Why do church productions have to be so second-rate? I watched a kids Christmas program tonight and couldn’t help noticing that the Christian community desperately needs some writers. It didn’t help that aside from the poor script, the production was lame and the kids simply didn’t know their lines and cues. Now I’m not trying to be a pessimist. It’s a kids’ program. It’s about watching the kids on the stage and enjoying what they do no matter how they do it. That’s the great thing. Nobody cares if they miss a line. I was just amazed at how off the whole production was. The script was lame, but I’ll get to that. The production needed help. They probably suffered from a lack of practice, but the sound was way off (miscued music, microphones in flux, and feedback-dreaded feedback), and the lighting didn’t know any cues. Perhaps both of those could be explained by simple flukes, someone got sick, the machinery didn’t work right, whatever. But it still came off looking lame. Then there was the actual performance. The kids didn’t know their lines, they didn’t know their cues. It was actually funny watching them pause and look at the director, who was frantically gesturing and mouthing lines. Then the kid would suddenly remember and start a line, only to stop when they realized it was the wrong one. Now I know I shouldn’t harp on the kids and I’m not going to. Things like that happen. I’m just trying to point out the overall effect this musical had. Perhaps I wouldn’t have been so annoyed with the script if all the other aspects came off well.

But then there’s the script. Why do we let our kids be so preachy and moralistic? Is there something inherently wrong with forcing kids to do evangelism. I don’t know, it’s something most people never question, but I cringe when a group of children recite evangelistic lines as part of a staged performance. It has this brainwashed, 1984 quality to it that I find kind of scary.

And what’s with churches jumping on the dot com bandwagon? This musical focused on a URL, and the whole thing was about a group of kids who answer questions people email in. The stage was set up with a giant computer screen. At least this time there actually was a URL that was mentioned in the musical. The last time I saw a church using dot com language, the URL didn’t exist. Unfortunately, the URL stated in the chorus didn’t actually contain anything relating to the theme of the play, just propaganda images for download.

What happened to church productions that are actually funny? It seems like an embarrassment to make kids put on such a lame production. I know, I know, I should just enjoy the show and smile at the cute things the kids did. But I just wish the church would focus less on cutesy, and more on content. Let me rephrase that, less on cutesy, more on delivery. They have the content, it’s just so bland and clich

What do you do when you don’t like your church? Find another, some people say. But is it really that simple? I hate church shopping, and the idealist within tells me I should be able to get along in whatever church I’m at. But that can’t be completely true–there’s theological differences that you just can’t agree on, right? Or should we all be able to come together in Christ, no matter our differences?

The idealist within tells me church should be a place where all are welcome, regardless of race, class, and belief. If the church couldn’t handle differences, even theological ones, how would it have lasted so long? The idealist within tells me if I’m not liking my church the problem is me. I’m not involved, I’m not paying attention, I’m too hung up minor details, I’m too selfish.

But the pragmatic within tells me church needs to be a place that functions. If I can’t get involved, what’s the point? If I fall asleep in the pew, that’s a problem. If I can’t worship because the worship leader with the poodle hair is driving me nuts, I need to find another way to worship. It’s not my problem, it’s their problem. Perhaps that’s taking it a bit far, but there is a practical side to it. If your church acts out its free will ideas in a way that contradicts my predestination, we’re going to have some problems. Even Paul and Barnabas disagreed and split.

Then the idealist within rises up again and tells me things never get better when people leave. What does that accomplish? If you have a problem with the church, and it’s a genuine problem (not the annoying poodle-haired woman), the answer is change. Start moving to bring about change yourself. The church will never become a friendly church if people leave because the church is unfriendly. You have to do your part to make the church friendly.

But I’ve been coming for a year, says that pragmatic. But you can’t shop for a church like you shop for a sweater, says the idealist. And back and forth they go.

I think church should be a place where you feel accepted, whether it’s your first time, or your seven-hundredth. I think church should be a place of community–not just a Sunday morning affair. I want to see church happening outside the four walls we deem church. I think church should be local–I don’t think church can work when you have to hop on the freeway to get there.

And so all the ideas pop around in my head and I wonder which one is right. Is the problem with me? Is the problem with the church? Is it a little bit of both? I don’t know. And all the while I realize I’ve ignored my youth pastor’s one piece of advice: become a part of a church. I’ve been going to one church for over a year, I help teach a Sunday School class, and I warm the same section of pew every week. But would anybody notice if I wasn’t there? Or would it just seem like there’s a little more room up near the front?

Some things truly amaze me. Christians are a perfect example. The election hoopla suddenly has a lot of Christians on their knees, which I suppose is a good thing. But why suddenly rush to your knees now? Why not a month ago? Why not six months ago? Why did you get up from your knees in the first place? Is the fact that the election is contingent on a few hundred votes in Florida mean that God is suddenly going to shine forth and let his voice be heard? Is your God only powerful enough to sway a few hundred, not a few million votes?

A lot of Christians are saying very interesting things about what this election means. I find it rather arrogant to interpret current events as God’s divine action. Who are you to know what God is doing? It requires a lot of backpedaling. Assuming you can pick one candidate that God would choose (which you can’t), you could pray for God to let that candidate win. If the candidate wins, you claim God answered your prayer. What powerful faith you have. If the candidate loses, it must not have been God’s will. Now God is going to take us through a time of judgment and persecution to refine his people. Perhaps in another four years we’ll have the privilege of God’s favor.

Somehow I don’t think God works like that.

I’ve heard others say interesting things about God; that he doesn’t care about Social Security or prescription drug benefits, but he does care about abortion–the Bible says so. If God doesn’t care about Social Security, what does he care about? For some seniors, Social Security is their livelihood. Are you saying God doesn’t care about some people’s livelihood? If he doesn’t care about my livelihood, what else doesn’t he care about? Suddenly you have a very impersonal God. I’m sorry, but my God cares about little insignificant things in my life. I’m not saying he’s going to damn me to hell for drinking Pepsi instead of Coke, but he does care about the details of my life.

And then there are Christians who complain but do nothing. I probably fit this bill. We complain about problems but we don’t work to fix them. We decry the evils of abortion, but a pro-life vote every four years is all we can manage. We plead for someone to help the poor and the hungry, but we look the other way and coincidentally live on the other side of town. We demand that prayer be allowed in schools, but do little to support the fledgling Bible studies already in existence in high schools across the country. I realize we’re all busy people and can only do so much, but if that’s the case maybe we shouldn’t be so vocal.

And I love it when Christians forget what they’re called to do. Go and preach the gospel, making disciples of all nations. It’s a pretty simple command. But the ‘go’ part troubles us. That involves going into a world that isn’t very friendly. And once again we start complaining. But Jesus didn’t say, “Go and complain.” At least not in my Bible.

Since when did abortion become the calling card for Christians? It seems to me if you are a Christian, you are automatically pro-life. If you are not pro-life, your status as a Christian becomes questionable. Abortion seems to be an extremely volatile subject for Christians. This election year it seems a number of Christians are voting solely on abortion, ignoring or at least relegating all other issues.

When did abortion become the Christian hot potato, to the exclusion of other seemingly Christian issues like racism, caring for the poor, loving the outcast, and salvation? Don’t get me wrong, these issues are important to Christians, but none of them stir up response like abortion. If you even remotely come across as anything but pro-life, Christians take notice and question your logic, your beliefs, your salvation. But if you hate white trash (one example of a modern day Samaritan?), no one thinks anything of it. Is either virtue “more” Christian? I remember Jesus eating lunch with the outcasts, but I don’t remember Jesus lecturing the Romans for infanticide. Not that I’m trying to claim Jesus wasn’t pro-life, but it seems like he was more concerned with other issues. Why aren’t we as concerned with the same issues?

And if abortion is such a hot Christian topic, what are we doing about it? This question really bothers me because I can’t come up with a suitable answer. If Christians want to be ecstatically pro-life, that’s great. But they better be doing something about it, not just slapping bumper stickers on their Buicks and voting for Republicans. If abortion is such a big deal, do we act like it? I honestly don’t think we do. For all the people who have told me how pro-life they are, I don’t know one of them who has talked to a teenage single mother and helped her through such a life changing event. I don’t know a single pro-lifer who has loved a woman seeking an abortion and spent the time necessary to show that woman Christ–whether the friendship resulted in abortion or a baby. Loving regardless of the results is what Christ would have us do. Yet are we doing that? If it’s happening, I don’t see it. Instead I see t-shirts, web sites, bumper stickers, books, magazine articles, pamphlets, graphic stories, and protest signs. Not a one shows the love of Christ; a love so world stopping he stood at the drinking fountain and talked with a woman who has had six abortions; a love so amazing he ate dinner with an abortion doctor; a love so dumbfounding that he cried precious tears for an aborted life, then took the would-have-been mother in his arms and died on the cross for her.

People don’t listen. When it comes to politics very few people have an open mind. I wrote an article for my school paper, basically making the point that Christians should move beyond strictly voting Republican, and examine all the issues–especially moving past polarizing issues like abortion. My assumption was that abortion is no more important than education or taxes or social justice or the death penalty. So why vote strictly on abortion and pay so little attention to the other issues? Apparently some people didn’t get that from my article.

I find it very frustrating. I wish I could sit down with each person and hear their reasoning. They obviously missed my point and I’d love to be able to explain it again. I’d love to hear their reaction and figure out why they think the way they do.

Christians confuse me. Many Christians respond in anger and outrage to abortion, they start quoting scripture, and tell graphic stories of what actually happens during an abortion. Now I’m not in favor of abortion. Make sure you hear this, I do not condone abortion. I do not accept the practice. I do not like abortion. But I find it very perplexing that so many Christians take such a vehement stand on abortion, yet seem unmoved on other issues. The Bible is full of examples of God favoring the poor over the rich, yet few Christians vote this way. The death penalty is another troubling issue. Texas has put to death more inmates than any other state, and George W. Bush fully supports this practice. Yet pro-life Christians don’t seem to mind.

And we get so bent out of shape over abortion, as if it were a new social evil. Abortion has been around for hundreds, if not thousands of years. At some times abortion was considered completely acceptable by Christians. The church understood life to begin at “quickening,” which was when the mother could feel the baby moving. Therefore if the abortion was terminated before like began, it was perfectly acceptable. Hence a woman four months pregnant could have an abortion without the church calling hellfire down upon her. Yet now we seem to know when life begins. Christians declare abortion the ultimate evil. Then comes the abortion pill, recently legalized by the Food and Drug Administration. The abortion occurs even earlier in the pregnancy, yet we still consider it abortion. Now here’s where it gets fun, turn to methods of contraception that unnaturally mess with a woman’s hormones and make it nearly impossible for her to become pregnant, and Christians seem to fully support them. Some Christians seem to have a drawn a fine line between where life starts and where it doesn’t.

I find it troubling that Christians can so vehemently reject abortion and so nonchalantly accept contraceptives.

Why am I always worried about what I get out of worship? The point of worship is to glorify God. He is the primary audience member. Yet I’m worried about myself. Is the room hot or cold, do I have to sit or stand, are the songs slow or fast, familiar or new, hymns or praise choruses? For some reason all of this matters to me and I get all bent out of shape if a worship service doesn’t fit my expectations. If the drummer plays a style I don’t care for or if the worship leader gestures like a preschool teacher I get annoyed.

But since when was the worship service centered around me? Worship is for God. I don’t matter. The value of worship is not judged on the spiritual high I walk away with. Worship is judged on whether or not God is pleased.

And yet I still strive for what I want. I shop for the church that suites my needs, I look for the upbeat worship service that I like. Yet that’s not really what’s important. Don’t people make the church? So why do I base my church selection on programs, pastors, and the style of the service? Do I even know what priorities are?

How does God determine sin? Somewhere is there a listing of every sin that could possibly be committed? And does God keep track of every one of those? And does he categorize sins? Is one sin worse than another? It seems to me that viciously knifing my roommate to death would be a worse sin than driving 66 mph in a 65 mph zone. Can sins be categorized as felonies and misdemeanors? I suppose sin would follow the same rules as crime. You are a criminal if you commit one crime; you are a sinner if you commit one sin. The severity of the penalty and the frequency of the action matter not. In simple terminology, you are either a criminal or you aren’t; a sinner or you aren’t. But as humans we have a concept of a worse criminal. There’s a petty thief, and a vicious slasher. One is a horrible criminal, and the other is still a criminal, but the word seems rather harsh.

I know there are simple Sunday School answers to these questions. Sin is sin in God’s eyes (as if we can presume to know what God’s eyes see), and they are all equal sins in that they all separate us from eternal glory with Christ Jesus. Perfect answer for you, ten points in Theological Trivia. But you’ve failed to grapple with the question. Try again.

When does a sin count against me? Is it in the actual physical act? Or as Jesus alluded, does sin begin in my mind? Does the very thought of driving 66 mph in a 65 mph zone constitute a sin? And what if the Bible doesn’t talk about it? Certainly the Bible says murder is a no-no. But what about something as taboo as masturbation–a subject no one likes to bring up? The Bible never says ‘Thou shalt not–‘ I won’t go there. But you get my point. Sure, some people dig deep into the Old Testament and pull some verses out of context to say that semen should not be allowed to touch the ground, therefore masturbation is a sin–which sounds all happy and logical until you realize there’s a plethora of teenage boys out there who are now sinners in their sleep, vile commiters of the nocturnal emission (not to mention the larger plethora of boys guilty of the first offense). Then there are others saying it’s quite all right, have fun. Of course those words leave a funny taste in your mouth when you consider Jesus’ words to not commit adultery in your heart. While masturbating can you successfully keep all adulterous thoughts from your mind? No pun intended, but it seems like a very sticky issue.

And what about a passage of time when what was once a sin is suddenly no longer a sin for a particular person. Marriage is the only example I can think of. In a space of time having sex transforms from being a sin of adultery to an act of loving confirmation. And what is that space of time? Is it only official when the bride and groom leave church, or can they get it on in the middle of the service? Now I’ve offended you, but can you answer my question? When does the couple suddenly become married and sex no longer a sin? A profound change occurs in that forty minute service, and for once I’m beginning to see a mystical holiness in the Catholic understanding of the sacraments. Something greater than we can understand must be going on if what was once a sin is suddenly acceptable. And what makes it acceptable? Is it the words of an ordained priest, or will the stamp of the state of Minnesota be adequate?

These are all legalistic questions and I highly doubt God is that concerned. But does it just come down to a relative answer? God knows my heart and he knows when it’s a sin and when it’s not? Gee, that’s great for God, but what about me? Or do I not matter?

These questions and more are why God didn’t put me in charge. Sometimes you just have to let God be God, and be content with that.