Hi I'm Metacrock

[Metacrock]

I am from Dallas. I'm UMC and have a Masters from Perkins school of Theoloyg, at Southern methodist University.

 

We have a lot of fundamentlism down here in Dallas and not much "progressive." It's hard to find.

[Ted Michael Morgan]

Try Baton Rouge! Nothing progressive here that I have found. This is what I sent my pastor a few minutes ago:

 

 

 

As usual on Sunday morning, I am deciding whether or not to attend services. I am not taking my anti-anxiety medication just now because of my finances. I don't know whether that increases my anxiety about deciding whether to attend. Regardless, I feel the same way most Sunday mornings, when I am fully medicated. Being out of work only slightly intensifies my frustration. About five years ago, my friends blank and blank stopped attending services after Hershey torpedoed our Sunday school class. Like me, Alan likes and respects the members of our congregation; he simply realized that he sought something else than what the congregation then offered. My problem is less severe than Alan's problem. I like much that happens in the congregation. Alan felt estranged from what happened. Put more precisely, he felt estranged because of what did not happen. I think that I grasp his feeling. I can deal with the cookie dispersion. I detest it, but I understand the aim behind it. The applause irritates me, but I could live with it. I hate the projection screen, but again I accept its presence. What frustrates me is not having anyone in the congregation with whom I share a Christian vision. All the Sunday classes reek of fundamentalism. I am fully aware that even conservative Christians are not uniformly as conservative as commentators assume. Chicago has just published a book by Fr. Greeley and Michael Hout that reveals that 22 percent of conservative Christians are, like me, pro-choice--period, while many more endorse abortion under special circumstances. I imagine that there might even be a few members of the congregation other than me who have given up on the Republican Party. But I feel out-of-place. I have not made contact with people who share my vision, except perhaps for Frank and Jane Johnson (and they are much more conservative Christians than I am). I could get behind members who liked Jim Wallis or some other fundamentalist Christians, but I am lost in the fog of what we now have. At this moment, I do not know whether I am attending or not attending. I go through this every Sunday. I have for several years. At one time, I had hope for Companions in Christ when Bill Mackie started it, but it has never recovered from the loss of his leadership. I debate taking a sabbatical from the congregation. I fear that I, like my siblings and the blanks, simply will not return. However, I feel dishonest when I do attend services.

[Ted Michael Morgan]

Try Baton Rouge! Nothing progressive here that I have found. This is what I sent my pastor a few minutes ago:

 

 

 

As usual on Sunday morning, I am deciding whether or not to attend services. I am not taking my anti-anxiety medication just now because of my finances. I don't know whether that increases my anxiety about deciding whether to attend. Regardless, I feel the same way most Sunday mornings, when I am fully medicated. Being out of work only slightly intensifies my frustration. [/color] About five years ago, my friends blank and blank stopped attending services after Hershey torpedoed our Sunday school class. Like me, Alan likes and respects the members of our congregation; he simply realized that he sought something else than what the congregation then offered. My problem is less severe than Alan's problem. I like much that happens in the congregation. Alan felt estranged from what happened. Put more precisely, he felt estranged because of what did not happen. I think that I grasp his feeling. I can deal with the cookie dispersion. I detest it, but I understand the aim behind it. The applause irritates me, but I could live with it. I hate the projection screen, but again I accept its presence. What frustrates me is not having anyone in the congregation with whom I share a Christian vision. All the Sunday classes reek of fundamentalism. I am fully aware that even conservative Christians are not uniformly as conservative as commentators assume. Chicago has just published a book by Fr. Greeley and Michael Hout that reveals that 22 percent of conservative Christians are, like me, pro-choice--period, while many more endorse abortion under special circumstances. I imagine that there might even be a few members of the congregation other than me who have given up on the Republican Party. But I feel out-of-place. I have not made contact with people who share my vision, except perhaps for Frank and Jane Johnson (and they are much more conservative Christians than I am). I could get behind members who liked Jim Wallis or some other fundamentalist Christians, but I am lost in the fog of what we now have. At this moment, I do not know whether I am attending or not attending. I go through this every Sunday. I have for several years. At one time, I had hope for Companions in Christ when Bill Mackie started it, but it has never recovered from the loss of his leadership. I debate taking a sabbatical from the congregation. I fear that I, like my siblings and the blanks, simply will not return. However, I feel dishonest when I do attend services.

 

 

 

My congregation probably passes for what is progressive in Baton Rouge. There are many good activities in the city. I simply have found it difficult to find a place where fundamentalists do not set the tone for discourse about Christian life and faith. The local Baptist book store defines the scope of education in my Disciples congregation.