MOVING ON (Part 1)
There are so many things that come flooding into your mind when you start to think about the church and the ways it has failed to live up to the promise you think it has, the reasons for this, and what might be changed. As is always the case, the best ideas and the way to express them come to you at the most inconvenient times – in bed, in the bathroom, in the middle of some other activity, and when you sit down later to write, the idea and the eloquence has disappeared. Finally, I have no books in Bratislava to give some guidance and I wish I knew more about such things as “post-modernism”, and other contemporary thinking in order to talk intelligently about engaging our culture.
Initially I listed some ideas, tried to organize my thinking, and then finally gave up and just started to write. 2 installment so far. 3 or 4 in
all probably. This is not going to be a scholarly treatise. I wanted it to be heartfelt, honest and in the end to speak to people I have loved and a church (both local and generally) that I think needs to rethink its future.
Some 20 years ago my family began to attend our local conservative church. There were many good people we met along the way. My family and I were served and served in turn. The church started small, and grew to a morning service of about 600 people. We attended Sunday services faithfully, were involved with every outreach, event or program to which we might contribute. We led a care group which was a blessing for 3 years. We encouraged each other in spiritual things. In particular we many in the group had come to our church from a charismatic background, and I was inspired by this group who wanted all that the Bible seemed to promise about a relationship with God. I enjoyed a variety of music, but moreso contemporary music which seemed more relevant and which spoke to my restlessness and passion. I developed a burning desire for more, for an experience and adventure with God that few others seemed to understand, particularly a staunchly conservative group in the church who were firmly opposed to any tendency toward the gifts and charismatic practice. They seemed to have little to worry about. Only the most foolish in the congregation called out “Amen” at high points in the sermon, the youth were controlled, we sat while we sang unless told to stand, although one or two of my charismatic friends sang with an arm (or two) in the air. And I started to be more expressive as well.
I remember the first time I decided I would stand uninvited as we sang a worship song during an evening service. I was after every bit of blessing and connection to God that was possible. I wanted our congregation to be set on fire and hoped I might challenge them. I stood alone. No one joined me. I expect every one in the place wondered what the heck was going on with me. A couple weeks later one of the conservative group approached me. She wanted to talk with me about my action. She reminded me of the large charismatic group in our church. “And did I not realize”, she asked, “that these people were just waiting to emote?”
What do you do in the face of such a challenge? Why, you start to stand at every possible opportunity, and while it was often a lonely feeling, to do this by yourself (although my wife often accompanied me), in front of 600 people I was not to be deterred. Uninhibited worship was one way I thought we might feel more of God’s presence. As time went on, others did begin to join me, and sometimes initiate the activity, but it never became a phenomenon of the Spirit. And there was a resistance to this kind of spontaneity that is as strong 3 years later as it was then.
The church was in bondage to fear. It was in part, conservatism that gave rise to the fear. Pride also was at its root. “We don’t do that here. That’s for the charismatics who are unable to control their passions”. Control played a significant part. Expression must be controlled because it may offend. The lady who spoke to me did not speak for the leadership, but she said what they were afraid to say. Despite the occasional rhetoric as to why we get excited at hockey games, but not at church, never did a pastor or elected leader lead or join me that I recall.
But I think even more telling, is the fact that never did anyone in leadership ever think to talk with me and inquire about my spiritual journey, ask where I was going and offer to journey along, even just to observe. That is incomprehensible to me now. Perhaps none of them cared where this journey was taking me, maybe they were just embarrassed by it all. Comfortable pew sitting seems to be the extent of most people's expectation for this Christian life.
So what do I conclude from this story?
Churches such as this have lost their sense of wonder and curiosity. Apparently, there is nothing that goes on in people’s spiritual life (including apparently the lives of those who lead) that causes them on occasion to rise up and shout out, “You are an amazing God!”, or “I love You so much God that I just can’t hold back. Please give me more!” How can people who claim that God is their highest priority be so numb or so restrained emotionally? “The Christian is the one whose imagination should soar beyond the stars,” said Dr Schaeffer in “The Church at the End of the 20th Century. And to this I say, that if our imagination soars surely we will at times, in fact more often than not, emote.
How has this happened. Two things come to mind.
It has been said that the fundamentalists are people of the Book, and not of the Spirit. I think it’s true, and in the worst way. We are so committed to acquiring knowledge and a right theology that the Spirit no longer informs the way we do anything.
Secondly, the Sunday morning service has become so predictable and programmed that there is no wonder, no awe. We sing our songs, take our collection, make the announcements, send the children off to Sunday School and listen to the sermon. After years of the same old thing there is no mystery, there is no sense that anything different might take place from week to week. And of course nothing does, because we create the circumstances that ensure nothing extraordinary happens. And we apparently believe that God is pleased somehow with this boredom and sameness.
So how might we address this?
The Spirit must lead, and where He does he will not lead us to knowledge, but rather to understanding. He will show us that the New Testament account is not dry and unchanging, but dynamic, sometimes a little whacky and always unpredictable. It is God pursuing His mission, and it has little to do with rules and regulation. Recently I read an article in the Guardian, by a Bishop who noted how the Easter story in the Bible “tumbled out in bits and pieces, with breathless chasings to and fro – and then stories like nothing else before or since”. It defied all known categories of explanation. The writer went on: “It sometimes seems that the church can hardly cope with this any more than the world can. Perhaps that’s why (after a few hours of Easter celebration) many churches return to normality”. But nothing can be “normal” after Easter…And if Easter is all about the surprise of new creation, then there is every reason that it will ripple out into the world in ways we would never imagine… Extremism? What can be more extreme than God raising Jesus from the dead after the world has done its worst to Him. Supposing the power of that event were to be released into the world, into local communities, into ordinary lives here and now? What might that look like?”
I wonder as well and I'm not sure I have many answers. I expect that we would spend far less time dissecting passages of scripture in multiple point sermons and less time proclaiming "Thou shalt not...". There would be little "ain't it awful" talk. Instead we would rediscover the power of the gospel in stories, in considering the beauty and the grace of the Lord in the world that surrounds us, in accounts of God's love for people and how they then express that love to others. We would be challenged to think beyond our limits. We would see God at work.
We must recover our freedom to celebrate. Collective joy had always been a part of people's lives prior to Christianity. It was pleasurable and therapeutic. Not surprisingly singing, dancing and ecstatic expression was also thought by pagan religions to lead to individual experience with God. Naturally these celebratory practices were a part of the early Gentile church, and no doubt it is these that Paul addresses in 1st Corinthians. Later the organized church systematically restricted free expression during collective celebration, finally dissociating itself from its own former joyous demeanour, offering ritual, solemnity and high aesthetics in its place.* I expect that it was at this time, as individual expression was limited, and regulation was imposed that the clergy/ laity divide was formed and preaching right doctrine took precedence at church gatherings. I find no evidence in 1st Corinthians that Paul believed joyful celebration should be eliminated and replaced. We should reclaim this ground. Joy is the possession of the redeemed.
In line with this, I also believe that we must change our understanding of what Sunday morning is about. If it is simply to preach, sing as directed and to attend Sunday school, tally the numbers of those who attend and of what is given, then our churches will not change, and they will completely lose any claim to relevance. But if Sunday morning is seen as a time to prepare for and engage in mission through celebration, ministering to one another, the exercise of gifts, hearing from God and worshipping, then there is reason to hope.
If this is to happen however we must change the mindset that Sunday morning is always to be a big gathering where we come and bring people so that we can be preached at. This practice was the work of the “joy killers”, and presently I wonder if this form is really necessary. While there should always be times for large gatherings, and strong, sound teaching, I wonder if maybe most Sunday mornings are for small groups to gather where essential things can really happen; such as real community and concern. Where we might notice the one who is flying spiritually high and want to join him/her, or at least talk to him about where he is at or let him share; who knows, we might all be lifted up. Or where one who is down will be noticed and prayed with and loved to health. Where the gifts could be exercised as they were in the early church, and where a gift would truly be missed if it were absent as Paul suggests. Where meaningful conversation might take place as we really come to know one another. Where there is no pastor/ laity division and teaching can be an interactive event. Where various forms of intimate worship ( such as regular communion, responsive reading, testimonies, confession, to name a few) might occur, in addition to, or as alternatives to, singing.
This is an exciting time. We are being called to a different future.There’s still much more to talk about, but it's time for me to close for now. But how about you? What do you think? Why not add an idea.
* “Dancing in the Streets: A History of Collective Joy by Barbara Eirenreich
* I recently read a touching letter, (and an intelligent, sensitive response), entitled “When The Church Fails Us” *. There the letter writer notes her desire both for meaningful conversation, as well as participation (sorely lacking in our church today), see http://www.ransomfellowship.org , the website of Denis and Margie Haack who have a speaking, writing and mentoring ministry intended to help Christians respond appropriately to the challenges presented by this complex world. If you like intelligent writing about relevant issues I highly recommend it.
* There’s a lengthy, but interesting discussion on care groups/ house churches at http://www.jesuscreed.org Go to the Emerging church category, comment dated March 13, 2007 and particularly the comments thereunder.


