It was with some trepidation that I ploughed ahead with our plans to have a public worship gathering. We had a place (7Hills) and we set a time (6:30 Sundays). Although I’ve spent the last two years with a small group of people (the core of the Journey) and feel safe with them, I was more than a little worried about what others might think. With these (and many more) questions swirling in my head, we gathered anyway:

• Will there be enough food?
• Will anybody else show up?
• Will they like what we do?
• Will they like us/me?
• Will they think I’m too old?
• Gee, I’m starting to sound a little pathetic . . .
• Will we meet any of their needs?
• Will they be able to see/hear my heart?
• Will they come back after tonight?

I used to have a friend. (He passed away about a year and a half ago.) He didn’t go to church, hadn’t been in a church for over twenty years. Robert lived across the street from the church where I was the pastor. Every so often I would walk across the street and visit with him on his front porch. We talked about a lot of different stuff. At first, Robert was leery of me and skeptical of my motives. I never asked him to come to my church, because I knew he would be uncomfortable.

One Sunday, we were having our worship outdoors and everyone would be in jeans and t-shirts. I thought Robert might find it less intimidating, so I asked if he’d like to come . . . and, to my surprize, he did. And the next week he came to worship indoors. And the next week, the same. He told me that he kinda enjoyed that first Sunday outdoors, and that people treated him OK. The second and third Sundays were tests, to see if people would keep being nice to him. “I figured I’d scare ‘em,” he said. [Robert was a large man . . . he wore bike leathers, sported large, dark tatoos, a bushy beard, and long (usually dirty) hair. I'd have been frightened if I'd met him in a dark alley, rather than his front porch.] He was surprised that people were still nice to him on his subsequent visits. (Truth be told, I was little surprised myself, but I couldn’t have been happier).

After a few months of never missing worship, Robert wasn’t there one Sunday. Monday morning I was walking toward the church and Robert was sitting on his porch. He waved me down and started to cross the street toward me. I couldn’t read his expression from where I was standing, so I considered running. [Remember, he was a big, burly bikeman.] But I stood my ground. “Brother Bob,” he called out (I don’t know when he started calling me that, but it was a good sign). “I wanted to explain where I was yesterday.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” I replied.

“But I want to,” he insisted. “We have a friend who’s in jail. The prison visitation is only on Sundays and we went to see her yesterday. I’m so sorry we weren’t at church.”

I was taken aback by his explanation . . . not so much by what he said he was doing, but because he felt it necessary to rationalize his absence from the church service. I wanted to say, “Robert, please don’t come back to my church. I don’t want that kind of attitude rubbing off on you. I don’t want my church to ruin you!”

Instead, I said, “Robert,” “that’s God-work! Visiting people in jail is just the kind of stuff Jesus taught us to do. And it’s much more important than being at church.”

I’m really careful about who I invite to church nowadays. I wouldn’t want any of my friends to be ruined. To them I say, “please, don’t come to my church”

[Actually, my church is a great church and I don't think it would ruin any of my friends. But a certain kind of mindset sometimes kicks in sub-consciously. It's part of the "church culture" baggage that we seem to have in this country . . . but I guess I'll save that rant for another day.]

Nicholas Gray has written an interesting post over at Essential Shift. Here’s an excerpt:

If I had it my way I would do away with outreach events. I would get rid of every event we hold at our church that is geared towards bringing non-Christians to our church. Now let me explain. Non-Christians are non-Christians for a reason, and they don’t come to church for a reason. 99% of everyone here in America has been to a church, has been invited to a church, or has been witnessed to, and there are still those who want nothing to do with the church. Why do we think that inviting them to a murder mystery night get them to change their mind? I’ll tell you why, we want it on our turf, we want to call the shots. . . .

. . . I think we have forgotten how important communication is. People don’t like to be talked at, they like to discuss, ask questions, and unfortunately we don’t give that type of atmosphere at the church. There is a preconceived notion among non-Christians that when they are at church they will be talked at. We don’t give them a whole lot of evidence the other way either. If we go to them, they are comfortable, they are in control. In that situation, they can ask questions and even leave if they want to. You can read the whole post here.

Nicholas is absolutely right. Of course, Christians aren’t alone in preferring our comfort zone, but we sure can’t BE the church by remaining cocooned in our little safe sanctuary. Real ministry . . . real love . . . is done out there, not in here. Never once did Jesus set up camp and hold a “y’all come” blueberry pancake breakfast. He was always among the people . . . touching, talking, healing, teaching.

Following the Jesus way is messy, but it’s the only way to be real. A friend of mine said it this way, “If you’re going to be a real Chirstian, you’ve got to sit in the smoking section.” If we want to be real we have to risk being out of our comfort zone; we’ve got to risk uncomfortable questions; we’ve got to enter the “unsafe” discussion; and take the risk of letting others call the shots; even the risk of letting them walk away (something Jesus was never afraid to risk).

In my next post, I’ll give you yet another reason to say, “Don’t come to my church.”

Here is an oldie but goodie from Tony Campolo (my favorite radical). I ran across again this week and decided to share it here:

I would urge you to consider this fully, and to think about the words of St. Augustine: “The church is a whore, but she’s my mother.” That statement brilliantly conveys how I feel about church. It is easy for me, like so many of the young Evangelicals I know, to note the ways the church has been unfaithful as the bride of Christ. You don’t have to look too hard to see that the Evangelical church in America has a great propensity for reducing Christianity to a validation of our society’s middle-class way of life. Unquestionably, the church too often has socialized our young people into adopting culturally established values of success, rather than calling them into the kind of countercultural nonconformity that Scripture requires of Christ’s followers (Romans 12:1-2).
[Tony Campolo from Letters to a Young Evangelical]

Embedded in Tony’s comments is this remarkable quote from St. Augustine: “The church is a whore.” I guess thoughtful Christians have fully recognized the failings of the church for quite a long time, huh? But it is the second part of the Augustine quote: “she is my mother” that gives me pause today. It’s easy to bash the church for not being everything she’s supposed to be. [Although I'm not everything I'm supposed to be.] However, it is also the church that has given us the saints, teachers, reformers, and martyrs of the faith. It is the church that gave rise to the great social reform movements . . . that gave us Mother Teresa, Martin Luther King, and Desmond Tutu, to name a few.

Disillusionment with the church can really only come from an accurate interpretation of what the church is meant to be, . . . and that doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It happens in the womb of the church . . . at least it did for me (that the desire to experience the kingdom of God “on earth as it is in heaven” is birthed) and at the bosom of the church (where that desire is suckled into a proper understanding of God’s mercy, peace, and righteousness). Even Jesus’ ministry came from within the temple culture of Judaism.

Jesus had myriad criticisms of that religious system (as did his prophetic predecessors), as only an “insider” can. Yet, it was that system that had spawned his devotion to the God, Yahweh. And it was his study of the Hebrew prophets that helped him to conceive of what Tony dubbed “the kind of countercultural nonconformity” exhibited by Jesus and his earliest followers.

This Sunday @ 6:30pm, we’re hosting a Journey Community Gathering. It’s in the basement at Seven Hills Church (18th and Alexander Ave in Owensboro). We’ll be serving up some good food (chili) and good conversation. Actually, the conversation is really the point, although I’ve found that food enhances the dialogue.

The discussion theme for the evening will be “Community.”  So we’ll be talking about what it is, why we need it, and how to acheive it. Hope you can join us.

I believe theology is for people, not the other way around. It’s really just thinking about God, which is best done in community. I invite you to enter into dialogue with us as we do theology. I called it a process in the title, but I think “event” may be a better description. At its best, it emerges as people in community struggle together to put words to their experience of the holy. Words are really all we’ve got to get our minds around spiritual realities that are often beyond words. But not to name it, not to put it in a story, or a poem, leaves us all a little poorer. So . . . let’s wrestle with the words, together!

A friend forwarded the following series of questions:

“Now here is a question. Jesus died for man’s sins. [I digress but why do people have to die to satisfy God? Wiped out a bunch in the flood because they were bad. Sodom and Gomorrah wiped off the map because they were too much like Vegas. Told Abraham to kill his son Ishmael (or was it Isaac) to test his faith. Tortured Job for the same reason. Sent His only Son to die. What's with the sacrifices? A big thank you is not enough?] Back to the original question. What sins did Jesus have to die for? Was it original sin? If you don’t buy the Adam and Eve story does the whole saved by Christ’s sacrifice go out the window? Do you have to believe A to get to Z or can you believe in bits and pieces? I am not asking to pick a fight, but I honestly don’t know the answers to these questions.”

These are important questions! And this author is not alone in asking them. A lot of people are finding the “handed down” orthodox answers to be less than satisfactory. I enter the dialogue here, not because I’ve got all the answers, but because the questions need to be pondered, not avoided. “Wrestling” with such ponderables is at the center of faith and is something of its essence. Here is my offering to the continuing conversation: (more…)

At the Journey Gathering on Sunday night we never got around to our planned interactive guided Bible study. In fact, I don’t think we even read a single verse of scripture. That’s because we were busy talking. Yep, just talking. To be honest, it wasn’t just “shooting the breeze” kind of talking (well, at least not all the time). Most of the time we were on subject, but we didn’t follow the plan.

Here’s what we planned:

• 15-20 min. music (while we meet, greet, and eat)
• 10 min. semi-guided conversation in small groups
• 40-45 min. interactive guided Bible study in large group
• 15-20 min. music (while we share Communion and disperse)

Here’s what we actually did:

• 15-20 min. music (while we meet, greet, and eat) . . . Good start, right?
• 70 min. semi-(un)-guided conversation in small groups . . . oops!
• 10 min. quickly share Communion before everybody leaves . . . oops, again!

Oh, well . . . Hey, I’m glad we didn’t follow the plan. Had we followed the plan we could never have had the significant dialogue that we did. Our conversations were real! They were lively, animated, intense (at times), and honest. Not everybody agreed, nor did they politely try to agree. But nobody was disagreeable, either. That’s pretty significant in itself. And isn’t that enough?

At a time when everyone seems to have an agenda, it’s nice to lay the agenda aside. Nearly all of the words aimed at us have a target. We are bombarded with a relentless assortment of words (and images) specially crafted to elicit a response from us. They are designed to make us want to buy something, do something, or feel good about something. I’m not just talking about advertising either.

Most of the people I interact with have an agenda, too. I can’t tell you how many times a conversation has turned on the phrase, “Let me tell you why I called/dropped by.”  I just did it myself, not half an hour ago. I called a friend, exchanged a few pleasantries about their recent trip to Morocco (like I cared . . . well actually I did). But then I heard myself say those words . . . “Let me tell you why I called.”  Conversation over!

I don’t mean that my friend hung up on me . . . but we quit talking for sake of talking and the agenda took over, so the conversation ended. I accomplished what I wanted to accomplish, checked it off my list, but we never got back around to their trip, their family, nor anything else that’s important to them. I ought to call them back and start the conversation all over again with the same words, “Let me tell you why I called.”  Only this time I could add, . . . “I called just to talk.”  Wouldn’t that be something?

I posted a few days ago that my father-in-law (Allen) had passed away. It has been a very hard time for my family. It has also been very interesting to me. Allen was a unique man. He was one of the very few people I ever met who was completely devoted to his church, yet his life was not centered around it.

Allen battled cancer for 10 years. In that time he took every available opportunity to let God use the cancer in him as a witness to others. His devotion to his church meant we didn’t always see eye to eye. He thought he was the person he was because of his church and I thought he was the man he was in spite of his church. Either way I respected him a great deal.

It is the opposing ideas that Allen and I had of what made him the man he was that I found to be so interesting during his visitation. Allen was very well known and loved by people both in his church and outside it. For that reason there were lots and lots of visitors. I watched them. I listened to them. I can’t say that I was amazed by the things that I heard, but I was disappointed.

Look first at some of the quotes from the people he went to church with:

He was at church every Sunday.
He never missed Sunday School.
He was always at the Men’s Prayer Breakfast.
He sure loved his church.
He always gave his tithes.

Now look at some of the quotes I heard from those who don’t go to church:

I have never met a more loving person.
I became a Christian because of Allen.
Allen always loved me no matter what.

There were many more on both sides. That gives you an idea though.

Let’s try to look at these statements as dispassionately as we possibly can. Maybe it would help to get the mindset that you are an alien with no knowledge of the human race, Christianity, or anything. What would the statements you heard say to you about Christians and non Christians?

Looking at that way is actually very scary. It says that Christians care only about their special little club with all it’s rules, rituals and activities centered around a building. It says that nothing is more important than supporting your club with your time and money. In other words, everything is all about the building and the things that happen inside it and very little about about anything outside it.

On the flip side what does this say about non Christians? It seems they are more concerned with the type of life you live. They are concerned with the example you set in front of others.

Is this really the image that Christians want others to see? It seems this is just the mindset and religious junk that caused Jesus to so despise the religious leaders of his day. Yet it permeates today’s Christianity.

I hope someday the culture of Christianity will wake-up and realize what arrogant narcissists we look like to the rest of the world. I hope that someday Christians will realize that we should be the ones leading the charge on issues involving love, compassion, and social justice instead of hiding in our churches away from the big, bad, scary world. If that day ever comes I pray Christians also find the courage and desire to make real changes.

This world could use many more Christians like Allen. Whether because of or in spite of church he was one of the finest examples of Jesus a person could ever meet.

Imagine you are one of the children of Israel wandering through the wilderness hungry. God has promised to provide food for all of you. One morning you wake up to find that Josephus has lots and lots of manna. He tells everyone that God is providing manna to him for everyone.
Josephus sells manna to each family every day for whatever they can pay. He takes food, jewelry, animals, or anything of value.

Before long Josephus starts telling everyone that God has spoken to him and gave him a new set of laws and commandments. He says God has instructed him to only give manna to those that are following the rules he has set before them. Guess what everyone does? They follow Josephus new laws and commandments. After all Josephus is the one that God chose to be the food supplier to all the people of Israel.

Josephus quickly becomes the most wealthy and powerful man of all the Jews. He has replaced Moses as leader.

One night you wake up in the middle of the night to use the nearest tree. As you walk out you notice the ground all around you is covered with manna. You decide to check this out just as soon as you finish doing what brought you out of your tent in the first place. While taking care of business you hear voices and notice that Josephus and his whole family are walking around and picking up all the manna.

The next night you stay up to see what is going on. You notice that manna falls from the sky over the whole encampment and again Josephus and his family are collecting it. You suddenly realize that manna has been free for everyone all along. However, Josephus has led you to believe that the way to get manna is through him. Josephus is a middleman where one is not needed.

How would this make you feel? Would you feel misled? Would you think you had been deceived? Would you be angry? What about resentment?

Allow me to ask one last question. When you read this story do you see an analogy to the modern church? Here’s a hint. Josephus equals the church. The manna equals access to God.

At the end of my last post I said I would be talking about the problems I have come across in this new walk with Jesus. However, I’m struggling to get the things I want to say to come out sounding right. So, if you came looking for that I apologize. I will get to it soon. I hope. Instead I want to go into more detail about something related to the depression I talked about in my previous post.

Alan Knox from “The Assembling of the Church” blog left a comment on my last post about the the terrible reaction of today’s Christian culture to depression in it’s ranks. It got me thinking. Let me tell you some of the reactions I received from Christians concerning my depression:

• It was because of a lack of faith on my part (the same reason Alan mentioned)
• It was because I had unresolved sin in my life
• It was because I didn’t attend Church enough
• It was merely an attack of Satan and if I would just bind him in the name of Jesus he would have to flee and my depression would be gone

There were others, but you get the idea. Eventually I found out my depression did have a cause. An incompetent doctor induced it with faulty treatment for a legitimate medical issue I had. Please understand medically induced depression is just as real as any other. The incredible pain and loneliness simply cannot be described or understood by someone who has never experienced it. The bottom line is my depression was due to something totally beyond my control. Yet every Christian I ran across had a reason for it, and a cure for it. All the reasons blamed me. All the cures involved a church.

I didn’t receive love, grace, and compassion. I received love along with condemnation. I received grace with a side of accusations. I received compassion with a healthy helping of disgust. I received all of them with the need for stronger commitment to church. People told me more than once that they were simply showing me tough love. The result of all the tough love along with the downright ridiculous attitudes displayed by Christians was that I gave up on God at that time. God had been my only hope. I had been clinging to the idea that God was the only thing that was going to pull me out of my depression.

When I couldn’t find God in those whom should have been displaying him I lost hope. I lost the desire to fight. I nearly ended my own life.

Why am I writing this? I merely ask that you think about what I have written here. Not because I want your pity. Not because I want you make apologies or excuses for the actions of people who should have known better. It is because there is a good chance that you are going to run into a person or even more than one person in your life that is depressed to some extent great or small.

When that happens they don’t need your snap judgments, Christian psycho-babble, condemnations, accusations or quick fixes. They need to see love, compassion, and grace. Truck loads of them. In other words they need to see Jesus, and they need to see him in you. If not it may be the last time you see them alive. I know, because several years ago when I couldn’t find Jesus in those around me I was mere moments from that person being me.