The Driver is Taking a Walk

It looks like I’m not welcome at my church now.

Yesterday when I started checking the web to see what the world was up to, I decided to see what my pastors were saying on Facebook. I had quietly unfollowed them weeks earlier, but I had a practice of checking on them from time to time.

I unfollowed them, which means I was still their Facebook friend but did not see their posts on my feed, because I was tired of some of the things they were posting. They kept putting up photos of their leisure time, which appeared to be copious. They were at this restaurant or that restaurant, while other people–the folks who pay their bills–were working or taking care of other responsibilities. They were at the beach. They were at the spa. And they posted stuff from a false prophet named Doug Addison. It was relentlessly, mindlessly positive stuff; he thinks God is thrilled with what Christians are doing, which is facially absurd.

When I saw these things, I felt I was seeing how ineffectual I was at the church. I was growing, but I couldn’t tell the leaders anything helpful.

Yesterday when I checked on them, I couldn’t find their page. I think you know what that means. I had been blocked. My pastors blocked me on Facebook.

What do you say about a thing like that? The church has maybe fifty adult members who attend regularly. Everyone knows each other. If you go to Steve Munsey’s gigantic church, and he blocks you on Facebook, you still go to church, because he will have no idea you’re there. It’s different when the church is small and maybe 25% of the members are relatives of the pastors.

I haven’t been told what I did to provoke this. It had nothing to do with my blog, because I don’t get any hits from Miami.

I didn’t go to church today. It would be way too awkward. I knew I was on my way out, but I had assumed I would be directed to another church before leaving this one. I got pushed out without warning.

Today I got up and had a lovely McDonald’s breakfast and watched Dennis Gage on My Classic Car, and then I turned on some Julie True music and prayed in the Spirit and with my understanding. I assume the church is receiving another sermon right now, about the necessity for loud, obnoxious worship music. I didn’t have to deal with that.

It was wonderful. I didn’t realize what a battle church had been.

Often, I’ve sat at church praying God would correct them and help them find his peace. I have been jarred by horrible bellowing as well as sudden bursts from a shofar a very loud lady brings to church. A shofar is a ram’s horn with a harsh tone. She can only play B-flat. I know that because a music team member with perfect pitch told me; the inappropriate randomly timed blasts were getting to him.

I have dealt with a lot of provocation at these times. It’s a little like being a school bus driver. I wanted to enjoy God’s peace and love, and instead I was fighting people who were ignorant and immature. I don’t know of a nice word for “ignorant.” I don’t mean it in a nasty way. They didn’t know what they were doing. That’s what I mean. And I couldn’t tell them different, because they would not listen.

Today was so different. I drifted into God’s warmth and peace. I felt like I couldn’t get up. I still feel the peace. And while I was sitting there enjoying it, I realized why it was so good. I wasn’t surrounded by people who were fighting with me. The kids weren’t there. This must be what it’s like when you’re married and you run off for a weekend with your wife.

It’s spectacular. It’s wonderful. I see what I’ve been missing. It’s so nice to put people down and let them wander off in the directions they chose. It’s so pleasant to be with God alone for a while.

God just showed me that this is what he deals with. It’s like feeding babies. It’s an honor to be blessed with a baby and to feed it, but it will spit food back at you, throw tantrums, and pee on you. Those things aren’t fun. When you can get away from the baby and have a meal with an adult, it’s a big, big deal. And it’s okay. You don’t have to carry the baby 24/7.

Am I being critical of the people at my church? Yes. Sorry; that’s how it is. I won’t pretend I’m not. They need to get it together. They need to learn to respect people who hear from God.

What would the church be like if they had services like the experience I had today? I can’t even imagine. People would be growing. They would be receiving and sharing revelation. They would be clearing their heads of the lies of the prosperity preachers and false prophets. They would live in power and victory. They would feel God’s love and peace instead of pretending. It would be so beautiful.

Can’t do it. I can’t make them receive a blessing.

Someone sent me a horrifying picture this morning. The church is raffling off a piece of jewelry to finance the orphanage one of the pastors is trying to open. It’s not a pretty piece of jewelry; I wonder if a man picked it out. Anyway, they’re having a game of chance, at a church. Crazy.

Charities use auctions all the time. I see nothing wrong with that, as long as they don’t do it during church services. But a raffle? That’s gambling, and gambling is bad. It opens supernatural doors. And here is a big difference between auctions and gambling: if you are confident that someone will pay for what you have, you won’t be afraid to have an auction. Raffles are a con job to motivate people who otherwise would not donate.

It’s not good. I was startled when I saw it, and so was the person who told me about it.

I am looking around for a new church. I will not be a deacon. I will not clean toilets. I will not be an usher. I will walk in, sit down, give whatever God tells me to give, and leave when he tells me to leave. If they do crazy things, I will be quiet about it, except outside of church. I’m not going to start dragging people again. I’ll wait for God to send me people who are willing to stand and walk.

The peace and freedom are tremendous. I will be very careful about risking losing them.

I hope this is helpful, as always. Don’t mistake an organization for your tie to God. Don’t mistake a church for the body of Christ. Don’t mistake carnal chores for your work in the kingdom. Don’t feel that you have to stick with people long after they’ve made it clear they can’t be helped.

Knowing whom to drop is more beneficial than knowing whom to pick up.