I just finished reading a great book, Death by Suburb by Dave Goetz. An intriguing title, the subtitle grabs me even more: "How to Keep the Suburbs from Killing Your Soul."
This is a great book--Goetz, who lives in Wheaton, where I used to live and went to school, describes suburban life to a tee. He trains a keen eye on both the struggle and irony of the competitive, consumeristic, pressured, hurried life that is not only the typical suburbanite's life, but his own life. (He admits to being a sometimes over-enthusiastic soccer dad, and to owning both the quintessential suburban vehicle, an SUV, and the quintessential suburban dog, a Golden Retriever).
He recommends spiritual practices to counter-act the "environmental toxins" of suburban life; practices that range from the traditional solitude and self-examination to ones that address specific suburban problems. For example, he writes, to counter the toxin of "My church is the problem," a common malady of the suburban consumer mindset, he recommends the practice of "Staying put in your church."
This particular chapter came at an opportune time for me. I am not a church hopper. I've been a part of the same local church for 21 years. the fact that it happens to be one of the largest churches in America doesn't really matter to me--it's home. But this week, I was wrestling with whether it is where I really belong. I had spoken up about some problems I saw in our church, and I probably did not use as much diplomacy in expressing my concerns as I should have. (okay, that's an understatement. I was pretty harsh, and spent the night vacillating between guilt and anger at being misunderstood)
That night, as I wondered if I really should stay at my church of 21 years, I read Goetz's words, which were, at that moment, God's message to my heart:
"At its best, the local church functions as an arena in which conflict and hurts among participants who choose to stay can open up possibilities for spiritual progress. Where else will people still accept me after I stand up in a church meeting and harshly criticize something? 'ah, that's just Dave,' they say. They know me. I learn about the Christian virtutes of acceptance and graciousness even when I am not accepting and gracious."
This author's story was my story. I was the one who had stood up and criticized, rather harshly. And yet, as one of my friends at church told me a few days later, "your circle is not broken."
When we practice perserverance, and stay connected at one church long term, we get to experience grace in a way that we wouldn't otherwise. We get the chance to mess up, and not hide. And thus, experience grace and forgiveness.
I love when my life and books collide, when God speaks to me through someone I don't even know.
This is a great book--Goetz, who lives in Wheaton, where I used to live and went to school, describes suburban life to a tee. He trains a keen eye on both the struggle and irony of the competitive, consumeristic, pressured, hurried life that is not only the typical suburbanite's life, but his own life. (He admits to being a sometimes over-enthusiastic soccer dad, and to owning both the quintessential suburban vehicle, an SUV, and the quintessential suburban dog, a Golden Retriever).
He recommends spiritual practices to counter-act the "environmental toxins" of suburban life; practices that range from the traditional solitude and self-examination to ones that address specific suburban problems. For example, he writes, to counter the toxin of "My church is the problem," a common malady of the suburban consumer mindset, he recommends the practice of "Staying put in your church."
This particular chapter came at an opportune time for me. I am not a church hopper. I've been a part of the same local church for 21 years. the fact that it happens to be one of the largest churches in America doesn't really matter to me--it's home. But this week, I was wrestling with whether it is where I really belong. I had spoken up about some problems I saw in our church, and I probably did not use as much diplomacy in expressing my concerns as I should have. (okay, that's an understatement. I was pretty harsh, and spent the night vacillating between guilt and anger at being misunderstood)
That night, as I wondered if I really should stay at my church of 21 years, I read Goetz's words, which were, at that moment, God's message to my heart:
"At its best, the local church functions as an arena in which conflict and hurts among participants who choose to stay can open up possibilities for spiritual progress. Where else will people still accept me after I stand up in a church meeting and harshly criticize something? 'ah, that's just Dave,' they say. They know me. I learn about the Christian virtutes of acceptance and graciousness even when I am not accepting and gracious."
This author's story was my story. I was the one who had stood up and criticized, rather harshly. And yet, as one of my friends at church told me a few days later, "your circle is not broken."
When we practice perserverance, and stay connected at one church long term, we get to experience grace in a way that we wouldn't otherwise. We get the chance to mess up, and not hide. And thus, experience grace and forgiveness.
I love when my life and books collide, when God speaks to me through someone I don't even know.
