Raise your hand if you've ever thought
something along these lines: "If it weren't for the Sabbath and
Holy Days, so-and-so would be better Christian than me!".
It's ok, you can admit it - I can't actually see
you raising your hand. If it makes you feel any better, I've thought it. I've even had
the conversation. I remember a relative of mine saying it about a
colleague of hers - one of those folks who organized charity drives
at her office and overflowed with the fruit of the Spirit. The only
problem was that she spent her Saturdays at the grocery store or ball
park - at least the ones when she wasn't volunteering at the food
bank.
In the COGs, we practically have a
script addressing people like that. The World isn't all bad, we'd
say. It was the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and
Evil, not just evil.
Even if they don't have the Truth, that person reads the Bible and
can understand parts of it. We'd conclude the person would be "really
teachable" in the Kingdom. Of course, many of us would also
gloat inwardly when that person slipped up and showed their "true
colors". Because we knew they weren't a real Christian
like us.
But every once in a
while, you find that one person you just can't explain. For me, that
person was Maria. (Yes, I have changed her name for privacy).
Mind you, I wasn't
always impressed with Maria. The first time we met, her daughter
swiped my daughter's pacifier, leaving me with a screaming infant. We
had both recently joined a parenting support group, and her youngest
child was just a few months older than my first. She knew the mommy
ropes better than me, so I'd sometimes ask her my rookie questions
during playgroup. I soon noticed she usually had better answers than
the mothers - both young and old - in my COG congregation. And not
just about teething and diaper rash.
If I looked back
far enough in my email, I know I'd find several messages asking Maria
for product recommendations, pediatrician reviews and such. And I bet
most of those messages end with me thanking her for being so
positive, encouraging and gracious. In those days of post partum
depression, a tense church climate and the resulting loneliness,
Maria's example stood in stark contrast to almost everything else
around me.
The
mother of an opinionated toddler, Maria was always interested in
talking about discipline. Parenting books from Focus on the Family
peeked out from between her couch cushions and Little Golden books.
Maria's childhood in a conservative Hispanic family left her
struggling to know when to crack the whip and when to extend grace.
Consistency is important, she said, but still, God shows her so much
mercy even when she is disobedient.
I left her house confused. Maria was a false Christian who believed
the law was done away. What on earth did she think she needed to
obey?
During other playgroups, we'd discuss our financial worries. Many of
us had left full-time jobs and our families were down to one income.
Every dollar counted. Maria weighed in about how hard it was to give
10 percent to her church during this phase of life. But God had been
so faithful to her, how could she repay that with faithlessness? Did
I hear her right? Maria believed in tithing? (Not all Protestants
believe in tithing, and I am not endorsing it here. I'm just
demonstrating my complete ignorance of beliefs outside my COG
bubble).
As our kids got older, we'd share our concerns about public school.
Academics were one thing, but we were more worried about social and
moral standards. Still, this decay wasn't taking God by surprise,
Maria said. The Bible predicted that society would spiral downward as
the end approached.
What? She believed in the "end times" too? That meant she
must believe that Jesus would return to earth again. She wasn't
planning on hanging out in heaven for eternity? It was becoming
increasingly
clear that I had no idea what Protestants believed. In fact, it was
starting to feel like I had been intentionally misled. Yes, there are
Protestants whose beliefs largely mirror the straw men set up and
knocked down in COG literature. But apparently there are millions of
others whose do not. How come I hadn't heard about them?
It was Maria's
unexpected beliefs that first got my attention, but it was her
conduct that really stuck with me. A former social worker, she should
have been the most cynical one in our group. Instead, she gave people
the benefit of the doubt, exuding grace and understanding when the
rest of us were sharpening our claws. I recall only one occasion when
she slipped. The group leaders met at year's end to tie up loose ends
for the next leadership team. We got sidetracked complaining about
one of the incoming ladies. Maria joined in - she, too, had felt the
wrath of this woman's sharp tongue. She called me to apologize later
that night, and I told her she had done nothing wrong - that woman
was bad news. Today I cringe when I realize I was the equivalent of
the cartoon devil on her shoulder, shouting over the still, small
voice of the Holy Spirit.
Gradually, I
stopped asking the women in my congregation for advice. It wasn't
because I was too proud or thought I had all the answers. It was
because I already knew what they would say, and I had seen how their
answers played out in their own lives. More often than not, I'd ask
Maria instead. Though I didn't realize it yet, I was already judging
by the fruits. The answers I was getting from my COG brethren - women
and ministers alike - often didn't mesh with what I was reading in
the gospels. When they spoke, I didn't hear the Shepherd's voice.
I remember the last
time I saw Maria. It was during the buildup to the last COG split my
family would endure. I had an emergency project due, and my computer
wasn't cooperating. She let me use her computer and held my crying
son so I could finish, even though her critical mother-in-law would
soon arrive at her messy house for dinner. I just couldn't make sense
of it. I was surrounded by true believers who were slandering one
another without a thought. Kindness and peace left my congregation
long ago, lodging with this false Christian instead. Maybe it had
been that way all along and I was just too blind to see.
Maria left our
playgroup when school started the next month. I never got around to
asking her where she went to church. Part of me didn't want to know.
It felt like a step toward admitting I was wrong, and I wasn't ready
for that. Yet. But over time, God would lead my spouse and I to the
conclusion we had to leave.
When you're born
into the COGs, trying out new churches is a daunting task. All we
really had to go on was that a) our previous beliefs had serious
problems and b) we knew very little about what Protestant churches
teach. Everywhere we went, we'd hide ourselves as far back as
possible. One place, we tucked ourselves away up high, directly
across from the choir. My gaze kept coming back to one face. It
was Maria. Suddenly, the lesson God had been trying to teach me
all along sunk in. She was a better Christian than me, because
all those years I didn't know what it meant to be a Christian.
While I accepted
Jesus' sacrifice for my past sins, I did not place my faith for
salvation in Him alone. Just like many, many others in the COGs, I
placed my faith in the web of cherry-picked worship practices I'd
been taught to observe. As well as trying to be a good person. That
isn't Christianity, it's Armstrongism - a theology cobbled together
from Judaism, Christianity, the Seventh Day Adventists, Mormonism and the Jehovah's Witnesses,
with a few original doctrines thrown in for good measure. The one
true religion, suppressed for almost 2,000 years, which God revealed
to an apostle/prophet who wasn't even able to predict the correct
outcome of World War II (Plain Truth, September-October 1941, p. 7,
Herbert W. Armstrong.) If you're a second-generation COG member like I was, these details
might surprise you. But this is what Herbert W. Armstrong claimed.
More on that, and why it matters, another day. I promise.
Now, several months
later, I am a member of Maria's church. We didn't choose it because
she goes there, but because we can see how it fostered the spiritual
fruit that got my attention. These days, I'm trying to focus less on
my past and instead identify with my status as a new creation in
Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17). I am starting to see flickers of the
things I saw in Maria and so desperately wanted in my own life. And
now I finally understand why.
Peace
Maria
had peace because she knew God had forgiven her sins and
justified her because she placed her faith in Jesus for salvation
(Acts 13:38-39, Romans 3:20-26). Likewise, I am starting to
understand that Christ's righteousness has been credited to my ledger
(Philippians 3:9). No condemnation remains for me (Romans 8:1). I am
at peace with God (Romans 5:1). I am no longer trying to maintain my
salvation through spiritual growth and praying I am good enough to
"make it" by the end of my life. In that scenario, which is
what the COGs teach, my work is not counted as grace, but as debt
(Romans 4:4). I rest from this work in the spiritual peace I receive
from Jesus (Hebrews 4:9-10), a peace beyond understanding and
explanation (Philippians 4:7).
Joy
Maria
was joyful because she wasn't spending her life wondering whether she
would be good enough to "make it" - she fully realized how
short she fell and how blessed she was to be redeemed (Colossians
1:14). As a Christian, her identity is in Jesus, and so is
mine (Galatians 2:20). Christ loved me enough to die for me while I
was still a sinner (Romans 5:8), so it's hard to argue that God's
love hinges on perfect obedience. My value does not fluctuate with my
latest sin or spiritual victory. I am worth the same every day - the
cost of our Savior's blood. In Protestant churches, His sacrifice is
a focus every week instead of just during the spring Holy Day season
- a practice that is simultaneously humbling and encouraging.
Dwelling on Christ's suffering each week gives me greater perspective
than simply putting Him back up on the shelf for another year after
the Last Day of Unleavened Bread. It makes me much more aware of what
my sin cost. There is nothing cheap about grace.
Love
On the night before His crucifixion, Jesus commanded His disciples to
love one another as He loved them (John 15:12). My old COG ministers
paid this command lip-service, but then minimized its importance
while bashing "so-called" Christianity. There is nothing
weak or feel-good about practicing the kind of self-sacrificing love
Jesus discusses in John 15:13. Following this command, which is what
identifies us as Christians (John 15:14, 13:35), has far-reaching
implications for how we regard ourselves and others. This agape love
is the foundation for the other fruit of the spirit, which is why
forbearance, gentleness or other several other traits listed in
Galatians 5:22-23 seem to overlap. After all, these traits are fruit
- a by-product - of the Holy Spirit living in us and guiding our
lives. They are not simply a habit we can produce by gritting our
teeth and trying really, really hard.
Love. Joy Peace. They aren't just nice ideas. They're part
of the abundant life God wants for you. If you're a reader here,
chances are good that you're frustrated with what you see in the COGs. You
can tell something is wrong. Take a step back and judge by the fruit
- whether it's a minister or a Maria. A healthy tree does not put
forth rotten apples; likewise, hardy fruit doesn't grow on sickly
branches (Matthew 7:16-18).
Don't let fear paralyze you. God will not not forsake you. Satan is
not trying to draw you away from the truth. God is drawing you to
Himself. If you don't hear the Shepherd's voice, choose another
direction. Keep asking, seeking, knocking and He will open the door.
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It is important that you understand; Everything on this blog is based on the current understanding of each author. Never take anyone's word for it, always prove it for yourself, it is your responsibility. You cannot ride someone else's coattail into the Kingdom. ; ) Acts 17:11
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3 comments:
Great testimony and reminder that God can use us in any situation, even with a cog-er!
Thanks, Anon. That is my prayer. God is so much bigger than I ever realized, and works in more amazing ways than I ever knew. He is good.
I remember having an epiphany one day after services, and while standing with a group of church members said that I thought that Mother Theresa was more of a Christian than many of us. Jaws dropped, and the group dispersed. THAT started my journey out of the WCG.
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