The part you have to do all on your own

Yes, membership in the Bride of Christ is also essential, but you come to face to face with Him completely on your own

My dilemma is this: On the one hand, I have made observation of culture, politics, economics and world-stage events the essence of my writing work. On. the other, I am not the most tightly-wrapped individual, and the accelerated momentum of civilizational deterioration often has me looking for something solid to which I can cling, like someone in a hurricane holding fast to a tree that seems sure not to snap at the base.

This entire site can be seen as my attempt to grapple with being an eyewitness to the upending of norms that have served societies around the world since our species came into its own, as well as the danger our capability for manipulating the basic matter of the universe has put us in.

It’s also a chronicle of my stumbles toward a serious faith walk. My experience in that regard over the past year has confirmed my belief in prevenient grace. Last spring, I was invited to try out a church that, from my glancing acquaintance with it, seemed to be free of the travails with which much of institutional Christianity is beset in our time. That was confirmed as I became more involved. The pastoral staff, the elders, and the congregants generally are sincere, care deeply about each other, and keep matters Biblically based. And it’s been an indispensable source of support for me. I feel like I’m accountable to the folks in my Sunday school class, and that’s no small matter. I’ve already participated in one Bible study, and will probably do another shortly. I have made it known that I’m available to help with worker-bee tasks in preparation for Sunday services.

I’m still sorting out fine points, but they’re not the kind that pestered me when I was still kicking and screaming in response to God’s love for me. Now, it’s more on the level of Calvin vs. Arminius (which, I’m discovering, is a puzzle for far more steeped-in-confident-adoration believers), or egalitarianism vs. complimentarianism.

No, on the basics - the unavoidably mysterious triune nature of our Creator, my sinfulness and need for redemption, scriptural infallibility, and the call to cultivate a gentle heart, strong character, and an eye for opportunity to do Kingdom work in the course of my daily life - I have no further questions.

So the structure that my new church home has given to my daily and weekly life, as well as my thought processes, is invaluable. I can say unequivocally that I belong there.

But the world outside its doors is less hospitable than ever to what it’s about.

And, given that, in spite of a childhood and adolescence spent in an old, established church in our community, I had never seriously engaged with the fact of Christ’s centrality up until, metaphorically speaking, five minutes ago, latent habitual modes of reaction to the world I see around me, read about, and watch on television surface occasionally. No, make that all the time.

Put succinctly, the question boils down to what I am to do. In general, over the course of the rest of my life. On a daily basis. On an hourly basis, as I encounter experiences that rattle me.

A perfectly sane response to this could be expressed along the lines of, “It’s not up to you to serve as a fulcrum for world events. Just take care of your corner of this universe in a manner that glorifies God.”

And that’s precisely why my church is so important. It reinforces that message. It affirms truths that most of the world seems uninterested in.

But my track record for response to those experiences that rattle me invariably wind up involving sin of one kind or another.

I love distraction. Now, let me here make a fine distinction. I also love whimsy, but whimsy is borne of the gift for bringing lightheartedness to the vail-of-tears nature of this world where it’s appropriate. It’s not of much use unless it’s shared. That’s why a lot of my social media posts are intended to bring a chuckle to those reading them. But whimsy does not deflect from the focus we should give to the central questions of our existence. Distraction, on the other hand, is an attempt to look the other way, to set aside the question of meaning and become a self-contained amusement machine.

I’m also inclined toward hot indignation. I’ve improved on this front. I’ve learned much about how to stay out of social-media snits of the type that end friendships and increase the sum total of bitterness in the world. But maybe I’ve just learned a more refined way of indulging my penchant for confrontation.

A simple yet supremely discomforting question arises: How serious am I? Let’s put this way: If someone came to me - a family member, friend, church congregant - entrusting me with something weighing heavy on his or her heart, would I equipped to handle it responsibly? Or, after a few minutes of conversation, would it become apparent that I’m just another wobbly post-modern with no productive insights to offer?

And then there’s the matter of how I’ll respond in that first moment of my existence beyond this realm, when I’m called to account for what i’ve done with this gift of my life, and sincerely thank my Creator and Lord for looking mercifully on me.

Will I be able to stay on point and not be inclined to give the Father of Lights a dog and pony show? More importantly, will I demonstrate a sincerity in my belief that His mercy is exactly, and all, that I need?

There’s one last thing each of us will have to do, and even being a self-proclaimed believer with a good church won’t spare us from the moment of reckoning, from having our heart-of-hearts checked.

This is not an abstract question. Who knows how long I have - how long you have - until that moment arrives?

And here’s the thing: If any of us would really consider the matter, we’d see that this question informs the way we approach life on any and every level: our deepest values, our principles, how comfortable we are or aren’t with being close to other human beings, even our tastes and preferences.

It’s out there, even if every last one of us ignores it.

This may sound weird, but I feel blessed that I can no longer ignore it.