The Wellsprings

I haven’t regularly attended church in eleven years, mainly to avoid being fussed at by dogmatists.  So all I could think of last night, as I was being chided up one side and down the other, was the irony of my situation.

An antique-European Christian who doesn’t attend church is in one of those “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” predicaments.  The only way out is a path between the Charybdis of church discipline or, as in my case particularly, Scylla (who claims access to esoteric knowledge and takes every opportunity to enlighten poor souls trapped in the prison built by Calvin, Wesley, the Pope and every other demon in Hell — but Calvin especially)!  This Scylla can breathe fire from all heads at once — six-barrels of damnation for Shotgun because of bad church attendance!

We fear the Charybdis of church discipline because no church today is really a Christian church — even if we grudgingly admit a few Christians (white-grazers) frequent the establishments.  They go in ignorance, not realizing they’re attending an institution that long ago pledged fealty to Satan.   We antique-Europeans don’t have the option of remaining silent in face of devil-worship.

It might take months, but eventually there will be blood and the antique-European will get dismissed from fellowship faster than old-hymns from a contemporary song-book.  Best to avoid all that.

There’s the choice of not attending, but then we face Scylla, who, being zealously enraged, pulls out her Bible and smacks us repeatedly (leather bound King James’ are soft on impact, but if evenly applied, ensure one gets the  joy, joy, joy, down in the hind-parts.)

Ms. Scylla, who assured me that she was well-versed in contemporary theological debate, lectured me on the state of Christendom.

“There are far more than just Roman Catholics and Calvinists” she said.  “There are many shades and positions in between!  Take me, for example.  I’m not a Calvinist, nor am I a Catholic.  I’m simply a Christian and I stand on the Bible alone!”

She repeated that last point to exhaustion.  She (and only she, apparently) stood on the Bible.  The real meaning of it all was pretty simple, says Scylla, so why I couldn’t understand was beyond her.

I avoid Charybdis because I don’t want to be fussed at.  But I get fussed at by Scylla anyway!

Good grief!

I wanted to tell Ms. Scylla that there really aren’t different denominations of Christianity.

In the modern age, churches wouldn’t dream of segregating themselves based on something as trivial as race or skin color.  Heavens no!  But they will segregate (and segregate in a heartbeat) over differences of opinion about this or that rational minutiae.  Should infants be included in the covenant with Christ, or should they not?  Answer:  none is ever conclusively offered.  Instead, the factions divide into separate congregations.

Rationalists discriminate among themselves based on allegiance to this or that rational-scheme.  And once they’ve chosen a rational-scheme, they hold to it dogmatically (and God help you if you hold to a different one).  Drive down any road in America and you’ll see this clearly.  There’s a church on every corner and sometimes, two per-corner, all divided up by conceptual-scheme.

Ms. Scylla believes herself free from conceptual schemes;  she arbitrarily dismisses the more thorough ones (with respectable pedigrees) and makes up her own, based on naive and uneducated exegesis.  She’ll hold to her conceptual-scheme with the same dogmatic fervor as any Calvinist.

There is a real distinction though, and it’s not one between differing shades of rationality.

It’s the distinction between those antique-Europeans who believed in the Christ-myth fairy-tale (as Lewis and Tolkien understood myth and fairy-tale) so thoroughly that they mixed their blood with His blood and those who have succumbed to Satan’s game of rationalistic magic-words so thoroughly, they forgot about holy passion for anything other than conceptual-schemes.

These are the two factions at war within Christendom.

I admit that not having fellowship of like-minded Christian folk is pretty demoralizing.

Call me naive, but Christ ordered His followers to partake of holy-communion and I’ve always feared missing it, as if there’s some sort of magic inherent in the sacrament.  I’ve missed it now for eleven years and my fears have yet to go numb on this score.

I need communion with Him and with other saints.

So what do I do?

I dip in the wellsprings of old-Europe.

On Sundays, I sit quietly on the front-porch (weather permitting) or in my library, reading an old novel.  I’m reading “Quentin Durward” by Sir. Walter Scott at the moment, but there are hundreds available.   I walk through old Europe and live with the farmers, learn chivalry from the knights and learn heroics from white soldiers.

Of course, I pray and read Scripture as well, but without seeing prayer and Scripture through the eyes of my ancestors, they’re meaningless.

How does one “love thy neighbor” if not by following the knightly zeal of Reepicheep?  What is long-suffering if it’s not the patience of the Surgeon’s Daughter?  What is loyalty if it’s not the friendly-machinations of Don Pedro?  And what is martyrdom if it’s not the actions of Hamlet?

I wouldn’t know.

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14 Responses to The Wellsprings

  1. A fine essay, sir. And one that will have some readers’ hearts vibrating in sympathy. Many of us are exiles, and it is difficult to soldier on alone, especially when every good-intentioned Scylla (or neighbor, or co-worker, etc.) would love to show us the error of our ways and jis’ jine up.

  2. Shotgun says:

    I don’t know if I’m more excited that you posted here, or that you’re blogging again — either way, thank you, sir!

    How do you deal with all this?

  3. ~MaryBeth~ says:

    Oh, I could go on and on with this, but I will leave it alone for a while so other people have a chance to comment. :) I’ll be waiting!!

  4. Shotgun says:

    Thought about this issue a lot, have you?

    I doubt many more will comment, so please feel free to unleash on me.

  5. Shotgun, you’re very kind.

    To answer your question, I’m not really sure I deal with this situation with any particular force or acumen. My family and I still attend a very small rural Reformed church. We do so because we genuinely love the clean, honest country folk there. But even as I type these words, my relationship with those folk may be changing. I have, over the years, managed to insert subtle racial statements and arguments into conversations, Bible study classes, and correspondence. But recently, a person – not in the congregation – who knows of my healthy racial beliefs has lobbed a warning shot at me, something to the effect of “What would the pastor and the people think if they knew you were a naziwhowantstokillsixmillionjewsandmakeallniggersdrinkfromseparatefountains?” So the times, they are a-changin’, and I can see a point coming when my family and I will be asked to leave. Presumably to make room for some new nonWhite babies that someone in the congregation wants to adopt.

    It makes me very sad. When I’m among these people, I’m very happy. They’re MY PEOPLE. But oh, they’re so brainwashed, so indoctrinated. That’s why I stay. I try to plant little seeds, build little brushfires, ask subversive little questions. But I also visit the sick and pray with the elderly and help tend to the business of the congregation.

    But the overall excellent preaching is beginning to show cracks. Just this month, the pastor said to a smiling, nodding congregation, “Your relationship with each other as believers ought to be more important to you than any blood ties or familial relationship!” (Quite ignoring the fact that one may PROFESS to be a Christian while remaining completely reprobate, while one can KNOW if one is a member of one’s own family/nation/race, etc. – Incidentally, the man who is likely going to “out” me still stings from the time I dressed him down for saying that he was in reality closer to a professing Christian nigger in Africa than to his own flesh-and-blood brother.)

    But on some Sundays, we just can’t gin up the enthusiasm to go and sit and be part of the passive production. On those days, we both read deeply and talk quietly and walk in our woods or sit outside or snuggle by the woodstove, and we dream of the new heavens and the new earth.

    We are called to suffer, to die to self, to take up our cross daily and follow Him. As ecclesiastical expats, I think that’s going to be, more and more, the lot of all of us who see the truth.

  6. Shotgun says:

    You know, reading your comment made me think of something.

    I was daydreaming about the odds of stumbling into your church one morning, quite by accident, without either of us knowing the other.

    How would you know that I wasn’t a presumptuous kid, bent on ringing in an egalitarian utopia? How would I know that you’re not a brainwashed devotee of the sick, syncrestist civic-nationalism?

    I’ve heard a myth about Christians in the early days. I don’t know how true it is, but supposedly at a meeting of strangers, one Christian would draw an arc. If the other was also a Christian, he would complete it, making a fish.

    I say — we draw a rectangle. If the other is a true Christian, he’ll fill it out with an X, making a small Confederate flag.

  7. ~MaryBeth~ says:

    ROFL!! Shotgun, that’s hilarious about the triangle and X!! :) I think I’ll use that sometime.

    Okay, first off I will start with saying that I have been going to church for all of my 19 years. 18 of which have been spent in the church I am attending now. In that time we have not once told a family or person to leave the congregation. Nor do I believe that it is up to anyone to tell someone to leave. God is the only one who can do that. I have visited 20-30 different churches in the past few years and I can honestly say that I have seen 1 other church that is similar to ours. Not the same, mind you but similar.
    We believe in the Trinity, that Christ actually died (and wasn’t just in a coma) on the cross and rose again for our sins, Salvation is a gift and we need only to repent and accept it, that baptism is a picture (not required) of Christ’s death-burial-resurrection and that true baptism is emerson in water, we’re KJV only, and if your beliefs differ from that we don’t judge you for it. I have several friends who’s beliefs come from the Amish and Mennonite, and then some of my other friends come from Catholic backgrounds and beliefs.
    Our church has church discipline and has had to use it a few times, but we don’t use it for every little thing. The parents are responsible for their children, and the children are 90% of the time well behaved. We have a orchestra (no rock band), and we sing and play out of the hymnals. There are times when some of us will get up and sing or play a song from a southern gospel group or something of the kind.

    There is no hiding the fact that I love my church people, nor will I try to. I know we are not perfect, and I also know we never will be. I just know its where I would rather be than out shopping, or even sleeping (and I love my sleep). Iron sharpeneth Iron. No, we all don’t get along all perfect like. There are times when I can get quite upset at someone in my church family!! But I still love them.
    Matt 25:31 “I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”

  8. Shotgun says:

    You’ve never had someone like me come to visit. ;)

    If you ever do, you’ll see how quickly the boot of “church-discipline” kicks his rump out the door.

    There are boundaries that our Satanic society has ingrained in the minds, even of fundamentalist Baptists like yourself (who are Baptists even if they don’t admit to it.)

    Cross those boundaries and religious sensibilities are replaced with a zeal for maintaining the Satanic world-order.

    But, for the few Christian knights left in the world — we’re called to cross those very boundaries.

    From the other side of them, they don’t look like boundaries at all. They look like shackles.

    Does my imagery confuse you?

    Try suggesting that there is no mention of “democracy” in the Bible. Claim that God’s law is superior to any law man can make. Put forth the idea that we should honor our families over and above the state, even if that means breaking pagan laws. Suggest that “nations” should be composed of family-groups instead of ideologues.

    Try it, and you’ll find out that your church is devoted to the new civic-religion of America — just like all the others.

  9. ~MaryBeth~ says:

    Haha!! Shotgun, would you be shocked to believe that my church is not incorporated?? And that my Pastor and all of the congregation believes in the separation of church and state?? He has put out several books (that I believe you would love to read) that say why the church should be under God’s authority and not in the least bit under the government. And then he just wrote the book with the title; “In Defense Of One Pastor” and then explains why there should not be a group of elders in the church who decides what the Pastor preaches, and that the Pastor is the servant of the church- not the leader. God is the only one who could ever be the leader of the church. We do not vote in our church, we allow God to put things the way He wants them to be.
    But I can honestly tell you that you have never found another church like ours because there are very few with these beliefs.

    And we have had quite a few people like you come to visit, actually.
    Also, we don’t use church discipline like a spanking. That’s not how the bible says to use it. It says if *you* have a issue between you and another brother in Christ, you go to them alone and talk to them and try to get them to see your way. Then if they don’t listen, come before them with 2 or 3 witnesses. And only after all of that do you take if before the church.
    If you ever visit our church, I GUARANTEE you that you will think of churches a little differently.

    I am an Historic Baptist. I am not a Reformed Baptist, Modern Baptist, or even a Southern Baptist. Yes, there are differences. And I’ll even admit to it.

    • Faust says:

      Good for you all on not being incorporated, I did read some of the articles he posted. Sadly it seems most church fail to support any kind of moral standards in this days and age. and I hate nasty music and other weirdness that invaded all too many churches in this days.

  10. Shotgun says:

    I hope, for all our sakes, that there is a good church left in the world.

  11. Jim says:

    I just discovered your blog, and am gaining much insight. Thank you.

    I too have not attended church in some time. I have a name for those in the pews today. I call them Christian Marxists. The Marxism is their true theology, the Christian part is merely a fig-leaf. God as a sugar-daddy.

  12. Shotgun says:

    You know, I’ve tried. I’ve searched for good churches and I’ve made up my mind that, for the sake of any future children I might have, I’ll hold my peace and attend somewhere so they can grow up in something like a Christian environment.

    But on the other hand, I’d be frightened about what they’re hearing in Sunday School. Lessons on equality and tolerance, perhaps? Will there be an American flag on the stage behind the preacher?

    My best bet, I think, is to find a church like the one Mr. MacPherson described. A small, rural congregation of whites.

    Thanks for the kind words Jim. If you have a blog, I’d be happy to return the favor.


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