It has been some time since I have attended my usual place of worship. I love the people there and it's relatively easy to be accepted there... just turn up on a regular basis with your mask on.
For a little background this church lends itself to labels like: evangelical, fundamental, spirit filled and the main banner of apostolic.
I know I'm going to sound very cynical here but some things need saying.
I was a little unsettled about six months ago in the congregation when a pastor was invited to the front to testify regarding a dream and vision that he had. My ears immediately pricked up because it was a first in the six or so months that I had been going along. The vision was simply of Jesus staggering toward him in a pleading manner with both hands plastered and bandaged. The interpretation of the pastor about that vision was a simplistic idea of the church being recently tied down financially due to the ongoing works on the building.
Once I heard the interpretation my mind was immediately flooded with other problems of hierarchical problems with the clergy there, it's lack of impact on the community, particularly the poor and other minority groups.
My thoughts didn't have much time to develop though when the senior pastor chimed in and gave his interpretation siting recent threats made by some unknown Muslim group toward him due to his public support of a Ps. Danny Naliah. (This pastor had over the previous year been fighting in Victorian Courts for the right to speak 'freely' and accuse Muslims of trying to make Australia an Islamic State and brand them all dangerous. The pastor lost the court case but vowed to continue his public preaching and defamation regardless. ) As soon as this interpretation was said the whole congregation gasped. That gasp was enough to say it all... without a word being said. These Muslim Terrorists are out to get us! Threatening to attack our Pastor!
Needless to say I was choking silently looking around the huge hall in disbelief.
The second choking incident came via a friend who used to be a part of the church. I began wondering why I had not heard from a prominent female pastor who in the past had preached regularly but I hadn't heard of for some time; and I mean hadn't even sighted there for some time. My presumption was that they were on holiday because no one even made a mention of them. When I say them I mean the husband as well who was also a Pastor there and just happened to be the Senior Pastor's own son. Well my friend in the know told me that there had been a falling out between father and son. Son who was a chippy and plasterer by trade had put in a huge amount of time on the ongoing renovations to the church complex. I guess he expected to be put into a senior role in the church along with his wife as his father intended to retire in a short time. Expectations fell short when that role was handed to a prominent young super Pastor who had charged through the ranks and obviously did the spiritual hard yards. It was around this time I was being introduced to alternative concepts of doing church without dominant hierachy and minus most of the politics. It was and still is very appealing. So now I had a few new words in the vocabulary and could brand it the dualistic induced power struggle
that it was.
Meanwhile as all this was going on the Super Pastor was in full flight. Letting us know in one fully fledged sermon that Jesus the man was not poor at all. He was the son of the father who has the 'cattle on a thousand hills'. He wore an extremely expensive garment and other similar arguments. Letting us know (inadvertently) that it's okay to be rich in our already rich society even if our neighbours and our neighbours in other countries experience horrendous poverty. I found that problems in his sermons came up not in what he said but what was inferred and left unsaid.
As I kept going I felt like I just didn't belong. I didn't cut it. I wasn't enthusiastic at 'worship' time. I thought more and more differently than the people there. I found myself picking the eyes out of sermons and disagreeing more and more. I was beginning to roll my eyes at the never ending stream of Super Speakers visiting the church. Each with their super plan to follow: what I needed to be all that I could be in Christ. Along with their super testimony of how they were saved from whichever huge pit that they found themselves in and how they were powering on. Letting me know loud and clear (again inferred) how I wasn't being all that I could be and not powering on at all. I began to look around to see if there were any folks like me. On the fringes, not with the 'in crowd'. I found they came and went sporadically (like I was) and I never had opportunity to connect.
Mostly I was beginning to become disenchanted. I could see more and more of the picture this church was painting of Jesus. It was beginning to look exactly like the one at the top of this post. A super Jesus that expects some sort of plastic perfection from me. A need to be rich, powerful, desirable, beautiful etc. in order to be accepted. It just doesn't wash anymore. It smells more like empire than the Jesus I know.
I never signed up to be Superman.
