Free Write in a Moment of Sadness
What you don’t know about me would fill a book.
I’m feeling sad this morning. Sometimes I wonder if I’m mentally ill, because yesterday I was high as a kite! I’d suspect bipolar disorder only my cycles are way too short.
Anyway I’m feeling sad this morning and it has something to do with a couple of emails I’ve received this week. I can’t quite shake it, and I can’t quite suss it all out in my head, so there’s nothing to do but to write it out.
So I got these two emails this week, one from a pastor at a local church who I do not know, and one from a distant acquaintance. In both emails these men expressed concern for my doctrine. Neither email was angry or even argumentative. Both of them seemed fairly kind and mostly genuine. But still, my emotional response was a slow-building sadness. Why?
I’m not afraid of defending my beliefs or my practices. I like how we host Monkfish Abbey and I like the generous approach we’ve adopted there. I’m a decent teacher and I don’t mind exposing people to postmodern understandings and to the Emergent movement (‘though it’s difficult to define). I don’t mind answering honest questions. I’m not motivated to get people ‘on the same page’ as me, and it’s not uncomfortable for me to be in the midst of a dichotomy, or to live in mystery, or to hold two ideas in the same open palm. But the thing is, I get sad when people express concern over doctrine. And when I feel this, I think it’s a breaking of the heart of Christ that I’m participating in, because I truly think he’s saddened by the amount of time his follower spend debating doctrinal beliefs. Seriously, I think it’s safe to say that the church – at least all the churches I’ve been involved in – has spent more time comparing and contrasting belief systems than they have loving their neighbors, or living with the poor, or paying attention to the marginalized. That breaks my heart.
It not only breaks my heart that the church is still doing this, but it breaks my heart that I participated in that. It’s one of those things that I need to make confession for, which I need to apologize for, as an individual and on behalf of my family history. I’m not saying that people shouldn’t talk about their beliefs. Doing so is a part of understanding our relationship to God, and it helps us find our place in the great ongoing story of living in and with the Divine. But most of the time we aren’t really discussing beliefs in a formative sort of way—in order to find ourselves transformed into a more Christ-like or God-like person. Rather, we discuss beliefs/doctrine/dogma/theology in order to show how right we are and how wrong the other person is. Really. It’s ridiculous.
So I’m sad about the distracting nature of doctrinal debate. I’m sad that it takes up so much of “the church’s” brain time, and daytime, and lifetime. And I’m sad that the first thing that comes up with these two men (and so many unnamed and unheard from others) is not that wandering souls have found a place to call home, or that the loving hand of Christ is being extended beyond the four walls of the church and into the city, or that people are re-connecting with a childhood God that they thought they had to abandon. Rather, the first thing that comes up in their “Christian” minds is “is this person doctrinally sound?” What can I say? That flattens me. It truly breaks my heart. Not in a sort of self-serving woe-is-me sort of way, but in the charismatic experiencing-the-heart-of-Christ-for-God’s-people sort of way–if you know what I mean. There’s a different flavor to it…it has a different tenor.
Anyway, the other thing that makes me sad is that these two folks (and again, a lot of other who haven’t written, but I have enough experience with these sort of things to know that they are out there) don’t get to see these amazing moments in our Monkfishy way of living where God just shines through.
I had an experience this week where I got rather sideways towards someone I love. I got played, and my friend got caught, and then we had to have a ‘come to Jesus’ moment and sort the whole thing out. My friend was very apologetic and pretty much flattened by the fact that he got caught—but even more so—by the reality that he broke trust with a couple people he loved, myself included. We had a heart to heart, and I forgave the gaff and we got re-aligned with each other. The next day though, my friend was still pretty hangdog and sad, still carrying around the sorry-for-it-ness of it all. And the thing was, I was done with it. I suddenly realized that I felt ‘gracious and compassionate.’ That’s the exact phrase that popped into my head, and I realized that I had been humming that scripture-based song all day. “The Lord is gracious and compassionate; slow to anger and rich in love.” And I realized, ‘Oh my god! I’m actually acting in a God-like way without even thinking about it. Killer! An incarnational moment!” I was downright giddy!
That’s what this Monkfish-y, postmodern, generously orthodox life has meant me, has transformed in me – incarnational living, not at it’s best, but at it’s more central. (I’m not sure what that means but that’s what pouring out onto the keys.) And that kind of thing, that kind of transformational living is what it is all about, man! And it’s sad, very sad to me that people just cannot see it, cannot see past the fact that we don’t have a doctrinal statement one line; that we care more about conversation than conversion; that we see all of life as an invitation into relationship with God; that we don’t mind if you can’t call God ‘Jesus’, or’ the Trinity’, or even ‘God,’ as long you, like us, are longing for connection to the Divine. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think that’s a way in, for me and for others around me—a way into the loving reality of God. And if I can provide that, in any little way, I’ll do it. And this is how I do it, this is how I’ve been asked to do it. And I really don’t give a damn if you don’t like it. I just wish you could see it – see past the idea of who’s wrong and who’s right; and who has all their I’s dotted and T’s crossed; see past the buttoned up systematic theology that tries to figure out God (as if!)—see the beauty of people finding their creator. I wish you could acknowledge my reality here in this place, as I have acknowledged yours.
What you don’t know about me could fill a book.
It makes me sad, too, Rachelle. This post is great and I so appreciate you writing it. You see, I think your “doctrine” is right-on!
For what it’s worth, Rachelle, I read everything you post, and I find myself very excited about what God is doing through you there in Seattle. It’s thought-provoking, challenging, and–most of all–inspiring. I’m sorry about the e-mails you received, but perhaps you can take heart in the fact that anyone who does something of consequence will be questioned. You and the monks are most assuredly doing something of consequence.
Thanks Scott, and Aola. I should say that I’ve gotten a fistful of very positive emails and comments as well, including several requests to come to Monkfish. Isn’t it funny how you have to process the negative so much more than the positive?
Rachelle, in my fifties now, for the longest time i thought I had it all figured out. I had my building blocks of knowledge that I carried with me, I could construct and de-struct other peoples thinking in a moment. But something strange happened years back, when I really started to love like Jesus…the blocks didn’t fit the way they used to. The blocks didn’t really matter, it was how I was willing to fit into the lives, and the circumstances of those I came into contact with. Love became the source of all life…love had all the wisdom, all the answers.
I can’t help but thing of Nicodemus bumping into Jesus in the darkeness of the night wanting some sound doctrine, some sound theology that he could take back to the boys at the temple…Jesus talked about the wind. The women at the well, wanting the best place to engage God meaningfully, the mountain or the temple…Jesus said it doesn’t matter, what matters is spirit and honesty.
Richard Rohr says that Jesus was asked some 183 questions in the gospels…he answered 3, and out of the 3, only one could be called absolute. That answer…To love God, with all your heart, mind, strength and soul, and to love your neighbor. Not a whole lot of theology and doctrine, but a ” whole lota Love.”
I can’t help but think of that scene of reconciliation of Jesus and Peter on the beach. Jesus could have reinforced alot of things to Peter, but he doesn’t. Three times he asked Peter, ” do you love me.”
Rachelle, thank you so much for your beauty and transparency…I really sensed the sadness of Jesus in your words…we have not loved as we should.
You wrote:
“And when I feel this, I think it’s a breaking of the heart of Christ that I’m participating in, because I truly think he’s saddened by the amount of time his follower spend debating doctrinal beliefs.”
And
”
“That flattens me. It truly breaks my heart. Not in a sort of self-serving woe-is-me sort of way, but in the charismatic experiencing-the-heart-of-Christ-for-God’s-people sort of way–if you know what I mean. There’s a different flavor to it…it has a different tenor.”
My response/question:
How is it that we always seem to find ourselves on the God’s side (whatever side we are on)? It just funny how that happens.
The funny thing is that you are so self-serving that it makes this post laughable. I mean is Jesus into exhibitionistic religion. Would you have sex in front of a camera and let them put the pictures on the front page of the newspaper? So, why make a display of your relationships and religion. It’s all parade and posts. If you couldn’t post your experiences and get credit for what your “ministry,” I wonder if you would you still love and serve the way you do. You are a joke.
Dearest Rachelle
While I have never met your personally, we have corresponded on occasions.
First of all, you are not a joke – you are a masterpiece. (Billy - personal insults are never necessary.)
I don’t know what these two gentlemen said to you in their emails. And in some ways, it was probably a shame that these emails came from men rather than concerned women, considering what you have said on your past posts.
I do not presume to know your heart, but I think you have an artistic heart. Artistic hearts bring with them the opportunity to experience profound pleasure and also great bruising as they tend to be more sensitive than most. Perhaps that is why you feel sad?
I think what Billy is responding to is that it is a rather large jump to attribute your sadness to the breaking of God’s heart that these “fairly kind and genuine” men, as you said, have expressed concern for a fellow believer. Perhaps you don’t notice the irony that you have (gently) accused them of making God sad for judging an individual, whereas this post has made sweeping judgements against ‘the church’. I wonder how it is any different to judge a group of people, rather than one person? It would seem the same.
If you replace the word doctrine with ideas, would that make this easier to understand their concern? If they are concerned about the ideas you are exploring, and the effect those ideas would have, wouldn’t it be the least loving thing to ignore that? Isn’t a kind and genuine enquiry better than ignoring someone who you are concerned might be heading into a place of harm? Even Jesus discussed, debated and reasoned ideas with people.
Rachelle, perhaps another way of thinking about this is being incredibly blessed that someone cares enough to reach out to you if they are concerned that you are starting to embrace ideas that are at odds with the ideas that Jesus taught.
It is dangerous to our own growth to shut down kind and genuine discussion by crying “unloving” if people disagree with you. Sometimes it is one of the most loving acts that can occur…..
Hi Rachelle,
Sorry for my part in your bad day. I know that it takes a lot of energy to respond to anything that sounds like a criticism of something that you’ve poured your life into. Thanks for your gracious and thoughtful response to my email. (I’m the previously mentioned acquaintance for the rest of you.)
I’m a pretty conventional Christian. Clear doctrine and understanding the Bible helps me to experience God but I agree that the Church is all to easily split into tiny little divided factions by minor differences over disputable matters.
I’m a pretty simple guy and I follow a pretty simple theology. Ron’s comments pretty closely outline my own simple theology of loving God and loving one another. I’d only add that I take Jesus at His word that he is the way, the truth and the life and that no one comes to the Father except through Him. It’s divisive but I take Him at his word. I do think that there is bad theology out there that can lead people astray. It really all does eventually boil down to loving as God would have us love. I think that your group is a great experiment in walking that out.
I’m also a truth seeker. I’m not a Pharasee and I have enough troubles of my own to worry too much about anyone else ’s doctrine. That doesn’t mean that I might not want to understand what others believe.
Sorry for draining your spirit a bit today. Don’t worry, God will fill you up again right to the top. There will always be people who can drain you but just go back to our true source of joy. Thanks for your thoughtful answers to my questions. Good questions stretch us. Your thoughtful respones was an act of love.
Blessings,
Mike
I don’t think that Rachelle was crying “unloving” at all. She is troubled by the fact that we as believers spend much more time being “concerned” about other Christians and whether they might be stepping off the narrow path than we do taking care of each other, Christian and non-, especially those on the margins. Jesus did spend a little time debating doctrine, but he spent much more time reaching out to the poor, the forgotten, the lost, and the marginalized, in really unorthodox ways. There is room for debate among believers, but in these times, debate is sometimes all there is; it takes up a majority of time in some Christian circles. If we’re focused on drawing (and re-drawing) lines to indicate who’s in and who’s out, we’re probably not spending enough time with the people we’re all called to serve, in Jesus’ name.
Ruth,
If my response evoked your response then it was worth being obnoxious. You’ve captured another dimension of the complex dynamic of what is happening between pomo people and everyone who expresses concerns about the movement. In other words, concerned parties are characterized as sincerely wrong, not bright (or hip) enough to get it, or enemies of Christ.
I was once told there are three sides to every story-yours, mines, and the truth. Sometimes I think God is in thirds position in our debates. And as you said, it’s beautiful that brothers or sisters can respond or attempt to correct us in a loving way. I’m partial to being a little obnoxious and flippant myself.
My concern is with this Brittany Spears, Brad Pitt, Paris Hilton, Nick and Jessica religion that thinks it needs to be so public. Of course, there is enough hidden to write a book (and I’m sure there will be a tell all book written). But, why are we vulgarizing our faith and the intimate details of our relationships. There is something quite unholy about it.
Jesus took a low profile. He often said, “don’t tell anyone I did this.” Keep it on the down low, but who he was was so awesome and there was so powerful, it couldn’t be hidden. Then, again, he said let your light so shine before men, so that they can see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven.
As Nicole Kidman says, whenever she makes a film she feels like a part of her is stolen in the process. And in response to Tom C’s new relationship, she thinks using relationships in a public manner is damaging.
The irony of it all is that the word “monk” is part of the way this community describes itself. I think that it is more “fishy.” Pew!
Billy,
Isnt there a difference between “vulgarizing our faith and the intimate details of our relationships” and being willing to show some vulnerability for the sake of others. It seems to me that a lot of people who are thinking through emergent/postmodern faith issues are still in churches which wouldnt welcome their questions. I feel very lucky that I have a half dozen emergent-type churches to choose from within a few miles of my home….but not everyone does. I think there is real value in ministering to those far off, through vulnerable words…even if its nothing more than a sense that someone else understands. I think its unfair to be critical over that.
Billy, I’m from up north, just a cross the border…am I missing something here. Are you up set that monkfish abbey got some print in a local newspaper. I struggle man, as someone involved in the margins of the church…and in the margins of society…I wish I had it altogether, all the answers like you…but I don’t. I tend to error on the side of grace, and I’m willing to stand there and take His judgement when the time comes. We’re all on a journey my friend ( and I do mean that ), may you be blessed in yours. Pax…Ron+
Rachelle
Thanks for posting honestly, I really enojy reading your thoughts and questions, and think you raise some good ones here. I really value you imput with the ideas and posts you write.
I had a guy the other day offering a ‘gentle rebuke’, and while he had the best of intentions, and was a friendly guy, even the word ‘rebuke’ did offer me pause.
I’m just as guilty of getting caught up in doctrinal debates, and not putting as much effort into serving the poor and others. Jesus opened the temple to people, and served the people he met, while refursing to take part in doctrinanl debates with those determined simply to catch him out. It’s a great challenge to follow him.
****
Billy, you said:
You didn’t add abusive.
I find it risable that you would talk about Jesus and being like him, and then choose to justify your abuse of Rachelle. There is a substantial differerence between being obnixious or flippant, and being personally abusive.
If you want to think of Jesus, how about what he said about calling another person a ‘fool’. Not that different to ‘you are a joke’, surely?
Hi All,
I havent’ been engaging in the back and forth because I didn’t feel like it was a wise use of my time. Thanks though, for those siblings who have take up the hard work of working through our difference, and engaged in helpful and respectful (if oppositional) dialgoue.
I deleted Billy’s last comment because he accused a posting guest of having a low IQ and made racial slurs against our Canadian neighbors, which is simply untenable here. I also didn’t like it that he accused me of witchcraft and being “a stench in my [God’s] nostrils”, but I want to make it very clear that I would not have banned him just for that. I only mention it so that anyone who read his comment before it was deleted will understand that that’s not why he’s been banned, though some may claim that to be. His comments towards other posting guests were inapproprite enough, and frankly, I’m just not going to put up with that.
The diatribe with Billy, which has now come to include laying curses on people and slurs, has gotten too dark, and this is a place of light. I have to end it here. Just for good charismatic coverage (I lived at the Vineyard for 15 years ya’ know) I officially do not received Billly’s words or the spirits attached to them and rebuke his accusations in the name of Jesus Christ.
Out of the generous 1,500+ readers who hit this site each day, Billy is only the second person to be banned. Like most bloggers, I have a policy of not editing or deleting comments. But when things get this ugly, personal, and abusive I must pull the plug.The only other person I have ever prevented from participating was someone who was making homophobic comments.
I’m not opposed to people expressing opposition to me, but when it gets this abusive, I’m turning it off.
In all sincerity, Billy, Shalom.
Rachelle Mee-Chapman
Urban Abbess
Monkfish Abbey, Seattle
Canadian is a race?
Hi Joey, it used to be a race…now it’s just more of a slow jog. Thanks to you all, for letting me be part of your conversation. Pax…Ron+
Rachelle, I was thinking about you today and Billy’s abusive remarks. You did the right thing. This is holy space and anyone who starts hurting, abusing, or shaming people should not be welcomed here.
-L
I read the post and the comments. It brought tears to my eyes…
Peace to all…in Jesus’ name
R: This dialogue all feels so painfully familiar to me. Breaks my heart and I know full well how it can “flat line ya”. Praying for you my sister.
Actually, this is kinda fascinating. These pomo blog debates can get real interesting, but I’ve noticed something. The bloogers can really discpline the participants who deviate from making compliments and concuring with the authors.
This interaction reminds me of Foucalut, panopticism, and demonstrates how these discourse reveal an emerging “technology of discipline.”
Foucault classes all generalized and institutional responses to discipline under the heading “discipline,” and he argues that such responses (whose remote origins are in monastic rules and the regulation of plague ridden cities) have become the principle of modern society. Those who fail to meet the demands of the workshop, army, school or legal discipline become deliquents or criminals. Prisons are viewed as being one extreme of a “great carceral continiuum that diffused peniteniatry techniques into the most innocent disciplines.”
One website describes panopticism:
The delinquent, or as Foucault terms it, the little soul of the criminal, was fabricated as a point of application of power. The development of the delinquent justifies the entire penal system by creating an object of knowledge and a point to which to focus the punishment. The ones who do not conform to the status quo are the ones labeled with this term delinquent. Although the birth of the delinquent can be attributed to the social sciences the accusers have become internalized. No longer are the accusations necessarily from external judges, but from the very accused himself.
The internalization of the punitive process to the point of self-accusation is the core function of the panoptic punitive matrix. With the development of the individual and the concept of the delinquent promoted by the very structure of the punitive matrix the panoptic vision of the punitive matrix focuses upon the maintenance of the structure. Before any animal can be tamed it must be weakened. The ever-present gaze of the matrix works towards this end by its constant pressure of observation. The ultimate effect of the panopticon is compulsory visibility. The role of the individual becomes one more of constriction rather than the freedom that is normally associated with individuality. To be individual is to be visible-to be visible is to be controlled. This visibility results in perpetual reconstruction and verification of the self. The power of this omnipresent gaze is that it does not always have to be present to be effective. This cruel ingenious cage is the structure not only of the prison system, but has penetrated all levels of society. For this structure to function and maintain its power it must bear power over everything. Foucault calls it “the dust of events, actions, behavior and opinions-everything that happens” (213).
Thus, for me, I see pomo xstianity as being far from liberating but panoptic and disciplinary. As D. Bell says, “the mode is the message.”
Maybe, that’s the message is the mode.
Last necc. correction:
Foucault classes all generalized and institutional responses to DISORDER under the heading “discipline,” and he argues that such responses (whose remote origins are in monastic rules and the regulation of plague ridden cities) have become the principle of modern society.
Joey,
It wouldn’t kill ya to try and connect with someone’s heart in this conversation
Hi Jen,
Well, it seems that the heart has a number of ways to speak. Deep calls unto Deep.
The problem is our ears and our hearts.
What do you think Joey’s heart is saying?
Rachelle, Please know that I have been following you and the MonkFish Abbey. I am honored to know you and to share my energy with you. For the few weeks that I have known you and Paul. I have to say that I am blown away by your generosity and truth of character. Thank you.. Brian
Thanks Brian. I dig you too. Much love, R
I think you’re awesome.
Hey Rachelle, I read this post a few days ago and I continue thinking about it. I came back and saw 26 comments. Yikes! So before I read them I wanted to tell how I sad I feel that these people are responding to YOU in this way. I am sure they mean nothing but good tidings however I just think that thinking about theolog”ie” and applied theology are different. I mean I really like sitting around talking about theology and what I think is “true” or “right” or hold your breath “biblical”. But we love talking about Mission, and Missional Church and We can really understand why a missionary would take on certain characteristics in a foreign land to “win folks over for the gospel” I wonder why we still believe that America is a christian nation. Perhaps thats the problem. All that to say I love what you are doing. I wish I could come and make a bracelet, or light my concerns on a paper and burn them. Actually, would you just write down Heidi’s issues and burn it for me? I love the folks you hang with. I wish the armchair theologians/missionaries would just discuss their concerns amongst themselves and send you money.