I was
born again and saved for 38 years. That was 38 years of listening to sermons.
Most Sundays I was there in the front slightly to the left of the speaker.
Looking up with my head cocked to the right, I sat in with my heart ready to
hear what God had to say this week. For you see, God had spoken personally to
my pastor while my pastor prayed. He knew what I needed to hear from God and on
this day, he was going to tell me. Sadly, it was very seldom that I was a good
person.
All sermons
start out by thanking us for coming. Pastors spend a lot of time telling the
congregation that they are deeply loved and cared for. There is mention over
and over again that we are needed for the work and ministry and our presence is
valuable and important. I would sit there and soak up the praise for I was one
of the very best attenders. If there were star sticker charts, my line would
have more than anyone else’s in it. I loved hearing what God wanted to tell me.
I loved being appreciated for just showing up. I would pull out my ENORMOUS
BIBLE and a pad of paper and open my listening ears.
Every
Sunday it would start with the pastor reading a passage from the Bible. I would
excel at trying to guess what points he would make and which accepted doctrine
he would teach. What the pastor in question chose to do next would determine
what I thought of the sermon, because I knew what I would preach out of that
passage--if I as a woman were allowed to preach. After reading the passage and
praying that God would open our hearts, the man would start in on the passage
in earnest.
There
would usually be an emotional attention getting hook. Depending on which
doctrine, the pastor would dig into a funny make them laugh anecdote or a tear
jerking one. Usually it would be a relatable story, which every listener can
put themselves into the story and think about “what they would do in the same
situation.” After the emotionally pull, the heavy points come down about how we
are failing at being good people or how we can be better Christians, but the
bottom line is, “You, the listener, are completely insufficient and I am going
to tell you AGAIN how you need to get more, do more, be more.” During these
parts of the sermon there are times I would think about the doctrines, how they
were being used, how they were convicting me to change, if these doctrines were
a good match for the passage chosen, and if there were better ones to draw out.
If I
felt convicted, I would examine the reasons why. According to scripture, was I
failing? Every time I found ways to find that I was deficient. I would over and
over and over again feel like no matter which doctrine was applied, the Spirit
was speaking to me. I was indeed a sinner in need of progressive sanctification. Jesus had to send
more of the spirit to purge the evil from me and if I was really struggling
with a “set in” sin, I would go forward for prayer or talk it over with a
friend. Always, the answer was found in more connection with the church and in
more connection with Jesus and clearer and better teaching from the Bible. The
ever elusive true interpretation needed to be heard and applied. The only way I
could hear and apply would be to keep attendance up. The overall message was,
“Don’t worry if you don’t have low esteem you will have by the time we are done
with you for the purpose of giving you a made up cure.”
It is
very clear to me that the point of the Sunday morning sermon was to make me
feel in one point special for attending, and in another point completely broken
and NEEDING to attend. Both hooks are equally applied into the deepest
insecurities of the human psyche. I need to be seen as special and I am
fundamentally flawed and in need of a cure. I found my way free by seeing that
I am extremely unique and I am not in any way, shape, or form broken. As soon
as I embraced these truths about myself wholeheartedly, I truly was redeemed
from this poisonous way of thinking.
No comments:
Post a Comment