Every time I go to write I feel this mania.  It is part of the reason I haven't written anything. (That, and the previous post I wrote, but never shared on social media.) Oh, and the National Zombie Church Apocalypse we've just entered. I'm not going to say I'm through speaking to those inside the brick and mortar church, but I'm not jumping at the bit to talk directly to them.

Consider this one a freebee.  

I'm tired  of reading post after post that basically begin, "But why my church?" The church congregant couldn't understand when they had great programs, and a loving congregation. Why would someone intentionally not go to something like that?

Let me throw it down for you as simply as I can.

I have always had a problem with monasticism. I shouldn't. It's not like I have that sage leader that suggested I should be skeptical of the monastic lifestyle. Nothing in my church career have I had reason to not appreciate monks and nuns. (In my church career, but I'll get back to that.)

Last week, talking about Church abuse, I felt I had a Paradox I needed to revisit. How could I suggest someone leave the Church when they are victimized by the Church, but I'm not cool with monks and nuns separating themselves from the world?

I'm just going to say this. I'm not looking for sympathy, and I don't want you to be mad a the parties involved. I spent a few years of my life in a neglectful home. First it was my mother's home, as she found dependency in an abusive drunk.  Then in the home of a grandmother that was slowly losing her mind to the drugs that were meant to save her life. 

As an adult I can see what my child-brain couldn't. The church wanted me to escape my neglect, not solve it. They didn't want me bringing it into the sanctuary, and warping the communion table with the truth of life.  

I dislike monasticism because we were created to live this life, not escape it. 
The Church, at the exact same time, became little temporary escape hatches for life. The only way for this to work is to ostracize those who bring reality into her building. And don't get me wrong, most of it has been unknowingly. 

Maybe the space set aside for worship is sacred, but the Church is life. When you cut out life, you create this fake-utopia. 

Last note on pulling yourself out of context with people who think exactly like you: I cried every time I came home from Summer Camp. First, I tried to bring my reality to camp every single year and no one wanted real. They wanted their fake real.  Second, it was still an alluring trick to bring a camp full of people who believed the same thing together and pretend Utopia for a week. It was even worse when I had to come home and live in reality again.

How are we the Body of Christ again? We are all members? That's right! We are all connected. The second we shift blame is the second it becomes worse. The second we ignore and deflect is the second it becomes worse.

#NotAllChristians! Amiright? 

You have no sympathy from me. 

I may have left the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) but I didn't leave the Church. I sure as hell didn't leave God. 

I do believe we need to be in community with one another as Christians.  That's where we are so desperate to save the identity of institutionalized church, we are losing everyone in the process.

Church abuse is my abuse.
Church abuse is your abuse. ANY CHURCH abuse.  

You were so insistent of being outside the world, the worst parts of the world came to you.

I cannot say this loud enough, so here I go saying it again for the dullards in the back:

I want to preach with more than the traditional means to do so.  I want to preach through narrative, and paint. I want to rethink worship from the ground up. 

About a month ago I went to God in prayer and just cried. I don't want to give it up. 

That might sound silly. Like, who's asking me to give something up? More than you think. 
You know how it feels when I get families who tell me, "I'm looking for [insert traditional mode of worship here]"? I know why they're saying it. I can't give them what they crave, and they're explaining why they have chosen not to take all this seriously. 

That's a very alluring drug. 

If I just do what everyone else is doing, then I'll have they physical help.
I'm already saying things most local pastors are not saying, and it makes sense. If I just put the other stuff up and away, then I'll finally be accepted as an actual minister.

At the very same time, going into the workforce as something other than a minister has it's allure too. This summer Fig Tree will have existed for a decade. That's a long time to do any form of internet ministry and not throw one's hands up in the air in defeat.  It's not wrong for me to want stability.  

The above picture was me on Easter Sunday.  Let me tell you about this picture.

• The drawing-  I sat down and did that right before worship.  The stone is filled with images of nature. The idea is that Christ defeated death, and by it's very act nature itself. The star has become a symbol for God's promise, and the promise is revealed in the rolling away of the stone. That drawing, all by itself preaches.
• The rock- I made the finger labyrinth back in 2020, as I was exploring worship in new ways. It fits how I feel about Fig Tree as a whole. I have never turned away from the call, but there are times where it feels like I'm walking away. It's a reminder that the journey doesn't happen in a straight line.
• The Stole- I spent 8 months, an hour or two every night, hand knotting that stole. It was a daily act of prayer. That one piece, if I just sold it for minimum wage, would be worth thousands. It was created to be a piece of Fig Tree. I've worn it for brick and mortar churches, and it felt wrong. I wear it for Fig Tree, and know it belongs.  Like so many items I create, it contains a piece of my soul. 

These above pieces are an act of worship.
It's all an act of worship.
Writing is an act of worship. 
Creating music (which I've also done) is an act of worship.
My art is an act of worship.

When I think to all the times people tried to shoehorn me into their definition of what they thought I was, well, it brought me to tears.  Because I can see it now.  I have an extremely close and incredibly diverse relationship with God. To sever any of those connections would be heartbreaking. I can't give it up.

I used to live to make sure I got a post out a week. I'm incredibly self motivated, and it was blasphemy if I couldn't get to the computer and consider something from a Spiritual/Biblical way.

I'm still self motivated, but where I'm feeling motivated is different. 

These past two weeks, I felt a deep desire to give a book I've written one more epic edit. The whole time, feeling like the time was running short to get that done. 

There are days when I have an image in my brain and I just have to create it. I'm feeling like something huge is coming for me, and if I don't get things in order, I'll regret it later.

It's the same feeling I had a Christmas, when I knew I needed to recreate ornaments for the tree.  It was a completion of sorts, and I've made peace with it.

Just the realization that I need to get it done before it's too late.  What is it too late for? I have no earthly idea. I just feel I'm running out of time, and I need to wrap some things up.  It's an urgency that takes me away from the meditations.

My drive has not diminished, it's just focused a bit differently.  I'm still here. I can't give it up. Don't make me give it up.

The whole time I was working on the above piece, I was asking the question, "But what if I could?"

​I knew what I'd draw.  First, a transition from day to night. Second, an explosion of light, that can only be properly experienced when started in darkness. 

This is my imaginary playground.  Every once in awhile, I can see the potential- it explodes out. Then I realize it can't happen, and I'm left with the idea, and no way to do it. See, I am constantly living in the world of "what if," knowing there is little more that I can do. 

I wrote two scriptures into this drawing's foundation.

The first is John 1:1- "In the beginning was the Word, and the world was with God, and the Word was God." It tells the viewer this is still a new creation. You can tell from all the chaos that needs ordering. Beautiful new chaos. This image is exciting in it's potential. This image is fun. There's protection too. The "1:1" looks like 7:7- "The world can’t hate you. It hates me, though, because I testify that its works are evil." A little proof texty, I know- but when you have image to tell a story, you have to tell so much with so little. It speaks to Christ taking the burden.  God's love made known through the new creation.

The second is Luke 13:34- "Jerusalem, Jerusalem. The city that kills the prophets and stones those that are sent to it.  How I've longed to gather your children, like a hen gathers her chicks." That turns this drawing against itself. I told you it was potential.  Jesus' words were potential too. He's speaking to the potential to care and save Jerusalem, knowing they would crucify him in return. Notice the ground. It's a hidden rainbow. She is standing on God's promise. The rainbow was considered God's war bow, pointed away from the earth, but now she's standing on it.

It's so beautiful, but in it's beauty it's sad too.

When I was a child, I wanted to be part of church. The only way I could, was to light the candles at the beginning of church, and be part of the children's moment. 

The children's moment, was a 5 minute mini-sermon given before Communion. The kid's would come up. An adult would tell a story, ask a couple of questions, and sometimes we'd get a treat.

There came a point, where the adults felt I had aged out of the children's moment. To be fair, I was still a kid- 4th grade. They just decided I was done. The problem was, they couldn't keep me from going to the front of the church.  My dad sung in the choir, so no one was there to tell me, "No!"

One of the matriarchs took it upon herself to be that person. She took it upon herself to sit next to me one Sunday. When it came time for the children's moment, she firmly told me no. I ignored her, because she wasn't my dad, and started to go up. She grabbed my arm, and tried to hold me back. In shock and fear, I pulled away.

That was how the church decided to tell me, and I had multiple nightmares about that event throughout the rest of my childhood.

Gals keep other gals from God's promise in a multitude of ways.

Maybe it's under the guise of reciprocity. One generation didn't get something, so a future generation shouldn't have it either. Only the previous group can't see it wasn't fair for them, and in turn, it's not fair now. 

Maybe it's under the guise of justice. "These are the rules and we've been following them for generations."  The matriarch was only enforcing the rules, and her sense of justice gave me nightmares about God's house. But, I've seen the guise of justice being used in other ways too. Maybe it's the way the rules are harsher on women in ministry to prove a point. If one can find a single grain of guilt in a sea of ministry, that's it.  It's stifling. 

Or maybe, just maybe, it's the feeling women get that puts ministry as a limited resource.  The churches only have so many jobs for women in their building. The media only has one woman they can raise up as their spiritual darling. It forces us to fight one another for something God promised abundantly. We lose sight of the fact that me getting it, helps you get it later. You getting it, is celebration, because you getting it helps us all. 

We also become far more critical of one another, because we know that failure speaks to all of us, not just the woman who failed. It's painful, and it's real.

Flipped Mitten Press is a publishing company started by Kristy Burmeister.  She used her words to begin to tell the story of trauma suffered through the institution of Church.

I made this for her. 

She is doing it. She took God's promise and made something with it. She will continue to do so. There is nothing in this image, but love. 

This piece is the entire reason all of this exists. 

I've been spending 12 weeks long-term subbing for high school art class. Whenever I long term sub, I always immerse myself in the content. That's why the pieces look so diverse in their media. With the exception of a few pieces I went home and did because I was inspired, they are all pieces to help me, help the students. This was the first week with Drawing/Painting II. The prompt was "Illuminated pages."  While they took on Fairy Tales, I took on John 1:1-4. 

It's currently hanging in Fig Tree's worship area, and you can see it behind me Sunday mornings. 

This piece lit the flame to get me to explore how to preach without physical words, but with Word.

Oh, I know how uncomfortable this piece is. I can simply explain it, and you should see it differently than you are probably looking at it now.

Their are two images fighting for your focus: Communion and Dead Church.
Communion was broken and made whole. (Notice the mended cup.)
The Church was whole and is now broken.

This is an image of focus. What are you going to focus on? The building that will eventually decay and go back to dust? OR The Communion that is eternal?

I want to end here for a couple of reasons:
First, I don't want to end on Dead Church. I find it to be a solid piece, and I love it, but it's dense, and let's end on a lighter note.
Second, we're ending on life, and that makes this piece perfect.

The image on her brow is one of the Native American symbols for life. 
There are four quadrants, and each quadrant has four meanings.

Child-Youth-Adult-Older Adult
Morning-Midday-Afternoon-Night
Spring-Summer-Fall-Winter
North-South-East-West

There is only one type of person who has fully lived in all four: and older person. 
This person knows all of life.
What I love even more are her wrinkles. As we age, our skin creases in ways that show how we lived. This woman laughed! You can tell from her crows feet.

It’s like Taco Tuesday, but on a Thursday!

This is a continuing Lenten exploration of non-religious artists' take on religion.

This is how I’ve suggested one engages these meditations. 

1. Look at the art without any context. 
2. Read what is written about the artist, the art, and my take.
3. Return to the art with context and see if you view it differently.

​
HOWEVER- This one is a book review. I'll try to keep it spoiler free. I do suggest reading this review AFTER you've read her book.

Apologies: A Somewhat Interactive Poetry Experiment