White Privilege - Am I Allowed To Be Angry At 'The Church'?

My lovely wife and I take part in a Zoom call every Wednesday night based on the book Be The Bridge. It's a small group and we're involved because my wife is friends with one of the people in the group. We're also involved because we're an interracial couple and the subject is race. 

The church leading this group is not the church we attend (or had been attending prior to the shutdown). If you've read any of my posts here, it may not surprise you to find that the shutdown provided me with the excuse I need to stop going. 

For 20 years or more, since we've been attending an 'evangelical' church, I've been griping about the infiltration of politics into the church. The American flag, the pledge of allegiance, patriotic songs, and displays that are specifically national in character DO NOT BELONG. This makes it an American institution.

I don't sing patriotic songs ('God bless America' really rankles me), refuse to place hand over heart for the pledge, and will remain silent if it smells of anything cultural. The only reason I don't remain sitting is to not draw attention to myself. In hindsight, perhaps I should have remained seated. Does this make me un-American? I can separate America from faith in Christ; I can demarcate the political from the spiritual; I can see clearly where the 'founders' of America draw the line between a 'Christian' country and their selection of those more universal tenets from the faiths in which they were raised that align with their Englightenment principles. 

So, un-American? That's silly.

In 2016, what I feared most happened. No longer undercover, the lid blew off. The 'evangelical' church revealed that it is an American church. I don't care if you say it isn't: for a large percentage of people, it is.

The wind that blew through after that first Sunday after the election in 2016 stung. We felt betrayed. This is not the church that Christ built; this is not why he hung on the cross; this is not evangelism. 

But we kept coming. One of the young pastors preached a message about what pro-life really means and the Spirit blew through the church that day. It was a great reset and it seemed that healing was going to take place. And it did. For a while.

But then George Floyd. And the 2020 elections.

I unplugged. Even when I showed up, I wasn't there.

And then COVID. We stopped going. And haven't been back. And I have no desire to return.

If you've followed along, you'll realize that the other part of this is that I believe I've stumbled onto the true Church. I'm not talking about the Orthodox Church. I'm talking about Orthodoxy. The more you discover orthodox, the more quickly you can ascertain what isn't orthodox and in this regard, much of today's church is unorthodox. If you've followed my blog, this is not a new revelation. This deep dive has given me the words, the concepts, and the depth to frame what I had been sensing.

So...

This group. It's one of two that we are participating in. The other is related to the book Caste. On the call this past week, I gave voice to my rage at 'the church.' One of the comments, in full support, was that even though I have white privilege, I am angry in relation to my 'black wife.' I really had to unpack that as I do believe that I have privileges others don't. This isn't an economic thing, it's an unconscious thing. By and large, in the circles in which I run, I don't have to think about these things. That is the privilege.

And she was right. But my rage is much larger than just my 'black wife.' I think, however, that because of her hurt, and my anger at the hurt the church caused her, it lit the match. Prior to this, it was hypothetical, intellectual, even spiritual, but it wasn't life-altering. I could really just take it or leave it. I'd go for her or for the grandkids (although I am suspicious of the indoctrination of seven-year-olds when it comes to reinforcing how sinful they are and how they need saving).

But when I heard her out and realized her pain, I became lit. And now I am bitter, jaded, and have zero desire to return. 

So we participate in these Zoom calls. Do we try that church? Do I suck it up and bring what we're learning to the church we had been attending? Do I chuck and go full Orthodox?

The dilemma remains. But these nutters operating under the guise of being pastors, or Christians, or whatever they call themselves, both saddens and infuriates me. 

Again, Christ died for this?

Sultans and Sneakers - The Spiritual Mutt Interview

About a year ago, a comment was dropped into one of my posts. Unfortunately, I didn't see it until around December. It was an inquiry into my blog and I was asked if I'd be interested in joining a video podcast to discuss my journey through Islam and where I'm at today.

I was first astonished that someone had actually read my posts with that level of interest. I think we start out blogging with the hopes that someone will relate, that we'll touch someone or that in some way we'll be validated. As time rolls on, most of us never realize this and our blogs get buried in the millions of other blogs out there.

So I was at once humbled and thrilled. Super cool guy, very knowledgeable, very gracious, and, like me, very inquisitive. He's a Muslim and his blog is called "Sneakers and Sultans" and features a wide away of interviews. He's also an Ohio guy with a background in manufacturing. 

I highly recommend the site.

For those interested, here's the interview with me: 

The Golden Calf Is Not A Metaphor

I used to think the story of The Golden Calf was just that, a story, more symbolic than real. But the events of the past several years have caused me to rethink this.

Yes, I know this is photoshopped. 

However, what is frightening is that it really does not seem that outside of the realm of reality. 

After all, Jim Bakker is peddling trinkets such as this:

Trump Cyrus Gold Coin

And though they've modernized, Lord knows that TBN has a strange fetish with tacky gold decor.

No matter how I try, I just can't escape the feeling that something is very, very wrong with all of this and that we've veered down a detour from which there is no turning back.

 

Life - The Journey, The Breakthrough, The Future

Peter Gabriel has released an update of his anthem 'Biko' through Playing For Change. It is, quite simply, stunning. It literally brought me to tears. 

I then proceeded down the rabbit hole of memories past. Peter Gabriel's music, specifically his fourth eponymous solo album, would send my musical interest in a completely different direction. The obligatory suburban diet of Top 40 and classic rock would rapidly fade and my interests in suburban 'culture' would fade just as quickly as I sought to break free. I didn't know where I was going but I sure knew where I didn't want to be.

I would be a huge fan through So. My musical interests would veer off into a completely different trajectory after that but there are so many memories wrapped up in his music from that period of time, I was transported instantly when I watched the documentary of the 'making of' of So. 

In listening to him reflect and to see him now, it became clear to me that our entire journey when younger is this search for meaning and for giving expression to it along the way. We don't know where we're going and the goal remains blurry, fuzzy, and unclear. Art gives voice to that search.

We become something of a vortex into which swirls all of our experiences, our pursuits, our loves, our foibles, and our strivings. At some point, we reach the apex of this pursuit and we pause and reflect. Often, we become comfortable. For some, that is the goal. For some, that leads to bewilderment because we aren't sure what's next. 

The Matrix has become something of a metaphor, a modern 'Bible' to give expression to such things in our journey. Our youth is represented by Neo and Trinity's journey through the sentinels, ascending ever higher toward bursting through the clouds. What lies beyond that remains a vision and a hope. All we know is that we need to shake this darkness, that there is something out there in the great beyond.

And then there is that moment of bliss where we have that breakthrough.

And this look on Trinity's face says it all. 

I've had several of these moments. Peter Gabriel's fourth album was one of them. The opening of "The Rhythm Of The Heat" changed my life in an instant. I was intoxicated. Even today, it never ceases to move me.

 

There have been several that have left me spellbound but, quite honestly, the majority of the journey isn't the instant awareness but the gradual unfolding of the journey punctuated by those pivotal moments. 

The challenge is that once we've burst through the clouds, leaving all the sentinels behind us, and we see the sun that we do not get comfortable and cease striving.  

Regrets, Moving On

Had an interesting experience this morning, one I was quite unprepared for and thus worthy of jotting down. 

At work this Saturday morning (there's a long story about that adventure), one of the radios in the shop was playing a 'classic rock' song from Mötley Crüe (when did Mötley Crüe become classic rock?).

My pangs of regret were several. About 20 years ago when ebay was fresh, I sold all of my concert tickets of my youth. The tour from the album this song was featured on was one of them. It's bothered me for years. There is something about a tangible reminder rather than a shared story that is more impactful. You might say it is bragging rights and, realistically, that's probably what it is as I don't listen to them anymore. 

Their songs take me back to that time, though a glossed-over version as that time was filled with a lot of pain, anger, and angst which is why I was drawn to this music in the first place. In fact, there is little of the music I listened to then and for which I had concert tickets that I listen to now. It's all memory machines.

But memory is powerful. We gloss over the bad, create some idealized version of what it was like, and pine for those days when we struggle in the present which is what initially hit me when I heard the song this morning.  I can't recall the last time I heard the song and it isn't something I'd take time out to find to listen to at all.

But as I walked along with those reminisces floating around, something else happened. I realized that it was a trap and was not somewhere I wanted to remain. I felt a peace come over me as I realized that what I am truly longing for is something to move me forward, something to sustain me unfettered from the cares of the 'world,' something that we often refer to as 'eternal.' And I realized that this is, in fact, my true longing, my deepest pursuit, that never-ending quest for truth.

And I have it. I have access to it. I have found it and it carries me on deeper into the mystery. Which is what circles me back to Orthodoxy. I have learned to live in the mystery, something I was never able to fully embrace in my previous church experiences. 

Father Patrick Henry Reardon encapsulated this well for me in one of his lectures: 

"[In] the Orthodox Church we never  try to explain the mystery...We try  to keep the lines on the road to keep  you from going in the ditch on one side or you keep it from going into oncoming  traffic on the other side...

The  function of dogmatic theology is to keep the church in the middle of the road. It is never in the  Orthodox Church to explain a doctrine. Never."  

 

And it gave me pause. I appreciate where I've been as if it were not for that I wouldn't be where I am, but it gave me full awareness for my true passion, and the pangs of regret faded. Rather than music such as this giving expression to what is inside of me, I am learning a new language that is giving me a much true expression of not only where I've been but where I'm going.

There is only forward and the path I have been traveling is exactly the path I'm supposed to be traveling and I am excited about where it is leading.

The Journey Continues - Augustine, Confessions

I've decided to, after multiple attempts, read through Augustine's Confessions (and, likely, City of God). My entire reading library is now 'Orthodox' or 'Catholic' in nature. In fact, the more I listen to modern preaching and teaching, the more I gravitate back toward these writings.

Modern preaching simply does not hold my interest or, it may be said, it doesn't 'thrill' me like it used to. This leads me to believe that by and large I was always looking for the 'wow' factor and as this faded I grew bored and in search of the next buzz.

What I find now is that I'm looking for a faith in which to settle into and it is this I find in these writings. It feels like home. It isn't absent the 'wow' factor but when it happens it isn't an emotional thing as much as it is a deepening of peace. As the early Fathers like to say, it is as if my soul has opened prodigiously at the faintest of light shining into it. My soul expands, it is not titillated or otherwise charged. It leads, as the Fathers, also like to say, to reverent silence.

It is this silence that charges me and once there nothing can replace it. My longing is for that place of silence where I find Him and only Him.