There is a term they have come up with when a gay person quits hiding the fact that he is gay, and announces it to the world: Coming out of the closet. They don't care who knows anymore.
Maybe its time more people in the church, those of us who are ragamuffins, "come out of the closet". Admit what our struggle is, and that we need help.
The devil is smart, and he has tricks and methods that have worked for centuries. I could be wrong, but I wonder if its part of his plan to cause this idea that we need to be silent about some sins and struggles? His reason could be two-fold, that I can see:
First off, people who struggle in silence have a harder time of it. They are more apt to fail and give up.
Secondly: When people do come forth and admit to a struggle, they are often used of God to encourage others, which Satan would not want.
I am not a big fan of Michael English's singing. He was OK in the Gaither Vocal Band, but I'd never buy one of his CDs, but I admire him. He had an affair, and admitted to it. He got addicted to painkillers, and got help and admitted to it. I find him inspiring and encouraging. Some may still hold his sins and failures against Him, but God has forgiven him and is using him.
Brennan Manning, author of the book that has so helped me, was an alcoholic. He sought help and fully admitted often that he had been an alcoholic, and God used him in ways that He never could have if he had suffered in silence.
There are those who have battled porn, same-sex attractions, drugs, and other things who got victory and are out there writing books, blogs, speaking, and doing their best to tell others their story. Why? To show the work of God in their life, and to encourage others who are where they have been that yes, they can make it with God's help. They are not alone, there is hope.
That sure sounds like something the devil wouldn't be happy with, so he continues to work on Christians to act hateful toward some sins, to make people dealing with certain sins or issues that they are all alone, and they need to keep it a secret, or their church and friends will condemn and avoid them.
I have had people tell me things that blew my mind. I had no idea. Just recently, someone I know casually, and have never met told me a secret. Its not horrible, but its something she hides from even family.
I have 367 friends on Facebook, and many friends outside of the internet. How many of them are dealing with some issue they are afraid to tell anyone about? How many could be helped if someone else "came out of the closet" and admitted they struggled in that area, or had struggled and gotten victory.
Some are doing it. Thank God for those who have been brave enough to quit hiding, and risked it all to admit it:
"I'm an alcohloic"
"I'm addicted to porn"
"I was molested"
"I'm attracted to the same sex"
"I'm having marriage problems"
"I'm suffering from depression"
God has a way of using the bad in our lives for good. The people who love the most, who are not judgmental, who have reached people dealing with some bad stuff, are often the ones who dealt with some bad stuff themselves. Who knows the people we could reach and help if we quit hiding. Is there risk? Yes, but life is risky, and if God has helped us, we kind of owe it to Him to let others know, and try to help others.
It is rough thinking you are the only one dealing with an issue. To sit in a church full of people who seemingly have it all together. I'm not necessarily talking about a sin issue. There are other things that we feel ashamed to admit we are dealing with. Afraid to be judged, condemned, avoided.... how awesome would it be to know there are others who have been where we have been, who have gone through the same valley, struggled with the same sin, who hasn't had a bed of roses being a Christian.
When we come to God, the masks have to come off. He sees right through them, and we may try to cover our sin or scars, but He can see everything. There may be some things we need to keep between God and ourselves, but there are other things that God may be able to use, may be able to use US, if we come out of the closet of silence and shame and admit it.
Will we face people who will judge us? Avoid us, gossip about us, condemn us? Most likely. But not all will, and chances are, there is at least one person who is cowering, struggling, who may end p coming to us for help and encouragement they so desperately need. It won't be easy. Often doing the right thing isn't easy, and we get fought, but if we help and encourage others, and point them to our Savior...... isn't that what its all about?
What good is having a testimony of God's help and deliverance from something of you can never tell anyone? If God heals from cancer, the person will testify, some even write books, but what about being delivered from and getting victory over something like porn..... why must some even hide their victories, while others shout them from the roof tops.
I could be wrong, but I do believe if more people were honest about what they are struggling with, and about what God has helped them with, there would be more people encouraged and getting help from the same issues. If we come out of the closet with what we are going through, and how God has helped us, the sky is the limit on what God could do. So what is holding us back? People...... Christian people.
Maybe we all need to stop caring so much about what people think of us, and telling God to use us, even if it means shouting from the housetop what we have wanted to hide forever. If He receives glory, and if others are helped, wouldn't it be worth it all in the end?
Showing posts with label ragamuffins. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ragamuffins. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Monday, December 2, 2013
Welcoming the ragamuffins (2 of 3)
(A continuation of my last blog post, we are all ragamuffins)
When Jesus was walking the earth during His ministry, He hung out with a lot of people that were the "ragamuffins" of that time. The woman at the well, publicans, lepers, prostitutes. He hung out with people that everyone else would shun. People that we would have shunned..... people that we do shun.
From reading the Gospels, I believe I am right on this: If Jesus was walking among us today, He wouldn't be hanging out at our churches and fellowship halls. He'd be hanging out with the drug addicts, drunkards, prostitutes, homosexuals, the poor. He'd be going to AA meetings, hanging out in mental hospitals, be going to places like Exodus International, had they not shut down. He'd be in the ghettos, skid row, wherever there are hurting people who need Him.
We have groups of people who we want to avoid and who we look down on. Perhaps the one we look down the most and don't want in our churches are the homosexuals. Its one sin we have made worse than others. Is it any wonder they hate Christians so much?
Just in my church alone, I have heard some stuff that would scare any gay person that was there and heard:
Once a speaker referenced gay people from the front, I can't remember the context. A man seated behind me leaned up and muttered "they need to round up all the queers and hang them"
Another time, my Sunday School class was doing a different social issue all month, and one Sunday was the issue of homosexuality. There were a few people making some pretty mean comments, but two especially said things like "the perverts", "I'd rather have my kids around a murderer, than around one of THEM." And they had other similar comments. Ironically, one of them was later caught in an immoral scandal that hurt his family.
If we have these attitudes toward gay people and other sinners whose sins we view worse than ours, is it any wonder the church is becoming irrelevant to the world? That sinners won't darken our door?
How would you react if a friend sat across from you and told you they were cheating on their spouse? That they were gay? That they were addicted to pain killers? That they were an alcoholic? Would you love them, or run for it? Would you keep their confidence, or tell people? Would you be Jesus to them, or kick them while they were down?
It is said of Christians, that we shoot our wounded. What a sad statement, but all too often, that is the case. I shared the following story in a previous blog post, but it goes along well with this idea of ragamuffins in the church, and of shooting our wounded. Southern Gospel singer Kirk Talley told it on a live CD:
There was a young man who attended a fairly large church where he played a guitar on the worship team. He was struggling with same-sex attractions, and went to his pastor about it. His pastor seemed understanding and I think said he'd pray for him. The next service came. While the young man was on the platform with the worship team, the pastor told of his coming to him about his same-sex attractions - in front of the whole church - then turned to the young man and said something along this line: "Get out of my church and don't come back. We don't want your kind here."
Talk about shooting the wounded, and not making ragamuffins welcome. What a sad commentary for a pastor, and for anyone who sat there and just watched that young man walk out of the church.
Not all churches are like that. I ran across a blog a while back that I keep up with, as its a very encouraging blog. The young man who writes it struggles with same-sex attractions, and has been fortunate to find a church who loves and accepts him. What if all churches were like that? Instead of shunning sinners whose sins aren't the "nice ones" we are comfortable around, that we'd welcome them and love them to Jesus.
Andrew's post is a bit long, but its worth reading, so I am putting it here. He raises some good points. No church is exempt from having people who struggle with this issue. Yes, yours also. The chances of you personally knowing a person dealing with it are higher than they are of you not knowing. Its one sin and issue the church has made so bad, that the people in our churches who are dealing with it are scared to death to tell anyone. How would you react if someone told you?
To my Calvary Family:
It’s good to be here this morning with friends and family. As we have been wading through what God has to say about our human sexuality, we’ve reached a topic of conversation that we as a community do not engage with very often: Homosexuality.
I have not often talked about this topic outside of close friendships, but when I heard that Calvary was spending time trying to better understand those who experience life as a “sexual minority” I felt that I needed to contribute.
I am one of you. I worship with you, serve with you, rejoice with you, celebrate with you, and weep with you. However, I am also gay.
I did not choose my sexual orientation. I did not choose to only be attracted to people of my same gender. However, this is the experience I found myself in as I entered into puberty and started growing into an adult.
As I fought through adolescence trying to ignore my growing attractions, I assumed this was something that would fall away as I grew into maturity. However, I was alone with my thoughts, feeling afraid that I could never be honest with anyone about this. The first time I came out to anyone was to my good friend Jeremy. When I finally said the words, that I was attracted to men and not to women, he showed me love and acceptance. He told me that he would always be there for me and that our friendship would not change because of this.
He helped me find the courage to talk about this with more friends and pastors. Despite great fear, I opened myself up to more believers that I trusted, and I found many loving people who accepted me and supported me. They gave me a great environment to keep processing my experience, and they stuck with me faithfully when I experienced the highs and lows of trying to figure out what it all meant.
As I stared into an unclear future I knew two things:
1) I was exclusively attracted to other men.
2) I desired to live a “normal” life with a wife and children.
Four years ago, I entered into professional counseling to talk about my conflicting desires, and hoping that maybe I could find the cause of them so I could deal with it and experience the “normal” life I wanted. A definitive “cause” never surfaced, and I don’t believe it ever will. I learned to let that part go. And, after much counseling, prayer, and reflection, I realized that my attractions were not changing. I also realized that I did not wish to bring a woman into what would surely be a complicated and difficult marriage.
I was faced with a choice of how I would live. I had grown up my entire life in the church. My convictions were strong. My faith was not simply a matter of the intellect, but was deeply rooted in my heart. Faith was not something I could simply “take off” or set aside. I continued to study Scripture and God affirmed the conviction I held that same-sex sexual relationships are not what God desires of us. In light of this, I found that the only decision I could make that would be consistent with my experiences and my faith would be one of celibacy.
Celibacy isn’t a word we use a whole lot these days. It is a ‘churchy’ word that means a person will not engage in any sexual intimacy for either a period of time or for one’s entire life. But I’ve also come to see that it’s a positive calling towards serving the Kingdom without the responsibility of a spouse. While a life of celibacy is what God has for all of us who are unmarried, it is not assumed that many believers will take on this burden for a lifetime. The assumption is that all will eventually get married and pursue a spiritually, emotionally, and physically intimate relationship with their spouse. But for me, I had to work on figuring out what it would look like to never pursue a sexual relationship with another. I had to face a future that would set me apart from my friends and peers:
I would never have that one person whom I cherished above all others.
I would not have that partner who walked with me through all of life’s good times and bad.
I was choosing a life where I would have few people to look to as my role model. I was choosing to spend many evenings alone. I was choosing to open myself up to a deep pain and loneliness that would be hard to combat no matter how strong my faith was. I still have times where it feels overwhelming to look ahead to my next 60 years. However, I have remained convinced that this is the life God has for me.
I will not lie to you. This is often a difficult road to walk, trying to be faithful to the Gospel’s demand on my life. We all are called to sacrifice much in order to best follow Christ. My sacrifice just happens to include sexual intimacy.
I have continued along this path as I have served among you and share life with so many of you. Several close friends have been there every step of the way. They’ve cried with me, encouraged me, welcomed me into their families, and allowed me to pour out onto them all the extra time and love I have to give.
Some of you may be wondering right now why I would feel the need to share so much of my story with everyone here today. Trust me when I say this was not a decision I came to lightly.
While I have several “safe spaces” where I can talk about the joys and sorrows of my life, the broader Church has been very much a “don’t ask, don’t tell” environment. I read a sermon this summer that explained this really well.
Pastor Dan Scott from Christ Church in Nashville preached on homosexuality back in June or July. Some of you may have read or listened to this same sermon as Pastor Bill and a few others shared it on Facebook. I appreciated the entire thing, but a couple of points really stuck with me. Allow me to highlight them:
“It would be far healthier for a church and its people if a homosexual person were able to appropriately reveal their struggle than to force him or her into a “don’t ask, don’t tell” situation. When congregations quietly accept a person’s contribution to their church while suppressing the reality of their struggle, it corrupts the integrity and witness of that church. It also creates denial mechanisms that disillusion individuals who grow up in that church.”
“The bottom line then is that many people we love are attracted to members of their own sex. Just like the rest of us, they struggle to live godly lives. If they are not welcome among us, or if we must shame them into an unreasonable silence about the nature of their struggle, we simply don’t have much to offer the world except condemnation. For all these reasons, we must become more mature in the way we deal with our friends, family and brothers and sisters in Christ who experience same-sex attraction.”
It’s as if what we communicate by our silence is that I will remain a welcomed part of this community as long as I don’t talk about this aspect of my life. I would not say that this is intentional, but it is an unhealthy dynamic that exists within the church. I came to see that one of the only ways to help make the church a safer place was to step up and speak. That’s why I’m up here sharing this morning. That’s why I’m opening myself up to answer any questions you all may have. I don’t have all the answers, but I’ll gladly share my heart with you all and keep the conversation going.
I stumbled upon this quote from Tim Keller last month and found it to be profoundly relevant as to why I felt I needed to share this morning.
“To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything.”
Another great thing that I found was a blog post written by a man named Matt Jones. He recently came out publicly and wrote some beautiful articles about the reasons why he chose to begin talking openly. I found that I resonated with these reasons and wanted to share a few of them with you.
Matt says, “This isn’t just about me. There are still countless men and women whose knuckles turn white when the pastor mentions homosexuality because, suddenly, he’s talking about them, who feel like they are walking this path alone and are haunted by anxiety that someone may discover their secret. I know they are there because I’ve been one of them.”
He continues, “Living out of the closet as a celibate, gay Christian gives me the opportunity to speak to a world that has lost its mind when it comes to sex and relationships. The culture at large (including the Church) has drunk deep the lie that sexual activity is essential to being human and that true joy or flourishing are impossible to find outside of a romantic relationship.”
After all that, Matt says, “As I stand up and speak out, reminding the Church what it is called to and how it could love more fully those in and outside itself, the Church will do the same for me. I’m choosing to live openly because I love the Church too much to let it love LGBTQ people so poorly, and because I know that as I press into it I, too, will learn to love better.
“And so we will all become a little bit more like Christ, together.”
For ALL of these reasons, I felt it was important to help open up the dialogue at Calvary by sharing my story.
And to the Church family that has mentored me and encouraged me these last 12 years, thank you.
In Christ,
Andrew Asdell (original post here)
Imagine a church where we could step up and admit this struggle, or some other struggle the church condemns us to silence on. Jesus welcomes all with open arms, should not the church do the same?
What would happen if this young man came forward in your church? In mine? What about your family?
I firmly believe there are more people dealing with all kinds of issues in our church who are afraid to admit it: homosexuality, marriage conflicts, addictions, depression, and the list goes on. Until we truly welcome the broken, the hurting, the sinner - no matter what his sin is - we will have hurting people in our midst who are going to keep on hurting until they give up or leave the church for one that will do them more good.
One of my favorite stories in the Bible is when the woman caught in adultery was brought before Jesus. She had been caught in the sin, and the religious leaders were ecstatic to see what Jesus would do. They were all for stoning her. They may have even had stones in their hands, but Jesus said those words that took the wind out of their sails "let him who has no sin, cast the first stone." What if that took place in our church? Would we want to cast a stone at the adulterer, the alcoholic, the homosexual, the child molester? Or would we just show them the door and say as the Pharisee, "Thank God I am not like THEM."
Is it not time to set aside the idea that we are all OK, and admit we have doubts, struggles, even sins? Is it not time to make the church a place for hurting people to come and get love and help, instead of condemnation and feeling the need to hide their struggle?
There is a danger of people thinking God is like the church. I am afraid that has been some of my problem down through the years. My sin is so terrible that even God is disgusted, that He can never truly forgive me completely, and that I'd have to work at making Him love me......
But the truth is God isn't like too many of His followers. He loves totally and completely. He is neither disgusted or disappointed in any of us, no matter what the sin or struggle. He forgives completely. The same drop of blood that will forgive a lie, will forgive the most horrific sins of murder, rape, etc. There are no limits to His grace and love. The church will put limits, but God never will. He welcomes all, and the ragamuffins are included just as much as Mother Theresa or the Apostle Paul.
When Jesus was walking the earth during His ministry, He hung out with a lot of people that were the "ragamuffins" of that time. The woman at the well, publicans, lepers, prostitutes. He hung out with people that everyone else would shun. People that we would have shunned..... people that we do shun.
From reading the Gospels, I believe I am right on this: If Jesus was walking among us today, He wouldn't be hanging out at our churches and fellowship halls. He'd be hanging out with the drug addicts, drunkards, prostitutes, homosexuals, the poor. He'd be going to AA meetings, hanging out in mental hospitals, be going to places like Exodus International, had they not shut down. He'd be in the ghettos, skid row, wherever there are hurting people who need Him.
We have groups of people who we want to avoid and who we look down on. Perhaps the one we look down the most and don't want in our churches are the homosexuals. Its one sin we have made worse than others. Is it any wonder they hate Christians so much?
Just in my church alone, I have heard some stuff that would scare any gay person that was there and heard:
Once a speaker referenced gay people from the front, I can't remember the context. A man seated behind me leaned up and muttered "they need to round up all the queers and hang them"
Another time, my Sunday School class was doing a different social issue all month, and one Sunday was the issue of homosexuality. There were a few people making some pretty mean comments, but two especially said things like "the perverts", "I'd rather have my kids around a murderer, than around one of THEM." And they had other similar comments. Ironically, one of them was later caught in an immoral scandal that hurt his family.
If we have these attitudes toward gay people and other sinners whose sins we view worse than ours, is it any wonder the church is becoming irrelevant to the world? That sinners won't darken our door?
How would you react if a friend sat across from you and told you they were cheating on their spouse? That they were gay? That they were addicted to pain killers? That they were an alcoholic? Would you love them, or run for it? Would you keep their confidence, or tell people? Would you be Jesus to them, or kick them while they were down?
It is said of Christians, that we shoot our wounded. What a sad statement, but all too often, that is the case. I shared the following story in a previous blog post, but it goes along well with this idea of ragamuffins in the church, and of shooting our wounded. Southern Gospel singer Kirk Talley told it on a live CD:
There was a young man who attended a fairly large church where he played a guitar on the worship team. He was struggling with same-sex attractions, and went to his pastor about it. His pastor seemed understanding and I think said he'd pray for him. The next service came. While the young man was on the platform with the worship team, the pastor told of his coming to him about his same-sex attractions - in front of the whole church - then turned to the young man and said something along this line: "Get out of my church and don't come back. We don't want your kind here."
Talk about shooting the wounded, and not making ragamuffins welcome. What a sad commentary for a pastor, and for anyone who sat there and just watched that young man walk out of the church.
Not all churches are like that. I ran across a blog a while back that I keep up with, as its a very encouraging blog. The young man who writes it struggles with same-sex attractions, and has been fortunate to find a church who loves and accepts him. What if all churches were like that? Instead of shunning sinners whose sins aren't the "nice ones" we are comfortable around, that we'd welcome them and love them to Jesus.
Andrew's post is a bit long, but its worth reading, so I am putting it here. He raises some good points. No church is exempt from having people who struggle with this issue. Yes, yours also. The chances of you personally knowing a person dealing with it are higher than they are of you not knowing. Its one sin and issue the church has made so bad, that the people in our churches who are dealing with it are scared to death to tell anyone. How would you react if someone told you?
To my Calvary Family:
It’s good to be here this morning with friends and family. As we have been wading through what God has to say about our human sexuality, we’ve reached a topic of conversation that we as a community do not engage with very often: Homosexuality.
I have not often talked about this topic outside of close friendships, but when I heard that Calvary was spending time trying to better understand those who experience life as a “sexual minority” I felt that I needed to contribute.
I am one of you. I worship with you, serve with you, rejoice with you, celebrate with you, and weep with you. However, I am also gay.
I did not choose my sexual orientation. I did not choose to only be attracted to people of my same gender. However, this is the experience I found myself in as I entered into puberty and started growing into an adult.
As I fought through adolescence trying to ignore my growing attractions, I assumed this was something that would fall away as I grew into maturity. However, I was alone with my thoughts, feeling afraid that I could never be honest with anyone about this. The first time I came out to anyone was to my good friend Jeremy. When I finally said the words, that I was attracted to men and not to women, he showed me love and acceptance. He told me that he would always be there for me and that our friendship would not change because of this.
He helped me find the courage to talk about this with more friends and pastors. Despite great fear, I opened myself up to more believers that I trusted, and I found many loving people who accepted me and supported me. They gave me a great environment to keep processing my experience, and they stuck with me faithfully when I experienced the highs and lows of trying to figure out what it all meant.
As I stared into an unclear future I knew two things:
1) I was exclusively attracted to other men.
2) I desired to live a “normal” life with a wife and children.
Four years ago, I entered into professional counseling to talk about my conflicting desires, and hoping that maybe I could find the cause of them so I could deal with it and experience the “normal” life I wanted. A definitive “cause” never surfaced, and I don’t believe it ever will. I learned to let that part go. And, after much counseling, prayer, and reflection, I realized that my attractions were not changing. I also realized that I did not wish to bring a woman into what would surely be a complicated and difficult marriage.
I was faced with a choice of how I would live. I had grown up my entire life in the church. My convictions were strong. My faith was not simply a matter of the intellect, but was deeply rooted in my heart. Faith was not something I could simply “take off” or set aside. I continued to study Scripture and God affirmed the conviction I held that same-sex sexual relationships are not what God desires of us. In light of this, I found that the only decision I could make that would be consistent with my experiences and my faith would be one of celibacy.
Celibacy isn’t a word we use a whole lot these days. It is a ‘churchy’ word that means a person will not engage in any sexual intimacy for either a period of time or for one’s entire life. But I’ve also come to see that it’s a positive calling towards serving the Kingdom without the responsibility of a spouse. While a life of celibacy is what God has for all of us who are unmarried, it is not assumed that many believers will take on this burden for a lifetime. The assumption is that all will eventually get married and pursue a spiritually, emotionally, and physically intimate relationship with their spouse. But for me, I had to work on figuring out what it would look like to never pursue a sexual relationship with another. I had to face a future that would set me apart from my friends and peers:
I would never have that one person whom I cherished above all others.
I would not have that partner who walked with me through all of life’s good times and bad.
I was choosing a life where I would have few people to look to as my role model. I was choosing to spend many evenings alone. I was choosing to open myself up to a deep pain and loneliness that would be hard to combat no matter how strong my faith was. I still have times where it feels overwhelming to look ahead to my next 60 years. However, I have remained convinced that this is the life God has for me.
I will not lie to you. This is often a difficult road to walk, trying to be faithful to the Gospel’s demand on my life. We all are called to sacrifice much in order to best follow Christ. My sacrifice just happens to include sexual intimacy.
I have continued along this path as I have served among you and share life with so many of you. Several close friends have been there every step of the way. They’ve cried with me, encouraged me, welcomed me into their families, and allowed me to pour out onto them all the extra time and love I have to give.
Some of you may be wondering right now why I would feel the need to share so much of my story with everyone here today. Trust me when I say this was not a decision I came to lightly.
While I have several “safe spaces” where I can talk about the joys and sorrows of my life, the broader Church has been very much a “don’t ask, don’t tell” environment. I read a sermon this summer that explained this really well.
Pastor Dan Scott from Christ Church in Nashville preached on homosexuality back in June or July. Some of you may have read or listened to this same sermon as Pastor Bill and a few others shared it on Facebook. I appreciated the entire thing, but a couple of points really stuck with me. Allow me to highlight them:
“It would be far healthier for a church and its people if a homosexual person were able to appropriately reveal their struggle than to force him or her into a “don’t ask, don’t tell” situation. When congregations quietly accept a person’s contribution to their church while suppressing the reality of their struggle, it corrupts the integrity and witness of that church. It also creates denial mechanisms that disillusion individuals who grow up in that church.”
“The bottom line then is that many people we love are attracted to members of their own sex. Just like the rest of us, they struggle to live godly lives. If they are not welcome among us, or if we must shame them into an unreasonable silence about the nature of their struggle, we simply don’t have much to offer the world except condemnation. For all these reasons, we must become more mature in the way we deal with our friends, family and brothers and sisters in Christ who experience same-sex attraction.”
It’s as if what we communicate by our silence is that I will remain a welcomed part of this community as long as I don’t talk about this aspect of my life. I would not say that this is intentional, but it is an unhealthy dynamic that exists within the church. I came to see that one of the only ways to help make the church a safer place was to step up and speak. That’s why I’m up here sharing this morning. That’s why I’m opening myself up to answer any questions you all may have. I don’t have all the answers, but I’ll gladly share my heart with you all and keep the conversation going.
I stumbled upon this quote from Tim Keller last month and found it to be profoundly relevant as to why I felt I needed to share this morning.
“To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything.”
Another great thing that I found was a blog post written by a man named Matt Jones. He recently came out publicly and wrote some beautiful articles about the reasons why he chose to begin talking openly. I found that I resonated with these reasons and wanted to share a few of them with you.
Matt says, “This isn’t just about me. There are still countless men and women whose knuckles turn white when the pastor mentions homosexuality because, suddenly, he’s talking about them, who feel like they are walking this path alone and are haunted by anxiety that someone may discover their secret. I know they are there because I’ve been one of them.”
He continues, “Living out of the closet as a celibate, gay Christian gives me the opportunity to speak to a world that has lost its mind when it comes to sex and relationships. The culture at large (including the Church) has drunk deep the lie that sexual activity is essential to being human and that true joy or flourishing are impossible to find outside of a romantic relationship.”
After all that, Matt says, “As I stand up and speak out, reminding the Church what it is called to and how it could love more fully those in and outside itself, the Church will do the same for me. I’m choosing to live openly because I love the Church too much to let it love LGBTQ people so poorly, and because I know that as I press into it I, too, will learn to love better.
“And so we will all become a little bit more like Christ, together.”
For ALL of these reasons, I felt it was important to help open up the dialogue at Calvary by sharing my story.
And to the Church family that has mentored me and encouraged me these last 12 years, thank you.
In Christ,
Andrew Asdell (original post here)
Imagine a church where we could step up and admit this struggle, or some other struggle the church condemns us to silence on. Jesus welcomes all with open arms, should not the church do the same?
What would happen if this young man came forward in your church? In mine? What about your family?
I firmly believe there are more people dealing with all kinds of issues in our church who are afraid to admit it: homosexuality, marriage conflicts, addictions, depression, and the list goes on. Until we truly welcome the broken, the hurting, the sinner - no matter what his sin is - we will have hurting people in our midst who are going to keep on hurting until they give up or leave the church for one that will do them more good.
One of my favorite stories in the Bible is when the woman caught in adultery was brought before Jesus. She had been caught in the sin, and the religious leaders were ecstatic to see what Jesus would do. They were all for stoning her. They may have even had stones in their hands, but Jesus said those words that took the wind out of their sails "let him who has no sin, cast the first stone." What if that took place in our church? Would we want to cast a stone at the adulterer, the alcoholic, the homosexual, the child molester? Or would we just show them the door and say as the Pharisee, "Thank God I am not like THEM."
Is it not time to set aside the idea that we are all OK, and admit we have doubts, struggles, even sins? Is it not time to make the church a place for hurting people to come and get love and help, instead of condemnation and feeling the need to hide their struggle?
There is a danger of people thinking God is like the church. I am afraid that has been some of my problem down through the years. My sin is so terrible that even God is disgusted, that He can never truly forgive me completely, and that I'd have to work at making Him love me......
But the truth is God isn't like too many of His followers. He loves totally and completely. He is neither disgusted or disappointed in any of us, no matter what the sin or struggle. He forgives completely. The same drop of blood that will forgive a lie, will forgive the most horrific sins of murder, rape, etc. There are no limits to His grace and love. The church will put limits, but God never will. He welcomes all, and the ragamuffins are included just as much as Mother Theresa or the Apostle Paul.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
We are all ragamuffins (1 of 3)
Of all of the books I have read this past year, maybe even in my lifetime, The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning has affected and helped me the most. Subtitled, "Good News for the Bedraggled, Beat-Up, and Burnt Out", its a book that seems like it was written for me. I know it wasn't, but it resonated so much with me, and got down to where I am, that it may as well have been written just for me.
Book description:
A Furious Love Is Hot on Your Trail!
Many believers feel stunted in their Christian growth. We beat ourselves up over our failures and, in the process, pull away from God because we subconsciously believe He tallies our defects and hangs His head in disappointment. In this newly repackaged edition—now with full appendix, study questions, and the author’s own epilogue, “Ragamuffin Ten Years Later,” Brennan Manning reminds us that nothing could be further from the truth. The Father beckons us to Himself with a “furious love” that burns brightly and constantly. Only when we truly embrace God’s grace can we bask in the joy of a gospel that enfolds the most needy of His flock—the “ragamuffins.”
Are you bedraggled, beat-up, burnt-out?
Most of us believe in God’s grace—in theory. But somehow we can’t seem to apply it in our daily lives. We continue to see Him as a small-minded bookkeeper, tallying our failures and successes on a score sheet.
Yet God gives us His grace, willingly, no matter what we’ve done. We come to Him as ragamuffins—dirty, bedraggled, and beat-up. And when we sit at His feet, He smiles upon us, the chosen objects of His “furious love.”
Our churches are full of ragamuffins: Bedraggled, beat-Up, and burnt out people. And in too many churches, they feel they have to hide it.
A few years ago, I wrote a blog about Christians wearing masks, and did a follow up to it a week or so later. We obviously don't want people crying all the time about how hard they are having it, but all too often we encourage people to put up a facade that everything is OK. People are afraid to speak up and admit that no, everything isn't OK.
We have given this idea, depending on different churches, that you go to the altar and get saved, then go again for the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, and you're set for life. Your Christian experience is going to be just hunky dory...... but what about the ragamuffins? The bedraggled, beat-up, the burnt-out? What about the ones who have a hard struggle?
I do. Its one that would cause a lot of people to avoid me, condemn me, or run if I spoke up and asked for prayer, so I have struggled alone in the very place where I should have been able to get the most help: church.
Another issue I deal with is depression. Even that isn't an easy thing to deal with in the church. Too many Christians still consider it a spiritual issue. I had someone tell me I just needed to pray more and get in a better place with God. When you are severely depressed, you often can't pray. Its like praying to the ceiling. The prayers just fall back and smack you in the face, and seemingly go unheard and unanswered. It was much worse than anyone knew, yet I didn't feel I could speak up during prayer request time, and why not?
Is the church not a place for hurting people? For sinners? Strugglers? Is it not the family of God, "when one has a heartache, we all share the tears?" But what if the church has become a place where you don't feel comfortable sharing a heartache or struggle? What if your issue doesn't fall into the "nice sins" category?
I'm not trying to knock my church, but its where I go, so of course I would use it for an example. I don't like everything about it, nor do I agree with everything, but no church is perfect. If I found a perfect church, I sure wouldn't be allowed there... My church, and many others, have almost forced people to put forth a facade that all is OK. It seems to be expected that everyone gets the same experience and in the same amount of time.
There aren't just people in the church who only told a few lies before becoming a Christian. Some of them did "worse" sins. What about the drug addict? The alcoholic? The homosexual? God will forgive any sin and loves all sinners equally, but sadly not all churches will love all sinners or welcome them all. Only people who have done the "nice sins." There's no room for the ragamuffins who don't have it all together, who still stumbles or falls occasionally.
The church should be a hospital for the broken and hurting, not a museum for the healthy, but too many churches have closed access to those who need it most. Too many churches are not at all like the God of love we are to serve and be like.
God loves us all, and is waiting to forgive all sins, from lying to murder and child molesting. No sin is pretty, all sinners will go to hell if they do not repent. The church cannot pick and choose which sinners are welcome in their midst. If we were truly like Jesus, we would be hanging out with the worst of sinners, but we are afraid to get dirty. Sad.
As for my depression, I have learned to combat it in other ways, not that I am knocking medications. Most days, I have a pretty good handle on it, and hopefully can get totally on top of it with God's help.
The truth is not always convenient. The truth is, we are all ragamuffins. All of us are going to deal with something, whether it be a besetting sin, an issue like depression, marriage problems - the possibilities are endless - but at some point, we are going to find ourselves beat-up, bedraggled, and burnt-out. Are we going to hide it and keep up our facade, or will we step forward? Its not easy, especially if the church atmosphere seems to discourage it, but it may be the only way to get past it.
Book description:
A Furious Love Is Hot on Your Trail!
Many believers feel stunted in their Christian growth. We beat ourselves up over our failures and, in the process, pull away from God because we subconsciously believe He tallies our defects and hangs His head in disappointment. In this newly repackaged edition—now with full appendix, study questions, and the author’s own epilogue, “Ragamuffin Ten Years Later,” Brennan Manning reminds us that nothing could be further from the truth. The Father beckons us to Himself with a “furious love” that burns brightly and constantly. Only when we truly embrace God’s grace can we bask in the joy of a gospel that enfolds the most needy of His flock—the “ragamuffins.”
Are you bedraggled, beat-up, burnt-out?
Most of us believe in God’s grace—in theory. But somehow we can’t seem to apply it in our daily lives. We continue to see Him as a small-minded bookkeeper, tallying our failures and successes on a score sheet.
Yet God gives us His grace, willingly, no matter what we’ve done. We come to Him as ragamuffins—dirty, bedraggled, and beat-up. And when we sit at His feet, He smiles upon us, the chosen objects of His “furious love.”
Our churches are full of ragamuffins: Bedraggled, beat-Up, and burnt out people. And in too many churches, they feel they have to hide it.
A few years ago, I wrote a blog about Christians wearing masks, and did a follow up to it a week or so later. We obviously don't want people crying all the time about how hard they are having it, but all too often we encourage people to put up a facade that everything is OK. People are afraid to speak up and admit that no, everything isn't OK.
We have given this idea, depending on different churches, that you go to the altar and get saved, then go again for the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, and you're set for life. Your Christian experience is going to be just hunky dory...... but what about the ragamuffins? The bedraggled, beat-up, the burnt-out? What about the ones who have a hard struggle?
I do. Its one that would cause a lot of people to avoid me, condemn me, or run if I spoke up and asked for prayer, so I have struggled alone in the very place where I should have been able to get the most help: church.
Another issue I deal with is depression. Even that isn't an easy thing to deal with in the church. Too many Christians still consider it a spiritual issue. I had someone tell me I just needed to pray more and get in a better place with God. When you are severely depressed, you often can't pray. Its like praying to the ceiling. The prayers just fall back and smack you in the face, and seemingly go unheard and unanswered. It was much worse than anyone knew, yet I didn't feel I could speak up during prayer request time, and why not?
Is the church not a place for hurting people? For sinners? Strugglers? Is it not the family of God, "when one has a heartache, we all share the tears?" But what if the church has become a place where you don't feel comfortable sharing a heartache or struggle? What if your issue doesn't fall into the "nice sins" category?
I'm not trying to knock my church, but its where I go, so of course I would use it for an example. I don't like everything about it, nor do I agree with everything, but no church is perfect. If I found a perfect church, I sure wouldn't be allowed there... My church, and many others, have almost forced people to put forth a facade that all is OK. It seems to be expected that everyone gets the same experience and in the same amount of time.
There aren't just people in the church who only told a few lies before becoming a Christian. Some of them did "worse" sins. What about the drug addict? The alcoholic? The homosexual? God will forgive any sin and loves all sinners equally, but sadly not all churches will love all sinners or welcome them all. Only people who have done the "nice sins." There's no room for the ragamuffins who don't have it all together, who still stumbles or falls occasionally.
The church should be a hospital for the broken and hurting, not a museum for the healthy, but too many churches have closed access to those who need it most. Too many churches are not at all like the God of love we are to serve and be like.
God loves us all, and is waiting to forgive all sins, from lying to murder and child molesting. No sin is pretty, all sinners will go to hell if they do not repent. The church cannot pick and choose which sinners are welcome in their midst. If we were truly like Jesus, we would be hanging out with the worst of sinners, but we are afraid to get dirty. Sad.
As for my depression, I have learned to combat it in other ways, not that I am knocking medications. Most days, I have a pretty good handle on it, and hopefully can get totally on top of it with God's help.
The truth is not always convenient. The truth is, we are all ragamuffins. All of us are going to deal with something, whether it be a besetting sin, an issue like depression, marriage problems - the possibilities are endless - but at some point, we are going to find ourselves beat-up, bedraggled, and burnt-out. Are we going to hide it and keep up our facade, or will we step forward? Its not easy, especially if the church atmosphere seems to discourage it, but it may be the only way to get past it.
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