Thursday, November 15, 2018

How do we know when we are being "CHURCHY?" & how can we stop?

By THIS all will know you are MY disciples...
    Being  CHURCHY smothers friendship, does not promote love, and hinders the work of the Gospel. 
   That is why we must make every effort not to be "Churchy" Christians.
   When we are, we hurt people.
   We drive people away.
   And sometimes, we drive them away from more than just ourselves or our church fellowships....
CHURCHY Christianity, produces a paradigm I call "Churchianity."
What does CHURCHIANITY look like? I'll share a  personal experience as an example.
   I had plans one evening to attend a regularly scheduled Bible Study at a local assembly. The pastors and I had known and respected one another for many years.
   Because the pastors of this church are much more than acquaintances to me, I call them friends. But I am forced to use the term loosely, because the reality is, they fall just shy of being true friends. 
   The reason is CHURCHIANITY. 
   I can love them and support them [and their ministry] in many ways, but cannot include them in my inner circle of true friends, because I fully appreciate their limitations in relating to people in the capacity of true friendship--which requires functional equality, transparent honesty [while maintaining healthy boundaries], and genuine respect.
   These are good people. They are not dysfunctional in the traditional sense--they are truly lovely in most respects. But they are dysfunctional in the religious sense.
   You see, the shield of their "pastorship" stands on full alert against the equality and intimacy that true friendship demands. 
   Do not misunderstand. I do not encourage disrespect of callings and positions of leadership, we should love and honor leaders who exhibit good examples of Christian living. And even CHURCHY Christians generally have admirable traits as well. What I am addressing in this post, is hiding behind titles, positions,  religiousity, and CHURCHIANITY, which things become more important than relationships
   I have observed that many [basically good-hearted] Christians are unable to lower the shields of their "position" or CHURCHINESS--ever. And it does damage in the lives of God's people.
   Sadly, many seminaries teach future pastors and Christian leaders, that the position of the couple in my story is the correct posture for pastors and their wives to take--but I disagree. 
   The family relationship that connects every member of the Body of Christ  cannot flourish in a hierarchical, military-like, chain-of-command, structure that overwhelmingly produces CHURCHY and JUDGEMENTAL Christians, who fail to relate fully to those who may need their love and friendship but are instead rebuked, even rejected, when they make choices that may not be wrong but fall outside the paradigm of CHURCHIANITY.
   While appreciating this couple's many gifts and strengths--and their sincere passion for the Gospel--I understand that they embrace the paradigm of hierarchical Christianity which comes with filters that cloud discernment and prevents true empathy and bonding in the fellowship of the Holy Spirit.
   Back to my story:
   Since I had communicated with the pastor's wife about my plans to attend that evening, and she was expecting to see me, I felt it only right to let her know I would not be coming.
   The reason? Earlier that afternoon, I  had learned that a dear friend [of almost twenty years] had passed away. The knowledge had come in an unexpected and rather shocking fashion. He ran a local Christian outreach, and I had gone to visit him at his ministry location only to find that he had died and no one had told me. It was a misunderstanding concerning my contact information. They thought it was incorrect and had discarded it as obsolete. 
   My friend and I had not been in regular communication for some years. Life had taken our ministries in different directions. But our strong bond of friendship had been forged through working closely together during my street ministry years and beyond. 
   Neither of us like to chat on the phone, and he did not do social media, so there had been little communication between us aside from occasional reunions. But he had been a beloved friend, a part of the landscape of my life for twenty years. And now that landscape had been unexpectedly and dramatically changed...and I was heartbroken at the look of it, at the loss of my friend, brother, ally, and mentor.
   Since I was expected to be at the Bible study that evening (I was not teaching it), I texted the pastor's wife and told her that I would not be there after all, that a dear friend had died, I had been very weepy all afternoon, and I simply did not feel like interacting with people or going anywhere that evening, not even to church.
   The "CHURCHY" response I received to that text,  flabbergasted me. 
   And to be completely honest, it totally ticked me off. 
   I had obviously shared my bad news with the wrong person, but more importantly (I'm sharing this the way it went down--the way I felt at the time), I felt I had shared it on the wrong day.
   In her texted response, I was told they were sorry for my loss (so far so good), then I was rebuked for skipping church and condescendingly told they would pray for my "strength."
   Wow. How does being rebuked for not attending someone's 501c3 group meeting that night translate into love one another, bear one another's burdens, and weep with those who weep?
   What would have been wrong with saying, "We're so sorry to hear. We love you and understand. Would you like some company later? We can stop by for a bit after church?" I would  have appreciated their understanding and their offer (though I would have declined as I really did want to be alone that evening).
   What I did not understand and did not appreciate, was being told that church was the "best place to be" that night [despite my wishes to the contrary] but they would "pray" for my "strength."
   THIS, is an example of what CHURCHIANITY looks like and what to do if being a CHURCHY Christian is your goal.
   Please understand, that I never, EVER, turn down prayer. I appreciate and solicit all prayers on my behalf. And I generally believe gathering together with other believers is [or should be] one of the greatest places on earth to be. But I'm old enough to remember the days when people who called themselves your friends CAME TO YOU in times of sorrow, instead of expecting you to come to them. And they certainly did not rebuke you for preferring to be in your own home during an evening of private grief because your news had the bad taste of inconveniently arriving on a day their 501c3 organization had a regularly scheduled meeting planned (I thank God for local churches, but almost all local fellowships are 501c3 organizations where the ekklesia meets. It is the Christians themselves (not the 501c3 faith-based non-profits) who are the CHURCH--the ekklesia).
   Sadness over the loss of a friend does not generally make one weak
   I did not feel the need [nor did I ask] for anyone to pray for my strength. At the time, I felt the statement about praying for my strength was connected to my choice to stay home instead of attend their meeting.  I still feel that way.
   But I felt my grief was normal, appropriate, and even healthy. What was wrong with wanting to mourn my friend's passing in the solitude and privacy of my own home instead of at a church meeting?
   Right or wrong, I felt both remarks [praying for my strength and the rebuke for not coming to church that night], were condescending, "CHURCHY," and lacked empathy. And in the emotional weepy state I was, it impacted me in a much more dramatic and painful way than it would have had my sorrow not been freely flowing from my eyes and down my cheeks all that afternoon.
   Being sorrowful because someone we love has died, is not a "weakness." It is completely natural, and I did not need prayer for strength. What I would have loved and appreciated, would have been a positive message that my sadness was understood and that I had friends who  loved me without placing inappropriate "church guilt" on me for not attending their meeting.
   I realized that I was emotional and worried that I might have been over-reacting to what I felt was a CHURCHY response. I knew this Christian did not intend her message to hurt. But her religious response, containing a thinly-veiled criticism and condemnation had injected a sense of injustice and even anger into my grief that did not belong there. I did not feel that was doing anything wrong, but they obviously did, and now I had to deal with that judgement (and I wasn't dealing with it too well at the time, I didn't think). 
   I did not feel I was being a bad Christian, but they obviously did. I did not feel I owed anyone any explanation at all as to why I did not attend their meeting that night--except as a courtesy, because I had made special plans to be there, and had told them to expect me.
   I was offended. I admit it.
  I discerned the rebuke and condescension and felt they were passive-aggressive "CHURCHY" remarks, intended to set me straight in a way that would hopefully not make the person making the remarks appear or sound uncaring.
   But that's exactly the way they looked and sounded to me.    
   Now, I know that the person who made these remarks generally means well and probably spoke without thinking how her remarks would sound or how they might be taken by someone who had just admitted to her that they were in an emotional "weepy" state. But "CHURCHY" attitudes [from this person] had come out more than once over the years. We have communicated together about this, but to no avail as of the time of this writing. Everything is swept under the rug and remains unresolved. 
   How much of this can any relationship bear?
   I write this, in hopes that light can be shed on the the problem of "CHURCHY CHURCHIANITY." It is widespread. This is not the only example I can give--others are even worse (they involve different sets of people). My hope and prayer is that God's people will see CHURCHIANITY for the shallow and hurtful, lose-lose, fraud that it is... and change it. 
   Yes, this interaction affected me in a personal and hurtful way. Did it cause me to write them off and vow never to visit their church again? No. Did it cause me to question and doubt their good intentions and faith? No. We are all works in progress. Did it cause me to question God's love for me? Of course not. 
   But I have spoken with many people who testify that has not been the case for them.  
   CHURCHY Christians do not intend to drive people away from fellowship with other Christians or even away from God, but they sometimes do!
   Loving each other is not rocket science, and religiousity has no place in relationships.
   People of God, it is time to throw out CHURCHIANITY. It is time to repent of the times we may have been "CHURCHY" Christians ourselves [if we are truthful, we can admit that, at some point, we all have been], but through the help of the Word of God and the power of the Holy Spirit we can change it when it appears in our own lives. We can stop it in its tracks.

Have you experienced hurtful and disappointing CHURCHY CHURCHIANITY? How did you deal with it? Share your story in the comment section below.

Monday, October 15, 2018

How a Forgotten Movement Undermined Christianity

Book Review by Jocelyn Andersen
Do you ever wonder why you or someone you know may be disillusioned in the faith? Or why some Christians seem to be totally unprepared [and their distress so acute] when things happen that they cannot persuade themselves are positive or "good?"
L.L. Martin answers these and other questions in her excellent book, Positively Powerless.

I found this book to be so incredibly affirming, even as she exposed the unbiblical and occult roots of the Positive Thinking Movement. Martin provides data that explains how and why such a positive sounding movement actually sets adherents up for disappointment, failure, and distress.

All believers can benefit from reading, Positively Powerless. Every Pastor, Bible  Teacher, and Christian leader of any kind (even children's and teen leaders) will benefit personally and become even better leaders and influencers when they read and apply the wisdom and practical knowledge contained in this book.

It is a fascinating read, and I was  blown away by the depth and perception of Martin's insights.  I know it defeats the purpose of highlighting when every word is underscored or highlighted, but I could not stop. Every page of my copy is marred with color and notes. In my own writing, I will be quoting from this book for years to come.

Martin takes us through an eye-opening history of the Positive Thinking Movement and its effects on Christians today. Her penetrating and practical discernment will answer questions about "why"  Christians who embrace this movement often fail to achieve the results they are so positively convinced  will come.

She offers solutions, and the foundations of our faith are strengthened, as we learn to walk in the footsteps of our Savior.

Buying this book, is an investment in yourself, an investment in your personal and spiritual growth--and in those you may influence along the way--as you make this life's journey. 

 Laura Martin is Married to Bob since 1992. She is a follower of the Lord Jesus Christ. A saint and sinner. Avid reader. Lifelong learner. Currently a seminary graduate with a preaching/teaching ministry. Formerly a nurse. Companion to beloved cats, rabbit, and a Newfoundland dog. World wide traveler. Host of international students since 1997. Learn more  about L. L. Martin  HERE

Sunday, August 5, 2018

Under His Wings....

Contributed by Author Diane Yates
“Death, the great equalizer, takes us regardless of wealth, fame, or zip code.” --Johnnie Bernhard, How We Came to Be.

When we’re young, we believe we’re in control. We’re fearless and believe we can do great things. We make plans, advance our careers, but truth is, we didn’t birth ourselves and we’re not in control of how or when we die. 
   My niece recently found Jesus. To her, the Savior had been missing, but ever since her soul rested in Him, she would go to bed at night, roll over on her side and feel Him cover her with a wing of comfort and care.
  Last night, she went to bed and awaited the morning return of her love who’d made a night run from Arizona to California in his big-rig. She nestled into a deep peaceful sleep, and in her dreams, a pounding persisted, fists hitting glass; the glass of the window pane in her room. 
   In a fog, she rose to her feet. Placing one foot in front of the other, she shuffled into the living room. Red and blue lights flashed through the curtains. Dazed and with eyes half-closed, she cracked the door. There on the steps a highway patrolman; behind him, her beloved’s boss. Didn’t they know it was the middle of the night? 
   As the patrolman spoke, her eyes opened wide. Pain like a sword pierced her heart and her legs gave way.
   We have no control over when we draw our last breath. 
   When I was eleven, a friend of mine lost her mother, two sisters, and a brother when their car stalled on the railroad tracks as the train barreled toward them. “That Sunday morning, Amy’s family didn’t know their lives would soon be over. I realized you didn’t have to be old to die. You could be sixteen or twelve or even five.” --Diane Yates, All That Matters
   The only thing we have complete control of is a decision. Just as Jesus asked Peter, “who do you say I am?” Jesus asks us the same question. Who have you decided Jesus is? He said, “No man comes to the Father except by me.” 
   So, take control, and answer that question wisely.
   Psalm 91:4, He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

For more information about author and speaker, Diane Yates, visit her website at She is author of, Pathways of the Heart, and, All that Matters.

Thursday, July 5, 2018

Who Is Greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven?

   The 12 disciples had grandiose plans for themselves, and they were not at all bashful about pursuing them. Jesus put them all in their places, however, when they approached him, wanting to know who was the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven (I imagine they were hoping he would say--"why you twelve of course!").
   His answer was direct and to the point.
   He called a trusting little child to him, sat the child down in the midst of his disciples, and said, "if you want to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, you must become as this little child.
   Well, that should have set all priorities straight immediately. Here the disciples filled with their own self importance because of their intimacy with The Messiah, were told to stop worrying about who would be greatest in the Kingdom and get focused on simply making it into the Kingdom.
   Here we see those closest to Jesus being told, point blank, that they needed to be converted.
  How many of us need to be converted?
  How many of us need to become as little children?
 How many of us have grandiose plans that need to be trashed?