Published February 11, 2008 by

The Problem of Christian Suburbia

suburbs-art.jpgWithout totally squashing the post prior to this one, there are some issues in settling into tackling living as a Christian in suburbia.

It’s easy to get comfortable. It’s easy to get involved somewhere and think we’re doing our bit. Or to shell out cash to alleviate our guilt and compassion.

I’m not sure how to determine what is a satisfactory level of service or giving. We may have to keep searching and stretching ourselves and taking further risks. I’m inclined to think that it leans well to the later. with our dependence on Jesus our strength – lots of balance and with less selfish emphasis on burnout.

“Much of what I had done before along the lines of service was guilt induced. When I would hear a horrific story, I would want to respond quickly, write a check, and be done with it. But I have met many incredible people who are responding with their lives, and that has exposed something in me. I have been given a lot of joy in life, but I’ve also missed something. All of my life I have been grooming my faith, but have missed something about the purpose of that grooming. If I understand scripture at all, I have to know that to enter into the suffering of the poor and the oppressed is to know Christ and his suffering.”

– Sara Groves

How do you find out how to do that in a society where it isn’t always blatantly obvious? Yes there are clear levels of poverty and homeless in Australia, but I feel kind of confused for the incredibly ignored ‘rich’. It is untrue to say that the rich have perfect lives. Where to enter that suffering?

Jesus hung out with tax collectors, right?

The quote that inspired me is from a post over at Radical Womanhood, the rest is really worth reading.

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Published February 11, 2008 by

Suburban Christian

flyingfish01.jpg

I didn’t like the CD at first. Far too pop. Now it’s sneakily grown on me and now and I can’t get away from it. Brooke Fraser – Albertine. Let me lump some lyrics at you.

If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy
I can only conclude that I was not made for here
If the flesh that I fight is at best only light and momentary
Then of course I’ll feel nude when to where I’m destined I’m compared

Speak to me in the light of the dawn
Mercy comes with the morning
I will sigh and with all creation groan
As I wait for hope to come for me

Am I lost or just less found,
On the straight or on the roundabout of the wrong way?
Is this a soul that stirs in me,
Is it breaking free, wanting to come alive?

`Cause my comfort would prefer for me to be numb
And avoid the impending birth
Of who I was born to become

For we, we are not long here
Our time is but a breath
So we better breathe it
And I, I was made to live
I was made to love
I was made to know you

Hope is coming for me

I was having a conversation with a friend recently about her mum’s thoughts on being a Christian in middle class suburbia and how both natural and difficult it is. (Some of these are my extended thoughts).

The Church and Christian events such as conferences are exceptional at preaching the ‘go get out there’. There is nothing acclaimed what-so-ever about living to your fullest from your house in the suburbs in your everyday job. We uphold these ‘Christian’ Heroes as those who have gone long and far and done big things.

I am not saying that there aren’t individuals that should wind up as overseas missionaries – because I grew up in a household where that was precisely the case and it’s something that has deeply influenced who I am now. There is a need for cross cultural mission. And it’s not as glamorous as it sounds.

Likewise, we shout the praise of working in a church, as a pastor, youth pastor, as someone who runs some enormous ministry. And we jump on the assumption that many church ‘attendees’ are just that. Attendees on Sunday. And many of them are.

I would like the encouragement put there for the majority of Christian suburbia. To actually be effective right where they are.

Yes I help lead a youth group. A very strangely small youth group for the size of our church, but it’s not the role that I love. Geoff tells me that I fluctuate a lot in how much I like leading youth. There is usually several times a year I swear not to be involved any more and hate rocking up on Friday nights. But I love, I love the kids I’ve gotten to know. I love seeing their growth and maturity. It’s so much more important.

Oh just be interested in people. Just love Jesus and what he’s on about.

What more is there to being a Christian? The collective claim positives on fame, but individuals don’t give a rats at position really.

And position is so far from the point, church is sometimes a scary place.

Take risks at home.

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Published February 11, 2008 by

Cheese

I’m still giggling (and I don’t giggle too often) at the title of her blog,

Poets have been curiously silent on the subject of cheese

My little sister Emily has finally joined the bandwagon my sisters tried, although I haven’t seen movement there in quite a while.

The post is classic Emily. I’m pretty curious to see where it goes.

I’m hoping that in trying to blog some of my thoughts or my everyday happenings then maybe just maybe I’ll be motivated to think and ponder things more than I normally would. Normally whenever I begin to ponder something it doesn’t last very long…most particularly because I kinda have a short attention span when it comes to some things…and I tend to be easily distracted. However if I blog about some stuff (descriptive I know!) then I actually have to think enough to get it into a form in which people can read…and hopefully understand and the extra bonus on this is, if I have it written down…my slightly dodgy memory won’t be a problem.

So Em, here’s to blogging through winter and beyond. (And if you need any help with wordpress do ask)

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