them? Pastors have been given this super power by God by which they can say no wrong, right? It's why at the beginning of sermons pastors pray that any words that are not from God not even reach the people's ears? Now I know this isn't true, and yet it was so deeply engrained in me as a truth I had just picked up along the way that it felt true. These pastors and teachers and men of God had some sort of Divine revelation that I did not and because I wasn't given any of that revelation or wisdom it meant I had to sit down and go along for the ride and ignore this prickling feeling inside me that there must be more.
And then I heard teachings that made sense to me. I heard people - pastors and non-pastors alike - talking about things like non-dualism and there are no others and the mystery of God that doesn't have to fit into the box I always thought it did and how the mind and the soul and the heart and the body of every human being is good. And inside it felt like this huge sigh of "I knew it."
So much of the theology and knowledge I was handed growing up no longer fits me. I accepted it as truth for so long, not questioning it, and then when I stopped to look at it I realized there wasn't much for me there anymore. The beliefs and ideas and rules that I had held to no longer served me.
And so I entered the wilderness. Like David running away from Saul, running away from the way things were into the wilderness. I became one of the spiritually homeless.
I wish I could tell you how much of a gift that has been to me.
I found a tribe of people out there in the wilderness who were asking the same questions I was, who were fighting against the way things were because they knew there was something else out there.
I don't know how to quite write this next part without being misunderstood but from the moment I decided it I knew I needed to write about it.
I have decided to step away from the organization and institution of church for the time being.
I made this decision and then shortly after realized it was the season of Lent, a season of giving up things in order to pursue healing and wholeness. I laughed to myself, thinking of naming this post "I'm giving up Church for Lent" which would not be totally inaccurate except that I don't know how long this season will last (I have talked it over with friends and family members I trust and have decided to re-evaluate this decision at Easter, meaning this first season at least will last for the duration of Lent) and I'm not giving up church in the way one gives up chocolate or coffee.
I've talked about this for a long time and yet when my husband brought the idea up to me again after a particularly religiously triggering Sunday I resisted it. It was because of that resistance I knew there was something there. My immediate thought was that I wouldn't be good enough if I stopped going to church, that somehow God would be upset with me if I intentionally made the decision to step away instead of unintentionally decided to sleep in most Sunday mornings, and of course there would be the issue of what would people think? All of these reasons, I decided, were reason enough to step away from church. I decided I would instead use Sunday mornings to examine these questions, to deconstruct what I believe about church, both as it was intended to be and as it is now, and what I believe about God and how those two things fit together.
In no way does this mean I am turning my back on God. In fact since this deconstruction phase started a few years ago I have become closer to God than ever before. Instead of just knowing about God, I have gotten to know God. I have stripped away the lies and the shame and the religious baggage and have come to the truth of what I believe.
And in no way does this mean I am giving up on community. I have intentional community, both online and in person, to discuss spirituality with and be challenged. And in no way am I withdrawing from the community I have met at church here. It's not the people I am stepping away from but the institution. I have a great deal of respect for my local church and the people who attend it, this is just a personal decision and following where I think God is leading me.
I get that to a lot of you this might sound foreign, like a strange concept. And I assure you it sounded like that to me when I first entertained the idea. But the more I sit with it the more I feel like its something I need to do. It may not be something that can be easily understood, but I feel like it is what I'm being called to at this time.
I wish I could more clearly transport my thoughts onto this page, to clearly convey the strong feelings I have both about God and about the church, but despite my best efforts I seem to be lacking.
I am entering into this season to do battle with the shadows in my own heart, to chip away at the things that no longer serve me and to continue this healing journey. I hope to be able to write my way through some of this processing, as writing is how I process the world best as well as I always wanted this blog space to be a space of honesty, of healing, of telling my truth and I feel this will be a great way to do that.
I already anticipate the varying responses I will get to this post and so I say kindly now, if your goal is just to criticize my decision or tell me why I am wrong, don't bother commenting. Any negative comments will be deleted. I am more than open to engaging in conversation as long as the conversation is approached from the angle of making space for one another, even if we disagree, and being open to hearing what the other has to say.
I wrestled with this decision for a long time. If you look at it closely, maybe years. Years I sat in pews and rows and felt like something was missing, but I never knew exactly what it was. I heard the words and yet something in them didn't sit quite right with me. And yet who was I to question them? Pastors have been given this super power by God by which they can say no wrong, right? It's why at the beginning of sermons pastors pray that any words that are not from God not even reach the people's ears? Now I know this isn't true, and yet it was so deeply engrained in me as a truth I had just picked up along the way that it felt true. These pastors and teachers and men of God had some sort of Divine revelation that I did not and because I wasn't given any of that revelation or wisdom it meant I had to sit down and go along for the ride and ignore this prickling feeling inside me that there must be more.
And then I heard teachings that made sense to me. I heard people - pastors and non-pastors alike - talking about things like non-dualism and there are no others and the mystery of God that doesn't have to fit into the box I always thought it did and how the mind and the soul and the heart and the body of every human being is good. And inside it felt like this huge sigh of "I knew it."
So much of the theology and knowledge I was handed growing up no longer fits me. I accepted it as truth for so long, not questioning it, and then when I stopped to look at it I realized there wasn't much for me there anymore. The beliefs and ideas and rules that I had held to no longer served me.
And so I entered the wilderness. Like David running away from Saul, running away from the way things were into the wilderness. I became one of the spiritually homeless.
I wish I could tell you how much of a gift that has been to me.
I found a tribe of people out there in the wilderness who were asking the same questions I was, who were fighting against the way things were because they knew there was something else out there.
I don't know how to quite write this next part without being misunderstood but from the moment I decided it I knew I needed to write about it.
I have decided to step away from the organization and institution of church for the time being.
I made this decision and then shortly after realized it was the season of Lent, a season of giving up things in order to pursue healing and wholeness. I laughed to myself, thinking of naming this post "I'm giving up Church for Lent" which would not be totally inaccurate except that I don't know how long this season will last (I have talked it over with friends and family members I trust and have decided to re-evaluate this decision at Easter, meaning this first season at least will last for the duration of Lent) and I'm not giving up church in the way one gives up chocolate or coffee.
I've talked about this for a long time and yet when my husband brought the idea up to me again after a particularly religiously triggering Sunday I resisted it. It was because of that resistance I knew there was something there. My immediate thought was that I wouldn't be good enough if I stopped going to church, that somehow God would be upset with me if I intentionally made the decision to step away instead of unintentionally decided to sleep in most Sunday mornings, and of course there would be the issue of what would people think? All of these reasons, I decided, were reason enough to step away from church. I decided I would instead use Sunday mornings to examine these questions, to deconstruct what I believe about church, both as it was intended to be and as it is now, and what I believe about God and how those two things fit together.
In no way does this mean I am turning my back on God. In fact since this deconstruction phase started a few years ago I have become closer to God than ever before. Instead of just knowing about God, I have gotten to know God. I have stripped away the lies and the shame and the religious baggage and have come to the truth of what I believe.
And in no way does this mean I am giving up on community. I have intentional community, both online and in person, to discuss spirituality with and be challenged. And in no way am I withdrawing from the community I have met at church here. It's not the people I am stepping away from but the institution. I have a great deal of respect for my local church and the people who attend it, this is just a personal decision and following where I think God is leading me.
I get that to a lot of you this might sound foreign, like a strange concept. And I assure you it sounded like that to me when I first entertained the idea. But the more I sit with it the more I feel like its something I need to do. It may not be something that can be easily understood, but I feel like it is what I'm being called to at this time.
I wish I could more clearly transport my thoughts onto this page, to clearly convey the strong feelings I have both about God and about the church, but despite my best efforts I seem to be lacking.
I am entering into this season to do battle with the shadows in my own heart, to chip away at the things that no longer serve me and to continue this healing journey. I hope to be able to write my way through some of this processing, as writing is how I process the world best as well as I always wanted this blog space to be a space of honesty, of healing, of telling my truth and I feel this will be a great way to do that.
I already anticipate the varying responses I will get to this post and so I say kindly now, if your goal is just to criticize my decision or tell me why I am wrong, don't bother commenting. Any negative comments will be deleted. I am more than open to engaging in conversation as long as the conversation is approached from the angle of making space for one another, even if we disagree, and being open to hearing what the other has to say.
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