I faced some of my demons this Sunday. Now before you break out your tambourine, let me explain. As mentioned in my last entry I am still working through issues created by my termination 7 months ago. To be honest, these issues go farther back than the incident, but were brought to surface when it all hit the fan. Some of the demons mentioned were anger, resentment, bitterness, etc., but what I didn’t mention was my fear and insecurity. At a risk of sounding like a charismaniac, I admit that a great insecurity has created a stronghold on my life… the insecurity of fundamentalism. Recently I had a dream about me having a violent confrontation with an individual who was not at the center of my termination, but certainly fanned the flame of legalism that ultimately consumed the church’s leadership. He tried to physically harm me, and when I attempted to flee I couldn’t because he was standing on my feet. I was able to avoid a fistfight (this guy is big and scary), but I spent the rest of the dream trying to convince him that he was wrong and that he was causing all sorts of pain and trouble for my family and for other families in the church. The dream ended with him seeming to listen but ultimately not wavering from his stance. My dream-whispering wife told me that the dream represented my fear and insecurity concerning the situation and my ongoing personal battle with fundamentalism. She’s sharp… one of the many reasons I love her. She said that I feel paralyzed by what happened and that no matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to break away from it or reason with it.
I took what she said and pondered it for a while. She was right. I can go toe-to-toe with atheists, agnostics, naturalists, and liberals without even breaking a sweat (not that I’m one of those militant, in-your-face, let’s fight types), but the mere thought of confrontation with fundamentalists makes me sick to my stomach. I guess I have lived under the oppression of hyper-morality and legalistic spiritualism that I am like an adult victim of child abuse. I have spiritual post-traumatic stress disorder (SPTSD?). Guilt has been such an aspect of my spiritual journey that it is hard to shake. Now, I’m not saying that we should not feel a sense of guilt over our sin. That is natural and necessary for conviction and repentance. What I am talking about is this sense of shame that embodies much of fundamental thought due to the bad theology of “morality equals redemption.”
Ok, well I’m sure you may be wondering how I faced my demons. I was asked to lead worship this past Sunday at a church in Sebring, FL. Sebring is literally in the middle of nowhere. Draw a line down the middle of the Florida peninsula and in that blank spot just above Lake Okeechobee you will find a small dot called Sebring. It is industrial, and there is plenty of stuff there like a mall, restaurants and even Starbucks, but it just sort of rises up out of the land and then disappears just as quickly. The church was a plant started by a great guy named Bruce and it was in it’s own building which it apparently shared with a Hispanic church. The week I was to be there was one of their Café Highlands weeks. This was a time when a guest came in and shared a testimony or special in music, or whatever. Since I could do both, it was going to be the Kevin Hendrix hour with me doing songs and weaving the story of my journey through the mix. Great idea. Just my type of thing. When we arrived in town Saturday, I told BJ that I had a feeling that we were going to be the oddballs the next morning… just a hunch. Well, I was right. Apparently the majority of the congregation was out of town, and of those that were left, 90% carried an AARP card. Please don’t think I have anything against older generations… I don’t. I am just realistic about my glaring differences with older generations when it comes to doctrine, theology, church polity, and levels of appropriateness. This isn’t a wholesale difference, but I was raised in the south and anytime I see a church populated with mostly people who are 50+ I automatically assume they have strong fundamental roots (which typically means they also have the baggage that comes with it). Well, my palms started sweating and my gut started churning and I got gas. I always get gas when I am nervous, which makes me even more nervous about being up in front of people. Without going into details, I was able to make it through the “service” and things went really well. I felt I related very well to the audience and they seemed to not only enjoy what I sang and said, but many were moved to walk up to BJ and I and slip us some money. What a relief! One, it was over; Two, they actually liked and accepted me.
So I faced my demons, and even though they were winning at the start, Christ’s Spirit within me took over and beat away the fear and doubt. “For [we] did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but [we] have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” (Romans 8:15, plurality mine). Lord please help me to defeat this sinful fear and prejudice that I hold. Father Your truth alone is sufficient for the correction of false thinking. Help me to see my fundamental brothers and sisters as family, even if they remove themselves from me and the world. You alone are my source of hope and righteousness. You keep me, and mold me into the man I am. Help me to not be bitter, vengeful, or unaccommodating. Develop a sense of compassion for my legalistic brothers and sisters. I want to minister to them, not be repugnant to them. As we continue this journey in church planting, Lord help BJ and I partner with all ages and all people who call you “Father” and not just the ones that make us comfortable. We are your servants, not our own. Thank you so much for showing me this and growing me a little more each day.
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