Thursday, June 20, 2013
"Dr. J's Field Guide: TEENS 101, Fall Out or Fall Under" Backstage with Dr. Laurie Johnson, LPC
Some days, I find myself hoping that this is the day I get reviewed by the universe. Today was one of those days. I published my book, Dr. J's Field Guide: TEENS 101, on Amazon. I took a stand. I said, don't you dare throw out your teen, because of her pregnancy or his homosexuality. I called out parents for being wounders and anger-feeders. I bashed the stupid term, "troubled child." I stung teachers and coaches who use "gay" "girls" and "sissies" as slurs or "motivators."I also came down hard on the affluent cliques at my kids' school. Do I expect fallout? Sure. But, if that means there is one less shovel of dirt to fall in a grave of a bullycide or anorexic teen--so be it.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
"Parenting Experts?" Backstage with Dr. Laurie Johnson, LPC
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| Dr. T. Berry Braselton's advice got me through teen parenting: "Do the best you can, then try to make up for it!" |
Yesterday, while waiting for news about my ankle unhappiness, known as PTTD, but better understood as the painful consequence of my "rubber band sagging" around that joint, I watched a bit o'TV in the doctor's office. I tried to swallow my scoffing, as a visibly affluent gentleman was interviewed about his new release regarding "Happy Parenting" but I was probably unsuccessful in disguising my mift-ness. Possibly I was confused for a patient in the middle of an allergy snurful.
Why was I scoffing? Do I fail to appreciate the need for guidance to make parenting effective and families happy? Quite the contrary! I'm a huge believer in parent guidance and child welfare and enrichment. What I scoffed about was the tone of complete command and confidence aired by the author, who is a father. A father of two girls. Adoring, young, playful girls who probably still view him on a pedestal. A pedestal that appeared mahogany, if not teak.
Why my low level fandom?
Because parenting insights are best given by veterans--not by rookies. Rookies don't believe Precious will ever slam the door with a shrill "I never loved you!" Rookies are sure that sullen silence is for the neighbors who "screwed up" by neglecting to have weekly family conference.
Granted, I'm about to finish writing my own book about parenting adolescents. And I have the scar tissue, kleenex tissue, and tissue-thick ego that remains after parenting, in my case, four teenagers at the same time.
Had I written a parenting book during that honeymoon phase of parenting (birth til "I'll do what I want to do" around age 13) I'm sure I'd look more zippy, sound more bold, and care about my socks matching.
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| Parenting this age is a cinch! |
As it is, I still have zip. I'm even more bold about certain things. And I don't have to worry about my socks matching, because I learned that the surgery to get my rubber band fixed would take 8 months on crutches with major risk of depression issues, explained my doc.
Which means... I can wear whatever color socks I want as I continue on the rocky path of parenthood and as I continue to thank God for the unimaginable gift of motherhood. I'll also be thanking him that I don't have to cringe when I walk past what would have been my rookie version of a parenting book on our book shelf.
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Urgent Love: Ode to Steve Peifer by Dr. Laurie Johnson, LPC
Lately, I've been wrestling with how best I can chronical my faith journey for those who still scratch their heads in dismay that the former president of the Baptist Student Union at Shorter College went Roman. Catholic, as in. In fact, yesterday was my 12th anniversary of that decision. Meanwhile, Steve Peifer is briefly touring the U.S. sharing his story of "A Dream So Big" that has just been released by Zondervan. How we come to our faith matters, so I'm going to keep working on a crumb trail that might lead people to the church of Steve's childhood. Meanwhile, he's going to keep sharing about a God
so big that He can send three sons to change this world: Jesus, to redeem it, a tiny baby named Stephen to stretch open Steve's heart and soul, and a grown son named Steve whose heart for young Kenyans--concern for their nutrition, their education, and their future via the capacity to acquire marketable computer skills is changing their world. His urgent love compelled him to create and sustain ways to feed school kids
in mind, body, and spirit. He's done an incredible job of that, in the company of three great sons, in the loving memory of another son, and with his beautiful bride and daughter. Reminding me that finding God really matters, but living a life where people old and young see the Father in your eyes and at work through your loving arms----that's what it is all about.
so big that He can send three sons to change this world: Jesus, to redeem it, a tiny baby named Stephen to stretch open Steve's heart and soul, and a grown son named Steve whose heart for young Kenyans--concern for their nutrition, their education, and their future via the capacity to acquire marketable computer skills is changing their world. His urgent love compelled him to create and sustain ways to feed school kids
in mind, body, and spirit. He's done an incredible job of that, in the company of three great sons, in the loving memory of another son, and with his beautiful bride and daughter. Reminding me that finding God really matters, but living a life where people old and young see the Father in your eyes and at work through your loving arms----that's what it is all about.
"Developmental Psychologist Reviews Religion" Backstage with Dr. Laurie Johnson, LPC
Choices...
Laurie D. Johnson, Ph.D., LPC ©
Do you enjoy hearing about peoples' childhood, about where they grew up, and how they fell in love? I do. I marvel that our stories combine details that are utterly unique with experiences that are achingly universal.
That's because I love the human spirit. I'm inspired by the efforts people make to figure out this thing called life. What is the meaning of life? Have you met many people who have wrestled with this question and have questioned the answers offered by others? I'm lucky to say I have. But then, I seek them out!
Recently, I was in a nostalgic mood, reflecting on my journey in life and the people I've met who had a major impact on how I look at life. I reminisced about special relationships I've had in different churches. It made me smile.
Do you remember how you chose your church? Maybe it was the little country church your parents and grandparents attended, or even founded. Maybe it was the "compromise denomination" that your parents could agree on, because they came into marriage with differing loyalties. Maybe it was close enough to walk to, or the one to which someone kindly offered you a ride.
Maybe it was the one attended by a cute boy, or a beautiful girl. Maybe it was the one with a magnificent choir. Maybe it was one with a friendly choir, so friendly that they let you and your pitchy voice join them. Maybe it was a dynamic preacher who grabbed you by the gills. Or a youth program that outshone all the other ones in town.
Maybe it was the thrill of a stunning multimedia setup that immersed you in music and graphics and lyrics wherever you sat in the mammoth auditorium. Maybe it was the church that sent someone to visit you, to personally invite you to their fold. Maybe it was the one with a great men's group or a welcoming ladies circle. Maybe it had the best trips and events for Senior citizens. Maybe it was the one that offered a preschooler program during the week, where you could sit, encrusted with cheerios, just to talk, feel loved, and use big words! Or maybe it was your mother-in-law's church and you hoped you'd earn brownie points for attending!
Maybe it was the one with a great basketball program--for kids (or weekend warriors!) Maybe it was the one that sponsored a 5K or took the teens on an uber popular ski trip.
It is interesting to think about how we choose things. Like a church. Or, let's say, your doctor. I can tell you, I chose my dentist for his laughing gas. Forget that he's keenly intelligent, warm, and impressively well read. He offers nitrous oxide so he got my vote.
Do you enjoy hearing about peoples' childhood, about where they grew up, and how they fell in love? I do. I marvel that our stories combine details that are utterly unique with experiences that are achingly universal.
That's because I love the human spirit. I'm inspired by the efforts people make to figure out this thing called life. What is the meaning of life? Have you met many people who have wrestled with this question and have questioned the answers offered by others? I'm lucky to say I have. But then, I seek them out!
Recently, I was in a nostalgic mood, reflecting on my journey in life and the people I've met who had a major impact on how I look at life. I reminisced about special relationships I've had in different churches. It made me smile.
Do you remember how you chose your church? Maybe it was the little country church your parents and grandparents attended, or even founded. Maybe it was the "compromise denomination" that your parents could agree on, because they came into marriage with differing loyalties. Maybe it was close enough to walk to, or the one to which someone kindly offered you a ride.
Maybe it was the one attended by a cute boy, or a beautiful girl. Maybe it was the one with a magnificent choir. Maybe it was one with a friendly choir, so friendly that they let you and your pitchy voice join them. Maybe it was a dynamic preacher who grabbed you by the gills. Or a youth program that outshone all the other ones in town.
Maybe it was the thrill of a stunning multimedia setup that immersed you in music and graphics and lyrics wherever you sat in the mammoth auditorium. Maybe it was the church that sent someone to visit you, to personally invite you to their fold. Maybe it was the one with a great men's group or a welcoming ladies circle. Maybe it had the best trips and events for Senior citizens. Maybe it was the one that offered a preschooler program during the week, where you could sit, encrusted with cheerios, just to talk, feel loved, and use big words! Or maybe it was your mother-in-law's church and you hoped you'd earn brownie points for attending!
Maybe it was the one with a great basketball program--for kids (or weekend warriors!) Maybe it was the one that sponsored a 5K or took the teens on an uber popular ski trip.
It is interesting to think about how we choose things. Like a church. Or, let's say, your doctor. I can tell you, I chose my dentist for his laughing gas. Forget that he's keenly intelligent, warm, and impressively well read. He offers nitrous oxide so he got my vote.
What about your doctor? I chose my internist on the basis of reputation and rapport. Unfortunately, the rapport I desire is more chummy than beneficial. For example, he ignores my weight gain, lack of exercise, cancer optional diet, and my neglect of a colonoscopy. I'm dumb to prefer his doctoring to that of a different physician who would be on my case and get me ten more years of quality living... but I do. Proving that sometimes, our judgment is not the best. Also, that our comfort bone will sell out our good sense bone in a heartbeat. Even when that might cost us a beating heart in the end.
Maybe, you are feeling quite satisfied about how judiciously you chose your doctor. Good for you! We should treasure and preserve our physical health. To that end, we probably need more engaged doctors in health care and fewer docs who neglect to inquire about smoking habits, alcohol consumption, prescription drug abuse, and poorly explained bruises.
Maybe, you are feeling quite satisfied about how judiciously you chose your doctor. Good for you! We should treasure and preserve our physical health. To that end, we probably need more engaged doctors in health care and fewer docs who neglect to inquire about smoking habits, alcohol consumption, prescription drug abuse, and poorly explained bruises.
It takes a certain compassion and chutzpah to address tough or painful topics. But, better some awkward moments with your trusted family doctor than dead silence that is permanent, don't you agree?
After all, we turn to our doctor because he or she is extensively trained in knowledge and skills beyond our own. He or she has gone through years of preparation and formation and examination to become qualified to be our advisor. They've taken an oath to "Do no harm" and to dignify our needs from the womb to the tomb.
A desire to be a doctor and to don a white coat and title do not suffice--it takes years and years of education, residency, scrutiny, and cross examination to forge doctors who are equipped to stand between life and death for us. I wouldn't want to put my life or welfare in the hands of someone who cut corners or who designated himself as a healer or physician!
It is understandable that anyone would be drawn to the nobility and prestige of being a doctor. But there are names for people who assign themselves that status who haven't gone through the gauntlet of medical school. Two that I can think of are "fraud" and "criminal," because that is how seriously we regard the sanctity of human health and medical ethics. It would be a rather scary world if medical titles were presented on the basis of popularity, charisma, or one's last name, wouldn't it?!
But, what about your spiritual health? Has it been helped or harmed by organized religion? I'd have to answer "Yes." I've been blessed and I've been beaten up by churches.
Thankfully, the Creator and I are on good terms and we can laugh about that now, without my bursting out in sobs. What a relief that is. If you've ever been hit by a church (or congregation) and been dragged 200 feet through notorious grape vines and zealous prayer chains, you know what I'm talking about. Most likely, God has countless reasons to weep over His encounters with humans. But He hasn't vented to me about that, yet. Maybe I haven't let Him get a sob in edgewise...
Suffice it to say, I've been Teen leader in three Presbyterian churches, President of the Baptist Student Union at a Southern Baptist college, an adult leader in the Episcopal church, Junior staff for Campus Crusade for Christ, and College mentor for a Young Life high school group with over a hundred teens involved. You could say I have some credibility when it comes to church life and denominational exposure...
Recently, the Catholic church has been in the news a lot, what with retirement of a pope and the election of a new one. This has provided the media with plenty of opportunities to rehash its scandals, scoff at its medieval morals, protest its anti-feminist stance, rebuke its politically incorrect views, and scorn its anti-gay marriage stance.
Granted, jaded broadcasters appeared to be taken aback temporarily, by an endearing, humble guy taking on the name and rawness of St. Francis, but pretty soon they returned to glumping everything evil onto the Church and its deplorable policies and failures. Identified failures that are notable for two reasons of interest. First, because one would think molestation is uncommitted by Protestant pastors or youth leaders.
Second, because only the Catholic church has a home office that now screens personnel and monitors child/adult contact to a degree barely achieved by DFCS. Still, transparency in the Church about heinous crimes committed by humans has caused the world to believe Protestant halls and homes are free of abuse and molestation because molesters are contained within the Catholic church and penitentiaries, it appears.
It appears. What a lovely and dangerous phrase. It appears you have a malignant tumor. It appears the flight has been cancelled. It appears we've been hacked.
Going back to the question of how did you chose your church. It appears there was something that appealed to you. Perhaps a welcoming congregation. Maybe great preaching. Maybe a charismatic pastor. Maybe a chance to zone out for at least one hour a week or to hear live music. Maybe the hope of getting a surrogate family. Maybe a hope that attending church would patch up your marriage or straighten out your kid...
Do you go to a church? Do you belong to one? Does it belong to you? Have you ever left a church? Been told to leave one? Been asked not to come back?
Have you seen one grow from modest to mega? Have you been in one that tore itself into pieces and factions? Maybe you used to be a church goer. Funny way to describe something, isn't it? Never considered myself a school goer or a store goer or a baseball game goer. Wonder if that means something.
Do you recall why you quit going? Bad vibes? Fell out with the preacher or with one the powerful committee members or staff members? Maybe you felt slighted. You didn't seem to warrant a hospital visit or a phone call when things were difficult. You got left out. Or maybe you never fit in.
Maybe they needed you as a nursery worker more than they wanted you as a parishioner. Maybe you stepped on a deacon's or vestry member's or elder' s toe and it felt better to stay home. Or maybe you tried another church, only to get the same old-same old.
As I said, I've been a zealous leader in several churches and in different denominations. I've actually been requested to leave a church! After living through three bloody splits (in a Southern Baptist church, an Episcopal church, and a Presbyterian church) I decided God must have had a better plan than what I'd experienced.
I spent a full year investigating world history, church history, religiosity, and theology. The only thing I went took into my exploration was the certainty that the answer would not be the Mary-worshipping, tell-you-what-to-believe, ritual ridden, opulent cathedral'd Catholic church. Famous last words.
As former Presbyterian scholar Scott Hahn described his journey, I, too, found that historical facts led me into a horror story that trailed into a mystery, and ended up a love story. A love story that required my full surrender. It did not allow me to practice "cafeteria line Christianity" where I was free to pick and choose morals or values according to how they suit my pallet or pad my wallet or enhance my image. It doesn't conform to what's politically correct or chic, or deemed progressive. It doesn't grant me the option to pick which Commandments I want to keep and which ones I want to retire from the list.
So, it asked of me surrender, in order to trust that the Great Shepherd could keep the flock he called, over twenty centuries, despite sin, madness, mayhem, heresy, corruption, martyrdom, modernity, and mockery.
Then, it asked of me personal ministry. Yes, this is no spectator sport. Every single member is gifted with a ministry--- be it teacher, mechanic, chef, or stockbroker! And the discerning of that gift and its maximum expression requires a specific question: am I best equipped to fulfill this independently or in a partnership? And if through partnership, with a mate or with a brotherhood or sisterhood?
I'll never forget being a zealous convert still dripping with former individualism, sympathizing with a priest because he couldn't know the joy of mate and children and family. He swiftly corrected me and explained that he knew the joy of family life--multiplied--by each one of his parish posts! Secondly, he clarified that his "cup was full" differently than mine, but no less than mine. His joy and radiance bore witness to his words.
Unfortunately, these days, celibacy and religious life are rarely considered an option for joy or for connectedness. Yet I can tell you, after counseling over 4000 couples, marriage is no guaranty of fulfillment or joy (or unbroken vows).
These days, sexual activity is considered vital to self-expression. Despite jokes and facts about sexual under satisfaction among singles and marrieds, it is still sought as life's great tonic (often from partners who consider it life's big headache!)
For Catholics, marriage is meant to be a vocational choice much more than a romantic or sexual one. When it is, and it results in passionate service to others, empowered by seven sacraments, it not only supercharges the bedroom, it brings children into a strong, loving nest.
Perhaps the time will come, when sexual bonding will take its place behind the bonding of souls in higher purposes. In pursuits far surpassing self-gratification.
Ironically (or not) the most epic love stories are often those of self-sacrifice, self-restraint and triumph ( Les Miserables, for one.)
I can only imagine that through the centuries, to this day, countless people have married the wrong persons. Countless people have married for the wrong reasons. And I grieve that countless people over the centuries have cheated themselves and others of an epic marriage...to the Beloved.
As one who has counseled couples for over 27 years, and forged my own nontraditional marriage for 33 years, and studied love and family life for over 40 years, I respectfully offer these thoughts for your consideration.
So, where have you acquired a compass or GPS for moral direction? Hopefully, any church is a place to love and be nurtured, to be urged toward your best self, and to be empowered to be salt and light in a world that prefers sugar and low light. But, do you know the origins of your church, if you rely on it for consolation and guidance? After all, you probably wouldn’t let a next door neighbor change your transmission just because he or she said they liked car mechanics. You wouldn’t take a sick pet to your secretary just because she likes animals. You wouldn’t pay for an education under college professors who merely liked to read and self-appointed themselves experts. Would you?
After all, we turn to our doctor because he or she is extensively trained in knowledge and skills beyond our own. He or she has gone through years of preparation and formation and examination to become qualified to be our advisor. They've taken an oath to "Do no harm" and to dignify our needs from the womb to the tomb.
A desire to be a doctor and to don a white coat and title do not suffice--it takes years and years of education, residency, scrutiny, and cross examination to forge doctors who are equipped to stand between life and death for us. I wouldn't want to put my life or welfare in the hands of someone who cut corners or who designated himself as a healer or physician!
It is understandable that anyone would be drawn to the nobility and prestige of being a doctor. But there are names for people who assign themselves that status who haven't gone through the gauntlet of medical school. Two that I can think of are "fraud" and "criminal," because that is how seriously we regard the sanctity of human health and medical ethics. It would be a rather scary world if medical titles were presented on the basis of popularity, charisma, or one's last name, wouldn't it?!
But, what about your spiritual health? Has it been helped or harmed by organized religion? I'd have to answer "Yes." I've been blessed and I've been beaten up by churches.
Thankfully, the Creator and I are on good terms and we can laugh about that now, without my bursting out in sobs. What a relief that is. If you've ever been hit by a church (or congregation) and been dragged 200 feet through notorious grape vines and zealous prayer chains, you know what I'm talking about. Most likely, God has countless reasons to weep over His encounters with humans. But He hasn't vented to me about that, yet. Maybe I haven't let Him get a sob in edgewise...
Suffice it to say, I've been Teen leader in three Presbyterian churches, President of the Baptist Student Union at a Southern Baptist college, an adult leader in the Episcopal church, Junior staff for Campus Crusade for Christ, and College mentor for a Young Life high school group with over a hundred teens involved. You could say I have some credibility when it comes to church life and denominational exposure...
Recently, the Catholic church has been in the news a lot, what with retirement of a pope and the election of a new one. This has provided the media with plenty of opportunities to rehash its scandals, scoff at its medieval morals, protest its anti-feminist stance, rebuke its politically incorrect views, and scorn its anti-gay marriage stance.
Granted, jaded broadcasters appeared to be taken aback temporarily, by an endearing, humble guy taking on the name and rawness of St. Francis, but pretty soon they returned to glumping everything evil onto the Church and its deplorable policies and failures. Identified failures that are notable for two reasons of interest. First, because one would think molestation is uncommitted by Protestant pastors or youth leaders.
Second, because only the Catholic church has a home office that now screens personnel and monitors child/adult contact to a degree barely achieved by DFCS. Still, transparency in the Church about heinous crimes committed by humans has caused the world to believe Protestant halls and homes are free of abuse and molestation because molesters are contained within the Catholic church and penitentiaries, it appears.
It appears. What a lovely and dangerous phrase. It appears you have a malignant tumor. It appears the flight has been cancelled. It appears we've been hacked.
Going back to the question of how did you chose your church. It appears there was something that appealed to you. Perhaps a welcoming congregation. Maybe great preaching. Maybe a charismatic pastor. Maybe a chance to zone out for at least one hour a week or to hear live music. Maybe the hope of getting a surrogate family. Maybe a hope that attending church would patch up your marriage or straighten out your kid...
Do you go to a church? Do you belong to one? Does it belong to you? Have you ever left a church? Been told to leave one? Been asked not to come back?
Have you seen one grow from modest to mega? Have you been in one that tore itself into pieces and factions? Maybe you used to be a church goer. Funny way to describe something, isn't it? Never considered myself a school goer or a store goer or a baseball game goer. Wonder if that means something.
Do you recall why you quit going? Bad vibes? Fell out with the preacher or with one the powerful committee members or staff members? Maybe you felt slighted. You didn't seem to warrant a hospital visit or a phone call when things were difficult. You got left out. Or maybe you never fit in.
Maybe they needed you as a nursery worker more than they wanted you as a parishioner. Maybe you stepped on a deacon's or vestry member's or elder' s toe and it felt better to stay home. Or maybe you tried another church, only to get the same old-same old.
As I said, I've been a zealous leader in several churches and in different denominations. I've actually been requested to leave a church! After living through three bloody splits (in a Southern Baptist church, an Episcopal church, and a Presbyterian church) I decided God must have had a better plan than what I'd experienced.
I spent a full year investigating world history, church history, religiosity, and theology. The only thing I went took into my exploration was the certainty that the answer would not be the Mary-worshipping, tell-you-what-to-believe, ritual ridden, opulent cathedral'd Catholic church. Famous last words.
As former Presbyterian scholar Scott Hahn described his journey, I, too, found that historical facts led me into a horror story that trailed into a mystery, and ended up a love story. A love story that required my full surrender. It did not allow me to practice "cafeteria line Christianity" where I was free to pick and choose morals or values according to how they suit my pallet or pad my wallet or enhance my image. It doesn't conform to what's politically correct or chic, or deemed progressive. It doesn't grant me the option to pick which Commandments I want to keep and which ones I want to retire from the list.
So, it asked of me surrender, in order to trust that the Great Shepherd could keep the flock he called, over twenty centuries, despite sin, madness, mayhem, heresy, corruption, martyrdom, modernity, and mockery.
Then, it asked of me personal ministry. Yes, this is no spectator sport. Every single member is gifted with a ministry--- be it teacher, mechanic, chef, or stockbroker! And the discerning of that gift and its maximum expression requires a specific question: am I best equipped to fulfill this independently or in a partnership? And if through partnership, with a mate or with a brotherhood or sisterhood?
I'll never forget being a zealous convert still dripping with former individualism, sympathizing with a priest because he couldn't know the joy of mate and children and family. He swiftly corrected me and explained that he knew the joy of family life--multiplied--by each one of his parish posts! Secondly, he clarified that his "cup was full" differently than mine, but no less than mine. His joy and radiance bore witness to his words.
Unfortunately, these days, celibacy and religious life are rarely considered an option for joy or for connectedness. Yet I can tell you, after counseling over 4000 couples, marriage is no guaranty of fulfillment or joy (or unbroken vows).
These days, sexual activity is considered vital to self-expression. Despite jokes and facts about sexual under satisfaction among singles and marrieds, it is still sought as life's great tonic (often from partners who consider it life's big headache!)
For Catholics, marriage is meant to be a vocational choice much more than a romantic or sexual one. When it is, and it results in passionate service to others, empowered by seven sacraments, it not only supercharges the bedroom, it brings children into a strong, loving nest.
Perhaps the time will come, when sexual bonding will take its place behind the bonding of souls in higher purposes. In pursuits far surpassing self-gratification.
Ironically (or not) the most epic love stories are often those of self-sacrifice, self-restraint and triumph ( Les Miserables, for one.)
I can only imagine that through the centuries, to this day, countless people have married the wrong persons. Countless people have married for the wrong reasons. And I grieve that countless people over the centuries have cheated themselves and others of an epic marriage...to the Beloved.
As one who has counseled couples for over 27 years, and forged my own nontraditional marriage for 33 years, and studied love and family life for over 40 years, I respectfully offer these thoughts for your consideration.
So, where have you acquired a compass or GPS for moral direction? Hopefully, any church is a place to love and be nurtured, to be urged toward your best self, and to be empowered to be salt and light in a world that prefers sugar and low light. But, do you know the origins of your church, if you rely on it for consolation and guidance? After all, you probably wouldn’t let a next door neighbor change your transmission just because he or she said they liked car mechanics. You wouldn’t take a sick pet to your secretary just because she likes animals. You wouldn’t pay for an education under college professors who merely liked to read and self-appointed themselves experts. Would you?
What are the qualifications of the person at the helm of your church? And while you’re at it, what was the deal with the guy (most likely, statistically) who chartered your church or fellowship? Ever ask? People usually don’t. If this question makes you squirm, as it did me, I wish you grace for the journey. You deserve to ask and you deserve answers. It is a quest that matters. Does your spiritual leader get a good deal, for serving in that capacity? Prestige, salary, housing allowance, minimal supervision? Possibly, no supervision, or supervisors who are hand-picked, or who suddenly disappear from the board of deacons or elders because he or she “clashed” with the preacher? Kind of makes you think, right?
What is truth? Ever give that some thought? Who or what is your source for news and information about the big questions of life like " Why am I here?" "Do I matter to anybody?" and "With so much suffering and exploitation in the world, how can I possibly find joy or peace of mind?"
What is truth? Ever give that some thought? Who or what is your source for news and information about the big questions of life like " Why am I here?" "Do I matter to anybody?" and "With so much suffering and exploitation in the world, how can I possibly find joy or peace of mind?"
Despite the fact that self-indulgence is possibly at an all time high, do you see a lot of happy, truly happy people? I don’t. Do you see vibrant relationships? Maybe between people and their game consoles or TV remote controls. At some point, especially if you are exposed to really sad, upsetting stories, you’ll ask, “What is the deal?” When you do, whose answer will satisfy you?
If you’re putting all your eggs in Brother Bill’s basket, or Rev. Michael’s mega church and realty center (or is it reality center?) you might want to step back and reevaluate. Ministries have boomed, and then dissolved all around us, on TV and around the corner. New factions of the Christian religion spring up like mushrooms every day. I won’t mention what organic matter hosts the biggest mushrooms but it appears to follow horses and cows. What did your church spring from? Discontent? The certainty that some guy had finally “gotten it right” after 1500 years? Or more right in the mid 1900’s when THE fundamentals were suddenly exposed to a small party of “real” believers?
I’ll admit it to you, it was hard to look at history and slowly see the discrepancy unfold, between what I’d been taught and what had been objectively recorded. It did not sit well. And it stepped on my toes mighty heavily. I was chagrinned, to tell you the truth. I’d heard the saying, “The truth will set you free, but first it will offend you” (PG translation) It did. It freed me but first it stunned me, up heaved my world, and angered me to find out that I’d been misinformed about church matters that mattered! Specifically, I’d been taught that Catholics worshipped Mary, and for all intents and purposes, the Pope, as well. I was told they looked down on women and rejected gays and had an unromantic view of sex.
For decades, I assumed what I’d been taught about my church(es) and about others was the gospel (pun intended.) How wrong was I. It was messy and scary to learn otherwise. But I imagine that’s what it is like to recognize there’s a hole in your canoe, too. You can adjust or drown, even though the ride down the river had been going really well until that realization!
Let me close, by saying, I consider myself very fortunate that wonderful Presbyterians, Episcopalians, Charismatics, Non-Denominationals, and Southern Baptists helped me thrive and grow along the way. They showed me love, acceptance, and usually, the beloved face of God. I can only hope, like Scott Hahn did, that those who determined he’d lost his mind when he left the Protestant fold, would take a second look at history. And, to risk being cheesy, His story—Christ’s and his insistence that his believers remain one.
Let me close, by saying, I consider myself very fortunate that wonderful Presbyterians, Episcopalians, Charismatics, Non-Denominationals, and Southern Baptists helped me thrive and grow along the way. They showed me love, acceptance, and usually, the beloved face of God. I can only hope, like Scott Hahn did, that those who determined he’d lost his mind when he left the Protestant fold, would take a second look at history. And, to risk being cheesy, His story—Christ’s and his insistence that his believers remain one.
When I was young, I was taught that the “catholic church” in the Nicene Creed stood for “universal,” and that was meant to comfort and assure me that all God’s chillum are in the universal church. What was not explained was that while we are all part of the universal church, the universal church was provided a guardian and guide so that we would not split into hundreds of different factions focused on what part of the Bible we liked or which vices we didn’t like.
Imagine, if you will, a huge, sturdy circus tent, at the onset of a horrible hail storm. Would it be enough to share membership with the hundreds of people out in the field, or might you prefer to get under the tent and be sheltered from the ice pellet storm? The tent is the church Christ ordained and has sustained through mayhem, corruption, and every possible human explosion or implosion. It was meant to be our guardian and guide, under the Holy Spirit. Universally. Without division and subdivision and sub-subdivsion, etc..
Here’s the bottom line. Whether it has been told to you (or denied by some fool) YES, your life matters so, so much. YES, it matters that you are here, and that you don't throw in the towel. And among other beautiful, profound gifts in the world...there's a tribe that has spent over 2000 years guarding truth and real freedom, for you. They stand ready to welcome you out of the hailstorm. They won’t promise that under the tent you’ll find utopia. But, if you look, you’ll find more than you ever dreamed possible. Might want to check out Christ’s charter church!
(C) 2013 Laurie D. Johnson Ph.D., M.Co., LPC.
(C) 2013 Laurie D. Johnson Ph.D., M.Co., LPC.
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