out of the amens

I wonder if I ever sat through a sermon as an insider and said ‘amen’ to some scolding of an outsider, but now find myself as that outsider.

Like, I wonder if one of my old preachers said something like, “The guy that says, ‘I don’t have a problem with Jesus—it’s the church I have a problem with.’ Let me tell you something: if you have a problem with the church then you have a problem with Jesus, friend, because the church is Jesus’ body, His bride, His institution on earth, and you can’t love Jesus without loving His body!” You know, things like this get said during those periodic membership-drive or fund-raising sermons.

Today, I think I am that outsider. I don’t have a problem with Jesus, but I do have lots of problems with the church. Of course, I could file a complaint against preachers for calling the church Jesus’ church. It’s a bit of equivocation I think. Just because there is this a sign on the front that says "The Church of Jesus" doesn’t mean it’s really His. It’s only really His to the extent that He actually owns it. It’s not a matter of labeling, I don’t think. Maybe the part Jesus is running is His, and the part men are running is theirs, like a joint venture with Jesus as the silent partner. Maybe there should be a sign out front that says "Our Church" with a tag underneath that says "A Jesus Christ Company". But even if I don’t argue the assertion that everything that calls itself His church (Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant, Ecumenical, Evangelical, Fundamental, Conservative, Liberal, Mormon, Gay, etc.) truly is His church, even if I accept that notion, I still would say I have no problem with Jesus, and lots of problems with His church.

So I wonder if I’m now that very guy that my preachers were so vitriolic towards. I wonder if they knew what I was thinking when I walked up to them if their faces would get red. I wonder if my problems with the church make me a heretic (a divider). I wonder if I’m the bad guy destroying the “unity of the body”. I just wonder if I’m now the object of so many sermons. It’s a little unnerving when I first consider it, kind of like being in a group of people where they’re having fun with nationalistic stereotypes, and then they someone makes a joke about my ancestry. The smile turns into a curled lip pretty quick. But at least in this case, it’s ok with me because I find myself in good company. Paul spent most of the New Testament articulating his problems with the church. So did the other writers. I mean, it’s not all problems with the church—there are some praises for the church in there, too, but there are a lot of problems. One time Paul even says, “Come back to your senses as you ought, and stop sinning; for there are some who are ignorant of God—I say this to your shame.” Ouch. But Paul was really nice compared to Jesus. I read in Revelation where Jesus speaks to the Seven Churches and has something against every one of them except two. And He promises trouble to all but one—the Church in the City of Brotherly Love—which, interestingly enough, didn't have much strength.

Yeah, I’m pretty sure I am several of those guys my old preachers warned me about. In the last several weeks I’ve heard stuff like this again, but as an outsider. One preacher bellowed that the law of God requires you to go to church on Sunday. He really said this. Another claimed that people who don’t go to church are rejecting Jesus. Wow. And another was railing on people who were “Anti-Conservative”, as if that’s equal to “Anti-Christ”. Sheesh. Meanwhile I’m taking part in covert operations to destroy the very words of those wealthy pulpits, like a yeast working its way through the lump, like a vine crawling and covering a fortified wall, slowly and silently tearing it apart. And my only shame is that I can’t take back the amens from when I was in inside the wall.