The reality of the other person is not in what he reveals to you, but in what he cannot reveal to you. Therefore, if you would understand him, listen not to what he says but rather what he does not say. Kahlil Gibran
Who do you listen to? Or better yet,
who is listening to and watching you?
I shared with a pastor recently that my husband and I do not feel welcome in his church and will probably not be coming back even though we enjoy the service. It isn’t necessarily what has been said to us directly but rather what is being said around us that makes us feel this way. I wish I could put my finger on exactly what it is that we are hearing, or seeing but I can’t. There is an underlying communication that we aren’t welcome unless we make ourselves fit in with their orthodox point of view. We feel like square pegs trying to fit into a myopic pin point of a hole.
We aren’t orthodox. We’re confessional as far as Lutherans go, and yet — we feel unwelcome because we’re different. Not wrong mind you, just different. They call praise music “sick and wrong” and we’re praise musicians. They refer to people working the church plants as “nice and well intended, but misguided” — and we’re church plant volunteers. Their deacon speaks of how wonderful he feels being part of such a “godly” group of leaders — unlike his last church — which is our present church by they way.
We’re life long Christians — feeling unwelcome and looked down upon in a Christian church within our own denomination — all in the name of who knows what really. I wonder how a non-Christian feels when they come in their doors? Do they come back – or do they silently leave like we did.
What kinds of things do you say when you think no one is listening? What does your body language look like when you think no one is looking? Who isn’t coming back to your church? Or — another question – have you ever felt hurt and unwelcome in church? How did you handle it?
There is a sentence I never thought I’d say or write, but it’s true. Looking back at my MIL’s photo album from the last 22 years, I can’t help but see it. My 5’4” frame has varied in weight from 127 – 210 pounds and back again since I was 13. Today, I am somewhere in the high end of the middle. My joints hurt, I tire easily, and my eating disorder has stolen more than I can even count right now.
I read Anne Lamott’s Traveling Mercies while I was recovering from my hysterectomy this summer and while I cannot relate to her stories of alcoholism, I can relate to her chapter on bulimia. In that chapter she writes about learning how to feed herself. I read that and realized that I too do not know how to feed myself, physically, emotionally, or mentally. I can relate to her resentment over having anyone control her drinking because I feel the same way about my eating. I have refused groups like Overeaters Anonymous because I don’t want anyone telling me what to eat and when or where to exercise and how. I’m like a two year old with a “Me do it” mentality. I have gone so far as to ask a friend in OA which “control freak” groups to stay away from so that I could stay in control of myself. I didn’t like his answer and I simply resolved to try harder. I’m failing at it miserably by the way – go figure.
Seems I live that way a lot. Try harder and it’ll all work out. I’ve been a member of the Al-Anon Family Groups since 1977, you’d think I’d know better but apparently I don’t always. God and I are working on that.
Redemption’s Heart is still the main name of my blog.
Isaiah 43 1 But now, this is what the LORD says— he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.”
You may notice that I added the phrase “Confessions of a Spiritual Bulimic” to my title. I’ve done that because my bulimia has over time become a life mind set; it over flows into everything I do. I binge on whatever it is that feels good or fills me up at the moment only to find that it doesn’t sustain. Filled with shame and guilt, I purge my emotions, my calendar and sometimes my food and vow to do better next time. It simply fits my story.
For those who’ve been with me since the beginning, you know that Redemption’s Heart does not follow a nice clean churchy path. It is one of starts and stops, highs and lows, mixed with moments of amazing clarity and foggy confusion. I have been rejected by more churches than accepted by; refused baptism by one priest and therefore baptized in a tradition I’ve never belonged to (Episcopal); I’ve met the Maharishi, offered unwitting prayers to Sova (transcendental meditation); met the King of Sweden; believed in the healing power of crystals; studied Wiccan; practiced Tai Chi; read tarot cards as if they were real; contemplated (and eventually rejected) the possibilities of reincarnation; prayed in tongues (yes, I have that gift and will write about it later); prayed with groans when nothing else sufficed; prayed scripture; prayed to saints, dead relatives, God and the Virgin Mary. I have even conversed with Mary in dreams and argued with the devil himself.
Somewhere in there I married a Missouri Synod Lutheran.
My road has been well-traveled my friends, and I, like St Augustine, know that it is God who has called me by name. When I am tired of listening to my own voice, I remember to get still again and listen to his.
Most of my readers were Lutheran when I first started writing and as a result, mixed with a deep seeded desire to fit in and please, I try to keep my posts what I call “Lutheran Friendly.” Today my readership is mixed. Some of you are Catholic, Baptist, Buddhist, Charismatic, Muslim, Jewish, Wiccan, and even Agnostic. We are an eclectic community in this little slice of cyber space and I am thankful for each and every one of you. I simply ask that in our conversations we stay polite and kind with each other.
There will be posts and thoughts about God and life that you can resonate with and there will be posts that will probably violate all sensibilities and make you think. I think that is a good thing.
I’m not here to discuss politics – in or out of church – nor am I here to convince you that I’m correct in my assessments of life or of God. I don’t know all of the million dollar words that makes Christians sound so well-educated. I’m a traveler in this world, just like you. I’m really here because, well – I’m growing my voice and this seems to be the best way to do that. I’m humbled by the reality that many of you have chosen to join me in this journey.
I will still review books, offer resource recommendations and talk about my daily life – perhaps ad nauseam some times and in that mix I will share with you my steps, my stumbles, my neuroses, and my prayers.
Thank you for joining me.
This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart. All rights reserved. August 12, 2010
Just some random shots from our visit to the Botanical Gardens in Chicago, IL. It’s been almost 22 years since we’ve been there. I’d forgotten how beautiful it is.
Redemption’s Heart is getting a facelift. Please bear with me as we roll out these changes in format. In the mean time: I have a question for you guys. What does the phrase “Spiritual Bulimic” mean to you? What kind of picture does that create in your mind?
The SUV is packed, the children are in various stages of consciousness, the dogs will soon be at the kennel and we will be on the road heading back home to Chicago. See you when we return.
It started with fundraisers.. and more fundraisers.. those ended with a celebratory night at the movies seeing Toy Story 3 after our last talent show. Having raised all of the monies necessary to go to National Youth Gathering being held in New Orleans, all our kids could do was wait.
July 16th could not come quickly enough and so the kids met up at church on the 15th for a lock in.
5:00 am comes awefully early but they were on the road.
13 hours later they had arrived along with pretty much everyone else.
25,000 youth and adults together in the New Orleans Super Dome
It was an amazing week of mass events, community service, Bible Studies, Speakers, Skits, Concerts, and sight seeing.
The Jesus PainterGregory Manning
Even the Skit Guys came out to play with our youth.
The Skit Guys
There is more to be sure, but for now… I’ll leave you with this face. D-man came back exhausted and too wired to sleep. I can’t describe it other than to say he just “glowed.”
Photo Credits: Sonja Schneider and Melinda Miller.
Post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart, July 30,2010. All rights reserved.
I’m nine weeks out from my surgery and I’ve discovered that while I handled my female issues with some levity and humor, that humor did not carry over to my coverage of the Synodical Convention or the arguments about our National Youth Gathering. I need to change focus and fortunately for me, a friend provided a wonderful opportunity to laugh.
My friend posted on facebook that “I believe liturgical puppets are a sign of the apocalypse.” At first I thought he was talking about our more conservative brethren, (stuffing is stuffing you know) but apparently not. He was actually referring to churches employing walking puppets as part of their liturgical dance procession.
The whole confusing dichotomy of liturgical dancing aside, I really thought that was funny. Think about it. You are sitting in church – and as part of the opening processional you have dancers, streamers, and walking puppets made up to look like either really large people or – if you are celebrating creation that day – maybe a 12 point buck or something.
I live in the south. We’re a little on the sunburned side when it comes to the backs of our necks, and my church is full of card-carrying NRA members who hunt.
I am fairly certain that if a 12 point buck (paper mache or otherwise) came dancing down our aisles, it would be shot without hesitation. No offense to those of you who employ such creativity in your church, but I really don’t think it would work down here.
And since you know I’m not always right, I cannot shake the image of a Jim Henson Liturgy.
Can you imagine?
You’d have Big Bird as the cantor
Miss Piggy Leading the choir
Oscar the Grouch delivering the sermon
and Cookie Monster serving communion.
No church service would be complete without those two cranky old men in the balcony so add them to.
What images does this new practice bring to your mind? Or Do you use liturgical puppets in your processional? I’d love to hear from you. What purpose do they serve?
This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart. All rights reserved. Please keep comments polite and on topic. I reserve the right to delete any comments off topic or just down right snarky.
A great man of God died this year and my last living memory of him is the day he called me a whore. People closest to him tell me that he loved me a great deal, but I wouldn’t know. He had too much pride to apologize, and I had too much pride to let him see me cry. The sin of pride kept us from being reconciled. My heart hurts, not because of the conversations we did have, but because of the ones we didn’t.
My college room-mate died this summer. My last living memory of her was a fight we had 20 years ago this August. I don’t even remember what the fight was about, only that she passed without my ever being able to tell her how sorry I was and how much I loved her. I have to live with that.
I’ve listened to many pastors speak about balancing law and gospel because they don’t want the last living words someone hears about God to be words of condemnation. They want people to also know about his love and his grace. Relationships are no different. We never know what our last words to someone are going to be.
The last words I use when one of my family is walking out the door, or I’m on the phone are always “I love you.” because I just don’t know. Life doesn’t come with a guarantee for another chance.
If you knew that the very words you are speaking this moment were the last words someone ever heard you say, what words would you use?
There is very little that frustrates and hurts my heart more than piety sorry wrong word, I mean Piosity. In others of course, never myself. (She says very much tongue in cheek) And yet, I’m called not to rebuke or lower myself to match it, I’m called to love — It’s really hard to remember that some days and so I am reminded that I too am a sinner saved by grace and I can allow myself to be met by God exactly where I am. Humbled. Alone. Hurting for myself and for those the pious wound. Prideful and being arrogant about my own (seeming) lack of piety which is a sin as well. Ah yes, pride. Will it ever be removed? will I ever stop feeling the need to correct those who look for perfection in a fallen world when truthfully that need really stems from my own heart and sinful pride? Because when I’m there? I believe I’m a better Christian than the pious. Will it ever end, this cycle of spiritual death and sword fighting?
Only when Jesus returns. Until then, I stumble, I repent, arise, and try again tomorrow.
1 Corinthians 13
Love
1If I speak in the tongues[a] of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 3If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames,[b] but have not love, I gain nothing.
4Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
8Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. 9For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. 11When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. 12Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
13And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love
The best of conversations begin when we remember we are speaking to human beings. That’s not always easy to do, and you my friends know that. I’ve been known to spin a time or two and I’ve stopped short of ripping out a person’s jugular too frequently for my own comfort. Stuffing my feelings doesn’t work either. Silence can be interpreted as approval. My Your Church Sucks post has been receiving a lot of hits. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but I hope it at least gives us a chance to step back and think about what we say, why we say it and who we’re impacting when we say it.
Contrary to popular belief, broad strokes and generalizations do actually hurt people. We are communal and relational in nature. It’s how God created us. We relate to our groups. We are one with our groups. Trash my school, my company, my family, my church and you are trashing me.
I’m not looking to solve that here — we all have choices whether or not to respond, or how we respond. We have the choice whether or not to take offense and while I do at times take offense like it’s free candy, I can also choose to release it and move on.
This weekend I heard several great quotes that fit so snuggly that I think God is trying to tell me something.
If you are not part of the problem then you are not part of the solution. (not talking social conscience here, I’m referring to interfering with other people’s lives and issues. Like don’t get in the middle of a cat fight, that sort of thing.)
Is this really your business? Not everything on this planet is my business. I know, whoda thunk, hunh?
Don’t wrestle with pigs, you’ll get dirty and they like it. via Micheal Hyatt. Very timely post.
You can’t teach a pig how to sing; it’ll just make them mad and frustrate you. from my friend Randy.
What sayings do you have that remind you to watch out when getting sucked into a mess we might not need to be in?
The reality of the other person is not in what he reveals to you, but in what he cannot reveal to you. Therefore, if you would understand him, listen not to what he says but rather what he does not say. Kahlil Gibran
Deana O'Hara - Speaker, Comedian, Writer 
