Why Would I Leave the CHURCH?

A better question might be: Could I leave the Church? This imperfect, sometimes questioning, sometimes unloving, always searching, yet redeemed soul. Could I be free to leave the Church

No. I have been sealed by the Spirit, bought by the blood of Christ, adopted into the Body of Christ which IS the Church.

And, God help me, why would I want to leave?

I have just finished reading Searching For Sunday; loving, leaving, and finding the church. The author has recently left this world in a very sudden and tragic illness leaving behind two little ones and a devoted husband.

As I read, I learned to love the searching and cynical, but honest and compelling young woman.  Her struggles led her down paths in those early years of questioning that I wish I could have walked with her. I, too, had questions. I was not as intelligent as she was, but I desperately wanted to know things that baffled my mind.

So how is it that we ended up taking diverse paths?

I recently asked dear friends who have been walking and talking through a myriad of books with me if they would like to tackle Rachel’s book. We were completing God Space and it was time to be thinking of our next focus. The choices were Os Guinness’ book, Impossible People, or Searching for Sunday. The gals chose the former and, instead, gave me the assignment of reading the latter and giving them a synopsis.

So, here I am, trying to understand the heart of a progressive and influential young woman, distinguish my own thoughts from hers, understand her influence, and, at the same time, blend that into our purpose as a group: How do we interface with our culture in a redeeming lifestyle?

Rachel is not the only one I have learned to love who has taken divergent paths from mine. I long to find the common ground. I must stay with the biblical interpretation that has formed the core of my beliefs. I will explain this in later blogs.

Meanwhile, what does it look like to stay connected with those I love? I have a current barnyard illustration:

Recently I bought a goat from my grandson, Joshua, to be a companion to Donk, my lonely donkey. Buck-the-goat is a handsome, but small little guy.  Prior to his arrival, I had been gifted with a white duck who had instantly been rejected by my two red hens.

Within a matter of a couple days, I noticed a strange bonding had occurred. The white duck, Jemima, had attached herself to Buck. Her white little body now walks in tandem with a somewhat larger brown body. No matter where Buck goes, she goes with him . . . except when the brown body jumps up on the three-and-a-half foot stack of tile that is his “goat perch.”

Jemima settles at the base of the stack and patiently waits for Buck to return to terra firma where they can once again walk in tandem. I can hear her saying, “I can’t go there with you, but I will wait for a time when we can find common ground again.”

I guess that is what I am saying to my friends who have gone to a place in their thinking that I cannot go: “I can’t go there with you, but I will look for the times when we can walk together. And I will be proud to meet you there.”