[Note: The following is part of my processing of various deep-seated anger/bitterness issues in my heart, not all of which are well-founded or even true. It's unfiltered and somewhat raw. This is how I see things and feel about them right now, which is not to say that the way I see things is the way they are. The words are strong, and bitter, and inflamed, and may be poisonous, because that's the state of my heart right now about American/modernized Christianity.]

So, as I’ve been praying and processing through various issues in my heart, one of the first things that came up was my intense dislike of conservative Christians, especially analytical pundits who dissect God and theology into neat packages.

Recently I realized my dislike goes deeper - I am intensely repulsed by American Christianity, or, more generally, westernized/modern Christianity. I am discovering that there are many facets of my dislike, some are:

• I am angered by the many evils committed by Christians against non-Christians throughout history and even today. Close members of my family have personally suffered greatly at the hands of Christians, some of them even respected pastors or priests.
• I am disgusted by the many hypocrisies and moral blindness of the church and churched peoples across the world. Christians actually believe they are living sinless lives and are incapable of evil. Conversely, they often believe everyone around them is in sin.
• I am dismayed by the thinking patterns of Christians who really think nobody can do anything good if they are not Christian. I am frustrated by the intellectual arrogance of Christians who think they know everything about God and that anybody who is not a Christian cannot know anything about God.
• I am saddened by the complete lack of unconditional grace in the church, where people have to behave and look a certain way in order to be accepted and loved by people that sing about the “amazing grace” of God.

But, beginning today I need to start processing my deep-seated disgust with the institution known as the American Church. God is encouraging me to start working through this disgust, to move beyond disgust to actually doing something constructive about it. I can either stand off to the side, scoffing at the failures of the church, or I can step into a deeper nearness with God, hear his heartbeat, and encourage myself and others to walk a more vibrant journey with God.

For those of you who may be unfamiliar with what church life looks like here, especially any of my family members reading this, here’s the brief description: Church here in America is a one-hour-a-week “event”. People come to this event dressed nicely, and they sit in rows facing a stage. They sit quietly, for the most part. Children squirm uncomfortably and are thoroughly bored until they are released at some point during the “service” to go elsewhere for “Sunday school” with other kids. The parents are usually thoroughly bored too, but they put up with it because “it’s good for them.”

The service is organized and orchestrated down to the minute: a set number of songs to begin with, maybe a short welcoming announcement, another song or two, then the sermon (about 30 minutes, more “biblical” congregations might have as long as 45 minutes devoted to the sermon), then a closing song, then a benediction.

Week after week after week. “Going to church” means going to this event. People try to make this fit all kinds of needs - but it keeps failing. For example, people try to “connect” with others during the service, but they can’t - they have to keep quiet during the actual service, and then afterward everyone is bustling around trying to find their kids and leave.

And there is no space in the service for personal reflection on God or the Bible - you are told what to reflect on by the “worship leader” whose role is to “lead” the congregation in worship, which always means trying to sing along to lyrics projected on a screen as talented musicians perform the song. It’s sorta like group karaoke, except that there’s a band already playing the song. It would be fun if the song was a silly rock’n'roll number, but it usually is something with deep words with powerful imagery but you have no time to process the images because the band has set the song to a rock’n'roll tune and they’re playing right on along while others around you shout the words. So you end up being groupies at a rock concert, except that the rock band isn’t enjoying the song either, it’s funny sometimes to see them trying to look all solemn and somber as they sing powerful words about God’s blood accompanied by a heavy rock beat. This is “worshiping the Lord”, you are told.

There is no space in the service for a time of prayer with God, you are told what to pray by the person who comes up and says “please join with me in prayer… Father Lord, …” and then dives into a mini-monologue. People around you grunt in agreement as various politically charged statements are made, and sometimes you’re not even sure what the prayers are about, but this is “praying to God”, you are told.

The focus of the service is the teaching, the sermon. The rest of the pieces seem to have been tacked on for convenience and for meeting various other needs - the music, the children’s Sunday school, the offering, the once-a-month communion (other very confusing pieces of the spiritual life that the church tells you what to do about). And the teaching depends entirely on the teacher, the pastor. If he’s a good pastor, if he speaks well, he may have an engaging story or deep spiritual insight to bring. Otherwise the sermon will often be filled with Christianese lingo and theological terms, and often times the speaker will flatly contradict himself or even well-established truths about God - but you have no way of asking questions or clarifications. Even if you went up afterward to ask him, you’ll find him mobbed by others, ranging from the spiritually hungry (”I’m having a tough time with Jane, can I meet you this week?”) to the erudite Christians (”nice message, pastor!”), leaving you to wonder what he was talking about. This is “studying the Word”, you are told.

In any case, the teaching is, we are told, the important part of the service. If you don’t come to church, how will you learn???

Don’t get me started on that. If Christians are dependent on a 30-minute lecture every week to learn about God, we are dead.

It seems to me Sunday mornings present a very confused view about Christianity. People say that Christianity is not about Sunday mornings. That it’s about following Jesus the rest of the week. People say the kind of spiritual community I’m expecting happens in “small groups” or “life groups” that meet during the week. I’ve tried many, and I’ve even led a few. Let me tell you - unless intentionally designed otherwise, most of them end up being mini-Sunday-mornings. They are often artificial and plastic, and if they do work they end up being cliques that newcomers find very hard to join.

And I am so saddened to think of the vast richness of spiritual life that Christians here completely miss out on because they think this is all there is to spirituality. Many of them are frankly threatened by and afraid of more spiritual lifestyles, because they think it’s too vague, too wishy-washy, too liberal with grace, too open, too humanistic, too comforting, too self-focused, too sinful to try and experience God’s mystery.

Why is church like this? Why do we think people would even want to be part of this kind of spirituality? Why would I invite any of my friends to this, let alone invite any of my family? The richness of Hindu spirituality and community far surpasses the precision timed clinical deadness of American Christian life.

Last summer my mom and dad came out to the US to visit Alexis and me. They were in NYC one weekend, with the Amma group of devotees who had organized a week-long spiritual event for devotees to meet Amma, the divine mother. We visited my parents in NYC that weekend, and accompanied them as they participated in the event. It was a bit of a culture shock to us, especially for Alexis. We spent Saturday mostly dazed, wandering through the chaotic mass of people inside the huge fellowship hall - people were singing, chanting, talking, eating, laughing, crying, meditating, praying, buying, everywhere.

On Sunday morning, as we were walking to the fellowship hall where the Amma group was gathered, there was a sign advertising an emergent church service next door. Excited to have a more familiar worship event, we quickly excused ourselves from my parents for a couple of hours and went next door to the church service.

It was such a contrast. I really enjoyed being back in a familiar environment, but later as Alexis and I talked it through, we realized that it really paled in comparison to the rich spiritual community taking place next door. It was strikingly clear to Alexis that the “contemporary emergent” worship service had very little to offer to the people going to the Amma gathering. She was saddened that Christians, who ostensibly knew and loved following Jesus, didn’t have the community that the people next door did, who in many ways were clueless about Jesus (as we later found out when we got yelled at and labeled all kinds of hateful things by Amma’s closest disciples when Jesus came up in conversation).

The church here needs to rediscover its identity, rediscover grace, rediscover faith and trust in the deep richness of God’s mysterious love. We have made Jesus fit into our little boxes and now, in true American spirit, are trying to sell these little boxes to others.

Alexis and I recently watched a short video called “Rhythm” by a group called Nooma. The video was about music and life and God and learning to listen to the song that God has written in our hearts, about learning to be in tune with God and playing the song with others, many of whom may not know God or the technical details of the music behind the song at all. I was deeply moved and saddened at the same time - I yearn for my life to be an instrument in tune with God, making music with others around me, playing the beautiful song of God, and I’m so sad that so many Christians don’t even know the song, that all they do is criticize others who are trying to play it. I’m so sad that we are not humble enough to learn from them, to try playing with them, merely because they don’t know what the notes mean or who the author is. I’m so sad that I’ve become like those critical negative Christians, unable/unwilling/afraid to play the music, and angry that others are so good at it. I’m so sad that we are missing out on the rich beauty of the song that God is singing in our hearts.