You might have clued into it at some point along the way, but I’ve just returned from a 2-week adventure in Greece and Italy, following largely in the footsteps of Paul with a few sides trips to cool places like Ostia and Pompeii. Okay, Pompeii was not just cool…it was dang cool. The most common question I get is “what was your favorite day?” or “what was your favorite part?” or something along those lines. My response so far has been: “that’s an unfair question.” Party because I do, indeed, consider it unfair given the ridiculous amount of stuff we did. How do you make a value judgment between circling the Colosseum, standing before the bema in Corinth, climbing Mars Hill, exploring the excavations underneath St. Peter’s Basilica, and watching a Mardi Gras parade in Preveza? Okay, maybe one of those didn’t quite rank as high as the others.  And the other reason I answer that it’s unfair is just because it’s a cop-out answer. It takes time to process this stuff; and sometimes it takes distance.

I’m going to start a series of blog posts to talk about what I’ve begun to process. It will include such philosophical and theological richness like “God Loves Idiots,” “The Bible is Legit,” and “I Told St. Peter ‘Thanks.’”.

So here we go: What I learned on my trip to Greece and Italy, Part 1: Church is Messy.

Our history as the people of God is riddled with inconsistencies, heresies, hypocrisies, and general stupidity.  We’ve had inquisitions, crusades, and systematic killings in the name of Christ. Peter and Paul, who lectured those who were healed under their ministry to worship Jesus alone, are now venerated by some to the point that they may once again be confused for deity.

The more I learn about the Greek Orthodox Church, the more I appreciate the way they revel in the beauty of the Creator and his creation. But then there are also things I don’t get. For example, the altar of sacrament, or “holy of holies” is off limits to congregation; only the priest can go there. While I can respect the idea behind that and the reverence for the eucharist that is so often lacking in my Protestant experience, what the heck was the meaning behind the torn veil in the Temple?

Facing the iconostasis at the Church of St. Demetrius in Thessaloniki, Greece.

Standing in St. Peter’s Basilica was a holy moment. Everything about the architecture and the art pointed me to Christ and gave me a window into the awe and wonder and majesty of God Almighty. It made me appreciate my connection to the thousands and thousands who have come before me. The saints and martyrs to whom I was connected in the family of God. The more I study church history, the more I want to be Catholic. My stomach was in my throat. Then I remembered that the construction of this magnificent basilica was facilitated in part by the sale of indulgences.  My stomach turned. Tension. Conflict. Was this a moment when I was supposed to be enraptured by the glory of God? Or disgusted by the perversion of his Gospel?

St. Peter's Basilica

Light invades St. Peter's Basilica

While standing in cathedrals in conflict, I settled somewhere in the uncomfortable but inevitable land of the in-between. And thanked God for his grace and sovereignty. I think that’s what it boils down to. God is full of grace. And God is sovereign. So even though we have been stupid along the way, his story moves forward. He continues to build his church through the mess.

The reality is, we are still constructing cultural hurdles to hold people at a distance. We still throw up hurdles to make it hard for people to come into the presence of Christ. We still sell salvation– we just call them by a different name– like prayer cloths– instead of indulgences. Sure, future generations will look quizzically at our ecclesiology and wonder how the truth was ever able to prevail underneath the layers of our bizarre faith practices.

But that’s the beauty of our faith. It isn’t up to us. It’s all about God, his grace, and his sovereignty.