A Crisis of Praxis

I need to start this post by stating that I am a believer in Jesus. I think the Apostles Creed provides an accurate summary of the major, non-negotiable tenets of the faith. I think “Unity in essentials, Liberty in non-essentials, Charity in all things” provides a great framework for how believers should interact with each other.

 

I also need to say that I’m fed up, and I’m having what I think I can call a “crisis of praxis.”

I need to be clear and further state that I’m talking about myself. I may identify areas that I see as issues in society and the church-at-large, but largely what I’m frustrated with is how out-of-sync my theology has become with my praxis. In other words, how what I think about Christianity has become out-of-sync with how I actually live.

I theologically understand the incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus. But these days, it’s as if those things have no direct, tangible, daily effect on my life.

I’m not talking about legalism or rule-following. I’m not talking about a pastor exhorting a particular action as the “application” of a passage in a sermon.

The way I was taught and the way I continue to think about praxis is that it is the logical outflow of the faith we have in Jesus. There should be a result of that faith that is natural, visible, and un-forced. And it should be distinguishing.

But I just don’t see it. I don’t see evidence of theology and belief practiced in my own life or in large as a result of the presence of the church, be it local or global.

The past six or seven years have worn me down. I have had (rightly, I’d argue) pretty much my sole focus on my little family of 5 and the insane challenges (no, really) that our life situation has brought us.

And I don’t have anything left. As the vulgar yet popular saying goes, “I’ve got zero f*cks left to give.” In this world where my immediate life situation demands and takes pretty much everything, what happens outside of my life situation sucks my hope away.

I’m grieved by my own action and inaction, but too weary and spent to do anything about it. How should I respond to that homeless woman who, in the summer and fall, essentially lives outside of the office where I work? Smiling and nodding isn’t the right way, but it’s about all I have bandwidth for apart from a muttered prayer as I enter the office each day.

How is it that I can sit through sermons at my church, basically numb to what is being said? This isn’t the pastor’s fault — he’s a good friend of mine, and he won’t be surprised that I’m writing this. But when the thing I look most forward to at church is that I can sit for an hour and zone out and not be interrupted by kids or crisis, how can that be right? This seems like an issue. And, honestly — I really don’t care, and I really don’t want to change it.

And when I look at the wider scope of things, I see the big-C “Church” (well, the protestant flavor) happily wielding power as a political pawn through self-proclaimed church “leaders” who, to me anyway, seem literally hell-bent on pursuing power at the cost of everything. Like Esau, they’ve swapped it all for a bowl of pork-and-beans, and they don’t even know it — or they do know it and they don’t care.

Does this not drive anyone else to despair?

When I look at our elected leaders, I see politicians who in their words acknowledge the King of Kings, but lack in their basic understanding of the Bible and their perverse application of it in their pontificating on the floor of the House of Representatives and the Senate, in their blathering during hearings, and during their interviews while appealing to their base saying whatever they can to retain power. It is sick. It drives me to despair.

I’m not expecting parity between what one thinks to be true and how one’s actions portay that truth. Lord knows that’s impossible. But the disconnect on all levels between what is testified to as true and what actions betray to be true has caused me to experience more dissonance than I’d previously thought possible.

It has worn me down.

And I haven’t even got to the issues of white privilege and patriarchy that dominate both church and society at all levels — local, national, and global — yet seem so insurmountable. I am grieved by these too, and yet I have no energy for a response. All I can muster is, unfortunately, apathy.

Talk about “white privilege,” I’m a living, breathing example.

And that’s the crisis, at least to me. My theology says my faith should provoke more than intellectual assent. But my praxis betrays this. When I look to the local church for help, I sense desire to do something, to be sure, but not a lot of ability or knowledge on how to do anything apart from the same church programs that have always been done. (I don’t know either; this isn’t a criticism, it is a statement of what I see happening.) And when I look to the church at large for help, the only thing I see is self-proclaimed “leaders” using platforms as personal power plays.

And all I can muster is apathy and preservation of my Sunday hour of uninterruption.

This is why I frame this as a “crisis of praxis.” I see the issues and they weigh upon me, but I’m spent.

I have zero f*cks left to give.

One thought on “A Crisis of Praxis

  1. Praying for you right now, Rick. This sounds a bit like the first part of Psalm 73. Maybe the second part will help? The gates of the hell toward which some church leaders are bent will not prevail.

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