Mega Grace

I went to a church service last night with a friend. It’s a mid-week service of a Southern Baptist church aimed primarily for the 18 to 35 age range. There is a smattering of folks on either side of that bracket that attend. I met a woman whose family is from Southern California. She said, “I hear you moved here from LA. What part? Were you really from LA? Because a lot of people say they are from LA and don’t live anywhere near the city proper.” I didn’t know what her definition of “LA proper” was. I felt immediately on the spot to give the right answer. What if my answer was Arcadia? Was I then less from Southern California than her? She who lives in Nashville. We talked about Venice for a while. My friend mentioned that the only time he had been to Venice was during a Hemp festival (didn’t know they had such a thing). He said, “Not exactly the experience I was expecting.” I told him he had the quintessential Venice experience.

I’m not one for mega churches. I am a bit agoraphobic. Can’t really deal with crowds unless I am on the stage in front of them. The last vestiges of the performer in me. I also tend to feel like I am not having a meaningful exchange. The large number of people usually corresponds with less intimacy. Not always, of course, but often enough to make the experience feel generic. This service was fitted with all the usual accommodations for appeal to a younger crowd. Dark room, cool stage lights, bitchin tight band, modern graphics behind the lyrics, etc. It was pleasant enough. The musicians were amazing. The songs were…well…they were fine. There was one lyric that really stumped me. “If grace were an ocean, we’re all sinking.” Hmm…can one drown in grace? Is that really the best metaphor? I empathize with the songwriter. Sometimes you are too close to the song to see that there is just one couplet that needs ten more minutes of thought. I get annoyed with bad metaphors in songs. “Nothing compares to your embrace”. Baloney. God never gave you a hug. And metaphorically, it is odd.

This church was all about grace. Most of the songs featured it as a central theme. The prayer before the sermon was all about grace. The sermon was not about grace. It was about friendship. Although I am still struggling to figure out what the point of the sermon was, it was well delivered. It was just unclear what the take away was. How was I challenged to be a better, godly person? And can I become better or godly without grace?

I’m not sure how I feel about the liberal use of the word or concept of grace. I don’t go to this church. I don’t know their understanding or definition of the concept. And you can’t judge a place or their beliefs after one viewing. But it got me thinking. In general, I wonder about the repetitive use of the word grace. The statements that say, “It’s all about grace” or “I am nothing without grace”. Really, I have trouble with any statement that removes the person from the equation and makes everything either because of or about the divine’s interaction. Seems that the common Protestant definition of grace is the power given to us to see Godly characteristics developed in our lives. I think that concept can get warped into something little more than taking an aspirin. I have a headache, I take an aspirin and my headache goes away. Compared to, I am a bastard, I ask for grace, and I am not a bastard anymore. Not through my merits, of course. It was all God. Nonsense. Even with supernatural assistance, I still have to make the choice and take the steps to not be a bastard anymore. I have to see the behaviors reflect a deficiency in my character. And I have to take measures to see my heart changed not just my behavior modified. My objection to the prolific and common use of any theological concept is that it can often lead to violating the blessed and sacredness of free will. If we do nothing on our own, if nothing is our choice, if we are not partners in this faith journey, then we are puppets. I struggle sometimes to see how to maintain my own identity while walking with God. I have felt that venturing down the road of being a Christ follower meant that I was no longer a participant. Or at least, my participation meant the eradication of my humanity. I don’t think that God wants to eradicate our humanity, but rather our sin. We are to be sanctified, but does that mean we are no longer ourselves? By obeying his commandments, do I loose all sense of self? Is that what he wants?

The worship song that ended the service had a line or two that I can’t recall exactly, but stated that the love of Jesus was all that we needed and all we ever wanted. It was put in the first person. I stopped singing when it got to that line. It isn’t enough for me. It isn’t all I ever want. And I am not sure that it is all he wants me to want. Be willing to forsake all for? Yes. But is forsaking all an obligatory part of accepting or receiving this love? My brilliant sister once said, “The scripture says that ‘Man shall not live by bread alone’. That doesn’t mean we only subsist on the words that proceed from the mouth of God. There is still bread that we require. And it is ok to want and need bread”. He didn’t create us to subsist on his love alone. And I can’t sing that line even if it is hyperbole. It isn’t honest. If it isn’t everything to me, does that mean that I love this world too much? I honestly don’t know. In any case, the service made me think. Even if it was in reaction to it, thinking is always a good thing.