My First (or thereabouts) Peace Collision

The first time I was hit with a realization that Christianity is difficult I became confused.

I read and had read passages such as Acts 2:42-47 saying,

“42They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. 43Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. 44All the believers were together and had everything in common. 45Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. 46Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, 47praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people."

Early On

Early in this faith struggle I believed that everything that I was experiencing was just this. It seemed as though I was 1) being taught, 2) discussing and learning with friends, 3) taking communion/remembering and 4) praying. And while I participated in such events I was in awe and I believe I actually saw signs of wonder. I had much in common with my community. My community seemed generous. My community seemed to strive to gather as much as possible. And we were glad and sincere as we praised God.

I do not want to down play the purity of that experience. To a large degree all of these things were true. Some were learned. Some were imagined. But in my heart they were true. In my brain nothing seemed more real and present.

I then received a calling to “pastor”.

Seminary

When I came to seminary, the world around me changed. The faith of central a central Illinois country boy would no longer cut it. There were people talking about Calvinism and Arminianism, pre-millennialism, A-millennialism and post-millennialismism… and all the while… they were arguing. I began to argue and take firm stances on things that, weeks before I didn’t care a wink about. I became a little cynical and bitter. I had always been a bit of an ass, but overly passionate and bitter are two very different things.

My peaceful Christianity seemed to collide with the unknown and unfamiliar. I hated it. I thought, “Maybe I am not a Christian.” And, “Maybe I have not received a calling.” For a long time though, I played the game. I thought, “If this is how it is, I must be wrong.” And so I changed, or tried to anyway.

What I didn’t realize at the time was that in changing, I was telling myself that my purity, my experience, my passion didn’t matter and that what mattered was normalcy and evangelicalism and an even flow of things that… weeks ago, months ago… years ago… meant nothing to me. I sold myself into slavery.

Isn’t that what slavery did? Didn’t it grab up people who had experience and passion and belief and ways of life, etc, etc, etc, and tell them, “Your ways mean nothing, join ours, believe ours, be ours, transform to our normalcy”?

Disclaimer

I do not mean to write of Seminary (or Seminary School as I use to call it, before being scorned and giggled at).

What I mean to say is that faith is messy. In my experience anyway it has been messy. I went through many periods where I grabbed and oppressed and whipped and scolded everyone who was different than me. I did this before Seminary and I continue to. But what I am beginning to see is the value of each and every perspective. And this is not to say that were Christianity differs from another view, Christianity is simply, ‘another view.’ It is to say, experience, perspective, way of life, whatever-you-will counts.

We need peace collisions. We need our normalcy shaken and stirred and evaluated.

I need this. Fundamentalists need this. Liberals need this. Humanity needs this, so that we can look and see that God is big. Christ is big. The Spirit, as it works in mysterious ways, is big.