reflection

I grew up Baptist. Okay, I grew up Southern Baptist. In the Southern Baptist church we worship God on Sunday morns, have choir on Wednesday nights and put money in the Lottie Moon offering plate at Christmas. This was normal for most of my life. I enjoyed it for the most part. Most thankfully, Heights brought me a basic understanding of the love of Jesus and placed me squarely within the church family. But, in the end I left. The violet phase.

Martin Luther, John Calvin and Jonathan Edwards – All great minds that lead the cerebrally-driven Evangelical denomination. College, so it was a good time to learn about theology and mission – even if mission was “over there.” Buildings say a lot and when we moved into a new one (just like the move in 8th grade), there just wasn’t as much community thereafter. I spent time working and really understanding “church” more. In the end I left. The indigo phase.

Smaller, more intimate, communal perhaps? Ya, house churches are sweet. I’ve been in the big church all my life, this is what I need. Less people telling me what to do and how to go about doing it “with excellence.” Short-lived idea, still apart of the same service idea. I left before I really participated. The blue phase.

I suppose the Charasmatic, Pentecostal and various offshoots comprise the redish-orange areas, that the Methodists lie in the fairly violet with the “Bible” and non-denoms in the greens or so. There’s plenty more cultures, communities, and models that are much bigger than me throughout the globe, but this blog is small and about my experiences. I spent most of my life in various shades, feeling comfortably bluish, not really caring to step out into bold yellows, then settling into some pleasantly green middle-ground.

ROY G BIV

Some say you can’t see the forest for the trees. In the church I think we miss the rainbow for the colors.

After spending a week in Hawaii; hues, tints, and luminosity fill my mind. The flowers, the vines, the sands, the mountains, the waters, the skies, the sunsets; all filled with wildly vibrant life. It rained on my family while we canoed up the river in Kauai last Tuesday morning. Just as the shower came to an end, a rainbow flowed from one side of the bank to the other. There, directly in front of my eyes, beautiful in its entirety: the Noahic covenant. The rainbow. God’s sign (to the entire earth) that he won’t destroy his beautiful creation ever again. Overarching the sky, the rainbow stands as God’s magnificent promise to redeem the cosmos.

We live in the “light.” Sometimes we take parts of the light and amplify them to our standards or culture. In doing so, we lessen the impact of the spectrum by focusing in on one specific portion.

Maybe I’ve come to a new place, one’s that been wrought by a long rainy season, but thankfully, the covenant still stands. For far too long, I’ve been so wrapped up in the colors that I couldn’t see the whole creation. But what if the beauty of the Lord shines most fully when we can step back and enjoy the view?

I suppose that’s what I’ve been trying to do lately – not miss the rainbow for the colors. Not exchange the spectrum of the Lord’s light for the individual shades of denomination, sacrament, and tradition. Yes, those colors can be gorgeous, but they can miss the totality of the rainbow.

The beautiful rainbow. The glorious convenant. Both an appreciator and a participant.

Stepping back and allowing the rainbow to speak for itself reveals it to all of creation, as was the original intent. The rainbow is not to be churches. The rainbow is to be the Church – the body of Christ reflecting the love of its Creator and Savior to a world wrought by rainy days.