Archive for Februarie, 2011

How dare we call ourselves the Church?

I was sitting in church yesterday evening when a sudden righteous anger started to run through me…

Here we were, sitting in this hall, singing some song with the words on the screen, reciting some prayer

or confession or something, then listening to some dude preach. And I kept thinking…what the hell are

we doing?

(just to clarify, this post isn’t written in reaction to this church in particular, which I thought was

pretty cool, it’s written to the entire body of Christ)

 

I sat there, a little bored again, my mind drifting and my heart just welled up with anger and pain,

I thought of the 14 year old girl who tried to describe to me in broken sentences, how a man tried to

“put his private part in her bum” when she was 6 years old. Or how a 20 year old felt shy to sit with

me in Mugg and Bean and drink a hot chocolate, because she didn’t have R10 for electricity, or how a

7 year old boy tries to explain to me why he doesn’t want to go home and how other boys call him a moffie

and how his mother is never there…

I felt such anger. Such righeous anger, for the way we twisted the word “church” into meeting on a sunday.

 

I don’t go to church on sundays. Not if I can help it. I get bored of the theory. In fact, I simply don’t get

what people are on about…

 

I think of how people won’t miss a sunday meeting to spend time with a friend in need, or how they would

religiously attend their weekly home group meetings or accountability meetings, or gladly wake up early

to help set up for the service or take care of the sunday school kids….but how I hear excuse after excuse

when I invite my friends to come with me to the Cape Flats.

No one can take the time to spend with one of the beautiful young girls in my group, take them out for

ice-cream or get to know them and why they are so broken. No one wants to help a young boy with

his homework, or an old woman with her drug-addicted son. No one wants to come witness the sadness

and involved themselves in their lives.

 

No wonder all the world knows about “Christians” is that we have funny rules about dating, are mostly

unavailable on sundays and a “Night out” consists of 30 seconds and pizza.

 

How dare we call ourselves the church when we do nothing but meet on sundays to talk about theories?

How dare we call ourselves the church when we do nothing but pray for God to give us a job, a house, a car

or a husband?

How dare we call ourselves the church when all we do is constantly try and revise out theology so we can

get it “just right”?

How dare we call ourselves the church when we have loads of time and money for “our own” but no one else?

 

Wake up! Sit up! Take note! Where do you learn how to pray? When a teenage girl goes the wrong way for the thousandth time because she simply cannot comprehend love or how normality workds due to a past of poverty, rape and addiction…and you sit with your hands in your hair, not knowing how to relate to her.

You learn to follow the holy spirit when an aggressive 14 year old boy grabs another boy for the thousandth time and hits him, because his dad beat him and his dad’s dad beats him and you simply have no more words, only tears, and you just let it run with this boy’s tears and sit there holding each other…

Where do you learn to read the Bible? When a group of volunteers look at you for leadership and you simply have no clue how to continue because nothing works out and no-one else is willing to help and all your strategies and lofty ideas have failed!

We have come to hate the church because we are bored with it! I don’t want to sit there on a sunday and hear how the church needs to change or how we need to act…I want to discuss strategies to change this world! Church has become a place to put our conscience at ease while the world goes to hell…literally.

We are bored! The church offers NOTHING but rules and regulations! It’s time to see action! To do something! What are we calling people to join???

I know this seems harsh, but I feel like shouting “Pick a side!!!!”

Either sit on your lofty chairs singing another song, protecting your own on a sunday, or do SOMETHING, ANYTHING! Don’t wait, just find something to do!

Everyone doesn’t have to work in the Cape Flats. I’ve heard of a group of people that massage prostitute’s feet. Another girl in Stellenbosch opens her home for other students to come and experience a community environment. Do something. Anything! The lonely, the sad, the hopeless are everywhere. We, the church, are lonely, sad and hopeless. Because we have nothing to do and nothing to live for.

Going to a service on a Sunday is negotiable. Doing what Jesus called us to do isn’t.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow things will be better

Tomorrow I’d have washed my dishes, cleaned my house and taken out the trash

Tomorrow I would have ticket off my list, picked up my post and cleaned my car

Tomorrow I life will be good and calm

 

Tomorrow I would have called everyone I haven’t spoken to in a long time

I would have fixed my broken relationship and phoned my mom more often

 

Tomorrow I would have written my book, learned Spanish and travelled the world

Tomorrow I would have figured out how to manage my time better and keep from feeling guilty and waking up stressed

I would have taken the dog for a walk, had a glass of wine on my balcony and spend time with my friends

 

Tomorrow I would have rested well

 

Tomorrow I would have found the man I am going to spend my life with, gotten two dogs and bought a house

I would have learned how to manage my finances better and what my five year plan is

 

Tomorrow I would’ve changed the world

 

Tomorrow I would have stopped to have a chat with the beggar on the corner, or invited my neighbour in for dinner

Tomorrow I would have dried up the tears of one child forever

 

Tomorrow I would have learned to take better care of myself, to look good, to colour-coordinate my outfit and to walk in high heels without slouching

Tomorrow I wouldn’t care what others think of me and wouldn’t be easily offended

Tomorrow I wouldn’t need to cry so often

 

Tomorrow

I would have found the secret to life and happiness

I would have learned what is important

I would have spend my time better and been more productive

 

Tomorrow

 

Tomorrow everything will be better

Tomorrow everything will be fine

When the heat breaks

“Move up” she saw his sleepy figure in her doorframe. She vaguely noticed that the sun was starting to peek through the crack in her curtains.

A part of her registered that she loved the way he opened the car doors for her, told her she was beautiful even though he had no reason to, but that this was simply a command and not a request.

Her body obeyed. Half awake she became aware of his body next to hers. They lay akwardly next to each other on her three quarter bed. Partly due to uncomfort and partly due to the fact that she really wanted to, she gave in and turned to him, wrapping her arm around his shoulder and wedgin her legs between his.

She felt his hand on her back. His fingers gently moving up and down. Softly. The moment had almost a dream-like quality. The entire focus of her world became his hand and it mixed beautifully with her dreams.

She could feel his heart beating against her chest. The fingers on her back felt more explicit than any other touch she had ever experienced. Probably because they both knew that anything more was crossing the line. And this was waltzing beautifull ontop of the line, playing with toppling over, both knowing they wouldn’t.

In the distance she heard his cellphone from the living room, where he had slept obediently the entire night. She hadn’t expected him earlier. Knew that he fell asleep quickly but that the morning sun would wake him earlier than her. She remembered vaguely that they needed to get up.

She didn’t want to let go of the moment. She hadn’t felt this feminine in a long time.

She breathed in one more time and closed her eyes to the world. His cellphone rang again. He let out a small moan. She let out a content sigh. She moved her middle finger along his collarbone, not wanting to open her eyes.

Later she noticed the crispness of the mountain. The heat of the previous week had broken and a light breeze was teasing through her window.  She felt almost like she’d experienced a piece of home in a foreign country. She felt lighter.