Sunday and church

When I was growing up, and even long into adulthood, I was a church-goer. Not just a sit-in-the-pews church-goer, but a very involved member of several Lutheran churches I attended over the years.

For reasons I will skip over for now, I have pretty much stopped going to church. I may attend on Christmas Eve or when my parents are visiting, out of respect for their wishes. But I find that attending church does not fill my spiritual well as it did in the past.

I tend to obsess on the male-focused language (Father, Son, Lord, Prince, King, etc.) and how excluding it is for a woman like myself. I don't like war or warrior language in hymns ("Onward, Christian Soldiers"). I also have a lot of difficulty with descriptions of people as "poor sinners," or "a wretch like me."

When religion needs to denigrate people, it feels like it becomes an immense marketing scheme. That is, let's knock the average Jane or Joe down until they feel "wretched" about themselves, and then, we righteous churches can step in and offer them the product we're selling (and they obviously need): the promise of being "saved" from their sinful selves through Jesus, Bible-worship and the you're-one-of-us-now-club, otherwise known as organized religion.

Sorry, I didn't mean to let so much of my caustic cynicism spill out onto the blog. Ouch!. . . it makes even me take a step back. Let me try again.

Bible readings and most sermons don't speak to me and touch me in the ways they did earlier in my life. What does still have the ability to touch me is the music -- hymns and beautifully written liturgy. Again, that is, if the language isn't too male-oriented and doesn't knock people down.

Let me give an example of language that I do like. It's an Offertory (from the Lutheran 'green' hymnal, the Lutheran Book of Worship) sung as the "gifts" are offered:

"Let the vineyards be fruitful, Lord, and fill to the brim our cup of blessing.
Gather a harvest from the seeds that were sown, that we may be fed with the bread of life.
Gather the hopes and dreams of all; unite them with the prayers we offer.
Grace our table with your presence, and give us a foretaste of the feast to come."

(Speaking of "gifts," though, I will pass on comments about money and church, at least for now.)

Here's another example of non-sexist language. This is taken from the 16th-century chorale, "O Jesulein Sweet, o Jesulein mild:"

O Little One sweet! O Little One mild!
In You, love's beauties are all distilled;
Light in us love's ardent flame,
That we may give You back the same.
O Little One sweet! O Little One mild!

So . . . as I was saying, the music still touches my soul. But, that is about it.

What I do find that also touches me are words, phrases, articles that emphasize how we are all connected. Not how we are different or how one group of us is better than another, but how we are all connected. Where I end and you begin is a matter of physics and faith.

My parents raised me to believe in a loving God, a forgiving God and a God that is connected or "in relation" with each and every one of us. And I think that connection between God and me is a model for my connections with others. My challenge in this life is to love others like I believe God loves me. Love universally, love unconditionally, love timelessly.

(as an expression of my faith . . . ) I will die trying.