5 Reasons I Quit Writing

"Are you writing?" She said.

"No."

I was at church tonight, and someone heard I used to be a writer. Am I still writing? I haven't written in a while, and several things are to blame.

First, I wrote and wrote, but never ended up with much to speak of, and what I had, I sent all over the place. Some of it stuck, but never with any significant positive criticism. I had one story go to print, but it was voted in by my friends. Others were published electronically. My last story to be published was a fiction but they wanted it for social commentary. I said I'll take what I can get, but it seemed like God saying to me: You aren't writing, you're commenting. Which is true.

Second, there was never a feeling of belongingness (how's that for a word!) in writing as a career. No one and I mean no one in my family embraced me as a writer. Few friends cared or supported it. I was completely alone in my ambition. Is that unique? No. Most writers stand alone this way, but I've always needed some kind of support from someone to feel valid as a writer. Writing felt like I was in someone else's home, and as kind as they were, I always knew I'd have to get up and leave.

Third, writing felt like a self-absorbed sin in my life, like a waste of time. I've been writing for years and look what it's got me. Nothing.

Fourth. No discipline. I read several books (Bird by Bird, Moveable Feast) by writers on writing and they all shared one thing - discipline. They wrote four hours a day, in the morning, or they would rent a cabin and write for three months. If I did that, I'd just stare out the window at the mountains and begin an inner dialogue that would crescendo into loud cries of madness.

Fifth. I never felt like God wanted me to be a writer. I felt like it was a shameful passtime, a diversion from true ministry. People need help in this world, why are you sitting in Caribou Coffee? Besides, I could never be a Christian writer. I swear too much, and even if I didn't, Christian publishing has been hijacked by assholes who can't write an interesting story to save their lives.

Am I happy now, not writing? It's the same thing, I work, eat, sleep, work, eat and sleep, and never think about it. When something reminds me of writing, or doing anything creative, I instantly feel a burning fire in my ribs. I want to create, but there's a cage around me. Other people are in charge of all the creative stuff at church. The best I've been able to do is play guitar on the worship team. How exciting it would be to write and produce a play. How fun to start a creative blog with poetry and stories.

Did writing go out with the bathwater of my Emergent Church journey?

Possibly. It was writing got me into it. I drudged for something I could agree was both church and not church. It was a naval gazistic penury, this Emergent stuff, and hippified Christians with arbitrary soul-patches and piercings controlled it. It was church as usual, church on Sunday that is, and hippyanity the rest of the week. Many of those I encountered were always in character. It was life en voyeur, doing everything for the sake of being watched or admired for your interpretation of life. See, it can be this, too! In fact, it is this, and how dare you oppose me? Many emergents had long spiny barbs all over them to ward off all other interpretation, and especially absolutes, and specifically absolute interpretations of scripture.

They'd say, "what is church?" "What does it look like?" I would answer, "well, the Bible says..." but these questions weren't meant to be answered. They were supposed to be left as questions. "What is redemption?" "What is salvation?" "The Bible says salvation is...." Wait! You can't answer, not even from the Bible. That's presumptive. You can quote a church father, or John Piper, or you can say it's like this or that, but that becomes your interpretation. You're stuck with it. "Church is a community, where people share their belongings and serve one another." Okay. That's what it is to you, but not me.

"Can it be called church and be full of people with tattoos, soul-patches and piercings who drink beer? Can church look like the world? Can church be full of philosophers and still be church?" What if it can't? Will you leave? That's my question. Or is it important enough that you'd give up certain things? You don't have to, as we read in Romans, but what if you did? Maybe the remodeling of the church has taken a turn away from what pleases God and toward what pleases man. Did Jesus' disciples stop at a tattoo/piercing/beer/soul-patch parlor? In one passage, Jesus told a man to sell all his belongings and follow Him. He knew what was important to the man, his material belongings. Sell. Follow Me.

That was the eye of the needle verse, and I was always impressed that I had the answer to that one, so I'll share it now. It's like you're a spirit, but you've grown attached to material. As spirit, you can pass through anything, even a wall, as Jesus did. But if you grow attached to your Ferrari, it will prevent you from passing through that tiny hole. You have to strip the things off, or be willing to instantly give them up, or able to curse them, or become detached instantly, knowing what their true properties are, and that you're essentially different.

Wanna know what Church looks like?

People. Church looks like the people in it, and it will progress or not based on the people in it. One church in Richmond, VA is full of tattooed/bearded/pierced people who don't drink because drinking ruined their lives. Another church in Portland, OR is full of younger versions of the same thing but with masters degrees and they drink because they have the mettle to enjoy it and resist alcoholism. Both are church. One church in Colorado is full of wooden people and prescribed liturgy, another, in Africa, is full of dancing, tongues, prophesy, and healing. People encounter God differently, but they're still in the church.

Several things church is not, and I'll write about that later. Maybe. As I said, I've given up writing.