the beautiful, mangled church

About a month ago I started following a new blog (seeprestonblog.com) which held a series of guest posts called "At The Lord's Table" about the beautiful mangled church.  I loved the series and wanted desperately to join, but couldn't think of a topic worth writing about, that wasn't something already said and expounded upon.

Today I realized what to add to the conversation: how I live everyday in the tension of that beautiful, mangled mess of a church. 

Before college, I couldn't have told you there was a Calendar the church operated on outside of, you know, the normal calendar everyone uses.  In college though, I learned about two seasons in the church, Advent and Lent.  I didn't really get Advent, but Lent I somewhat understood.  

As Ash Wednesday approached this year, I began thinking about what I might give up, what I would sacrifice to help me remember my dependence on God.  Throughout the series on Preston's blog, I read A LOT from people who are members of what would be called High Church (that which is filled with tradition and liturgy).  It got me thinking about that liturgy, specifically the Book of Common Prayer.  Now, before a few days ago, I had never seen one of these and couldn't tell you how it worked if my life depended on it.  But I decided that as a part of Lent I would give up the free, completely unstructured way in which I usually approach God.  I was going to add the Book of Common Prayer (BCP) to my daily routine.

Side Note: Finding a copy of the BCP to buy was near impossible where I live.  I called Christian bookstores, APU's bookstore, my local Barne's & Noble, and finally the closest Episcopal church.  The nearest copy for purchase was in downtown LA, about 50 miles from where I live.  I think the West Coast is somewhat allergic to liturgy. 

Figuring out how to use this book was the most challenging thing I've ever done!  Okay, that's an exaggeration, but it was still prettty confusing. They use all these words I've never heard before, at least not in the context of prayer and devotion. But I've finally got it, thanks in large part to a VERY helpful blog series.  

And here, reading (and LOVING) the daily office, but planted and growing and cherishing my very free, non-denominational church home, I find myself.  Living in the mess, acknowledging how varied the Christian church is in my own being.  But I think the mess makes it richer.  It breathes a certain type of fullness into me.  I am learning to embrace traditions I didn't know existed while at the same time growing tremendously in an almost charismatic non-denominational church. 

The church is mangled and messy, but it is so beautiful because of that mess!  Christ didn't die so we could all be the same.  He died so we could be in relationship with him, so that our sin wouldn't keep us from his presence.  Varied expression in that relationship makes the body of Christ simply beautiful. 

Creating

Some people are really good with words.  They seem to know exactly what to say, which words to use.  In comparison to those people I usually tend to label myself as “visual” because words don’t ever come that easily to me.

But then there are those people who are really good at pictures.  Who create images that express so much, that validate the saying “A picture is worth a thousand words.” Compared to those people though, I’m not as visual as I sometimes think I am. I cannot create vision like they can. 

And so I find myself in this place.  Where what I create isn’t nearly good enough to be compared with that of a writer or an artist.

For the longest time I would have said that I wasn’t creative.  That I couldn't come up with stories or pictures that were worth anything.  And while I still can’t, I don’t say that anymore.  I know there must be something that I am good at, something that I create that is worth creating.

I am more than my ability to organize and complete administrative tasks.  Unfortunately I don’t know what that more is.  I don’t know what I contribute to the world, to society.  And I may never know.  But I do know that the God who created me did it right.  And that means I am exactly how I am supposed to be.  Even if I don’t get it, and sometimes feel inferior, I am right. 


And even more, I know that he has redeemed me.  That my faulty attempts at creating something worthwhile are made better by him.  That he uses my work to accomplish his purposes.  How crazy.  How insane.  How magnificent.  

Sometimes that is all that I cling to, all I hope in.  That my God loves me and made me this way. And that is good.

(photo credit: laurennicolewrites.com)