OK, so here’s another good reason to leave the blogging to people who can.
I’m running out of patience with the emergent church ‘conversation’. I can no longer fathom our never-ending quest for a profound worship experience. I have no stomach for anything represented by a Christian market moniker – fiction or music or tee-shirts or bumperstickers or little silver fish on the back of the mini-van or any of it. This job has absolutely ruined it for me and normal Christianity. I’m through. Why? Because it’s all sacred. Every single heartbreak, pain, sob and gasp and cry are the world-bound expressions of Christ Himself, who aches and pains and longs through those who are wounded, abandoned, starved for love and starved for life. All that pain is sacred, every bit of it, and I’m beginning to understand that we intersect with God in the world – in it’s wounded, raw agony, in its insatiable longing to love and be loved, in its blood and tears and in the absolute despair that is the moment of one’s realization of hopelessness. That’s where God is most real, where love is most powerful and where Christ is most present.
It’s all sacred, every bit of it – it’s all sacred.