I live in the South, and I was raised in a Bible-beating, I mean Bible-believing church.  What I see and hear from the average “conservative” church these days disturbs me deeply.  My dear hubby turned on the television the other morning and found a local preacher broadcasting his church’s sermon.  I knew I wouldn’t like it, but  I listened along.  Here is what I heard in a nutshell:  1. Look at all the people “out there” who are hurting the cause of Christ.  (At this point he told stories including the governor of South Carolina and other anonymous “big sinner Christians.”)  2. People are watching you, so you better be good.  If not, you’ll hurt the cause of Christ too.  3.  Stop pretending you are good to everyone at church.  Let’s be real with each other.

Okay, I know that may be an unfair summary, but it is pretty close.  Anyone ever heard a sermon (or a thousand sermons) on a similar theme?  Each sentence is laden with guilt and brimming over with “try harder.”  At the same time, there is a sprinkle of “but let’s be real, we aren’t perfect” thrown in.  Anyone besides me see the inconsistency here?

Let me put this bluntly and simply.  This is NOT the gospel.  And those of us who are still listening to sermons like the above weekly or those of us who still have those “tapes” ingrained in our minds from growin up on them, well, we need to stop and rewind and record over.  Listening to this false gospel week after week or day after day is like a steady diet of fast food and junk.  It is the church’s equivalent to Fast Food Nation, and it is just as unhealthy and detrimental spiritually.  It has lulled the American church fast asleep in its fat, happy self.

Romans 1:16 says, “I am not ashamed of the gospel , because it is the power of God for the salvation of everyon who believes. . .”  Gospel is a greek word that means good news.  The true gospel of Jesus liberates and it is powerful and it changes lives and it is good news.  The problem is that the “evangelical” church in America is often not proclaiming this gospel at all.  Depending on the denomination, the “gospel” has a twist and a slant, but it is often a far cry from the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Let me illustrate.  I’ll start with some of the problems with the above-mentioned, typical sermon.  First of all, how can we expect our church members to “be honest and real with each other” when we are not doing the same?  When we talk about “those awful sinners out there”, we give everyone the idea that the church is not for sinners, not big ones anyway.  Oh, we can talk about some things we used to struggle with “back in college” or in our before-Christ days.  We can even talk about acceptable sins such as yelling at our kids or working too much.  These “sins” can be overlooked.    This dear preacher I was listening to was doing exactly what he was telling his congregation NOT to do.  He was pretending to be better than he is.  This is my deepest struggle as well.  We all want to be better than we are.  We all want a formula to guarantee life will work for us, that our marriage will stay together, that our kids will turn out okay, and that we will do enough to be  pleasing to God or at least feel pretty good about ourselves.  Again, I say to myself and to you:  this is NOT the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.  It is not good news at all.

The gospel always has to start with “me.”  Jesus said in Matthew 9:12-13, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.  But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’  For I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.”  The gospel starts with this:  I am a big sinner.  Me.  I am.  Not those people out there.  That only serves to make me feel better about myself.  That only gives me a false sense of self-righteousness, and I do not need more of my own righteousness.  I have plenty of that, and it smells bad to those around me.  I need the righteousness of Jesus.

I am a big sinner, a much bigger one than I realize.  I remember something my graduate teacher, Larry Crabb, told our class.  He told us that we all need to remember that within ourselves we are a whole lot more like Adolph Hitler than we are like Jesus Christ.  And this “big sinner” stuff is not laden with a ton of self-imposed guilt:  “I’m so bad, I’m so bad, I’m so bad.”  No, not at all.  It just is true, that’s all. 

And when we start there, we can embrace the good news.  I am wildly and deeply loved and cared for.  I am sick, and there is a doctor!  I am a sinner and Jesus came for me.  He doesn’t expect me to start being good and stop needing him.  I will always need Jesus, and this pleases him.  This is the way he designed it to be.  I can tell others about my failures to love, the ones that happened this week and this morning.  How I would rather my kids just leave me alone for awhile than to care about them.  That I want my life to work more than I want to know Jesus.  That I struggle deeply with lust, discontentment, depression, despair, anger, whatever it may be.  That Jesus meets me in a real way in the real life I really live, and he has not only forgiven me and cleansed me, but he has also clothed me in his righteousness and goodness.  Now that is good news that I am not ashamed to proclaim.  That is the powerful stuff.

Here is another thought on my recent entry regarding whether or not we are supposed to be protecting the reputation of the church. The fact remains clear that the church already has a reputation. The reputation might depend on what particular local church we are talking about. Or if we are thinking about the Christian Church in general, the reputation depends on who holds the opinion.

In other words, in the minds of many people, with whom I might disagree, there already exists a reputation of the church or of Christianity. My desire would not be to protect the reputation of the church, when a certain church or group of Christians has the reputation of being unloving or legalistic or self-righteous. My desire would be to help change that reputation. This would happen, not by showing them a perfect Christian (or a person trying hard to be perfect), but rather by showing them an authentic person who authentically seeks to know the loving, forgiving God of the Scriptures. Part of this authenticity involves admitting when we as the church are struggling to love each other, or when we are prideful, or when we are impotent and worldly. Part of what makes the American Church lack power is our commitment to try harder in the flesh, in our own strength, to prove that we are good.

A couple of months ago I was told by someone I know that I should be more careful about what I write on my blog and that I should be careful to “protect the reputation of the church.” Honestly, I have struggled and thought through this point of view often in the months since this conversation. I still seem to come to the same conclusion I had at that time.

I feel that the Church itself does not need to have its reputation protected. The church is full of imperfect people. The people who make up the church know that. The people who are outside of the Christian church know that too. It seems to me that it is much more helpful to be honest about our struggles both within and without the bounds of our churches, than for us to sugarcoat them with platitudes or pretend that they do not exist. Or maybe worse, for us to try harder not to have the problems we know we have.

After all, why do we need a Savior if we don’t need a Savior? Isn’t that the message of the church? That we are all just as hopeless as everyone else, but that we have found Someone who gives our lives meaning, purpose, and direction? The good news ceases to be good news if we are perfect people who can get our acts together without God. Or if we act like we are. I seem to recall some words from a Galilean carpenter about something similar: “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.”

Furthermore, as I read the Scriptures, I see no evidence that God is concerned about protecting the reputation of his people. He seems to tell stories over and over which include huge character flaws in his beloved kids. Just look at Moses, who told God he really didn’t want to go to Pharaoh and lead his people, Abraham, who lied over and over to protect his own skin, Sarah, who laughed at God’s promise of a child in her old age, David, a murderer and adulterer, Rahab, a prostitute, Peter, who didn’t have the guts to even admit he knew Jesus, and the list goes on and on. For me, this is the beauty of the entire drama of Scripture, that very flawed people like me have a God they can count on, and that this God finds joy in expressing his greatness through mundane lives like mine.

Here is an article that talks about the need many people feel after a period of deep immersement in a church to “detox from church.” The author urges all of us to remember: “People are in detox because they love Jesus and have a vision for being His Body in an advancing Kingdom on this earth.” I guess you can tell from some of my entries that I am one of those people. Therefore, this article meant a lot to me. It reminded me that I am not alone in my struggle to reconcile my place in the church. It helped me to realize there are many others out there where I am and for someone else to validate my love for Christ and his church. It also reiterated the point that this does not mean we are not free to say the hard truths we see in the church.

The article reminds us of our tasks as we detox, as well as mistakes we need to avoid. It was a great reminder and challenge to me as I struggle through this whole thing. Oh, and by the way, people who know me know that I love to tell stories on myself as well, that make me look not-so-hot and hopefully make God look really good, like he is. Here are the highlights from the article:

Task: Recapture a vision for the advancing Kingdom, expressed through the body.
Trap: To get sidetracked into attacking the system, which only breeds ongoing bitterness and contempt for the rest of the body.
Task: Allowing God to refine our attitudes, desires, and assumptions.
Trap: Assuming that the log in our own eye doesn’t exist.
Task: For leaders and disillusioned people to walk through this process with some graciousness and long-suffering.
Trap: To separate into increasingly polarized and finger-pointing camps.

Perhaps the biggest task for established churches and newer, de-structured communities (house or coffeehouse), and individuals (like me) will be to remember that this is ultimately God’s thing. It’s His Bride we’re talking about here. God is fully aware of the state the Bride is in. He’s more proactive, loving, and desirous of Her being healthy and attractive than any of us are capable of being. The trap we need to avoid is to let this whole (very necessary) process of detoxing from inadequate models of church leadership and church structure to polarize and further divide the very Bride that we’re so longing to see come to maturity and health.

©2003 Rob McAlpine

It is a tragedy to me that there is even a bumper sticker like the above. It is a tragedy to me that hatred so often typifies the actions of many religious people, even some outspoken Christians. I know that many Christians feel that the media wrongly portrays them, or at the very least jumps on stories that show the bad side of the Church. But we should at least take an honest look at ourselves and at what they are seeing and listen to what they are saying.

Judgement, condemnation, haughtiness, hatred - none of these attitudes are family values. Worse still, none of these are Christlike. And when we use these as means to win our arguments of what a marriage should consist of, or the evils of one thing or another, we are missing something essential.

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing. (1 Cor. 13)

The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through LOVE. (Gal. 5:6)

Why is the Church known more for its hatred than its love? Or at least more for its moralizing that for its love?

Thoughts?

A friend asked me this question the other day.  What she really meant to ask me by this question is where I am attending church, because I haven’t been at her church in awhile.  I wrote her back (the exchange was via email) and told her that lately my best times of worship have been in the shower and in the car.  I know that isn’t what she meant.  And I didn’t mean to be a smart-aleck.  I also did not mean to negate the importance of worshipping together corporately. 

But I am serious - humans are worshipping creatures.  And worship is not just something we do in church or on Sunday mornings.  Living a “Godward” life is worship, day-to-day life in the direction of dependence on his strength and grace.  I am worshipping God when I get up each day and keep on going when I don’t feel like it.  I’m worshipping when I sit down to homeschool my son, or when I clean up the toys - again.  Or when I lie down on the couch in the afternoon with a sigh and a prayer and a heart hungering for more grace in my life, in my exhaustion. 

What about you?  Where are you worshipping these days?

You know, I’ve been thinking, and thinking, and trying to understand some things about the Lord’s Supper, Communion, or Eucharist, depending on what tradition you’re from and what you prefer to call it.  My quandry began when my son started asking to take communion at age 6, and he desperately wanted to know why he could not take the juice and cracker served each week at the end of the service at the church we then attended.  That’s a hard one to explain, when he is such a questioner and thinker himself, and he exhibits a clear understanding of the Cross and what Jesus did to save him from his sins. 

And so, firmly believing that an acceptance at the Lord’s Table would deeply encourage his troubled heart, we pursued permission to do so.  It was a bit of an act of congress, but the leadership session decided it would be okay, after Jonathan talked to an elder about his faith and took vows of membership in front of the church.  Now, please know, that this is the usual way of anyone being admitted to the Lord’s Table at our church, so nothing different was demanded of him than of anyone else.  But this young one is troubled by doubts in the form of severe anxiety and intrusive thoughts.  So, this was too strenuous of a demand for him. 

All of that to is say that this has caused me to think, and rethink, and question, and read, and struggle through this whole issue of the Lord’s table and what is called “fencing” the table.  The main place this is discussed in the New Testament is 1 Corinthians 11.  I have read and re-read this passage, and all I can find is a verse that states, “A man (person) ought to examine himself  before he eats the bread and drinks the cup.”  Many churches want to take extra precautions in offering this meal to the very young, because they want to be sure that they understand what they are doing.  I have grown to a different understanding of the purpose of this “feast” as I like to call it.  It is a visual and sensual expression of the free grace that is lavished on anyone who will come.  It prepares the way for children to understand how we come to God, not by being able to articulate everything just right, but by just coming, as a child.

As I pondered this further, I was struck by the first Lord’s Supper, you know the one Jesus himself served his disciples the night he was betrayed, just a few hours prior to that awful event.  It is recorded in several places, but I looked again today at Luke 22.  You know, he gave that meal to all twelve of his disciples.  Even Judas.  Yes, it could be argued rightly from Corinthians, that Judas ate and drank condemnation on himself.  But, still Jesus offered him the meal.  He did not “fence” the table.  He also gave the meal to Peter, who later that same night, denied that he even knew him three times.  Jesus knew he was about to do this, and he even told Peter as much, though Peter did not believe it was possible.

My point is that for weak, sincere, struggling believers, the kind Jesus loved to hang out with, the ones with broken hearts over their sins, this is good news.  The Lord’s Table, like the gospel, is not for those who have it all together, but rather for those who need a real, living, present Saviour, in the messiness of their real lives, real sin struggles, and real doubts and failures, people who have sinned and are going to sin, people who fall and fail and mess up.  People like that should never be turned away.  And that is good news.  Because that is me. 

See what you think of this quote from Wayne Jacobsen:

The free person in Christ and the rebellious will always look the same to those who labor under religious obligation, because both ignore the conventions that govern men and women. But there is a major difference between the two. The rebel does it to serve himself and his passions, always harming others in the process and leaving a wake of anarchy behind him. The free person in Christ, however, does so because they no longer have a need to serve themselves. Having embraced God’s love at a far deeper level than any method of behavioral conformity will touch, they will guard that freedom even if it means others will misunderstand their pursuits. They reject the conventions of control not to please themselves, but Father Himself.

This makes so much sense to me.  And as a matter of fact,  I think I can relate to it so clearly right now because to some people, I look like a rebel right now.  Let me back up - our family has been struggling with some pretty severe stuff with our seven year old son for a couple of years now.  It is in the form of anxiety and explosive behavior for various reasons.  That headed us down a path of not beng able to attend church regularly for his sake.  Then  as time has gone on, other situations and struggles have caused us to question what we believe on certain issues.  We have also felt the need to pull back to be able to do this.  So we haven’t attended church regularly in awhile.  Plus, as we have pulled back, I have felt such incredible freedom that I’ve begun blogging some things which can’t be too popular to those with religious ears.

I am loving newfound freedom to speak and question, to be my hippie-ish self, to think things through for myself, to say what I think, to love those who are very different, and to know I have one leader to follow, Jesus.  And hey, if I look like a rebel to some for doing so, that doesn’t make me one.  Anybody else ever feel that way?

The song “How Beautiful” by Twila Paris has been special to me for many years. I used to listen to and sing it often, sometimes with very meaningful sign language to go along with the words. As I read the descriptions of your firsthand encounters of Christ’s love through his people, I couldn’t help but think of this song. It is a great reminder to me in this discussion of “church” that the body of Jesus truly is beautiful. As you read and listen, ponder that the first section of the song is talking about the literal body of the man Jesus, and the rest of the song captures the corporate body of Christ made up of his redeemed people learning to love.

When I become disillusioned about the “church,” (the local institution often run like a business and full of worldliness), it is so helpful to remember this true, growing, living Kingdom of people who have been rescued from themselves, a people who can’t help but pour out this true life to those around them, a people from all walks of life, all countries and languages, all social and economic backgrounds and cultures, an extremely diverse and often hidden people, who are nonetheless seeing this kingdom come in, around, and through them.

Here’s the video with words below:

How beautiful the hands that served the wine and the bread and the sons of the earth. How beautiful the feet that walked the long dusty roads and the hill to the cross.

How beautiful, how beautiful, how beautiful is the body of Christ.

How beautiful the heart that bled, that took all my sin and bore it instead. How beautiful the tender eyes that choose to forgive and never despise.

How beautiful, how beautiful, how beautiful is the body of Christ.

And as he lay down his life, we offer this sacrifice, that we will live, just as he died, willing to pay the price, willing to pay the price.

How beautiful the radiant bride who waits for her groom with his light in her eyes. How beautiful the feet that bring the sound of good news and the love of the king.

How beautiful the hands that serve the wine and the bread and the sons of the earth. How beautiful, how beautiful, how beautiful is the body of Christ.

Okay, here is where I would love to hear from any of you who have a minute to respond, and don’t be shy.  I already know you’re reading my blog.

1.  Tell me a story of how you have experienced the body of Christ in action in your life personally.  Not from afar, not in regards to seeing another person loved well.  But I would love to hear stories about the most meaningful expressions of Christ’s love to you through his people.  It might have happened in a church building or church service, or it might have happened in your home or a shopping center or anywhere. 

2.  In your mind, what is church?  You can use Scripture, personal experience, or whatever you wish to communicate your picture of what church is supposed to be.

The above is the name of a book I have recently been delighted to read.  The book is by two long-time friends, Wayne Jacobsen and Dave Coleman, and the pseudonym for their combined work as authors is Jake Colsen. 

It was one of those times when it was just the right book for exactly what I’m going through.  It made me weep, it made me think things through differently, but most of all it made me yearn more for the true life Jesus came to give us, a life of freedom and thirst to really know him, know HIM, not fit into a set of expectations a certain church or denomination has for me or my family. 

Without telling you too much about the book and ruining it for you, it is a fictional story of an unlikely meeting with John,the beloved disciple of Jesus, in the 21st century.  Throughout the course of the story, the main character, a pastor, becomes disillusioned by the religious trappings of the church institution he had been a part of beginning.  Then, in a characteristic way of our Father, he is shown a new way to think about church, as primarily relational.  It made me even more committed to stop just “going” to church and to begin “being” the church.  It revealed to me even more just how institutionalized the American church has become.  But wildly, I have more hope, not less, for the true Church after reading it, and I’m inspired to live in a new and different way.

And if that sounds like it strikes a chord with you, you can see a bit more where he is coming from by reading this essay the same author wrote about why he isn’t committed to one local institution anymore.  And if you’re reading this and you know, me, I’m NOT telling anybody to leave a particular church, just for the record.  (I’m really not.)  God works in us all differently and all according to his own time and plan.  And you have as much freedom to be where you are as I do to be where I am.

With that said, read it!  It’s good, and it’s challenging.