me thinking about the church. part 3.

When it comes to change (*gasp! *choke!) in the church, we are often handicapped, our legs taken right out from under us, because change means choosing, and choosing means some are on one side and others are on another side. And all of this means that when we try to DO SOMETHING, try to GO SOMEWHERE, there will be someone who doesn't like it. And do you know what happens next? We capitulate to the most conservative voice and decide not to cause a ruckus. The Conference administration team gets a call from a concerned woman with a shrill voice, or an influential man with gravitas... But maybe what we need most is ruckus.


The truth is that we consistently handicap ourselves by the moralization of personal and cultural preference. In the business world, the bottom line is profit ("How much money can we make?"). In the non-profit world, the bottom line is effectiveness ("How many people can we help?"). But in the world of the church, the bottom line is rightness and righteousness. This is especially true in my own denomination, the Seventh-day Adventist Church, because we correctly place a high value on theological correctness and obedience to God. And yet, this rightful priority is also obstructing our effectiveness and strangling our mission. 


We have made every decision into a moral one and it has stolen from us the very necessary skill of discernment. We Christians have a terribly difficult time distinguishing "what I like" from "what is right." And as we fight against the plague of moral relativism, we are poisoning ourselves with the virus of over-moralizing. And by "we" I mean "Christians," those bearing the name of Christ, which includes me. Everything is spiritual, which means everything is theological, but that doesn't mean everything needs to be organized into RIGHT and WRONG boxes. I have this hunch that there's a HUGE pile in the universe that God has labeled "Either."


Innovation is risky because it means choosing which means "sides" and that definitely means ruckus. But innovation could very well be the difference between life and death, in which case, it's probably worth the risk.
 

 

me thinking about the church. part 1.

I have to admit that though I love being part of the Seventh-day Adventist movement, any just-out-of-the-box naivete that I used to have about the church has lost its sheen. The foundation of the church is Jesus, but the building blocks are people (1 Peter 2:4,5) and those are pretty fallible building blocks.

But it's strange how we want "the church" to be patient with believers, we want "them" to recognize that people aren't instantly perfected when they join our fellowship, but then we expect "the church" to be pretty close to perfect all the time. But isn't the church just people like us? --people struggling to be faithful, trying to find the middle line, pressing on toward the Kingdom but stumbling a bit along the way? If that's not the church, then what is?

The thorn and the gift.

I will not burden you with the full story; you don't have time, and I'm not sure I have the energy. But I couldn't help but share this small bit of the tale.

I have what Paul called a "thorn in the flesh." It afflicts my body, it affects my mind, it hurts. I've been living with it for 10 years and I cannot number for you the times that I have wished/prayed/willed that it go away.

"To keep me from becoming conceited . . . there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. . . . I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me." 2Cor 12:7,8

Yet in these last few weeks I have realized as never before that the thorn, though it hurts, is a gift. God has surprised me with profound blessings in the suffering. I recognize now that through the pain Christ has taught me submission and reverence; He has demonstrated His power to heal and to save; He has chipped away at my self-interest; He has caused me to seek after His glory; He has taught me to trust Him through darkness; He has kept me weak and depending upon Him.

"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' There fore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses . . . . For when I am weak, then I am strong." 2Cor 12:9,10