I was a pastor for 10 years. Before that, I was a youth pastor. Before that, I was a church brat - a PK (preacher's kid), if you will. I've been around church culture my whole life. I was introduced to Christ by an amazing couple, Anna and Alex Santos, who really believed in training children to understand the Gospel, and they believe it enough to live by it. They didn't have any kids of their own back then, so I think they adopted the entire Sunday School class. But, I can't tell you that I remember one lesson they taught. I just remember their conviction and passion for expressing Christ. That was in the mid 80s, and I still see that desire in their hearts today.

So, I was pretty much bred in the church. In 1988, we moved to Florida where my parents met a missionary couple who was starting a church in Spring Hill. This family had a small Spanish-speaking group congregating in the fellowship hall of an Assemblies of God Church. I can still remember the South American brother who played the guitar and encouraged me to pick it up myself. I learned my first praise and worship songs there and began my ministry career at the tender age of 11.

I wasn't much of a Sunday school attendee. I liked the adult service. I loved to hear the sermons that were preached and to study them when I went home. The more I did that, the more I learned about how fallible my pastor was. I learned early on that much of the sermon was his opinion, but oddly enough people hailed it as if it were God's very words. I am the first to say, I honored and still honor his opinions, but I certainly saw something wrong with attributing those views to THE Almighty. After all, how do can you truly judge such a thing?

As I grew older in the church, a lot in me began to question the way things were. I witnessed the struggles and ridiculous nature of church "leadership". I saw my own parents abused by church members while the pastor looked the other way. I witnessed the church expand and contract over and over again, as families came, took what they could, and then stabbed their brothers in the back without a second glance. I saw leadership fight for microphones, pulpits, and titles. I saw the dirty laundry of people who were leading people, but were no further along in their spiritual lives. They just had more experience in the lingo and culture. When I look back at it, it makes me sick how shallow that was.

When I was 14 years old, I wanted desperately to share my excitement about God with my friends. But, I didn't feel like I had any that burned with passion for God like I did. So, I turned to the other church teens and asked them if they wanted to start a youth group. Four of us met at that first meeting, but I was really the only one talking. So, at age 14, I became the youth leader by default. I did that for the next 3 years, which was really tough! I had to try and keep my "testimony" with my church friends whose standards weren't any better than my friends'. I can honestly say that I succeeded and failed often, but I stayed faithful to what I had committed to, which was preached as the most important thing. I just made sure I kept my failings to myself.

By the time I graduated high school, I was convinced that something was wrong. I had spent my entire teenage life walking my dog twice a day, and using that time to speak with God and grow that relationship. My time at church felt completely different. I remember the day, in 1994, when I approached my pastor and expressed my opinions about how things needed to change. I will never forget his words:

"Jose, you need to remember that you are not the Jesus of the church or of the worship team."

That was all I needed to hear. Within a few months, I had relocated to Michigan to chase my old flame. I spent a short time working, dating, getting an apartment, opening my first checking account, and learning to give in to some of life's seductions. I attended a vibrant church in Breckenridge and got married in that church in March of 1995. During my dating period, I worked for a little over two months for Joyce Meyers, which I thought was going to show me how rewarding the ministry was. After witnessing what I saw during that time - abuse of power, rudeness, pride, prejudice, and false accusations, I voluntarily left. There was only room for one important person in that place.

As Joyce said, "The problem here is that everyone thinks they are a preacher, and the only preacher around here is me." Her husband David just nodded.

I moved back to Florida after my wedding and started life. I went back to my Spring Hill church, where I "sat" for a while. "Sitting" is church-speak for doing nothing but attending and tithing until the pastor thinks you have been humbled enough to do anything important. After a standoff with the youth pastor and his wife, Billy and Liset, over who is more "prophetic", they resigned and I became the youth pastor and only worship team musician. Life in a small church has its perks, I guess. But, I became one of the beautiful people. I worked hard, while my marriage was not exactly the healthiest. There was a lot of crazy stuff going on inside of me back then, as I wrestled with making sense of it all.

The youth group grew. My marriage got worse. My income got higher. I bought a house. I ran a side business that I had for several years. The youth group grew to 50 kids talking in tongues and prophesying, but then shrank to almost nothing. My marriage got worse. We left the church because my wife wanted to go. My parents wanted to start a church. We started it with them.

Then, life threw the ultimate curveball - my wife cheated.

She didn't just cheat - she LEFT me with my two year old son just as we were starting the church with my family. I stuck in there. I sold my house, gave up the business deal I was working on, and gave everything I owned away. I even preached a sermon that next Sunday.

That was 1998. By the year 2001, I was remarried to a wonderful lady, inherited two children, and had another one. I had worked for the Christian Network which exposed me to the world of "high class" Christianity. You've never met Jesus until you have met a Christian executive. Of course, I am being sarcastic. It was truly a ridiculous world. By the end of 2001, I had started a business and was on my way to everything that comes with being a startup.

The Church continued to grow. We tried hard to provide all we could. We fed the homeless, distributed groceries, ministered to children in the projects, and just about everything you would think a church should do. It was excited to feel like we were making a difference. The church grew, and even had as much as 150 members at its peak. My dedicated was there, but I could not help but continue to feel all the conflicts I felt as a child. Discussing it with my associates (my parents) only resulted in heated arguments.

But, my parents wanted to do church as usual. Over time, it eroded each one of us until there was nothing left. By 2006, my mother had left the ministry and her marriage, my father was struggling to rebuild his life, and I was left in the same place - wondering why we had wasted so much time on people that were nowhere to be found, and ignored our own lives in pursuit of a supposed "calling."

Don't get me wrong - I love people. I worry about people. I want to support people. I try to "pastor" people around me that are doing wrong. But, I have learned that you cannot do what the Holy Spirit alone can do. People aren't inspired by being told about a race - they want to see you running it yourself, and winning.

Today, I see brothers and sisters in the faith all struggling to hang on to what they have and what they've been promised. I see agendas and schemes to "advance the kingdom". I see big money spent on buildings and special interests while those in the church stay lacking the basic essentials of life. Not food - but FREEDOM. They are trapped in this box called "church", but Jesus died to open the doors of that cell. All we have created is an artificial prison for our souls. As long as we play the game, we feel good for the rest of the day. But, nothing is any different than the day before. We fight gays, but say nothing about racism and real social issues because it is easier to stand for dogma than principle. We are cowards who stand behind an institution that is only held together with exaggerations, twisted theology, and little bit of spit.

This is where I reenter. But, I'm not a drone anymore. I don't look for ways to justify what has gone wrong. I don't look for individuals to blame. I don't look for heros to admire. I reenter the story as a person freed from the slavery that Jesus liberated us from - the slavery of religion, routine, and abuse. These days, I have come to realize that my calling is an "invitation", not a mandate. My entire life is one big invitation to dance with God. I've sensed it my whole life, but I was so distracted with popular Christian singularity that I missed the real plot to the story. I am not called to BE anything. I am called to DO everything. I am not called to ATTEND anywhere, but to ASSOCIATE with someone. I am not called to DECLARE anything, but to TRUST in a living God who doesn't care about my seminary grades or how many people I got to pray the "sinner's prayer".

I am INVITED to a wedding feast at the end of days. And, my only goal is to get there with as many friends and family as possible. After everything I have been through in my short life, I have learned that no sermon I preach can ever replace someone discovering this for themselves. For this reason, I am an ex-pastor. I believe that it is all up to you to learn and discover the things I have studied all my life and would have spoon fed you only to have you forget it by tomorrow morning after critiquing it with your friends. I believe that you will never learn anything unless you find it yourself. I believe that everything I have to say to you can be said here with more impact than a 45-minute sermon. I believe that you have a story to live and nothing I do or say can convince you to live it. You have to hunger, thirst, and yearn for Him, the ultimate Purpose and the Author of your story.

It's His heart you have to be after, not mine. I'm busy chasing after Him, and there just isn't any time to waste on playing church. Run with me, or stay behind. It's your choice.