alexis in the city

Overcoming the Summer of my Discontent

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York;
And all the clouds that low’r'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

Somewhere between not knowing where I’m going to live in a couple months, and losing my job, it hit me: I’m not freaking out. This is incredibly, fundamentally, anti-Alexis. Which can only mean that somehow in the past year or two since my last existential crisis I’ve hit some stride of contentedness. I’m sure it’s a combination of a lot of things: a deepened spirituality, a supportive community, increased financial stability, and probably a dose of good ol’ fashioned maturity. The Alexis of five or even three years ago would be in meltdown mode by now - so of course I’m bracing for that and worried it’ll happen down the road. But considering the massive amount of upheaval in my life right now I am somehow managing to not be curled up in the middle of the floor, sucking my thumb.

So back to the upheaval. Ryan and I started talking a few months ago about moving sometime this year. The exact where, when, how - and every other necessary detail - are still a question mark for a number of reasons due to other things we’re dealing with. That uncertainty alone would typically have been enough to send me into a hissy fit. Combine that with the need to cover other bases in case we do pull up our San Francisco stakes - like applying for schools - and the necessity of not losing sight of my commitments here, and you’ve got the perfect storm for a change-loving, uncertainty-hating gal like me.

Then last week I lost my job. Kind of out of the blue. Fortunately, I’d maintained my client relationships while working for Signpost so I had a safety net but nevertheless, I’d assumed that if I ever did lose my job I’d be reduced to the thumb-sucking, fetal ball of hot mess mentioned above. I’m not at all ruling out that this could still happen. But so far I’ve enjoyed re-discovering the flexibility of being completely autonomous. I think I’m going to go back to only working Monday-Thursday!

Three day weekends aside, I didn’t join Signpost for the great pay and shortened work weeks (c’m on, it’s a startup). I joined it because even though I could make more money and work less while working for myself, I wanted to be a part of a team again. I wanted to collaborate and have inside jokes with my coworkers and help determine the direction of a company. I still might want that, but I’m not worried about finding another job. I’m not even worried that I can’t really start looking until we figure out what’s going on in other areas of our life.

I’ve thought about just going to seminary full-time and pursuing a hospital chaplaincy internship like I was going to before I accepted the Signpost job. But I’m not worried that I don’t know what school I’d attend or that last year I turned down the internship program into which I was accepted.

And all of this not-worrying has me worried. It’s so unlike me. While I suspect that that thumbsucking girl in the fetal position is still inside me, I hope my new-found contentedness in the midst of chaos will continue to drown her out. I don’t have time for her anyway; I’m too busy being not-worried.

My problem with the synoptic problem

When I found out about the synoptic problem in reading for my New Testament class, I was pissed. How could I have spent my entire life not just “raised in the church” but so entirely submerged in it and never have heard of it, not even in Christian college??!

The following is a discussion question for class in which I explore the dumbing down of mainstream faith and the desperate need to raise the intellectual bar and encourage even self-proclaimed “average” church members to rise to the occasion. I know I am not alone in my story and experience nor am I the only person whose life-long commitment to organized religion is hanging by a thin, tenuous thread because of the way this institution has traditionally handled issues of faith and intellectualism.

Discussion Question: How well acquainted are people in your congregation with the “Synoptic Problem”? If ‘well’, how does it affect their view of Scripture? If ‘not well’, do you believe it is important to acquaint them with it (and in what context)?

To my knowledge the people in my faith community aren’t acquainted with the synoptic problem at all. I was raised in a Christian home, went to Christian school my entire life including college, and this was completely new information to me. I can only assume that this must be something that’s not taught as part of basic – or even semi-advanced – Biblical instruction.

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My journey to seminary or why I waited seven years to go to grad school

Seven years ago when I was getting ready to graduate from undergrad, I would’ve sworn up and down that I would never go back to school (and in fact did on many occasions). I’d loved college but as with many things in my life before I was older and wiser, saw it as a means to an end; something to be gotten through - and enjoyed as much as possible - but finished quickly so I could move on to the next. I went through a full Bachelor’s degree in 2.5 years and eagerly moved on to my career. (It’s a little more complicated than that, but you can peruse other posts to get the full story :-) .

It didn’t take me long to realize that I’d never committed to anything for longer than 2.5 years, and my career would hardly be an exception. I spent about three years as a live TV news producer and have spent about three years running my own business as a social strategy consultant. And throughout nearly all of these years - with the exception, perhaps, of my early years in the news biz - I’ve been seeking what I want to be when I grown up.

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Quitting (un)Christianity

“Young ‘outsiders’ and Christians alike do not want a cheap, ordinary or insignificant life but their vision of present-day Christianity is just that - superficial, antagonistic, depressing. … [They] deserve better than the unChristian faith and won’t put up with anything less. And, unlike any previous generation, they will not give us time to get our act together. If we do not deal with unChristian faith, we will have missed our chance to bring spiritual awakening to a new generation.”

~Dave Kinnaman, President of Barna Institute and author of unChristian

unChristian (whose author, Dave Kinnaman, is an alum of my alma mater, Biola University) focuses primarily on the perceptions of “Christianity” from those outside the faith but also spends a fair amount of time in the first couple chapters discussing reactions from young people within The Church as well. The bottom line? These perceptions and reactions are pretty similar. Whether from inside or outside, it’s clear The Church is failing miserably in being relevant to the “conversation generation.”

This is no surprise. But what makes this book and its conclusions so powerful is that they’re based on three years of extensive study conducted by one of the most prestigious and respected research institutions. Based on these years of study, Kinnaman points to six major skepticisms and objections to Christianity in America in the 21st century that come from young people both within and outside of the church:

1. Hypocritical

2. Too focused on getting converts

3. Anti-homosexual

4. Sheltered

5. Too political

6. Judgmental

I could’ve written this list myself (and have, in many more words, over the course of my blogging career). If I - as a member of The Church (for better or worse) - have experienced pain and frustration from these above objections, how much more so would it affect someone outside of this religion? A lot of people, churches and faith communities are starting to understand what a big deal this is - but a lot aren’t, thinking that the answer to the preferences of Gen X / Gen Y / The Millenials et al is to buckle down, yell louder and point the finger harder.

While much of this blog is about my struggle with the Christianity of modern America, and while this book is written with data I could’ve given myself, I am by no means exempt from the issues. I think those who yell louder and point fingers in an effort to build a dam around the necessary evolution of faith are wrong. But I know I don’t always handle my opinions in the best way possible, often focusing on division and anger rather than unification and love.

There is, perhaps, nothing I want more than to be part of a faith that’s relevant and active in my community on a fundamental, actionable, day-to-day level. I hope the people within my religion who disagree with my implementation can at least see my motives. And I hope the people outside my religion can see beyond the unChristianity that often surrounds it.

(As for the book, HIGHLY recommended, especially if you’d like to crawl inside the head of someone who struggles with The Church.)

Losing my religion

What’s gotten me into trouble though is my suspicion that a person can be a follower of the way of Jesus without affiliating with the Christian religion, and my simultaneous lament that a person can be accepted and even celebrated as a card-carrying member of the Christian club but not actually be a follower of the way of Jesus. And even worse, I’ve proposed that I would rather be a follower of the way of Jesus and not be affiliated with the Christian religion than the reverse.

-Brian McLaren

Finding our Way Again