Sunday, September 7, 2008

Recompense

I just finished C.S. Lewis's The Great Divorce. In it, the main character enters a form of heaven and encounters angels as well as newcomers in need of conversion. At one point, he witnesses an interchange between a large angelic figure and a visitor from the Grey Town. The "ghost", as those who have come from the town are called, has perched on his shoulder a large red lizard. This lizard whispers into the ghost's ear, keeping him hypnotized into thinking that he needs the lizard. The angel approaches the man and asks if he may kill the lizard. The ghost makes excuses, stumbles over his words, and tries to change the subject. "May I kill it?" asks the angel, his hand hovering over the lizard, almost burning it. After much debate, the ghost finally consents. The lizard makes a last feable attempt to survive but is silenced as the angel closes his grasp around the reptile and throws it to the ground. The narrator then witnesses the transformation of both the ghost and the lizard. The ghost becomes bright and takes the shape of a man. The lizard returns to life and slowly transforms into a shining horse. The man mounts the horse and the two of them ride into the high countries, the mountains.

I am the ghost. My red lizard has been whispering into my ear for quite some time. I've been discontent with church. I rarely attend. Whenever I do attend, I spend the whole service picking apart every element of the church, the music, the service that I can; convincing myself that it's not a good service (as if I somehow have the authority to make that judgement). My lizard whispers, keeping me in a cloud of cynicism and discontent. The result is separation: from worship, from Christian community, from God Himself.

My lizard was killed this morning. I wish I could say that a glorious transformation a la C.S. Lewis took place, but it didn't. Rather, a change in my heart took place. No, it wasn't an alter call or a tear jerking moment. It was a slow realization of several things. I wasn't picking things apart. I wasn't judging the church or its people. I wasn't doing the things, or rather thinking the thoughts that have dominated my mind and heart in recent months.

I went to Oak Mountain Presbyterian Church. I worshipped. I met some new people and saw some old friends. I listened to the Word. I had an open mind. I could feel the thoughts creeping in: "look at that huge sound board, it must have cost 50,000 dollars!" but as soon as the thoughts had been thunk, they were gone. I didn't dwell on them. I feel like the Lord purposefully redirected my mind, refocused my spirit. Who am I to say anything negative about this church, its worship, or its people?

Rather than stacking up the negatives and trying to find the church with the fewest things I dont' like, I'm going to look for the church with the most things I do like. I've been going about it backwards. This church had a lot of good things going for it, as do many churches. I want to find them. I want to experience the good things, not waste my time tallying shortcomings.

Dear church,

I apologize for being an idiot. I'm sorry I've been so judgemental. Just as no human is perfect, no church is perfect. Therein lies the beauty of Christ's love right? I will be different. I am different. It is right and good to see other Christians in worship of our God. I'm sorry I've been in the way. We cool?

Dear God,

Thank you.

2 comments:

Jessy said...

I had a really hard time finding a church at school that I liked. So, for like a year, I just hop-scotched. Every week I went to a different church and experienced something different. Some good, some GREAT, some I was indifferent to, and sometimes I just didn't go at all. It was an enlightening experience. I've found a great church home now, but I wouldn't have given up that year of discovery for anything - it taught me SO MUCH about the diversity of the body of Christ and of the Church itself- how different people have different needs in worship.

The Dyer Family said...

i have been a guilt ridden, non-practicing, fallen episcopalian for many years, now, all for personal reasons that i cannot get past. i have never been as faithful as you, even when i was active, but it is still a lingering guilt that i wonder, "is it me?" i have been toying around with going back someday. i hope that when i do, it will be the great experience that you had.