The Last goodbye.

Wayne and I were supposed to go to St Helen’s and Constantines Greek Orthodox Church today. It’s close by our house and a place where Wayne really feels drawn. We’ve been preparing to go there all week, reading up on what to expect, etc, etc. Lo and behold, when he woke up to get dressed this morning, we realized he doesn’t own any slacks—only jeans, and we had been warned not to wear jeans to church. Bummed, we decided to check out the Maronite Catholic church around the corner, which is also beautiful and intreguing. It’s called St. Michael, the Archangel’s, and is nestled in the heart of downtown.
We looked online to see what time mass was at, only to discover that the church doesn’t have a website and the phone number listed at the dioscese of Raleigh was wrong. Bummer! But it was totally the Lord. We realized that it was 9:30 and that we had just enough time to scoot and get to Manna for the Global Outreach Celebration which has been going on all week.
This is the week where Manna brings in all of its Ministry partners which the church supports either financially, or in prayer, or in any other way they need. The missionaries explain their situation and what their life is like, and by hearing what God is doing around the world the idea is that we (the congregation) would be moved to do our part in “advancing the Kingdom.”
I had fresh in my mind all of the things which our beloved pastor, Michael, had been pushing over the last few years alongside his fellow leaders in this “third wave of the Spirit.”
During worship, I just couldn’t get my mind focused on God. Wayne and I shared some really intimate moments last night for the first time in what seemed like a year, and I was thinking about him sitting next to me and wondering what he was thinking about what he was seeing and hearing.
Manna had up some new, expensive looking decorative elements and was doing a new thing with the lights during worship. I saw my friend’s husband walk in, who just came home from a really long deployment to Iraq, and I watched them hug and kiss and got teary-eyed peeking into their joy. I saw another friend’s family whose son has a huge tumor in his brain. The son was gleefully participating in Worship and I thought about how that must touch the heart of God. By the time I was really ready to worship, we were already settling down to hear some of the tales of missionary wowiness.
The first “Event” was super disappointing, a makeshift SriLankan crusade which enabled us to participate in the event like a fly on the wall, only they had done the same bit last year and it felt “done.”
The second was a man sharing his testimony of spreading the gospel in North Korea, and was very touching. It reminded me that the whole point of all of this is our place in Heaven…. And solidified our assurance of salvation.
Then came the sermon. I was not shocked that God had placed us here to hear this sermon, that happens to me often at Manna. 
He started off by talking about the “two types of churches.” One was a socio-religious organization, the other was a biblically mandated structure. He was making the point that his vision for Manna Church wasn’t to have a “religious holding pen” for believers but a place that is actively chasing hell. Ideally, he was right, and the connection was made, I’m sure, in the hearts of the congregation. But I couldn’t help but be frustrated at the fact that his own church in many ways fit more into the type one church than the “biblically mandated” church--- he claimed that biblical churches use the LAY PEOPLE to do the ministry and not the “profesionals,” and yet time and again we have hit road blocks in ministry because we can’t get the “professional credentials” they ask for. He claimed that the church’s money isn’t about making US comfortable but about making the world know Christ, and even talked about how poorly “cared for” our own church building was because the money should be going to the outreach--- excuse me???? The church offices at Manna look like the president’s living room. We definitely don’t penny pinch with regards to the audio visual equipment. And I wish my kids nursed longer JUST so I can sit on the luxurious couches in the nursing mother’s room. Now I realize that money is a touchy subject, especially there , because Michael’s goals for Manna church are GROWTH. He believes with all his heart that a healthy church needs size, because he believes what he was saying in this sermon--- that the PEOPLE are the ministry. But I think somewhere between his head and his heart, the message is getting scrambled.
I don’t intend for this blog to be a critique of his sermon, but I found it ironic that we were there for this “motivational speech” on why we should be participating, dedicating our lives, to advancing the kingdom of God on earth.

You see, Wayne and I don’t have the opportunities that many people have. We can’t afford to spend even five dollars on a “women’s luncheon,” let alone a couple grand to “join in” on a missions trip somewhere exciting. Some might say, well then God is n’t providing, but the thing is, He provides through people. At least, that’s how he always done in our lives. God pays our bills, but there is naught left over for trips around the world, let alone around the country. There isn’t anything left for us to make something for someone else. In fact, I recently for the first time in months had an excess of bread mix and gleefully whipped up some pumpkin bread for that muslim family I am always wanting to bring food to. And guess what? They can’t eat it. It seems so frequently that this kind of thing occurs in our life!

We have painfully but faithfully given up ALL of our possessions to follow the call of God where ever He may lead three times now in our marriage. We have danced for church leaderships high and low and done “all the right things” to show that we were serious, to the point of having to repent for trying to “prove ourselves” to the leadership instead of standing on God. That’s why we no longer sit in the front at church. We were trying to people please too much and forgetting it was about pleasing God in secret.

I personally speak seven languages. I have connections to “unreached people groups” in European countries where Jesus isn’t even in the vocabulary. My parents own land in a village in France where it is said that the devil OWNS the territory and small statues of him are erected to perpetuate and commemorate this fact…. and I have connections to entire colonies of diseased and dying people who desperately need Jesus. I have pleaded with our churches time and again to HELP where I saw a need, to help me if they didn’t want to do it themselves.

I want to make shawls for cold poor people but I can’t even get one person to send me five four-dollar skeins of yarn, let alone to invest ten hours or so in making one themselves! I want to send bibles to France but I can’t get a church to pay for them. I want to make socks and blankets for Israeli orphans but I can’t get anyone to help me. I want to share the gospel with the old lady who works in the “fromagerie” in our little village in the alps, before she dies, but I can’t get there. I want to stand on the mountain near that village where a priest once hiked JUSt to plant a cross that would be visible from all sides of the valley and pray, but I can’t get there. I am an arab jewish Catholic Jesus Freak ----- making me a true “be all things to all people” person. I can fit in almost anywhere…. And I have a deep, resounding (and reciprocal!) LOVE for people along the mediterranean and in the middle east that I simply cannot describe with words. I was an english major, I can teach english. I can sing. I can pray for people. I can teach the Bible. And that’s just me!!! My husband has his own amazing sets of talents and gifts which he desires to use for the glory of God, and together we make an amazing team.

But God hasn’t used one single one of those things to “advance the kindom.” When I went to France this last year, I was opposed on ALL sides and felt that I had barely planted seeds--- maybe just scattered them and prayed for a plant! I was alone and not covered in prayer, and so I felt that nothing that happened there really MAtTERED. I didn’t have an enouraging testimony, only a depressing one upon returning.

I get so upset at events like this one because they select worship songs with lyrics like: “Here I am Lord, Send me,” or “Jesus, I invite you to spend my life.” Or “I will go, Lord, if you send me!” and it’s like I’m SCREAMING “I WILL GO, LORD!!!!” But not one person sees me.
At one point during the sermon, Pastor Fletcher made a point to shake his finger at those people who are afraid to go to places like China with a suitcase of bibles. He basically made it a point to shame them for their cowardice (all in love, of course) and tell them they should go.
I looked at my husband and thought how that must have felt like someone slapping him in the face. Wayne would probably die of joy if someone handed him a suitcase full of bibles and a plane ticket to China.

How often had he tap danced in front of this same pastor, as if he were jumping up and down shouting: “Me! Please pick me! I’ll go anywhere and do anything!!!” and Pastor looked around the room, completely oblivious, and went: “Really? No one? Okay, I’ll go.”

Wayne has written letters to his district pastor asking for theological guidance, anxiously checking his mail every ten minutes, and received nothing in return. He has bared his very soul to these guys and begged for them to help him find meaning in what he was doing, so that it wasn’t just “vanity,” but still, he gets nothing. And when he asks them to pray, he gets back chiding comments about how they aren’t sure it’s God’s will for his life. These guys are supposed to help him figure out what IS God’s will for his life, for his family. Equipping beleivers, right? But in the end, every lesson has been directly from God Himself, in His great mercy, ever the grace giving God that He is.

I don’t know why God never made the way for us to “get into ministry,” through the evangelical path. Manna church is in the top tier of churches in the world that are of this particular type of DNA. Our pastor is one of the most sought after pastors in the world. If it didn’t happen here, it’s not going to happen in any of them.

We love Manna so much. The Spirit of God is all over the leaders, the annointing is strong, the call is loud, and the people are responding--- it is such a blessing to be a part of it. But I feel disillusioned as I meditate on what God is doing to us as a family… not in a bad way, but just freed from this persistent yearning to “belong,” where we didn’t really need to belong in the first place. We have made wonderful friends at Manna. Most of them, we rarely talk to or see. But we love them dearly and they are an encouragement to us often! We pray fervently for the leadership of Manna Church. We will always do so, because God is working in their lives and that’s what we want to see. But it’s as if this huge veil has lifted and we no longer feel pressured to “conform” to this image of evangelical righteousness, of perfect Christianity, of arrogance, almost, because WE know the scriptures. If our interpretations of the scriptures are SO right, then why do we mess up sometimes? Why do we still have a need for repentance? If we have ALL the answers and darkeness flees us always, why do aren’t we on a plane to Israel and why do we still fight with each other? Why do I still complain, even when I KNOW how to fix the problem? Why are we never “good enough” in the eyes of the leaders of this church to do SOMETHING even remotely more powerful for God—other than baking casseroles and hearing someone out on the phone? Oh yeah, because even if we WERE in North Korea, we’d be baking casseroles there too. We build up “ministry” because our pastors are superstars and it’s disgusting. We forget to serve our families because we are too busy serving “The Lord,” and it’s disgusting. And while Manna doesn’t encourage that, it’s a natural by-product of that kind of numbers-driven environment.

So many times over the years we have been members here I have wished that we could “disappear” or blend into the crowds. When you know the pastors and they know you, people look to you for guidance, support, etc, and you are expected to act, believe, and do things a certain way, in keeping with the “DNA” of said church. Didn’t show up to Intercessory Praise and Worship Sunday night? Uh oh. Didn’t go to the men’s breakfast? You’re slipping. That isn’t encouraged, of course, but it is present nonetheless. Nevermind that no one asked if I had childcare or if we could afford the ticket to the men’s breakfast, you know? That’s the biggest thing I missed about Catholic Church. There are no superstars there. The priest, the pastor of the parish, is usually the most humble and poor of all. You don’t get “recognition,” and you don’t get promises of great things “For God.” You get a promise of a hand to hold along the journey, a promise of community, and of encouragement. You get someone, alongside you, who also has bruised knees and who also has a broken heart. If you don’t show up to the Fish Fry, sister so- and so might show up on your doorstep with some tamales she made from scratch instead.

I said it in a thread this morning, and I’ll say it here again: The thing about Spirit, Breath, and Wind, is that it will always slip through the crack in a closed door and it will always escape from a closed box.

God is alive. He’s everywhere. We don’t need to conform to the imperfect image we are presented in the places He is talked about most. We need to conform to HIM. To live a simple, quiet life, and to work with our hands, and to love each other. Period.


This was the perfect “going out” service for us to attend. We are so thankful for our time here and we recommend Manna Church to anyone in the area because God will grow you there!