“My church is for people who grew up wishing they believed in an afterlife, who wanna be so close to God that you could reach over and make out with him”

Today’s entry could be called “The day where Kim get’s out of her theological depth,” but when I heard this line in Watsky’s poem, it meant nothing to me. In fact, I was a little offended at the implication that one would “make out with” God. It seems so vulgar, so human, and so wrong to even imply such a thing. But the more I’ve thought about it the more I’ve realized that this line has conversational implication past shock value. When the line is taken apart, it’s saying something that I really agree with.

I heard a sermon this weekend about how lucky we all are that God decided that we were worth it, and promised us heaven some day. While I had no problem with that, it did get me thinking. I believe that the modern church might be putting too much emphasis on some day, and not thinking nearly enough about the now. I think that some days, that promise of heaven is both the biggest asset and the biggest stumbling block of our faith community.

I think that promise of heaven creates “investment banker Christians” those of us that want to do “just enough” to get in. We tithe exactly our 10%. We show up when we’re supposed to, we do and say the right things, hoping to some day have invested enough to make the cut. I don’t think that’s what we’re called for, but having taught for a few months now, I do realize that there’s a difference between someone who’s working for a pay off, and someone who’s working for the love of the job. I will always prefer the second type of students, and I think God prefers the second type of followers. I think the modern church needs to stop posting Heaven as a bribe.

I also think we need to stop using it as a deterrent. I have a friend (who reads this blog, and might recognize themselves in a moment) who says, he doesn’t mind Christians, and thinks they stuff they do is for the most part well intentioned. He even believes there is a God, but just can’t bring himself to believe that there’s any life after this one. It isn’t that he believes in reincarnation. He just thinks you get one shot at life, and you should do with it all that you can. During one late night talk, he said, “I could be a Christian. I think Jesus probably was the son of God, and the ultimate sacrifice, I just can’t quite believe that when we die our spirits leave our bodies and travel to some place in the sky, with things as concrete as houses and streets. That just doesn’t make sense to me.” He has gone to different services, and different denominations, and while he can fit right in, that lasts about as long as the topic of heaven can be avoided. Eventually, it always rises to the surface, and is followed by a time of being ostracized for being some how LESS of a Christian. And so he considers himself a rouge believer, someone forced to be outside of the church and the faith community because he just can’t get on board with one of the major core-beliefs. I guess I’d prefer a church with doors that open a little wider than that.

And then we get to the shock line. “Who want to be so close to God they can reach over and make out with him.” But once the shock wears off, what’s it actually saying? Working with Jr. Highers and High Schoolers this summer, I’ve noticed something. Flirting is work. Being in a new relationship is work. Heck, being in an old relationship is work. You have to find time for this person, compliment this person, learn about this person, and invest in this person. It’s a TON of work, but we’re happy to do it. Down right giddy to do it. It seems to me that churches frequently encourage parishioners to treat God like a guy they met on an online dating service. “When you have time, try to shoot him a few lines.” Or “As long as you’re still getting in a good chat session once or twice a week- you’re relationship is probably good.” It occurred to me that when I look at how much time I spend thinking about my human relationships and caring for or investing in the people in my life, in comparison to how much time I spend with my Creator- my priorities are out of whack.

Now I don’t think God needs us to flirt with him. After all, he is the creator and perfect-er of love, and has been ready to be in a relationship with us since the beginning of time. But free will means the relationship can’t be forced, we have to want him back. So yea, maybe we need to flirt with God, not for him… for us.

Last night I drunk texted God...

One of the last things I did before leaving South Dakota was to teach a unit on poetry. In my quest to find some unorthodox poets I stumbled upon 21 year old, George Watsky. This skinny, falsetto voiced, white kid does slam poetry praising virginity, declaring what he would do as president, bemoaning speaking on the phone with girls, and does it all with an ever-present biting humor. But the piece that made me laugh the most, and think the most, was one called “Drunk Text to God”. In it, Watsky declares that he’s “stalking a church” (he means starting, because “come on, no one spells drunk texts right”) and then goes on to discuss what his church would be like. While some of it is just silly, some lines have haunted my thoughts since I heard it. One of the things that’s been on my mind lately, (which is no surprise as I come back to the land of a thousand churches) is this idea that we’ve been defining “church” in a pretty homogeneous way for a really long time. No where is this as apparent as sitting in Kresge Hall in Metro UMC, a church that has been standing in the same place for 90 years. So I thought maybe I’d take a page out of George Watsky’s book, and spend part of my summer thinking about how I would change things if I were stalking a church?

“Last night, I drunk texted God, I just wanted him to know I’d been thinking about him..”