poetry of the recovering evangelical

different people read my blog for different reasons, and there are some new links to the lemon, so i am taking a second to explain this poem.

i am a person of faith, but i am sort of in recovery from a long period of submersion in the evangelical church.  somewhere in the late 90s i began asking questions that should not be asked.  the answers to those questions have taken me on a journey to where i now hold fast to a faith which is in some ways radically different than the one into which i was baptized.

while i will always happily wear the label "evangelical" out of gratitude to the people who told me the stories of jesus, i will also to some extent always now be in recovery from the wounding to my humanity that was done by evangelical christianity.  in the evangelical world, there is only right doctrine, and demonic evil with no middle ground and no grey areas and no grace for the difficulty of the task of being human.

i have been exploring my parting with some of the core views of evangelical faith in poetry, because in prose, sentences seem to begin well, and then run into a wall, but in a poem, my voice is more free to just keep talking.

this is a complex poem because it was written in the red rock coffee shop.  which is a non profit space for arts and coffee which is being offered to the world by the very evangelical church that i am griping about.  so it is perfect that i have to acknowledge evangelical christianity and my debt to it, even as i do a bit of venting about it's view of what will save us from ourselves.

blame it on the huehuetenango


i hold in my hands a tiny cup
of single origin espresso
a perfect pull
of huehuetenango

yes
it is fair trade

little sugar
like they do in italy
BOOM
wow, the smoky flavor
it reminds me of something ...

they say the fires burn there
with a heatless flame
that never dies,
bathing you in pain
but never consuming.
they say this is reserved
for those not under the blood
who don't acknowledge the lordship.

they tell me that i need to understand, that god has a reputation to protect
and can't be seen in my company
him being perfect,
and me
not

they tell me not to worry
god has donned human flesh,
    like a hazmat suit.
walking bravely into the contaminated area
to bring us good news.

they say my remaining time can't be predicted, it could be decades or microseconds
they tell me i need to make sure,
    before that final surprise package,
to save myself by accepting the free offer of salvation.
they tell me once i die and finally see jesus as who he really is
full of glory and love and wisdom
without the witness of the crusades
    the inquisition
    the catholoic pedophiles
    the protestant slavers
    or the non denominational spectacularly coiffed televangelists
to cloud my vision.
when i finally see him as he really is,
it will be too late.
like trying to place bets on a horse race after it's over.

before this once in a lifetime offer expires,
before the last grain of carefully measured grace falls in the hourglass,
before the winged monkeys come to bear me away to the castle of fire,
they tell me i need to declare that jesus is the lord of my life

they even drew for me a diagram
which represents my life
to show how pretty it would be
if i put the cross, right in the middle
like a child matching up the red cube
with the red square shaped hole
i will win the prize
i will be saved

and ooooooh lordy
the polyester hell you end up in after that salvation
with the unquenchable flames
of smiling people who are "fine" every sunday
and want to know how your "walk with the lord" is doing
as if it were a third person in the room
whose name nobody can remember
but is also "fine"
sip the crappy perked coffee
what's for lunch?

how happy you will be to sing on that morning
of god's glory and the beauty of the far heavens
    where the lord sits waiting for you to die
so that all the ugly repulsive parts of you,
    that you are learning to hate as much as he does,
will finally be gone and you will at last
be fit to be seen in the presence

i need to pray more
i need to read my bible more regularly
i need to hate the sin and love the sinner
i need to take detailed notes when listening to sermons
i need to memorize more scriptures,
    including the gps coordinates of key passages
i need to get to work, be part of the family business
i need to see the angels helping me cross the street safely
i need to avoid listening to the false teachers
i need to hold fast to the teachings of the apostles
i need to be ready to give answers about the hope within me
i need to understand the deep significance of the hebrew word for "know"
i need to let go and let god
i need to shine the light of jesus in a dark and desperate world
i need to inventory my spiritual gifts
i need to discern my calling
i need to find an accountability partner
i need to keep piling more of this on, as i gain the strength,
growing in maturity,
ever vigilant ever striving

to not be like the hypocrites, the pharisees that jesus yelled at
who had a list detailing
exactly what god required of them
but couldn't see him when he was right in front of them
inviting them to sit and eat and drink.

invited to a feast,
i wonder if i am even brave enough
to take a second sip.

Comments

[Michael]

That is profound and beautiful.

I have been discussing some of these issues with friends lately. I wondered if you would mind me reproducing this poem on my blog (obviously referencing it as yours) to aid in this conversation? I know very little about the Emergent church (I'm a part of a non-denominational, basically evangelical congregation in South Africa) but I know something of frustration with black-and-white religiosity (In myself and my congregation).