The Church is a "Com-Bus"

  It's been four years since my church blew up and I was unceremoniously dismissed from the place I had served for forty years as youth director, worship leader, trustee, and missions director, among other things.  I had most recently served on the board of directors by virtue of my position as Elder of Missions and Evangelism when the new pastor told me, "Maybe it would be better if you didn't come at all; you're seen as a divisive person here." (yes, I'm actually quoting him).  I've got to hand it to him; it takes balls to actually ask a life-long leader in your church to quit coming.  He and the other leaders - right up to the district superintendent - had become fed-up with my constant challenges of the status quo.  I guess I should be happy - at least I didn't suffer the same fate as John the Baptist (actually, I am happy; I might still be there if I hadn't been asked to leave).

  One of my challenges to the system surrounded the inability or unwillingness of the church to get down and get dirty with the lost in our neighborhood and around the world.  We existed only to perpetuate our own comfort and our traditions.  We were all about protecting our way of life inside the four walls of the church and our denomination.

  I had seen a vision of what we were, and it was a rather unsettling picture.  I had actually awakened one morning and, still half asleep, an image was brightly projected on the screen of my mind, along with a knowledge of what it meant.  The picture I saw was what I later named the Com-Bus.  It was a large machine moving slowly through a wheat field, and the main chassis of the beast was a large combine, a harvester with a huge cutting head at the front, but there were two things unique about this machine.

  First of all, the cutting bars and the rakes were not moving; they were either shut off or disconnected so that, though the machine was moving over the ground, there was nothing being harvested.  The grain was just being flattened by the large wheels of the monster.

  The second odd thing about this harvesting machine was that the grain hopper behind the cab had been replaced with a bus body so that there were actually seats for several dozen riders.  Not only that, but as I looked closer, I could see that in fact the bus was full of people, but they were not just riding, they were worshipping.  There was a worship leader standing at the front and singing, and the whole crowd were singing along with hands raised and so entranced by the worship that none of them even glanced out the windows.

  If they had looked, they might have seen what I could see as a bystander: The rear emergency door was open and some of their participants - mostly high school graduates, I think - were carefully jumping from that exit and wandering away across the field, never to return to the vehicle again, so the crowd on the bus was slowly shrinking.

  This is where my vision ended and my troubles at church began.  Well, not really; I had been in trouble before for being the annoying elbow in the ribs that tries to awaken others to unpleasant hypocrisies of the system (We come from a long line that includes Martin Luther and a few other dissenters who are mostly all dead now).

  Now the most surprising thing that happened to me in the year following my vision, was that my wife and I, along with 150 other travelers, were also evacuated from the rear emergency door of that colossal machine.  And it wasn't a drill.

  So in the last five years since seeing this vision, I have changed locations and become an outsider, and my view of the realities is from a different perspective.  Mind you, nothing has changed about the church since I've left, nor is there any deviation in the obvious analogies about the huge harvesting machine that has transformed into a self-contained worshipping machine that was actually crushing the ripening grain onto the ground as it lumbered ahead.  And like most graduating seniors, I'm glad I'm on the outside now and do not intend to return.

  I am standing in the field with the other outsiders - both believers and nonbelievers - and have discovered that we really look very much like each other.  Like wheat and tares, I guess, and that's how the Lord said it will be until the end.  I have lately hung out with Mormons, former Catholics and Episcopalians, gays, atheists and "nones"* and have been able to spread the love of God in a less oppositional way than I ever did while functioning within the religious system.  It's a slow process, but more personal and authentic than before.  And more effective.

  I don't know how much longer the institutional Com-Bus will keep rumbling along.  The slow decline of organized religion in America is well documented, but I'm sure it will be around for a long time and still serves a valid purpose to insiders, I guess.  Gene Edwards, in his book Beyond Radical, says the decline started at the Reformation almost 500 years ago and that it will not be complete for another 300 years.  Sorry, I couldn't wait that long.

  The Great Commission has two parts: 1) Reach the Lost, and 2) Teach the Found.  The American church believes in both parts and preaches both parts, but only carries out Part Two.  This is partially because Part One can't be done from inside the walls like it could sixty years ago, and the church, for the most part, will not venture outside the walls.  In a gesture of wishful thinking - or delusion, every church marquee reads, "Everybody Welcome" to a world that passes by every day but will not come inside.

  And there's the rub:  The world will not come inside, and the church will not go outside.

  I guess it's up to outsiders to do the job.  For one thing, we are uninhibited by restrictive policies and denominational doctrines and hellish hierarchies and negative stigmas .  People aren't afraid of you when your only agenda is love.  Lots more could be written on that.  Later.

  Have a great day.  And be real.  And don't be afraid to challenge the status quo; it's not like you'll lose your head over it, although you could lose your comfortable religious world as you now know it.

* "Nones" are those mostly younger Americans who, when polled about religious affiliations, will check the box for "none".  They now make up 20% of the population.  The church will not/cannot reach them.

Pilgrimage to the Beach Part 2 - Another Family Secret

Gene Sims on a dune at the lake

  I ended the previous post saying that skinny dipping was an act of worship.  It is all natural, and with the right awareness, it's a sacred baptism into the essence of the omnipresent Creator who exists in the lake, the sunset, the forest, the water lily, the broom closet, and...  well, everywhere - if He is really omnipresent.

  And speaking of baptism, that reminded me of another childhood experience that was a perfect example of the generous orthodoxy of my dad, who must have been a misfit as a pastor in an untra-conservative era in the evangelical church in America.  I realize now that much of my own liberality must have come from him, as I am certainly not a legalist.

  Baptisms happened two or three times a year in the Missionary Church, and they took a lot of preparation.  In our church, the baptismal tank was under the podium and had to be opened up by lifting off the heavy platforms, drawing water overnight from a garden hose that ran out of the utility room nearby, and then placing electric heaters into the water for several hours to warm it (cold baptismal water could bring on a sudden manifestation that mimics a charismatic outburst, so it was quite unwelcome in the holiness church where the Holy Spirit was always required to "Be a gentleman").

  My two younger brothers and I watched this process with interest, and at some point that warm water - in the middle of the cold winter - reminded one of us of the warm waters of Lake Michigan where we had frolicked the summer before.  It seemed a waste to let it all drain out after the service without any participation on our part, and the obvious question eventually surfaced:

  "Dad, can we go swimming in the baptistry after the service tonight?"

  After a long thoughtful pause, and much to my mother's chagrin, the answer was, "Yes, but don't tell anybody."

  And sure enough, after everyone had gone home that night, we ran back to the parsonage next door, changed into our swim trunks, and ran back through the cold to our unexpected wintertime beach.  And there we received a second blessing, three boys, splashing around in the church baptistry, while Dad locked the doors and Mom nervously double-checked the parking lot.  After all, that kind of display of irreverence could be seen as a sacrilege to the elders and the church ladies (the other omnipresent entities in the spiritual universe) which could kill the joy in a moment and end a man's ministerial career with a short phone call to the superintendent.

  My dad took chances with his magnanimous and liberated spirit.  He had discovered a "wideness in God's mercy" that other clergy would sing about during the worship time and then refute a few minutes later in their challenging sermons.  I think Dad knew that his kids sometimes needed a break from the legalism that saturated the place.

  "Don't run in the House of the Lord!"  "Your heavenly father is watching you."

  I am convinced that much of the church world still lives and moves in the Old Testament and the Law and has never really discovered that through Christ we are now living in the age of Grace.  "There is therefore now much condemnation." (Roman 8:1 twisted every Sunday morning.)

  Only a couple of years ago I listened to a sermon from a pastor who suggested that it was irreverent to wear jeans to church on Sunday morning (I was wearing shorts that day).  When I questioned him about it later, he said, "If you were going to see the Queen of England wouldn't you dress up to be in her presence?"  And I realized that this man (and millions of others) had never really discovered the omnipresence of God in the world and in everyday life.  Though he had certainly studied the attributes of God in his theology classes in seminary, he was viewing spirituality from a pre-Jesus perspective, an Old Testament framework where God dwelt in a holy temple.

  The New Testament is clear that God no longer dwells in brick and mortar buildings but in us, his children, for we are "living stones being built up into a spiritual house". (I Peter 2:5)  I am no more in the presence of the Lord in the church building than I am in my garage or my pickup truck - or in the bathroom changing the baby's diaper.  Or down at the river fishing.  Or water skiing.  Or skinny dipping.

  If a person only feels the presence of God during a twenty-minute worship set every Sunday morning, then they really need to open their eyes.  God is all and in all, and "in Him we live and move and have our being." (Acts 17:28)  That indicates an all-the-time-ness and everywhere-ness to our co-existence, our oneness with Him.

  Dad's been gone for five years and I miss him.  But his Jesus-filled irreverence will live on in my brothers and sisters and me and in generations to come (I don't remember my two sisters ever swimming in the baptistry, but it might have happened).

  This is probably why I've spent my whole life celebrating.  Jesus launched his ministry at a wedding party, and he ended it at a meal with friends, bracketing his ministry with feasting.  Fasting is so Old Testament.  Feasting is New Testament.  I'm living in the New.  My kids will recall the countless times as they were growing up that I said, "Let's order a pizza to celebrate!"

  "Dad, what are we celebrating?"

  "I don't know, but I'll think of something."  And I always did.

  Loosen up friends,  God is everywhere.  Enjoy Him.

  Now, since I'm telling family secrets, let me tell you about my mom, who broke the rules too....

  

Pilgrimage to the Beach

  In a few days I'm heading down to the beach.  As an act of worship.  Well, that's not how it started out, but I'm sure worship is in there, because it is a by-product of my life.  The main motivator for my relocation is that the harsh Michigan winters seem to stage a hostile takeover of an otherwise friendly and pleasant environment, the Great Lakes state being a beautiful place during the rest of the year but nasty and almost life-threatening in the winter.
  I have negotiated a reduced long-term rent with the owner of an apartment on the eastern seashore of the Dominican Republic, so Kaye and I are going to be living and working on the beach for the winter.  While Kaye works on a writing course - her Kindle loaded with books to read by the pool -  I am planning my next photojournalistic project, to compile and publish a book on the culture of the local fishermen, our next-door neighbors in this laid-back caribbean community.
  Years ago Kaye and I conducted mission trips to the Dominican Republic, and our accompanying pastor, Gary Butterfield, once made an off-handed statement about how it would be a sacrilege to bypass the enjoyment of God's creation by missing our day off to be spent at the beach and snorkeling over the coral reefs.  The implication was that God put it there for us to enjoy, and we would insult Him if we didn't do it.
  I have never forgotten that thought, and had it re-enforced years later when I read John Piper's book Let the Nations be Glad in which he explains how the glory of God is magnified by all of creation.  I was sitting under palm trees in El Salvador on another mission trip when I read that book, and it made an impression that was both significant and long lasting.  Right in front of me I could see the palms forever lifting their arms in praise.
  The concept was not difficult for me to adopt, because my dad was one who had caught on to the idea a long time before worship became the main objective for Christians.  I remember camping on the sand dunes on the shore of Lake Michigan when I was a boy, and I can still see dad at sunset, a silhouette standing at the crest of the dune that separated our campsite from the beach.  He would take it all in - for about a minute, then turn around and hurry back to where his kids were sitting around a campfire after supper and say, "You've got to see this; it's one of those great million dollar Lake Michigan sunsets; Come on!"  And we'd leave our fireside - hey, the box of marshmallows wasn't opened yet anyway - and climb the dune and plop down and soak in the red and orange grandeur in silence until the sun was gone.  Then we would skip a few stones on the calm water as the twilight faded and the fireside welcomed us back.
  Dad didn't call it worship, and at twelve years old I was quite unaware at the time that we were partaking in something that was, in a way, holy.  As I've traveled and pursued my own adventures over the years I've come to appreciate the careless and extravagant glory that nature exudes without the least bit of effort, and I look at these experiences as something of a spiritual pilgrimage, whether they come daily or once in a lifetime.
  You know, one of the five pillars of Islam is the Hajj, which is a pilgrimage to Mecca, their holiest site in Saudia Arabia, a once-in-a-lifetime trip that every good Muslim will make if they are able.  One of the rituals that they observe while they are there is the throwing of stones at the devil, a virtual act of spiritual warfare.
  It seems to me that if one of the holy rites of one of the world's most prominent religions involves the throwing of stones, then there is even more of an inherent holiness in a man skipping stones on Lake Michigan with his kids as the evening twilight fades.  Enjoying God's creation is worship.  And worship is the best kind of spiritual warfare.
  Though off-handed and casual about it, nature seems to be quite aware of its creator.  A few years ago I traveled to the other side of the world on a prayer trek with five other guys, our mission was to pray and worship as a means of piercing the darkness in the spiritual realms in an all muslim island country.  I felt strongly that I should follow the prompting of Psalm 108 and "awaken the dawn", so I rose before sunrise to worship on the seashore.  I thought I would be the only one there, but when I arrived at the water's edge there were about fifty worshippers already there, little sand crabs on the shore all staring east toward the sunrise.  They turned and looked at me and those nearest to me scooted sideways politely and made room for me to sit down, not surprised at all at my arrival and not distracted from their purpose.  We sat quietly together, fifty-one of God's children, worshipping in silence as the sun came up.
  This winter I will celebrate the glory in the white sand and the palm trees, and I'm planning to snorkel among the reefs just offshore almost very day and see if there are other water-loving worshippers there who, I'm sure, are already waving their fins to their creator.  And next year I'm planning on going to the mountains at Denali in Alaska and see how the tall pines and the snow-covered peaks raise their praise to their maker.

  Now let me say that a one-time pilgrimage to join in the glory of nature is a wonderful thing, and if you can take one cruise or visit one fiord in your life you'll be doing a good thing, but really, if you could do it every day wouldn't it be better?  I'm not talking about all of us going and living on the beach.  I'm talking about assuming an attitude of acknowledgment and appreciation wherever you are on a regular basis, more as a lifestyle.
  My oldest daughter has caught on to this.  Stacy gets home from work, puts on her hiking shoes and heads to the nearest nature trail and gets into the woods several days a week.  My middle daughter, Angie, a busy mom with a calm and quiet spirit, finds rest and glory in a sanctified cup of gourmet coffee or a visit with the kids to the neighborhood park.  And Wendi, my youngest, creates culinary offerings in a saucepan that are nothing short of divine, and her characteristic celebration of cultural diversity is innately righteous.
  Every day glory is all around us.  So if a pilgrimage is out of reach for us at the moment, we can at least achieve a moment of sabbath or rest and enjoyment at just about any time and any place, and it doesn't have to be anything as grand as a beach.  Psalm 148 has a long list of ordinary beings that bring praise to their maker, from trees and mountains to sea creatures, wild animals, and even cattle.  There's nothing that glorious about a cow, but somehow they give glory without even being aware of God or getting saved, and they don't give milk in the name of Jesus (although every good thing comes from Him).  They bring glory to God simply by instinct, simply by being.
  And it's in your nature too.  Just be a human BEing every day and you will instinctively get the job done, but there's even more joy in it for those who are aware of the world and its beauty and who take the time to acknowledge it.

The sunset from Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes

  Okay, one last thing.  If you are ever in Michigan in the summer and are looking for a pilgrimage to the million dollar sunsets over Lake Michigan, here are some directions.  First find your way to the virtual ghost town of Glen Haven.  When the road seems to end at the shore, turn left and keep going till the road ends at a trailhead parking lot in the woods.  Take a flashlight (for the return after dark), your camera, and you'll need your flip flops or sneakers for the first two hundred yards of the gravelly trail.  Kick them off when you come to the base of the sand dunes and hike the 1/4-mile trail up to the summit of the dunes.  You can observe the sunset from there, or head down the long, gently sloping dunes to the shore and plop down there and soak it in.  After the sun goes down and the twilight is fading, skip some stones on the water, and if you feel so inclined, take your worship one step further and step into the water.  If it's not too cold, and if you're the sort of uninhibited worshipper who throws up your hands at church, this would be the time to throw off your clothes and go skinny dipping.  Because skinny dipping is an act of worship. Raw worship. 100% pure and natural.
  Wow. Now I'm even more anxious to get to the tropics to work and live and... worship this winter.

  Where do you see the glory of nature and of existence?  Is it close to home, like the exquisite pizza on your table, or is it far away?  How do you honor it; by skipping stones or taking a picture, or throwing off your clothes, or what?

At Home Anywhere

  What does it really take to feel at home in a place that is not your home?  This is one of the worrisome questions that presented itself when Kaye and I started to contemplate and then pursue the idea of downsizing and moving out of our house of 40 years.  We were not used to moving, but we were smart enough to know that there would be challenges that could either make or break our success.

  Twenty years ago, at the encouragement of our three daughters, I arranged a one-year leave of absence from the small town public school system where I had been teaching since graduating from college.  We had decided to move up our dream of visiting mission fields after retirement and offering our help wherever we could.  The girls had heard us talking and had realized that if we waited until I retired, they would be grown up and moved away.  They didn't want to miss out, so they said why not do it now?  And we did.

  We took positions (I taught 6th grade, Kaye was the librarian) at an international school in the middle of the Dominican Republic, and we rented our house to friends who were "in between" houses, and we took off for one school year, and it changed our lives.  Our kids have been spoiled for the ordinary ever since and are all frequent international travelers.

Home, Home-Home or Home-Home-Home

  A while after settling in to our new habitation in Santiago, we noticed that we needed a new way of designating our location during our conversations with each other.  We were spending the Thanksgiving holiday at a beachfront village and were confusing each other by referring to the hotel room as Home when returning from the beach - then the house in Santiago as Home, and then also making the same reference to our Home in Michigan.

The Simses at "Home" in a foreign country, ('89)

  Our youngest, 8 years old at the time, finally solved the problem:   "Home" was our hotel room, "Home-Home" was our house in Santiago, and "Home-Home-Home" was our old place in Michigan.  And that really did help us understand exactly what we were referring to when we talked about "Home".

Feeling at Home Somewhere Else

  So, in our current transition, we can look back on the experiences and challenges of moving away from our familiar home 20 years ago and setting up a new place to call home - in a foreign country no less.  But our lives have changed in the meantime, the kids are gone, and it is just the two of us.  And the answers to the original question are becoming clearer to us now that we have been out of our house for more than half a year.  Here are some of the things we have discovered to be part of our sense of home:

• Being together.  The most familiar thing about our new locations - whether in the RV in a campground or the log cabin or a hotel room - is that we still have each other.  We pursue our adventures together, and that makes every challenge or adjustment more manageable.  When someday one of us is gone, I'm not sure how much spirit of adventure will be left for the other.
• A decent bed.  When we were tucked into the loft of the little log cabin, we had a king size bed up under the eaves that was comfortable and welcoming every night.  Now that we've moved into the larger historical log house, we brought that bed with us, and it's wonderful.  In hotel rooms we seem to be blessed every time, but in the camper there is not as much room.  We are saving to upgrade the camper, because a good bed is important.
• Internet.  We both spend a fair amount of time on the web, Kaye for her writing, me for photography and journalism, and both of us for communication.  We may have scant internet access in the beach hideaway we have reserved in the tropics this winter but have decided that we cannot book places for very long that are off the grid.  It may happen in the national park campgrounds that we plan to visit next winter, but we will have to come to town often.  To connect and upload and communicate.  It's just that important.
• Family and Friends.  Since the kids have left and found husbands and jobs elsewhere, we find ourselves with an innate need to connect with them and with friends quite often.  Again, the internet has helped satisfy this need, and we are in touch with the kids almost daily through Facebook and email.  And we meet up with them in person whenever we have a chance.  We still have friends nearby when we are at home in Michigan, and we are often making new friends in the places we visit.
• Food.  It's interesting that this becomes an issue more at holiday times, because there are certain foods that are essential to the spirit of a holiday, for some psychological reasons, I guess.  Rather like snow is essential to a Christmasy feeling for all northerners.  And it's hard to make Christmas cookies in an RV, because the counter space is non-existent.  So adaptation is necessary.  Fortunately, we have been able to visit one of our daughters and make cookies there if we want to.  In foreign countries, familiar foods are harder to find and their absence can contribute to homesickness.  I don't know why every country doesn't have Kraft American cheese slices, but they don't.  Go figure.
• Favorite Tools.  Even some of the expert travelers we have read on the web have admitted that they have favorite cooking utensils that they carry in their luggage wherever they go.  Some kitchens and hotel rooms don't provide the stuff that is the most familiar to you, so you have to carry your own.  With me it's a small flashlight that I like to put on the night table wherever I sleep.  It somehow provides a sense of security and preparedness that offsets the unfamiliar air of a new environment.

  These are some of the essentials that we have found to be contributing factors to the sense of home that everybody needs.  I think we are doing a pretty good job of mixing our away-from-home adventures with our times of staying at home in the cabin and enjoying the security of the familiar.  And the cabin really does feel like home to us now.

  What is it that makes you feel at home when you are away from home?

Alone in the Middle Part 3 Creation-Evolution

A very old Spiral Galaxy.  Credit: FreeDigitalPhotos.com

  Our beliefs are assembled by a number of key processes, the major ingredients being experience, knowledge, and intellect (or logic).  I believe in miracles because I have experienced them, so they are logical to me.  If I had no experience with miracles, I might dismiss them as fiction, unless of course, I gained knowledge of miracles by learning of them from the testimony of a trusted witness, perhaps a friend who had been healed of cancer or something in a miraculous way.

  When it comes to beliefs about creation or evolution, we have to rely heavily on logic, because none of us have much knowledge or experience to apply, since we weren't around at the beginning of the world or at the last ice age.

  So here we go:  I have a lot of trouble with the logic - or illogic - of the most popular versions of both creationism and evolution.

CREATION:

  Let's talk about creation first.  It is not logical to me that the universe was created in six  24-hour earth days, as most literal creationists maintain (and some of them quite vehemently).  In fact, it is quite impossible, if one takes the Genesis account literally, since the sun was formed on day four of the creation process (Gen 1:14-19).  Scientifically, day and night are produced by the rotation of the earth and the light from the sun, a sun which didn't exist until day four.  So, the first three days of creation were apparently not typical earth days.  What kind of days were they?

  So those who try to be literal about the Genesis account, saying, "The Bible says it, and I believe it", are not really taking it literally, because a literal reading renders a six-day creation quite impossible.

  Twenty years ago, my dad, a minister in a conservative evangelical denomination, was teaching creation theories to teenagers in seminars at the church camp every summer.  One of the most sensible to me, of several interpretations of creation that he presented, was a theory called the Day-Age Theory.  In this theory, the first days of creation are taken to be ages of time, perhaps thousands or even millions of years in length.  As we know, in other references the Bible says that "a day is as a thousand years to God, and a thousand years is as a day." (2 Peter 3:8)  This made a lot of sense to me, because I had studied geology in college (yes, Christian college), and had concluded that the earth must be very old.  Millions of years old.  There's no other logical conclusion to arrive at when observing the earth's strata, unless God is a trickster, which I believe he is not.  He did not plant dinosaur bones in the rocks to test our faith.  They are there, under millions of years of sediment, because sedimentary rock is a product of the depositing of debris over a very long time.

  The Day-Age theory allowed for the fact that the universe could be very old, perhaps 13 billion years old as astronomers are now saying, without undermining my faith in God.  Another illogical aspect of young earth theory or this supposed literal translation of Genesis 1, is the idea that God, who has been around for a long time, would wait until eight thousand years ago to create stuff.  Christians all assert that God has always existed, having no beginning and no end, so why would he wait billions of years until he got bored and finally create the universe and man?  That view always seemed a bit humanistic to me, if you will, very man-centered.

  Once a friend of mine suggested that God had created the light from those distant quasars already on the way at the time of creation.  He meant that the light that we see coming to us from those bodies has not really been on its way for 13 billion years, God only made it look that way.  But why?  So we could believe in a six-day creation?  Again, is God a trickster?  Isn't God truth?  Why would he create illusions to pull the wool over our eyes?  This idea is just not logical.

  Creationists tend to approach their views with an all-or-nothing mentality.  In fact, many young earth creationists will question your salvation if you do not believe it.  The Day-Age Theory presents a solution that is neither heretical nor illogical or unscientific.  It allows science and faith to co-exist.  I like it, and when I first received my NIV (New International Version of the Bible), I discovered that Biblical translation allows for it too, because when I read Genesis 1:2  I discovered a footnote for this verse: "Now the earth was formless and empty." The footnote read, "became" for "was".  "The earth became formless and empty."  And there it was, some accommodation for ice ages, long eons of time when the earth existed as a wasteland before it was recycled by God to make it inhabitable for modern humans who were created (re-created?) whole epochs later in Genesis 1:26.

  The Day-Age Theory makes sense to me.  It is logical, Biblical, and scientific.  And I love science.

  EVOLUTION:

  Evolutionists employ the same blind faith that creationists do, because, as with creation,  they have not experienced evolution - they weren't there when it happened.  Evolutionary processes require very long stretches of time, and the life of a scientist is too short to observe it happening.  They must rely on the evidence they find in nature, evidence that is often hard to find because it's been lost over the millions of years, leaving huge gaps that can't be explained.

  Their favorite reply to questions about these gaps is, "We believe that science will one day find the answer to that puzzle."  It's a very unsatisfactory answer to me, the corresponding counterpart to the creationist's dismissive reply, "God said it, so I believe it," which is really no answer at all, since what God said in the Bible can be interpreted in a hundred different ways.

  And evolutionists have the same all-or-nothing approach that young earth creationists do.  With atheists, it is even more essential, since there can't be any room for a Creative Designer, so this requires the dismissal of a lot of troubling questions and the putting off of a lot of inquisitive thought.

  "How do you explain miracles and the paranormal?"

  "We believe science will someday find the answer to that question."

  "How do you account for the absence of the millions of missing links - these transitional species that should have been found in the fossil record by now?"

  "We believe science will eventually find the answer to that question."

  Hmm... (skeptical sidewise squinty look from me here).

  One of the biggest evolutional leaps that I have had trouble with has to do with the impossible evolution of the sexual reproduction system.  The last time I checked, it seemed that all - and I mean 100% - of the components for reproduction have to be present and accounted for and fully operational in the first generation... or there can be no second generation.  You don't have the luxury of millions of years of adaptation for this to happen.  It is totally impossible to evolve the reproductive systems, male and female, in one generation.  Maybe there was some other system already in place for procreation?  Budding, perhaps?  Like the amoeba?  No. There are many things that can't be evolved, and sexual reproduction is one of them.  In my mind that constitutes a major gap in evolutionary theory and a giant leap of faith if you're okay with it.  I think you have to want very much for something to be true to ignore such glaring problems in your theory, and I question the objectivity of those who do it.

  "We believe that science will one day find the answer for that question."

  Sorry, but I can't muster that much blind faith.  The idea that highly complex systems could evolve from ignorant predecessors is counterintuitive.  It's not logical.

MY HYBRID THEORY:

  I do not have an all-or-nothing stance on creation or evolution.  In matters of physics and geology and energy and matter, I agree with scientists who say the universe is old, very old.  Because I believe that God is very old.  The Big Bang is an acceptable explanation for the origin of the universe, initiated by a powerful Creator.  It makes sense, it's Biblical, and it is consistent with my knowledge of who God is and what he is like:  Old.  And it doesn't diminish his power in the least.

  In matters of biology, I am a creationist.  I think there was a definite point at which every class of organisms began.  I don't believe that real viable transitional forms - missing links -will ever be found, although I will allow for major adaptations within classes of animals and plants.  Shoot, when I look at a photograph of a caveman's skull I recognize people I've seen in my lifetime.  Neanderthal  man was in my 10th grade algebra class, and his name was Alfred. I know, because his head was shaped exactly like that, and when he bit into his sandwich at lunch, his bite was square shaped, very ape-like.  Millions of years of evolution were lost on Alfred.  I'm not kidding.

  

  Okay, I have only brushed the surface.  This has been a very simple and concise explanation of my basic views on the subject, nothing very complex.

   But let me add one more thing.  I don't think it's fair to ridicule people who don't hold the same views as me.  I have heard stories of students being mocked in class by teachers who dismiss their simple questions about evolution science.  If this has really happened, I expect that the obvious is true: this professor doesn't have the answers.  Maybe there aren't any logical answers.  Ridicule is a weapon that is wielded by insecure folks who are standing on a platform of uncertainty.  It would be more honest to admit to the uncertainty, but to be fair, economics may be at play here as well.  Secular scientists are human beings, and job security is important to them.  They don't get respected positions without towing the evolutionary party line.  Of course, it's the same in religious institutions.  Teachers who do not sign the doctrinal statement on creation do not get the job.  If they have questions, they must keep them to themselves, because their job security may depend on their ability to be quiet and stay under the radar.

  Yep, there's a lot of politics in the struggle between creation and evolution.  Fortunately, there are guys like me who have nothing to lose who will put it all out there and question the dogma of both sides so that those who come behind will not be so afraid to ask questions and challenge the logic of a given ideology.  To them I would say, if an idea you hear in the classroom doesn't make sense, question it.  And do the same with what you hear in church.  Institutions, by their very nature, are inclined to perpetuate poop.

  Have a nice epoch.

Alone in the Middle, Part 2 - Religion

  This is the second entry in my series, "Alone in the Middle", in which I am describing a few settings where I am a misfit.  Part 1 was on Politics and can be viewed by scrolling down to the next post below.

  

Robert on the Road.  Alone.

  When it comes to religion, again I am on the outside, and not to my regret but rather to my delight.  I believe that the institutions of the church are not what God had in mind and are man-made entities.  This doesn't make them inherently evil as some of my friends maintain, it just predisposes them to be infected by the sinful inclinations of man, starting with the early churches and increasing exponentially with Constantine in the fourth century when he first established Christianity as the state religion.

  In practice and orthodoxy, I am neither a conservative nor a liberal, religiously speaking, since I am not a participant in any church or denomination.  The Church Universal that is all believers, or the Body of Christ, exists and functions both within and without the religious institutions.  There are wonderful Christians in every church, and there are wonderful Christians who never go to church.

  I am a part of a growing movement in the western world that is a modern exodus from organized church.  In fact, the only church group that is growing in America is the house church movement, and it defies categorizing.  Many have tried to describe it, but with varying success, since there is no central leader or spokesman other than Christ, it is virtually void of hierarchy, and the doctrines and practices vary from one house to the next.  There are characteristics which seem to be common to most house churches, starting with the tenets of the Apostles' Creed but then diverging from there to a refreshing diversity that encompasses a plethora of ideas.

  There is also a plethora of critics who have sought to demonize the movement, and this is not surprising, as humans just normally resist change, and especially religious humans.  Some critics say it is heretical, but the same was said of Christ when he departed from the established religion of his day.  Many of the exiles who are part of this migration maintain that it is the next great movement that God has initiated, since the institutional church has largely lost its way.  In their thinking - and some of them have said this:  Jesus has left the building - and we're following Him.

  The church has become something of a political party with its own unique platform characterized by hypocrisy, bigotry, criticism, and legalism.  It is infected with a general oppressive air that demeans women, the underprivileged, and gays.  And all in the name of Christ who was a friend of women, the poor, and was often called the Friend of sinners.  No wonder so many have left with a bad taste in their mouths.  I think Jesus wants to gag as well, and so he has staged a modern day exodus to rival the original exodus of his people from their slavery in Egypt.

  One of the endemic tyrannies of the organized church is its powerful addiction to the doctrine of hierarchy, an oppressive orthodoxy specifically banned by Christ himself (Matt 20:25-28).   To many it is the cardinal sin of the church that victimizes millions every day.  I would say that at least it is the leaven of the Pharisees that has worked its way through the whole batch.  Jesus said the leaven of the Pharisees was hypocrisy, which makes me ask the obvious question: How is it not hypocrisy for any Protestant to preach submission to authority in the church when the entire Protestant tradition was born out of protest against church hierarchy?  The word Protestant means, "One who protests".  By teaching submission to authority, you deny your Protestant roots.  Yet millions cower under this dogma every Sunday having never realized the hypocrisy of it.

  In his book, Was Church God's Idea?, Marc Winter says, "So much of the devil's subversion, of those assemblies who are called by the name of Christ, has been through the useful tool of titles. When Jesus said, call no man "Teacher, or Father", I think He meant do not give positional headship to any man, that position belongs to Christ alone. When Jesus said it is finished, we no longer needed ANY human intermediary. Now we ALL are a kingdom of priest. Do not let a human usurping Christ's headship, via their title, interfere with you hearing God's voice."

  Watchman Nee is another scholar and writer who asserts that whenever we designate a leader in the church, we displace the headship of Christ.*

  

  But my own philosophy on the displacement of Christ by the organized church points to legalism as the ultimate culprit, a salvation earned by man's own self-righteousness.  The work of Christ is freedom (Gal.5:1), but the work of the church is slavery to a new kind of law that replaces the Old Testament law but that is just as oppressive and bypasses the cross of Christ.  Most Christians just don't get it: we are living in the age of grace and are free in Christ.  "By grace we are saved, not of works, lest any one boast (Eph. 2:8)."   There is no list of rules to live by, no law but the law of love.  "The entire law is summed up in a single command, 'Love your neighbor as yourself'" (Gal. 5:14)  We are at liberty to  experience Christ more fully every day, and it's not done through human effort.  The church cannot save.  In fact, all too often it does the opposite: it condemns us to an alternate hell of human effort, the same as every other religion in the world.

  To some who are reading, my position sounds really liberal, doesn't it?  And by definition it is, since the word means "marked by generosity: openhanded, free from bigotry".  In that case, I don't mind being identified as a liberal, as I'm thinking that  Jesus was the original liberal.  He came to free us from the law, from legalism, from an obligation to obey the rules.  He became our righteousness so we are accepted by God.  Unconditionally.

  If not, then the cross of Christ is good for nothing.  And if the cross is good for nothing, than the church is also good for nothing more than a social gathering, so either way we are in for a good time.  Rejoice!  And be free!

  So this kind of talk is rejected by religious conservatives... and liberals as well but for different reasons.  Either way that makes me a reject.  A reject from all religious institutions.  But I'm not really Alone in the Middle like the Monkey in the Middle, 'cause I'm not even in the game.  Thankfully.

  I reject Christendom.  I embrace true Christianity:  Jesus Only.

* Watchman Nee in his book, The Normal Christian Church.

Alone in the Middle - Part 1 - Politics

Oddball?  Or goofball?

  I am a misfit, a non-conformist, an oddball, a foreigner in my own country.  As a child I was a loner at school, and I got used to being alone in the middle of a crowd.  It must have been a sort of foreshadowing if not a preparation for my adult life, because I still don't seem to fit very well in a lot of settings.

Politics

  The shunning by my friends is especially evident to me during an election year.  In a conversation about politics I have few comrades, since I do not have an allegiance to any political party.  My candidate doesn't exist.  During every election campaign I hear the rallying cry, "Vote your values!"  and I realize again, that if matters of conscience govern my political involvements, than I cannot vote at all, because the major parties in my country represent values that I think are a long way from what Jesus would want.  As a life-long pacifist, I cannot vote for either of the major political parties in America.

  I cannot vote for a Democrat because they support abortion and are too militant and put the interests of America over the interests of citizens of foreign countries on their own soil, basically trespassing on foreign lands around the world.  Jesus said to love your enemies and do good to those who abuse you.  This flies in the face of military retaliation against terrorists.

  I cannot vote for a Republican because they are even more militant than the Democrats and seem eager to advance the national interests, exploiting the citizens of other countries to do so.

  Republicans also seem to have little interest in helping the poor, either at home or abroad.  They yell, "Socialism!" if government programs are proposed to spread out the wealth.  But Jesus helped the poor.  A simple look at the New Testament reveals that the early Christians were all about sharing the wealth in a sort of sanctified socialism that was aimed at making sure nobody went hungry - and nobody had too much.  It was nothing like capitalism, but it was Christ-like.

  I'm not a Christian conservative, because I don't think it would be a good idea to put prayer back in the schools or the Ten Commandments on the wall of the courthouse.  Freedom of religion is guaranteed by the constitution and prevents any religion from levying its beliefs and practices on the unbelieving citizen.  If Christian prayer is permitted in school then so would be Muslim prayer.  A fair compromise would have to be reached.  Hmm, maybe Christian prayer on Mondays, Muslim on Tuesdays, Hindu on Wednesday, Satanist on Thursdays and Atheist on Fridays.  That oughta work.  No really, it's best to keep religion out of the schools and the government.

  And on the flip side of that, I think it's best to keep the government and politics out of religion.  I think it's a bad idea (and against the law) for preachers to speak on political issues as they alienate their constituents who are of a different persuasion.  One of the major reasons that people are leaving the church is that it has become too political.  Voters should not be made to feel that they are partnering with the devil if they want to vote contrary to what their pastor says or if they see that there are other valid issues to be considered than just abortion and gay rights.

  One other observation about religious conservatives: They are the nastiest, meanest people in America during an election year.  Check Facebook to verify this.  Yep, the most unloving, unChrist-like people I know are conservative Christians.  The Bible is clear that God puts governments in place and Christians are to respect their government leaders (Romans 13:1).  But is that what you see happening among your Christian friends on Facebook or at breakfast at the local diner?  Not so much.

  Jesus was not involved in politics during his life on earth.  He seemed more intent on promoting a Kingdom that was above all earthly kingdoms and a citizenship that was not of this world.  He spoke of treating others the way we want to be treated (the Golden Rule) and loving others ahead of ourselves (the second Great Commandment). But that's not the American way.  And it's the opposite of what I see happening in American politics.

  Christians in America equate patriotism with faith in God.  Pacifists in the evangelical church who have the audacity to criticize the war in Iraq or Afghanistan are made to feel as though they are traitors to their country and to God.  That doesn't seem very Christlike.

  

  Okay, so now you see why I am an outcast from all major political groups.  And that's just the beginning; politics is only one of several fields that has me on the outside because of conscience and my ability to think for myself... and my determination to pursue the life of Christ.  Really.  No, not the way the local church preaches it or the way the Republican Party promotes it.  I  mean really!

  There's more coming:

  

  

Alone in the Middle - Part 2 - Religion

  Religiously speaking, I'm neither a conservative nor a liberal.  I think Christianity has reproduced the leaven of the Pharisees in its organized institutions, a virus that permeates every denomination and parish, putting them right back to where religion was when Jesus preached against it.  I'll write about that next time.

Alone in the Middle - Part 3 - Creation/Evolution

  You guessed it, I believe the most popular versions of both creation and evolution are scientifically flawed.  I will tell you what hybrid view I think makes the most sense in this future post.

Alone in the Middle - Part 4 - Topic to be announced

  There are several other ways I'm out of the mainstream; I'll decide later which subject to share.