Getting Used to the Changes

As I have mentioned, I was raised in the Church of the Nazarene. So, becoming Lutheran has taken some time getting used to. Maybe that's why I was drawn to such an atypically Lutheran church? The Church of the Nazarene is not liturgical at all. The service is ordered, but it's more like--opening prayer, a couple of hymns, a prayer chorus, offering, special music, the sermon, an altar call, closing prayer, go home.

I'm pretty low church. That might be weird for a Lutheran to say. I'm also not sacramental. I like observing the Lord's Supper each week, not because I sense a particular presence in the elements (though I like to talk about "real presence" when I am with my mom--just to make her squirm!). It's because I think it's a great sign of Christian community for everyone to come forward and share a meal. (I've probably been influenced by my anabaptist doctoral advisor)

I'm not so sure about infant baptism, but not for the usual reasons against it. I want to give my child the chance to decide what religion they want to be a part of. I will raise him or her in the Christian faith, and I hope they find that story compelling. Yet, to baptize them into the faith seems a bit...forceful, imperialistic, etc. Then again, baptism for Lutherans is a sign that God has chosen you--not that you have chosen God. Still, even with my universalist tendencies, I have reservations in saying "God chose you whether you like it or not." Honestly, I'm not sure what to make of it.

Recently, I have been confronted by another thing within the ELCA: the idea of bound conscience. The way I understand this is that the church can make a policy, but that individuals and congregations do not have to go against what they believe in order to follow it. Those who wish to follow it can, and those who are opposed to it can remain in their belief and practices as they are.

This idea of freedom is not something Nazarenes know about. Basically, the men at the top decide what is best and people follow it. You don't have a choice. If you disagree with it, too bad so sad. My own feelings about this freedom are conflicted. On one hand, this freedom allows (mostly) men from deciding for everyone else in a forceful way. On the other hand, how can the practices of churches be transformed when they are able to remain stuck in their ways?

As I mentioned, my doctoral advisor is anabaptist. Baptist polity is congregational polity--each congregation decides their path, beliefs, practices, etc. My advisor calls this "the glorious freedom of the children of God." Put like that it's hard to deny that it's a good thing. She explains to me that in alternative polities, things can be great when leadership at the top pass down good, live-giving policies. However, when things aren't so good at the top, you have problems.

I see this; I understand this. Yet, in the recent decision by the ELCA to allow for the ordination of gays and lesbians in monogamous, life-long relationships, people are not pushed to change and be challenged. A lot of people are celebrating; a lot of people are protesting. But really, what does this change in policy do, more than provide a safety net against censure to those churches that want to call a gay or lesbian minister and an affirming nod to those gay and lesbians who feel called into ministry and support Lutheran doctrine and theology? Freedom is good; bound conscience is good. But this radical, left-leaning, all-or-nothing girl wants something more extreme. My passion is my gift and my downfall.

Perhaps I am putting too much stock in the transformative potential of policy. True transformation comes from the Holy Spirit. I believe that. I just hope we are all sensitive to the transformative nudges the Spirit brings.

Sorting through some things

I am starting this blog because I need to sort through some things. But first, some background:

I was raised in the Church of the Nazarene. I went to a Nazarene university for two degrees, and, at one point was planning to become ordained in the Nazarene church. Through series of events (that may come up later), I decided pastoral ministry wasn't for me; my place was in the academy.

I ended up a bit (okay...very) dispossessed and really wanted no part of church and all of it's ugliness. Finally, I did want to go back to church, but never could find the right one. After a few years, my husband B and I started attending a Lutheran (ELCA) congregation. The service was a contemporary/informal service, still far more formal than church growing up. However, the liturgy, while relaxed, was very present.

We moved, and I felt strangely sad about leaving that church--a place I felt could have been a church home for me. We tried various Lutheran (ELCA) churches in the area and none felt "right." So, we decided to try one I had heard of, even though it was a bit further away. We liked it. It was unlike any Lutheran church we had attended. There was a full band; they sang contemporary songs. There was no organ. The congregation didn't do responsive readings or creeds in a robotic voice. And when the time came for communion, they said all were welcomed regardless of denominational background or faith journey. Which meant, I could take the Lord's Supper even though I had never been baptized.

We quickly got involved in a small group, one called 20-somethings--young adults, mainly couples. It was nice to know other people more than passing the peace to the same person each week. These people became friends--something I had not truly had in quite a while. They were genuine in their love of God. Going to church, for them, was more than something you do because it's socially acceptable or a way to network. At the same time, they were not slaves to legalism. They sometimes used curse words. They drank beer. No, they weren't drunken and vulgar. They were human. I needed this.

Last October, I was baptized. I joined my ELCA congregation and I accepted what God had already done for me in Christ. My small group members were my sponsors, and I officially made my switch to the ELCA.

For a long time, I have tried not to be too enmeshed in the Lutheran denominational structure. I saw the ugly side of denominational politics in the Church of the Nazarene--both in the general church and at the local level. I wanted no part. However, the Lutheran (ELCA) church recently held their Church Wide Assembly and I had received a heads up that they were discussing some big issues, largely around human sexuality, both generally and how it pertains to clergy. I was encouraged that they were having this conversation--a conversation that would have never taken place in my former denomination. I became fascinated by the meetings and votes, and before I knew it--I knew more than I wanted to about the ELCA.

So, now, I am asking myself a lot of questions--questions that I don't necessarily want to share with my small group members and those at my church. These questions are why does my local church consider itself Lutheran when Lutheran theology and liturgical practice are absent? Do I want a local church that is "good enough" and has been great in getting me back into church? Is it okay that my church is generically Christian--almost non-denominational (minus the sign out front)? Or do I want something that is more distinctly Lutheran, and if so, what does this mean for me? Perhaps more importantly, what does this mean for me and my husband, who is comfortable where we attend church, now? How do we blend the spiritual, emotional, and intellectual needs of both of us, even when those may be very different?*

These are the things I need to explore. Will you take the journey with me?

*I am working on my PhD in systematic theology. In saying "intellectual needs," I am not trying to think of myself as somehow smarter or more intellectually capable. However, by nature, I am a critical theological thinker. How can we address my need to be critical and have *good* theology at church and my husband's position as lay person with average theological knowledge and interest.