Some dude calling himself B.G. left a brilliant comment on one of my sex in heaven posts:

Hehe you fools, this kind of thinking will get you a free ticket to Hell. Heaven is NOT about you being happy - it is about you making GOD HAPPY BY SELFLESSLY SERVING HIM IN ALL YOUR THOUGHTS AND DEEDS (which will make you happy in turn.) Heaven is NOT for your pleasure; IT IS FOR GOD’S PLEASURE, NO IFS ANDS OR BUTS. Comprende, people? Sex in heaven? No way Jose! That would be SEEKING PLEASURE FOR YOURSELF, rather than focusing on your SOLE FUNCTION in heaven - namely, praising God! (As would eating, drinking, dancing, skiing or what have you.) And since we have nothing to offer God except for our adoration and worship - well, I don’t how my “human” body, complete with chest hair, buttocks and a penis flopping around would would enable me to do that. Those things were meant for EARTHLY purposes only (since I won’t be urinating or fathering children in Heaven, what point would there be in having genitalia?) I’m sure we’ll have eyes (to see God) and a mouth (to sing praises to God) but other than that, what kind of body would we require? Not much, I say!

Oh, I clap my hands at the chance to take THIS apart! Let’s do it, shall we, pippa?

Hehe you fools,

Always an endearing way to start on a stranger’s blog.

…. this kind of thinking will get you a free ticket to Hell.

Uhm, why, precious? Imagining what heaven might be like is no bueno? God’s making the ultimate gift for us and we can’t imagine what it is? Have you never wondered about the presents under the Christmas tree?

Heaven is NOT about you being happy - it is about you making GOD HAPPY BY SELFLESSLY SERVING HIM IN ALL YOUR THOUGHTS AND DEEDS (which will make you happy in turn.) Heaven is NOT for your pleasure;

So heaven is a bummer? “Now abide these three: faith, hope, love; but the greatest of these is LOVE.” Kinda think heaven’s about love — in ALL its created forms.

IT IS FOR GOD’S PLEASURE, NO IFS ANDS OR BUTS.

Hm. Doesn’t God already have pleasure? Isn’t he, by definition, basically self-sustaining? I mean, didn’t he enjoy himself before he ever made people? The ol’ Bible talks about him preparing a place for US. I see a God who is busily creating the most glorious surprise party the universe has ever known — and, yes, he’s doing it for US, so how is heaven not about our enjoyment? Your heaven sounds like a drag, dude.

Comprende, people?

Wow. Nothing more distasteful to me than someone who KNOWS he’s right and needs to insult people from his position of perceived rightness.

Sex in heaven? No way Jose! That would be SEEKING PLEASURE FOR YOURSELF, rather than focusing on your SOLE FUNCTION in heaven - namely, praising God! (As would eating, drinking, dancing, skiing or what have you.)

So we can’t praise God with our bodies — by having sex, freed from the earthly confines, definitions, and corruptions of it? Sex is spiritual as well as physical, a pale earthly symbol of God’s love for his people. Imagine — which I actually think is your problem here — how that might be transformed in heaven. And what? No eating, drinking? DUDE, there’s gonna be a big fat wedding feast some day. Have you even read the Bible? What does “feast” imply? I mean, if you don’t want to eat the food in heaven, I don’t suppose God will make you. If you want to sit in a heavenly pew singing praise choruses FOREVER, have at it. Personally, I believe that everything we do in heaven — eating, drinking, dancing, skiing, having sex — will be part of how we worship God. We will worship him with everything we do. But if you don’t wanna do anything …. uhm, stay away from me, ‘kay?

And since we have nothing to offer God except for our adoration and worship - well, I don’t how my “human” body, complete with chest hair, buttocks and a penis flopping around would would enable me to do that.

Well, peaches, how does your human body with chest hair, buttocks, and a floppy penis enable you to worship God NOW? I mean, you do that, right? Is the floppy penis a real millstone that keeps you from worshiping? “Sure wish I could PTL right now! Damn this floppy penis anyway!” That is laughable to me.

Those things were meant for EARTHLY purposes only (since I won’t be urinating or fathering children in Heaven, what point would there be in having genitalia?)

Uhm, because you were MADE with genitalia? As a MAN? Sounds like you are literally jumping up and down at the chance — ohpleaseohplease — to be an eternal Ken doll. However, he made you a man and, I’m sorry, again, read the Bible, you WILL have a BODY. Although maybe he won’t force you if you really don’t want one. But do you actually think you pass through the gates of heaven and surrender your penis? Is that what you think? Is that what you WANT? I can’t imagine that any man in his right mind would not feel mutilated if that’s what happens. And, personally, I don’t believe heaven is a place of mutilation or loss. Sounds like you do, though. I believe it’s a place of perfection, redemption, making all things new.

I’m sure we’ll have eyes (to see God) and a mouth (to sing praises to God) but other than that, what kind of body would we require? Not much, I say!

Ew. So you are nothing but eyes and mouth? Not only is that just flat-out wrong — if you care about biblical accuracy — but it sounds like a horror movie to me. Seriously. That’s NOT how God created you. He created men and women with bodies. He created SEX. He doesn’t just rip up what he creates. Again, he makes it NEW. Your heaven is a hell to me, dude. I want to enjoy heaven. Sounds like you don’t. You seem to have some issues with sex, contempt for your floppy penis, and an utter lack of imagination.

Good luck, dude.

And, again, seriously stay away from me up there with your open mouth and floaty eyes.

My fake foray into Facebook continues apace.

On a related note: I hate myself for it. I do. You probably hate me for it too, just don’t say so to me, ‘mkay? I think there’s something vaguely despicable about it, although I’m undecided if it crosses over into completely despicable territory. Deciding between “vaguely despicable” and “completely despicable” is not high on my To Do list right now.

So I have this vaguely despicable fake identity on FB. All I did was sign up. I’ve done nothing to “my” FB page. Without checking, I don’t even what my FB name IS. I know I’ve changed it several times, as if I’m trying to hit on just the right name for a character in a novel. Insanity cannot ever be ruled out with me is what I’m really saying here.

But can I just say this? Consarnit all with the precious Christians on FaceBook! (So I’m Jed Clampett. Whatevs.) I talked about this in a related post here, but I’m now discovering a plethora of Christians –many of whom I know — who do nothing but quote scripture and speak in platitudes on their FB pages, AND IT BUGS ME. I assume these people really want to “touch other people” or something and that’s why they do it. They want to “make a difference” in the lives of others. They’d never talk to a known gay person or drink a beer — God forbid! — but they’d mechanically quote verses on their FB pages in hopes of earning extra Jesus points. They think that people are moved, deeply moved, by the fact that they just “liked” some FB page called “Mommy’s (sic) for Jesus Christ.” (I swear, I’m going to join this damn group just to correct their grammar and spelling. Honestly, mommy’s.)

I’ve seen Christians on FB warn each other: “Don’t drink, just spend time with Jesus!”

And “exhort” each other: “This week’s gonna be a bummer.” “Oh, well, ‘consider it all joy,’ you know.”

And scold each other: “Uh, LANGUAGE ALERT!”

Uhm, precious? Shut up. Seriously. Do you talk this way to one another in person? Do you? I’m all for knowing scripture. I know scripture, but I avoid prancing around in my real life spouting it in people’s faces. Mainly because I’m too busy prancing around naked. Just seeing if you’re listening. Look. I am not the vicar. Or the vicar’s wife. So I keep my vicary thoughts to myself. Or use them as sex talk. You’re listening, right? And, Crackie, if you don’t spout scripture in person, why are you doing so on FB? And if you are an inspirational coffee mug in person? Well, that explains your presence on FB, I guess. It’s the only place that will have you. It’s funny. I find that MB and I don’t generally quote scripture or talk in bumper stickers to each other in our daily life.

How would that play out anyway?

HE: Babe, I had a horrible day.

ME: Bummer. Well, ‘delight yourself in the Lord,’ peaches.

*****

ME: I look hideous.

HE: Yeah, well, ‘Jesus wept,” you know.

*****

HE: I’m really worried about X.

ME: Yeah, hon? Remember ‘life is fragile, handle with prayer,’ ‘mkay?

KAPOW, KAPOW, KAPOW!

All right, Facebook Christian. Enough already with being an amateur preacher or a walking bumper sticker. Be a real person. Say real things. Say honest things. Say faith is hard because it is. Say faith takes courage because it does. Say sometimes you’re just disappointed with God. Say sometimes he pisses you off. Say sometimes you don’t understand anything anymore. Say sometimes you wonder if it’s worth it. Say sometimes you want to chuck it all and walk away. Because as far as I’m concerned, if you’ve never come to those places in your faith, you haven’t thought that much about your faith. You haven’t really turned it over and over and over in your mind. You haven’t thought about deep things; you think only what you are told to think. You haven’t really held your faith to the fire for fear that it will burn to ash. Bottom line, you really don’t have much faith in your Faith. So you live on autopilot and quote what you’ve learned but never considered and tell people about rules but not about grace and you share a scripture but don’t know its context and you’re fake fake fake.

Enough.

Sometimes, it really pains me to realize that I am on Team Christian and that Christians are the Chargers. The Padres! The Seahawks! The Lions!

Don’t believe me? Here are some actual recent FB postings from the people on my team. MY team!

“The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the LORD turn his face toward you and give you peace.” Numbers 6:24-26

Okay. Uh, great. Thanks. Do you have anything else to say?

I am so thankful for the love of God. I’m excited to worship with my brothers and sisters tomorrow.

Well, mazeltov. You obviously didn’t go to Not On Your Life Church.

Here’s a thought: “Honor one another above yourselves.” Romans 12:10

Here’s a thought: Have an original thought.

You know, I’m starting to wonder if I’m too much of a crankypants to be a Christian. Does Jesus love the crankypants among us? Maybe I just don’t have the proper team spirit. Maybe I need to get on board here. Be more of a bumper sticker. Be more Quotey McBiblepants. I hate being the outsider. Just jump on the Precious Moments Bandwagon, Trace. I mean, I want to touch people’s lives. I want to make a difference. I want to be inspirational.

So, okay. Here’s my verse to touch your heart today:

But Onan knew that the offspring would not be his; so whenever he lay with his brother’s wife, he spilled his semen on the ground to keep from producing offspring for his brother. Genesis 38:9

Have a shiny Jesus face day, pippa.

The whole psychology of the apology is interesting to me. Why people do it, why they don’t (duh), HOW people do it, how they mess it up, how to do it right. I’ve talked about this a lot on the blog in the past. I tend to think the apology as a social convention and spiritual necessity is on its way out. People generally think they’re right at all times. I understand that. I generally think I’m right at all times. And because we generally think we’re right at all times, we don’t want to apologize because that would mean we’re actually admitting we’re wrong and then what oh what will happen to our view of ourselves that we are generally right at all times? It messes with our head. But the extent to which it messes with our heads is tied, I think, to just how much our sense of self is invested in believing we are right at all times. The greater we’re defined by our own “rightness,” the more likely we are to feel diminished by an apology and, therefore, the less likely we are to actually apologize. Or the more likely we are to offer a non-apology apology which gives the illusion of hitting the mark but is really a psychological sleight of hand.

I’m about to copy and paste my own final comment in the now-infamous “Kevin” thread, which makes me look both needy and self-important and, well, I have to plead mea culpa on that. Whatevs. But I want to talk about an “apology” he gave at one point in that …. discussion? diatribe? harangue? Whatever that whole dealio actually was. I may look like I’m throwing him under the bus, but Kevin basically threw himself under the bus with no assist from me or anyone else. I’ve banned him now — if it actually worked, since I think he’s at least occasionally using an anonymous proxy to surf the Net — and he won’t be commenting here again, so I think it’s safe to discuss this as a case study, so to speak. I made the choice to ban him because I don’t want to have the kind of blog I think Kevin WANTS me to have. I don’t want to come on my blog and argue in the round every stinkin’ day. That’s just not who I am. Some people like that, are even energized by it. Not me. I just get dizzy and nauseous after a while.

Here’s what I said in my last comment on that thread. (Oh, and sarahk weighed in with a great comment at the very end.)

You know ….. another thing that’s stuck in my craw over this is what I call Kevin’s non-apology apology. (I’ve talked about the non-apology apology before on the blog.)

Way up in comment #29, Kevin said:

/Tracey, I’m sorry if my comment came across as condescending./

See that? The dropping of the “if” bomb in that “apology”? No. That’s not an actual apology. An apology is taking sincere, honest ownership of what you said or did and not qualifying it IN ANY WAY. The ever-popular “IF” Bomb apology is a way to sound as if you’re apologizing when you’re really not. That one little word — if — does a huge thing: creates a sliver of possibility that, no, the offender DIDN’T really do or say the thing that you’re offended about. And, yes, it’s a sliver of qualification, but that’s HUGE in an apology. A person who does that isn’t taking ownership. He’s saying, subtly, “It’s YOUR problem that you perceived it that way.” He’s saying, “Maybe I did that, but MAYBE I DIDN’T.” It’s not a true humble apology. It’s BS and I call it.

Kevin had numerous people calling him on his condescension and contemptuous tone. He offered his If Bomb, his non-apology apology, and THEN CONTINUED TO BE CONDESCENDING AND CONTEMPTUOUS while all the while claiming moral superiority to the rest of us. “I’ve kept my cool.” “I haven’t returned insults.” Or whatever. Well, yes, he did, as I’ve already said earlier in this thread.

But if a person apologizes and is genuinely sorry, he turns away from the behavior that created the offense in the first place. What Kevin did would be like a husband who apologizes to his wife for being drunk on Wednesday night — while he’s drunk on Thursday night. In dropping that If Bomb, though, he gave himself permission to continue his bad behavior because maybe it’s a perception problem of, oh, a half a dozen people or more. Maybe it’s THEIR problem, not his. If If IF.

Gimme a break. That’s meaningless. A gloss-over. A knee-jerk thing to say that you really don’t mean. And it’s definitely NOT an apology.

So clearly, I was ramped up or on the sauce again or, most likely, both.

This is not a unique example. We’ve all received and/or offered these kinds of apologies ourselves. I mention it as an example of a common practice, not to point out Kevin as a unique offender. He’s not.

Sometimes that “if” will placate the offended or wronged person; sometimes, it won’t, but it’s definitely a useful — and cowardly — tool to make it look as if you’re humble and sorry, as if you rillyrilly care. At the core, it’s a deflection, a way to boomerang the whole issue back into the face of the offended, leaving them wondering, “Hm. Did I overreact?”

I don’t write about this thinking that I’ve got the whole apology thing nailed down because I don’t. It’s HARD to apologize. It is. I guess at this point in my life, for the sake of personal and spiritual growth, actually, I force myself to look at criticisms I receive and ask if there’s any truth in them, anything I need to own, no matter from whom they come (Doc, anyone?) and no matter how they’re phrased. And, yamahaha, Crackie, is it painful. It IS. Since I’m generally sure I’m right, I’m always feel as if I’m going to DIE when I sit down with a criticism and force myself to consider it. At that moment, I’m certain just the act of entertaining these less than pro-me thoughts will shrivel my pro-me brain into a useless tiny raisin rolling around in my head, killing me as swiftly as touching a live wire. Basically, it sucks. If I look at it as something I’m doing for me, though, something to keep me from becoming hard and calcified and bitter, then it hurts a tiny bit less. A very tiny bit less. When it’s an issue regarding a loved one, I try to ask myself, “Do I want a relationship or do I want to be right?” If I present it to myself that way — because, yes, I have to sneak up on myself — it’s an easy choice. A tiny bit easier choice.

Apologizing — really doing it — keeps us in touch with our own humanity. Our own frailties. That we can and do screw up. It acknowledges, too, the humanity of the person we’ve wronged or offended. Done wholeheartedly, it’s a weird but wonderful way to bind us together in the messiness of the human stew. Both parties find relief in the transaction when it’s sincerely given and sincerely received; both parties are “seen.”

I don’t want to become numb to my own humanity. I don’t want to become numb to the humanity of others. If I can’t apologize or equivocate when and if I even do apologize, I’m already becoming that drone, emotionally numb and spiritually calloused, too captivated by my rightness to give a tiny rat’s bottom about anyone else.

And I don’t want to live my life gazing at the reflection of my own perceived rightness.

Because … how lonely is that?

MB and I have some acquaintances from a previous church who are “missionaries.”

And, yes, I hate to say this — and I’m totally hiding from God as I do so — but I call them “missionaries” as opposed to missionaries.

Here’s why:

This couple was sent off from the church with great fanfare and hoopla. They were moving to southeast Asia to start an orphanage, you see, and isn’t that a noble idea and all that. The wife’s family comes from this particular country and she inherited some land in said country. For their orphanage, right?

Howevah …… and here’s where it gets squinky for me and I don’t know why I’m throwing all Christians under the bus lately, but, well, I’m a crankypants.

The squink is this:

They didn’t start an orphanage. They’ve lived in this country for 4 or 5 years now. They’ve had 2 children while living over there. It’s cheapcheapcheap to live in this particular country, but, then again, the church supports them, so it’s even cheaper! Somehow, once they’d been “in country” for a while, the Lord conveniently “changed” their vision. They weren’t supposed to use their land to build an orphanage. No. They used the land to build themselves a HUGE house instead.

Now to be fair, they do take in foster children from this country. At one time, I believe they had as many as 6 kids total living in their home. The husband is an aspiring novelist and works on his books most of the day. I mean, he doesn’t work outside the home in this country. The wife homeschools the kids.

I guess I don’t understand HOW this is missions. I don’t get it.

Plenty of people in the US take in foster children and, yes, they get a small stipend or whatever from the state, but this couple is having their entire lifestyle subsidized by the church. I’ve known people who’ve taken in foster kids here in the US, and in every case, at least one of the parents worked outside the home. My own parents took in a foster child when I was 6 and my foster sister was 16, and at that time, BOTH of my parents worked outside the home. They were earning their own money. Now I’m sure there are people who take in a bunch of foster kids just to get the money from the state, but I don’t imagine the people who do this are calling it “missions” either.

Someone help me. How is this “missions”?

Is there something I’m not seeing?

To me, the idea of missions is an outwardly focused thing. An evangelism thing. Sure, this couple is teaching their kids about Jesus, but so is my sister. So is my brother. So are dear readers Brian and Kathi. So is any Christian family — one assumes — anywhere in the world. And they’re NOT being subsidized. My brother and sister have real world jobs where they earn real world money to support their children. They don’t sit back and receive tithe money from their churches so they can work on their Great American Novel. Or their Great Southeast Asian Novel.

I mean, to be honest, since we’ve witnessed all this going down with this couple (they have a blog we follow), MB and I have seriously discussed going BACK to this whackadoo church and saying we want to be missionaries. Ohpleaseohplease, let us be missionaries. Because it kind of seems like a sweet gig, doesn’t it? Being paid for what the rest of us work for? Church welfare in a beautiful country overseas?

Look, these are tough times. I mean, I’m in school right now to completely change careers. But maybe I can chuck all that, move to a cool country, call myself a “missionary,” and get on the church dole.

Come on, pippa! Let’s be “missionaries” and start our Sudden Yurt commune overseas!

Who’s with me?

(I had to rename this post. It was called “10 million,” but for some reason, it read as “10 millior” and, well, it drove me nuts. I now have an n problem. I got me enough problems; I don’t NEED an n problem too, pippa.)

A while back, a friend who’s on Facebook (uhm, all my friends are on Facebook, apparently) emailed me about some “Christian” page on Facebook that I should join — you know, when I join Facebook. (Hahaha and all that.)

But I was SO annoyed with her description of this page, I created a FAKE Facebook identity just so I could get a gander at the stupid thing. Yup. (And, no, I will not be starting a page. I created a name and that was it.)

So this “Christian” page: It’s called “We CAN find 10,000,000 Christians on Facebook.” Here’s its stated purpose:

The purpose of this group is for Christians to take a stand in their beliefs and be counted. our goal is 10 million. It is a big goal, but I believe it can be done! Thank you for joining and please invite your friends!

Okay. So you go there. You join. And somehow you’re standing up for Jesus? Being counted? (Well, I believe you’re being counted, but maybe not in the way you’re hoping, silly Christians.)

Give me a break. The whole thing strikes me as totally ridiculous. So you find 10,000,000 Christians on Facebook. So what? Who cares? To what end or purpose?? So Christians can stand around and go “YAY! There are 10,000,000 Christians on Facebook!!”?? That’s just retarded. What do the people who’ve joined this page think will happen if they reach that 10M goal? The rapture? The second coming? People around the world saying, “AHHHHH!! There are 10M Christians on Facebook, I am now convinced me that I’d better accept Jesus as my savior immediately!”?? And what will the people who’ve joined this page DO when and if they hit that mark? Send “Christian hearts” to one another’s Facebook page? Have a cyber party with cyber cake in “Cafe World”? (Yes, I do know some things about Facebook.) Seems to me like the moment the page clicks over to 10M will be more anticlimactic than a New Year’s countdown. I mean, at least that involves the entire world. And at least people get kissed.

Come ON. It’s a pointless endeavor. Sorry, Christians, but it bugs me. You’re making me and any other basically sane and intelligent Christians look bad. Please stop. This is what’s becoming so irritating to me. Either the collective Christian IQ is plummeting precipitously or else I’ve just been exposed to a spate of real dummypants lately.

Look. I’m sure there are more than 10,000,000 Christians on Facebook worldwide, so why is this important? Why is this something worth doing? Just listing yourself as a Christian on Facebook makes Jesus all proud and tingly? No. He’s going, “Quit wasting your time with that crap. And leave me out of it, kthx.” IF you asked each Christian who came onto your page to give a dollar to World Vision or Feed the Children or something, THEN you might be doing something worth doing. But you’re basically saying , “Hey, Christians. Come over here and sign Jesus’ yearbook.”

Well, he doesn’t need me to.

So I don’t wanna.

And you can’t make me.

Nyaah.

One Sunday, quite a while after our last official Sunday at Maybe Church, we drove up there again, on a whim. I don’t know why, really, other than some vague rewriting impulse on my part.

I sometimes believe I can rewrite unhappy endings in my life.

Maybe we’d go inside. Maybe things would be different. Maybe we’d finally have a conversation. Maybe people would say they were sorry for things that mattered, not things that didn’t.

Maybe the way it all ended wouldn’t stay the way it all ended.

Maybe.

But probably not.

You see, there’s hope and there’s reality and the two are not always synonymous and sometimes you cannot explain why you continue to have hope.

When a situation ends badly, I have a mystifying ability to continue believing that something redemptive will still happen, oh yes it will it will it will. This goes on for longer than it should and longer than I’d ever admit. (Psychologists call this “denial,” Trace.) Basically, I prance about in my own little Happy Hopeyland for a good long while, clinging to the belief that redemption will triumph over pain. That healing will triumph over woundedness. This doesn’t always happen when humans are involved. Actually, I’ve rarely seen it happen when just humans are involved.

Hope in people, I suppose, is never the best idea.

Following vague impulses to rewrite endings is also, let’s face it, never the best idea.

But there’s what you know and what you do and those two are hardly ever synonymous.

So, of course, we drove up to the church.

We pulled into the shady side of the parking lot, all hopped up on caffeine and ambiguity. Once MB turned off the car, however, we froze in our seats and just stared at the entrance.

Uh, what are we doing? Oh, that’s right, we have NO plan. So, yeah, what are we doing, again?

MB does these things for me. Hopes with me for a different outcome. Thumbs his hopeful nose with me in the face of stubborn reality. He frequently sees with great foresight how things will turn out even when I do not see — or, really, will not see — but at times he will lay aside this knowledge, temporarily, and go there with me. Out of solidarity. And love. And the weird thrill of a who-knows-what-will-happen caper.

This, alas, is his life with Tracey.

So, yeah, we had no plan. Just a couple of Sunday morning goobers sitting in a car in a church parking lot, wondering what to do, imagining something might change if we just showed up, as if our mere presence would alter reality. Well, I’m pretty sure just one of us imagined that.

But there we sat like lumps, MB voluntarily entering my personal Happy Hopeyland without so much as a sigh. Turns out, this is what goes down in Happy Hopeyland when you’re a couple of Sunday morning goobers sitting in a car in a church parking lot hoping for a rewrite: Fidgeting. Debating options. Drawing straws for who feels more ridiculous.

We watched the men in the perpetual orange vests with the perpetual orange flags wave people into their pre-ordained parking spots. Still doing that, I see. Predestination at work in the very act of parking. No free will here. If you choose that lot, you are choosing to have your choice made for you. We chose that lot just once and never again. The men wave their flags even when no car is approaching, which I find silly. Actually, the whole practice seems vaguely anti-American, anti-freedom to me, but others, parking fascists perhaps, are clearly fine with it. Whatevs.

A car pulled up, perpendicular to ours. After a few moments a man, a woman, and a teenage boy got out and walked past us, still in our car, spinning our mental wheels in Happy Hopeyland. As they passed, the man turned around to look at us. He leaned in to say something to the woman and she turned around too. Finally, the boy pivoted and threw a furrowed look at us. The woman strolled over to the nearest orange-vested man, in her appropriately modest and unflattering skirt, and spoke to him. Then he, too, joined in the sudden alarming fad of looking at us.

MB muttered.

“What is going on?”

“I don’t know.”

As we watched the man and boy walking to the entrance, turning this way and that, trying to look casual while they stared us down, simple curiosity trumped indecision and we were now glued to our seats for a whole new reason. Apparently, we’d been spotted as oh, no! people sitting in the parking lot, ohnoohnoohnooo!!

Several moments passed while we debated what to do now, after seeing that. We suddenly felt like trespassers. It was 20 minutes into the service. People were still arriving, milling about, not going inside. This church, I’d observed before, does not arrive when church actually starts. They really should hold the service in the parking lot or the lobby, where most people seem to be.

While we talked, an orange-vested man, the one previously alerted to our presence, approached our car. Hm. Here we go. I guess he really had been alerted.

He went around to MB’s side, where window was down, leaned in and peered down at us, like a cop. An unsmiling cop. I actually fought a reflex to grab the registration from the glovebox.

“Can I help you?”

“No, not really,” said MB.

“Are you just looking for a shady place to park?”

“No. We’re debating whether or not to go in.”

Well, not quite. We definitely weren’t going in now. I think Oprah got a friendlier greeting on that Mormon compound a few years ago.

“Oh.” He looked us over.

Uhm, do they give tickets here? I wondered.

“Well, let me know if I can help you,” he said, in a dismissive tone.

He seemed like a salesperson who will greet you but then sigh mightily if he actually has to help you. Or a cop.

“Uh-huh,” said MB.

The man walked away. We sat open-mouthed at the weirdness, the paranoia. Once all the orange vests had disappeared, we raced home on wheels of creepiness, and wondered aloud:

Is this how they welcome people now? Coming over to a car and questioning them? If we weren’t supposed to park there, why not just tell us? He said nothing about it, so it clearly wasn’t that.

It was either: We were unfamiliar and just sitting there and that totally FREAKED THEM OUT or we were familiar and just sitting there and that totally FREAKED THEM OUT.

Either way, calm down, peaches.

So did they know who we were? That bosomy tart with the slanderous blog and her crankypants letter-writing husband? That would surprise me a bit on one hand because we didn’t know anyone while we were there, really, and we didn’t recognize any of these people, either, but it wouldn’t surprise me a bit on the other hand because there are no personal boundaries whatsoever at this church and everyone seems to know everyone’s business which is somehow, amazingly, NOT labeled as gossip, but this blog, however, IS.

So if they knew who we were — again, creepy — are we officially unwelcome at this church now?

Who knows?

It was bizarre.

All I know is that the smell of paranoia is completely incompatible with Happy Hopeyland.

One of my favorite spiritual bloggers, Michael Spencer aka The Internet Monk, is terminally ill with brain cancer. He was just diagnosed in December and now it’s just a matter of time. He’s discontinued chemo, which wasn’t helping anyway, and is seeking hospice help.

I’m just numb. So sad. I’m feeling a bit adrift, thinking he’s leaving us.

I’ve read him regularly over the years and he is real and smart and funny and challenging. He isn’t some rigid legalist — he’s too free. He isn’t some nutso Charismatic — he’s too solid. He isn’t some blind follower — he’s too smart. He’s never been bound by how MEN think the Christian life should be lived but focused on Jesus, on truth, and has helped me — oh, how much he helped me and will never know! — to do the same.

I’m missing his “voice” already.

Prayers for him and his family.

More from Dude.

This is after MB and others gave him a polite and much-needed smackdown for the comment referenced in the post below and he’s having a change-ish of heart. He’s directing this at MB, after MB explained to him that “dumb” could mean “stupid” or “mute.” (Italics mine.):

As I was telling (another commenter), I was meaning dumb sheep as in their intelligence.  I once heard that they would follow each other off of a cliff and die just because they were following the one in front of them.  (Okay. This is an apt analogy of a FOCer. I’m with you.) I didn’t mean stupid or mute.  (Oh. Just suicidal then. I see.) I guess you interpreted my tone in a way I didn’t intend to be interpreted.  That’s always been the problem with written text; tone and influx of voice for emphasis doesn’t exist.  Even primitive written languages have that.  It stinks.  Did we ever meet?  I don’t remember a lot of last names.  (Yes, because, naturally, MB was using his real name. See how it works? Of course, everyone uses their REAL NAMES on the Internets! Sheesh. Jesus himself would use a screen name just so wouldn’t bug him, Dude.) Did I ever sin against you at the SD church?  If I did, please forgive me.

Brothers and Sisters, I never intended this to go this way.  I was hoping for some good iron sharpening iron.  I came across in a rude, boasting, arrogant way.  Please forgive me.  As for my questions and comments, that aren’t offensive, please help me?  Thank you so much!

So, okay. A teensie change.

But, then, Dude weighed in randomly, off-topic, just a month later:

When will you all come around? (FOC) ROCKS!! You have read and laughed at my story (eh???) but you know that I am in seminary and lead worship at FOC SD Church. I pastored in Calvary Chapel before. I’m young but I’ve been around. Get over your bitter selves and be reconciled with your brothers and sisters in the churches you left. I know you would be received with love and open arms! Let me say it again (FOC) ROCKS. We have planted 3 new churches in California and Arizona in just a year! Come back!!

I’m still unclear, Dude, and I wish you would just answer the question: Are you or are you NOT in leadership?

Strange how his earlier apology — a month before — seemed to have worn off, like Novacaine. I get it, Dude. Saying you’re sorry can feel like a root canal.

My response to Dude:

You know, I’m happy FOC is so great for (Dude), but honestly, coming in here and speaking that way is like trying to sell the awesomeness of peanuts to a roomful of people with deadly peanut allergies. Look, we tried peanuts and they nearly killed us. You peanut lovers, eat away, but you need to be OKAY with those of us who choose not to partake because it proved detrimental to our health.

(Dude), let’s imagine a scenario for a minute. Let’s imagine, oh, your best friend’s wife cheated on him and he found out. Let’s imagine he’s utterly devastated. Let’s imagine HE — the injured party — tries and tries to work it out with her, all to no avail. Then let’s imagine because of his pain, because of his wife’s unrepentance and unwillingness to work it out, he feels he must leave his wife. Would you, in the face of your friend’s horrible grief and betrayal, dare to say to him, “But SHE ROCKS! SHE IS AN AWESOME WIFE!! When are you going to come around to that? Just get over your bitter self and go back! She will welcome you with open arms!!”

(She won’t admit anything wrong or she’ll throw it back on you ….. but “GO BACK! SHE IS AWESOME!!!”)

That’s essentially what you’re doing to those of us here who’ve been really hurt or abused or wronged or betrayed by FOC. It’s not a perfect analogy, I know. You’re that guy callously demanding that your broken friend go back to the unrepentant spouse. You’re that guy expecting your human hurting friend to just GET OVER — on your timeline — some massive spiritual and emotional damage.

Processing things of this nature takes TIME, (Dude). I am not Jesus. I am human. I need the GRACE of time. I need the GRACE to have a human reaction. Do I need to forgive? Yes. Forgiving can hard enough when someone asks us for forgiveness, but when it’s not asked for, not even sought, that doubles my load of forgiveness. I must forgive what was done and THEN forgive that there’s total unrepentance about what was done. Can you understand that, (Dude)?

I truly hope you’re never injured by a church in a similar way. I also hope no one whose “soul you end up shepherding” is ever hurt BY you — not until you learn, really learn, to develop the compassionate heart of Jesus. I don’t know if they teach that in seminary. You may have to ask the Holy Spirit to give you some. And, in my experience, whenever I’ve asked the Holy Spirit for more of this quality or that quality — it’s funny. He puts me in situations where I need to exercise that quality but can only do so with HIS help. Maybe you’re continuing to read here because the Lord wants you to learn compassion for his hurting sheep FOR YOUR SAKE. For the sake of your future as a pastor. Maybe God’s intent for your readership here isn’t to chastise the hurting. Maybe it’s something that has more to do with compassion. Just a thought.

You chastising me and others about how we need to COME BACK and GET OVER OURSELVES is not likely to produce that outcome. It’s like you’re some cheerleader at a wake. It’s just not appropriate.

I admit — I’m taking your attitude quite personally because I went to YOUR church. I know exactly who you are. I’m glad you like your church. I’m glad that’s true for you. But your church hurt me. And that is true for ME. Accept that. You ARE representing your church, whether you like it or not. You’re in leadership, as you’ve repeatedly stated.

And I don’t think your tone and insensitivity represent your church very well.

Dude, Dude, Dude.

I had a flicker of hope for you with your change-ish of heart, but then — poof! — it died.

There are two blogs out there sounding the alarms about the “family of churches” MB and I recently attended. I’ve mentioned them obliquely before, not outright, because I’m still weirdly paranoid about things. Not as much as months ago, but, strange, it’s still there. Fading, but there.

(I think I’m now going to simply refer to Maybe Church as FOC — “family of churches” — because then, oh THEN, I can refer to its members as FOCers, which makes me feel lightheaded and giddy and naughty, like I’ve just made out in the backseat for a really long time. I have no preferred pronunciation here, pippa, because no matter how you choose to pronounce it — folkers or fockers — it gives me JOY INAPPROPRIATE AND IMMEASURABLE. I mean, Christians just love to be “folks” and talk about “folks.” I cannot say whether they love to be “focks” but, well, sometimes it just happens.)

Uh, where was I?

Recently, on both of these blogs, a dude (let’s call him Dude) who attends “our” very own FOC church, blessed everybody by inserting himself into the conversations. He used his full name because if you’re a FOCer you should do no less for the sake of honesty. You do not want to be guilty of slander, which — let’s review — is what anonymous blogging (or anonymous blog commenting) IS. Oh, and let’s also review this: The bigger your anonymous boobs, the bigger your anonymous slander because then you’re an automatic tramp and therefore an automatic slanderer. Dude doesn’t have those woes, lucky duck, although I did get a gander of several men sporting large pancaking manboobs at FOC church. I know exactly who Dude is, and while he doesn’t have large pancaking manboobs, he does have a disturbingly hip-forward gait for a hetero dude. Eh, maybe some women like that. Whatever.

Now these blogs, in addition to sounding the warning bell about FOC, also serve as a kind of hospital, binding up the wounded, offering solace to the hurting and confused. The pain in some people’s posts just leaps off the page. It vibrates in the very air when you read their comments and I sometimes find myself feeling helpless that I can’t do more to help them. If you read long enough, you get a sense for context and stories and for who people are and I think that’s important to do on ANY blog before you comment. Get a feel for the vibe, the people, the tone. You’ll be a better commenter. Dude, however, simply barged into ongoing conversations about something else altogether to make his virtually incomprehensible pro-FOC rants.

I’m posting one of his first comments here, edited a bit for names, for his name, etc., but not edited at ALL for grammar, spelling, or, well, SENSE. I want to give you a feel for the mindset of a random FOCer.

(Anything in parentheses and italicized like this is my intervention.)

Here we go ….

Hey brothers and sisters,


PLEASE READ THIS


I would love to here in one sentence (because we all have long winded breaths! ha!) one thing that FOC does that is unbiblical.  It seems that bashing a person that the Father calls “son” or “daughter” would anger him.  So, let’s think of the truth being outside of us, and then work to get to that truth together, holding hands, not b-o-m-b-s…

I have just four comments to make here.  I am a member of FOC SD and a current student at (Yodellyho Seminary) California.  I am a former pastor of a non denominational church (founder) from Temecula, Ca.  It was the fastest growing congregation in America at one point (3 to 524 in 4 and 1/2 months).  I say that pridefully so that you respect me and will eventually bow down and laugh at every joke I make.

Comment 1: What attracted me to FOC, specifically in SD, was the gospel being placed at the center.  This was the intent of (former pastor) and (current pastor).  It isn’t about how much I read the Bible, how much I pray, whether or not that I tithe, or what gifts that I could finally shine with (I was a former pastor and worship-leader).  When I first lead worship for a small group there, (one of FOC SD pastors) asked me afterwards, “well…since, you didn’t ask for critique, let me give you some.”  It angered me for almost a year that every time that I led worship he did that.  I even convinced my wife that he was a crazy control freak and shouldn’t be a pastor, and that maybe we should leave.  In the end, I realized that he was doing these things to actual serve me.  He saw sin in me and sought me out to care for my soul.  The sin lied within me of wanting to be noticed (HELLO, I was a pastor and worship-leader of one of the fastest growing church bodies before, and it had been two years before they asked me to do anything!).  I, the dumb sheep, didn’t get what my earthly shepherd was doing.


Comment 2: FOC has all kinds of problems.  So does the OPC, PCA, Calvary Chapel, URC, Rome, WillowCreek, John Piper, etc. ad nauseam.  This doesn’t mean that I would leave.  What other good church could I find?  Does anyone know of a good church?  I would love to see one.  Then I could finally be in heaven.


Comment 3: Since, probably, no one here is trained in the Bible (I don’t mean the Pastor’s College because it is pastoral, not intense biblical training), nor called to pastor a church, but called to be a dumb sheep of God, think of Peter, our great example of the perfect pastor, and then rethink your position.


Comment 4: Lastly, we get mad when people make Christianity about what the Christian does and not what the Savior did.  Why aren’t we applying the same to FOC? (FOC Pope) or (some FOC leader, I dunno), or (FOC SD pastor), et. al. are not FOC, their message is.  Do you agree with the gospel?  Then these people are your brothers no matter how bad they gave you a wedgie, chewed you out, didn’t listen to your concerns, or didn’t care about the gifts that God has given you.  That sounds like an earthly brother or sister to me.  They will get this all wrong themselves, but their message won’t change.

I would love to hear your thoughts on this.  I will probably judge you, pray that God give you boils under your armpits, laugh at you, and post your comments of (foc4life.com)I don’t know if that exists, haha; I will actually check right now…nope, doesn’t exist.

P.S. I know how you feel though.  I came from a Calvary Chapel background and had to deal with a lot of issues that people from FOC helped me with.  I get it.  What’s weird is that we love each other because of some dude that died on a piece of wood 1970 some odd years ago.

So, love you all!

Above all, may God bless us with the remembrance of what His Son has done by the power of the Holy Spirit for His Own glory,


Dude Duder

You know HELLO I’m not clear on something: Could you please clarify whether you are or are NOT a former pastor and worship leader? You’re pretty vague on this point, Dude, and most people naturally need to know the contents of your entire CV and be repeatedly reminded thereof before they can form an opinion about you or anything you say. Please be more forthcoming. And then please be forthcoming again, so I can know what to think of you and myself in comparison to you. Thank you so much, Dude.

Uhm, thoughts on this, anyone?

I have more from Dude, but I want to hear what you guys think of him and his comment.

Below is a really interesting video I found linked in the comments of a blog I read regularly now — about a certain “family of churches” and its corruption and abuses and subtle use of group think to produce compliance.

Conformity is huge within this “family of churches.” My personal experience was that one person was much like another. Apart from physical differences — and even with that, there was conformity in clothing — one person’s personality and conversation was much like the next. They spouted what sounded like sales pitches. The words may have differed, but the attitudes were identical. Even in our first weeks there, I could sense ….. something. The tip of an iceberg of rigidity under all the smooth pleasant surfaces. I’m still reeling a bit from how bizarre the whole thing was and I’m still surprised and a little embarrassed at how much the ordeal with Outing Person has hurt me.

I knew Outing Person years ago, as I’ve said, and it pains me — literally pains me — to see that his personality seems to have done a complete 180, from the joyful, alive, warm person I once knew to the dour, listless, cold man he seems to be today. How has he changed so much in front of his loved ones without comment from them? Unless they, too, are changing simultaneously? If My Beloved had done a complete 180 in his behavior and personality I would say something, for God’s sake, unless I’d somehow lost the ability to notice. Does Outing Person’s family say nothing because they’re also changing, because they’ve also lost discernment? If I can see it, why can’t they? The implications here are actually terrifying to me.

From what I’ve learned of this “family of churches” over the last several months, I can’t help but lay some — probably most — of the blame for his transformation at its feet. He has conformed to the group. Says the same things others say. Forfeited his personality in order to be “obedient” to man-made rules. His individuality, which once shone so brightly, has been assimilated into the Borg of this church. In my brief and bizarre interactions with him at Maybe Church — and my heart is sick to say this — I saw a man in bondage to rules and legalism. He was once SO free. SO loving. It was all I could do not to shake him or smack him and cry, “What’s happened? What’s HAPPENED TO YOU??” Literally, pippa, I grieve over this. Grieve. Over the months since then, I have found myself randomly weeping over the alteration in this man. I’m not talking about the physical changes that people go through as they get older. Who cares about that? It’s not substantive. I’m talking about the fact that his personality and his demeanor were completely unrecognizable, completely OTHER to me. I actually found it frightening.

I’ll tell you my theory: The Antichrist? That whole thing? It will start with the church itself smoothing the way for that, sloooowy morphing truth into truthiness until the people in the pews end up believing something entirely different from what they started with. It’s happening even now, within this organization, but it’s so subtle, SO subtle, that unless you stubbornly and obnoxiously cling to your independent thinking skills — your GOD-GIVEN ability to reason and analyze — you will succumb.

The man I knew years ago would not have succumbed.

So, yes, it grieves me. I weep over it. I wish I didn’t, but I do.

And it starts with conformity, with the subtle pressure of group think.

Watch this video on an experiment in conformity and see what I mean.