Tag Archives: church

The Resurrection Power, Now

We sat on the bed, strained throats fighting to articulate sense. Easter was a few days past, and I halfheartedly ate the mini gourmet chocolate bunny; it tasted good but it made no difference at all.

I told him something was missing, something I couldn’t place but that I needed desperately to have, something that mattered to the whole of me and to my being whole. I folded the gold wrapper, not into my quirky trademark perfect, tiny square, but back into the form of the bunny, now two-dimensional, empty.

Our conversation careened us on a trajectory that terrified us both, tears and desperation mixed with confusion and rage, and I wondered whether it was God I was missing because the hole felt about that gaping big. But I had felt it before, this God-too-far ache, and I knew that it wasn’t His presence I missed this time, yet I felt sure He was my only chance at supplying this elusive life-or-death need.

I looked at the flat bunny, poorly reconstructed in my hand, and I wondered to myself with mournful fury, Where is the resurrection power now?

Please continue reading today’s post at A Deeper Story.

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Guest Post: “When You Take Your Twins to Church”

Today I have the pleasure of hosting one of my dearest online friends, the incomparable Leanne Shirtliffe of Ironic Mom.  Between her killer wit and her beautiful heart, I was smitten as soon as I met her, and of course I love a gal who’s handy with an innuendo (if you know what I mean). And, like me, she knows that the best way to handle life with twins is to laugh at every opportunity. –Tamara

(What’s up with all the guest posts around here lately?)

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There is nothing quite like suppressing a laugh in church. I do this often with my seven-year-old twins, who expend more energy and provide more entertainment than Cirque du Soleil on speed.

Here are ten churchy things Vivian and William have done that have made me want to crawl under a pew, curl up into the fetal position, and pray that the Second Coming is imminent –like in the next thirty seconds.

10. During the sermon, William started playing a loud version of I Spy. He started with “I spy something gray.” It’s an aging congregation.

9. When the choir started singing, William put both hands over his ears and kept them that way for the length of a cantata.

8. When I led the children’s craft before the service, Vivian asked if she could have more fairies for her cross. “They’re angels,” I said. I looked at William, who was holding up his stickers. “I know those are dolphins,” I said. “I couldn’t find fish stickers.”

7. Vivian and William had a hockey brawl, fighting over who got to put our money into the collection plate. I got hit with an upper cut.

6. When the pastor asked the children what God looked like, Vivian’s hand shot up. “Half man, half woman,” she said.

5. After partaking in bread and juice for the first time in communion, William loudly asked, “What was that all about?”

4. On another Sunday, Vivian returned to our pew after having communion and announced, “Jesus tastes yummy.”

3. The next week, Vivian was first up to the communion rail, knelt, and tumbled off in a sideways somersault.

2. While watching a baptism, William backed up and rear-ended a taller-than-him candle. It was set upright before the entire congregation had to stop, drop and roll.

1. Immediately after saying the Apostles’ Creed, Vivian turned to me and asked, “What’s a virgin, Mom?”

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Leanne Shirtliffe is the mother of seven-year-old twins. She blogs at IronicMom where her motto is “If you can’t laugh at yourself, laugh at your kids.” To escape from her kids, Leanne teaches junior high and finds that dealing with ninety-seven teenagers is often easier than being trapped in a house with her own spawn. Leanne is currently finishing revising her first manuscript, tentatively titled Get That Train off Your Penis: Things I Never Thought I’d Say As a Parent.

You can connect with her on Twitter and Facebook.

Open the Door and See All the People

“Here is the church,” I laced my fingers together and hid them between closed palms. “Here is the steeple,” I shot my pointer fingers up and touched the tips together. “Open the door and see all the people,” I swung apart my thumbs and wiggled my entwined fingers. And this last was always my favorite part, the funny church members all wobbly and stuck together.

My fingers have grown since those days, but I still like to use them to remind myself of what makes up the Church. For all the division and frustration, for all the disillusionment and hurt, for all the damage that by rights should have razed the building long ago, still here is the Church. And still my favorite part is the people.

(continued)

So often we find it necessary to speak of the Church’s hard and hurtful parts. Today it’s my joy to take part in my friend Preston Yancey’s astounding, uplifting project, At the Lord’s Table: A Conversation, “a series of over 50 posts from varying authors about the beautiful, mangled Church.”

Please pull up a chair and join me.

When Words Become Flesh

I write monthly for A Deeper Story, where the group of us is blessed to tell stories of Christ and culture, given space both to wrestle hard and to weave soft. We tell the small stories so we might better know the Grand Story, and we sit in a virtual circle beside that space’s dear readers, shoulder to shoulder but for computer screens and miles, a community built on words and the Word.

But we remember that the Word became flesh.

And this Word-become-flesh brought light to our dark world, not in virtual community but in dwelling among us. And so if we are gifted to use our words in that space of Christ and culture, it cannot be because we were meant to leave them at only words.

Our words must become flesh.

And the One who was gracious to speak life into form knows this and wants this and works this into being. And, having glimpsed how small the world is in God’s hands, I cannot help but tell the story…

Please continue reading today’s post at A Deeper Story!

Permit a Woman to Speak

There was much to-do on the Internet yesterday over a famous pastor and his ideas about the “feel” of Christianity. And the whole thing– yet another in a tiresome succession of divisive, hurtful arguments among the people who are meant to radiate Christ– was just too much for me. So I said only, “Grateful that Christianity is defined by Christ and not by famous pastors.”

That sucker got re-tweeted and “liked” like nobody’s business. And everyone, with their own particular leanings, might well have imagined a different famous pastor as they raised amen with the click of a mouse.

No matter whom you picture, it’s just as true. Yet we stand in our camps and argue til all we hear is the strain in our own voices. I’m tired, friends. I can’t do it, at least not today.

But there is one thing I can do, and it might even do just a tiny bit more good than all the arguing. Every Friday in 2012, my friend Ed Cyzewski is hosting a guest post for his Women in Ministry Series in order to encourage women to pursue their God-given callings. Today it’s my honor to contribute to the series with a post on tuning out the arguing and answering God’s call.

Please visit Ed’s blog for my post, Permit a Woman to Speak, and join the discussion there.

(But no arguing. I mean it.)

Suspecting You Attend a Hipster Church

For quite some time now I’ve teased Jon Acuff about being a closet hipster. With his frequent talk of deep-V necks and TOMS,* he’s offered plenty proof.

But then one day, I remembered that I was the person who introduced him to the music of Josh Garrels. And suddenly the comfy, off-mainstream shoe was on the other foot.

So I dug deep and examined my roots. The result was a guest post for Jon, featured on Stuff Christians Like today.

Please go check it out!

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*If you want to enter to win a free pair of TOMS and help out a very sick new baby and his parents, please click here!

A Church Where I Want to Stay

'Breaking bread, juice, dinner party, Broadview townhouse, Seattle, Washington, USA' photo (c) 2007, Wonderlane - license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

I’ve lately begun to suspect that the Church is not wholly bent on my sweeping displeasure and total alienation. To be sure, it has done a fine job of putting me off in the ways of particular denominational doctrine, and it has lent handily to my exasperation at church-lady culture. But lately it has missed the piss-me-off mark:

In my church last week a woman served communion.

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Please continue reading today’s post at A Deeper Story!

Rent

'rent' photo (c) 2007, lesley wright - license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/

Its latest incarnation began as a Facebook thread in which my friend Joy asked whether any female bloggers might be able to use tickets to a popular women’s conference.

Tamara: Well, I’m close enough, but I’m afraid Christian women’s conferences make me a little belligerent. 8O

Joy: HAHAHAHAHA!!!! I’d love to read the post you’d write about it. :-D

Tamara: Well, dang. Maybe I should go. Just for kicks & blog posts. ;)

Joy: I went to the [passive-aggressive sounding]conference last year. (What kind of name is that? It sounds hokey outside the church.)  Anyway, it was better than I expected. But I might see it differently now. :?

Tamara: Just looked at the dates– it’s this weekend. I think Bryan and I will see Rent instead. No day but today. :)

Joy: *gasp* You’re picking RENT over [popular women's conference]? You heathenness. :D

Tamara: I’ve been to women’s gatherings and Rent before. Rent makes me feel better.

When I look back at this conversation, two truths glare at me: Joy and I use an overabundance of emoticons, and, perhaps worse, I have serious lady issues.

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Please continue reading today’s post at A Deeper Story!