The Long Haul

Our pastor asked us in the congregation to submit a paragraph or a page on the theme of transformational communities--I suppose testimonies of how we’ve experienced transformation in our lives individually and corporately. I have no idea if this is the kind of thing he was looking for, but this is what I wrote.

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I’ve been a part of the community called City Church of East Nashville for just over five years now. From my medium-term perspective, I feel like I’ve seen as many things not change as change.

I’ve seen my own heart, calcified with bitterness and anger, be softened overnight--some miracle of God’s mercy that I certainly didn’t instigate.

I’ve seen a covenant community share life with a family in poverty, to some degree of mutuality, and the difference that can make in one girl’s life as she grows up in the church.

I’ve seen people (myself included, I hope) grow in knowing their sin and their Savior all the more. Grow in prayer and repentance as a community. Grow in love and service and interdependence. Grow as a Gospel community.

I’ve also seen the dividing boundaries of us and them persist.

And I’ve seen the racial diversity of the church more or less stay the same as when I first came, attracted as I was by the mission statement that I saw online about “reconciling the diversity of East Nashville.”

Marriages and divorces. Births and deaths. People coming in and moving on. Pretty much everything in Ecclesiastes 3.

I think we do well as a community in weeping with one another as well as rejoicing with one another. In pointing each other to look to Jesus in order to glorify the Savior together.

And while so many things look the same as they did five years ago, I don’t lament that terribly right now. So much heart change isn’t necessarily evident at first glance. Seeds planted that may not show yet. Some sow, others reap, and we enter into each other’s labors.

Sara Groves has a song called “The Long Defeat”:

I have joined the long defeat

that falling set in motion

and all my strength and energy

are raindrops in the ocean

I can't just fight when I think I'll win

that's the end of all belief

and nothing has provoked it more

than a possible defeat

and I pray for a vision

and a way I cannot see

it's too heavy to carry

and impossible to leave

I guess that’s part of what I feel about being in it for the long haul. Praying and laboring the unseen kingdom into the here and now of our daily lives.

In the meantime, in the waiting and in the working, as I wrestle with all the false gods and idols that maybe, just maybe, might fix my life this time (not true, thank God), I find myself in a community that reminds me that Jesus is real. He is my portion. He is the Lover that I long for. To Him be all glory, in this place and all places, forever and ever.

Affirmation / Negation

There's a balance, a scale.

On one side: "Life is great! Things are looking up!"

On the other side: "Life sucks! This is never going to get any better!"

And I'm pushing down on the good side.

But all the while I'm sitting on the other side.


Church is happening now and I'm at home. I never know how far into the service I'll make it before I can't take it anymore and have to leave. Today I made it to the second song. Sometimes I get as far as the offering, or even the sermon and Communion. I don't remember the last full service that I made it through--I guess it was a few weeks ago when I was on the worship team (blah). I've had rehearsals and gigs the last couple Sundays, too, so that was a welcome excuse not to make it to church at all.

I feel like God has been pouring out blessings in my life this last month or so--the tangible, easy to grasp kind of blessings. Good time spent with friends, some great music, fun movies, cool art, even a bit of unexpected French. I also have a biweekly Sunday brunch + book club with a few guys from church, which is very much a blessing.

But there are other things. Unresolved things for which I don't have any hope for resolution anytime soon. Things I don't feel like I can talk about with anybody (including my pastor), for various reasons. And so I dread Sundays:

Step 1: Go to church.
Step 2: Get overwhelmed and freak out.
Step 3: Leave early and come home.
Step 4: Have a one-sided, closed-minded, lie-believing, self-defeating screaming match with God.
Step 5: Settle down and breathe again.

"The gift is not like the trespass." Christ's work is greater than Adam's (and my) sin. But these days I have a tendency to turn the lesser gifts and blessings into curses. Much worldly sorrow.

Music is one of my lifelines, for sure, my current drug of choice. (TV, too--as I wrote on our fridge with some magnetic poetry words: "TV is my junk anesthetic")

People are reaching out to me. God is speaking comfort and conviction and truth from a variety of sources. I just don't really want it right now. Or I want it to sound a little different--on my terms. I'm still angry, and bitter, and hurt, and broken, and sad, and afraid, about those aforementioned things. Things that feel insurmountable, too big for Jesus to make right, at least anytime soon. My daily reality is more defined by my pain than by my Redeemer. I'm not letting go and getting over it. I don't really want to engage with God. I don't want to read Scripture. I don't want to pray. I am being willful, stubborn, and self-destructive, and my focus isn't on Jesus.

But I'm like a runaway child who can only run as far as the next block, and then he just sits there, wondering what to do next. Too much is true for me to abandon my faith. Too much feels hypocritical and painful for me to feel like I have a place in this community anymore.

But my self-righteousness is a false shelter. I do want things to get better, and there are moments when I feel my hard heart melting. But then certain triggers will just re-open the wounds, and I don't want to do the work of paying it down over and over and over again. Looking back on the last couple years, I couldn't have planned it to be more messy than it is. It's uncanny.

But really, the historical details aren't the most important part. The question is whether or not I believe that God loves me deeply deeply, that Jesus is everything that I need, that grace is there for the healing. I do have some hope that God's pursuing love will save me, set me free. But I think it will be a very bumpy road, and so in the meantime...?

Work

So, I have a job, one that I've had for a little over a year now, minus my escapades in Vermont last summer. Technically my current job is part-time, but it's more or less the standard 9 to 5 with some wiggle room, and it pays the bills. I feel like music is definitely another job for me, as it is for a whole ton of folks here in Nashville ("Music City," we call ourselves), where I'm sometimes putting in upwards of 10-15 hours in a given week for prep and rehearsal and gigging when it's busy. Plus the things I do for my church--another few hours a week, and generally pretty much always in the back of my mind. Everybody's (hopefully) got those things in their lives that are fruitful labors, monetarily remunerated or not, juggled together with everything else that fills up the hours and days--rest/sleep, cook/eat, play soccer, read, socialize, do nothing time--let alone be married and raise a family for some of you all.

The idea was floated out there of paying me a bit for the things that I do for church, especially as the reponsibilities (and stress) have grown a bit the last few months compared to the stuff I started with last fall. I haven't figured that one out yet--the whole idea of Paul's having the rights of an apostle to earn his living off the Gospel, but choosing not to so that the Gospel would be free to all (I Corinthians 9). This isn't exactly that situation, but I haven't figured it out yet. I mean, I've certainly accepted honorariums in the past for the work I've done for and with my two home churches in Vermont, leading worship or directing the choir for a season. And that felt right, I appreciated their gestures of thanks for my labors at the end of those seasons, and because those churches were small, I felt like it came from each of the congregations as a whole as a gift back to me. But if it were to be a regular weekly paid job-esque thing, hmm...

If this were the kind of blog that solicited comments, here's where I'd say, "So what do you all think?" But, alas, it is not. And I like the illusion of not knowing exactly who's reading this and then being pleasantly surprised when someone mentions it to me. I mean, it's out there and public, I know, and I have no qualms about that. But since I feel more comfortable with my online community (facebook, myspace, blog) reflecting my real-life (offline? non-cyberspace? supra-virtual?) community, you all for the most part know how to reach me by other means anyways.

Not that you need to, that's really just a side point and a corollary to the fact that I am a late adopter to new technologies.

That is all. Back to work, in one or more of its various guises.

Lest I Forget

Little reminders that I need to be present more than I need to be blogging. Neat conversations with one of my house mates. Had a chance to share why I love my church so much--the focus on ministering to the local neighborhood we inhabit and the benevolence work toward justice in the society around us, laboring to both meet immediate needs and address deeper root causes of injustice; the intentionality of the liturgy and how there's time for people to read and consider texts before choosing whether or not to participate in corporate recitations and prayers and Communion, for example; and just the amazing community of people, such dear friends who have made Nashville home for me in a lot of ways. I said how much I loved my church, and he remarked that he could see my face light up just talking about it.

I realized after the conversation, though, that more importantly than those things I just listed is the fact that I really hear and experience the Gospel steadily with my church family--inside and outside of Sunday services. I need to hear it every day. I need to know that I am a wretched, broken mess (though this is usually an easier truth for me to grasp without so much prompting). And I desperately need to know that I do have a great Savior for my great need, that I have a God who is for me, for the sake of His Son, Jesus Christ, that hope has a real and true foundation. I need to hear it every day.

My friend Steve up in Boston has a nice post to this end that I found really encouraging. Here was another person, a dear friend, preaching the Gospel to me, words that I need to hear for life. I need to remember that for whenever I might be sharing with my house mates these things of my life that carry me through struggles and offer the best of joy and comfort and peace in the midst of suffering a fallen world. More than all the other genuinely amazing things about my church, I need the Gospel. I need to hear it and know it's true over and over and over again.