Monday musings

This past weekend I traveled back to my hometown and home UMC Conference to attend a Board of Ordained Ministry meeting. The content of this blog post is not necessarily a reflection of the board or its meeting - I support the board and its purpose (otherwise I would not be a member of it) and I even support the polity of the United Methodist Church (otherwise I would not be a member of it) - but I can't help but think, all of the time, that the church/Church is wholly irrelevant to any positive changes in society. This frustrates the hell out of me.

I'm the token "young adult" on the board. I'm okay with playing this role. Young adults of the Church in general are often sequestered and held accountable for coming up with the solutions to save the Church. The problem is the definition of "church." If you're as lucky as me, you've sang "a church is not a building, a church is not a steeple, a church is not a resting place, the church is a people . . ." and then you went to the trustees meeting to make sure we had enough money to put new carpet down, buy new candlesticks, and fix the roof and the furnace and the dishwasher and the padding on the pews. So, one step toward a solution to "save the church" is to have fewer buildings.

Another, far more important step, is to be a part of positive change, not a hindrance to it. Even better, be a leader of positive change, not an entity who joins change already in progress and then congratulates itself on how forward-thinking, earth friendly, and accepting it is when the secular charitable/humanist organizations have treated the earth and people better than the general church for basically all of modern history.

The term "organized religion" has gained - and earned - a nasty connotation. I'm pretty sure I've said this before, but the keyword is "organized." It's a horrific shame that this organization has been used for all classes of evil, but it has, can be, should be, and must be used for all classes of Good if it is to survive as a church of any defintion. I remain a part of this United Methodist beast because I hope that this organized group of people can effect positive change, and to get it to do so I must be a part of it from the inside. By positive change I mean recognition of gay equity, health care for all, education for all, food for all, and poverty and war for none.

Since I've moved away from my hometown and Conference, however, I've taken a step back from my church involvement. I attend worship at a church I like a lot, though I haven't even gone every Sunday. There are so many Good people and organizations in the world that have nothing to do with religion, and in these past two months I've found myself wanting to scream at the Church "Get the hell out of the way so we can do God's work!" But I haven't gotten seriously involved with any of these organizations either. I like being able to name Jesus as part of my motivation, because I believe in God and I hate, hate, hate what Christianity in today's society means and care enough to want to change what it means. But I'm at a crossroad. And I'm religion-tired, or unmotivated. I'm afraid to commit because I'm afraid of burnout and even more of disenchantment.

I'm just beginning to settle in my new home. I need structure and routine more than the regular person (I'm a copy editor for Pete's sake), so taking the time to establish this has been more important than figuring out how I'm going to help save the world. (On top of this, I'm selfish and a bit of a chickenshit.) I've been exploring the city, visiting museums and parks and plays, meeting new people, and literally taking time to smell the roses. In a city that's supposed to make me hard and cynical I've found my walls becoming thinner. I've found myself more centered and open and, dare I say, faithful. I thank God for where I am, in every sense of that phrase.

I'll figure out my role in the grander scheme. In this moment I'm content to be a busy copy editor supporting her smart, good husband who is motivated and who is on the path to help save the world by educating the world. (He couldn't be doing this without me, of course.) It's clear that this is a time in my life for me just be patient and listen, to slow down and shut up and listen. Will I be able to do this? We'll see. I'm so ready to try.