The longer I work in the church, the more I come to think that most of us have this whole "faith" thing a little backwards.
If you look at the dictionary, the first two definitions of faith are:
1. Confidence or trust in a person or thing
2. Belief that is not based on proof
Faith has an element of trusting in the things that we cannot prove. However, many of us in the church approach faith with an "I'll believe it when I see it" attitude.
I find the very nature of this attitude a bit amusing. If we can see it...if we can prove it...do we really have faith? If we can prove it...does it really require us to put our trust in it.
Al, a member of our church staff, gave a sermon yesterday on the story of Thomas that brought this faith issue back to the forefront of my mind.
John 20: 24-25
Now Thomas (also known as Didymus), one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!” But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”
This passage comes right after Jesus appearance to the disciples (minus Thomas). Though the disciples tell Thomas of their encounter with the resurrected Jesus, Thomas will not believe until he sees it for himself.
The passage goes on to say in verse 26 -28
A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.” Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”
Jesus appears to Thomas later, Thomas gets his chance to touch Jesus' wounds and believe.
Verse 29 goes on to say...
Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
Thomas is credited for his belief, but Jesus is quick to point out that those who believe without seeing are the ones who are blessed.
I think Thomas' story is an important story for many of us today given the way that we approach our relationship with God.
We test God often with our "if you do this for me God...then I'll believe and be faithful".
We trust more in our own ability to provide for ourselves than we do in God's promise to provide for us.
We only believe in what we can see and can prove.
Hebrew's 11:1 states "Faith is being sure of what we hope for. It is being certain of what we do not see."
Ultimately, I believe we are missing out on a true blessing of what church and God is all about when we only put faith in what we can see and prove.
Few of us live our lives in a way that we really have to trust God in much of anything.
We work ourselves to death to be able to have things "stable" for our families.
We work hard to control things in our lives and we only like to participate in things that we can project or know the outcome.
We have belief in God, but we are missing the trust aspect of our faith.
Often things happen in our lives that make it impossible for us to know the outcome and instead of having faith in God, we blame God for not taking care of us to the manner in which we've become accustomed to.
Sickness comes into our lives and anger is often the first response instead of faith in God. "God, how could you let this happen to my family, we are good people."
We get laid off at work and we are afraid and angry.
I find myself often wondering where the "faith" is in our churches. We only launch ministries when we know it will be successful. We only set budgets if we know the money will be there. We only participate in ministries we are comfortable with and feel like we have a little bit of control.
We are often afraid of really being honest with our fellow church members about what is going on in our life, because we are afraid of being judged.
In so many ways we simply lack the "trust in the unseen" aspect of faith.
I know I often add to this problem more than I add to the solution.
My question to you is where in your life are you having to really trust in God?
Do you simply work toward having everything in your life controllable?
When is the last time you really had to step out in faith and put your full trust in God?
In many ways, I'm a control freak. I like to be in charge, I like to know the outcome. I can also look at my life and realize how this has hindered my relationship with God.
I had a friend in college once try to point this out to me and tell me that "Kevin, you only believe it when you see it".
Instead, he messed up this cliche and said instead "Kevin, you'll only see it when you believe it."
We both laughed when he messed up, but then had a great conversation about the truth of his actual statement.
More than anything...I believe God is just waiting to bless us in so many ways.
Not with money...
Not with possessions...
Not with ability to control things...
But with faith...
With depth of relationship with God...
With confidence and hope in the areas in our lives that are beyond our control.
With a peace that passes all understanding.
Romans 12:2 - "Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind."
Monday, April 16, 2012
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Hard Story to Sell...
At my recent visit to Haywood Street Congregation, many things stood out as different from your ordinary church experience. The experience of John going from cursing loudly and threatening people to him sitting on the Altar rail and playing along with the music during communion was certainly different (see the last 2 blog posts if you are lost right now :-))
However, the thing that had the biggest impact on me spiritually came from the message time.
Like everything else, the message time at Haywood Street Congregation is different. Instead of Pastor Brian just "preaching to us", we all had the opportunity to preach with each other.
First, Pastor Brian asked for someone in the congregation to read our scripture aloud.
Mark 16: 1-8
"When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, 'Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?' When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side: and they were alarmed. But he said to them, 'Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.' So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid."
After someone read this aloud, Pastor Brian just asked a simple question... "What did you hear in this passage?"
Instead of Pastor Brian telling us what he thinks we should hear out of the passage, he opened it up and we had a discussion as a congregation. It was fascinating to hear the different parts that stuck out to different people.
Two of those comments had a big impact on my spirit.
The first sprang from the experience with John earlier. Someone made a comment about the empty tomb and Pastor Brian used it as a teaching moment. He explained that Easter is a hard sell. The Christmas story is easy to sell because it has a cute little kid as the leading role in the story and a great supporting cast. It has gifts, singing and cute furry little animals all as part of the story. We like that story, it is an easy sell.
But Easter...all we seem to have is an empty grave. It is harder to make a graveyard cute. It is hard to market an empty tomb...it is a harder sell.
From that, Pastor Brian asked the question about "what filled our tombs" or "what in our lives needed resurrection?" He said that John's tomb was obvious. The things that haunt John were easy for most folks to see.
One gentlemen in the back made a comment that our "big homes" are just like tombs, but the sad part for us is that we are able to hide behind our doors and keep those things a secret.
This thought really got me thinking. Are our homes and possessions really tombs for us? Does our "resurrection" mean that we have to take our focus off of our "tombs" and everything that represents for us?
For many of us, our homes are our security. They block out the rest of the world and give us a place to retreat.
Our homes are also representative of our families.
Our homes are often a reflection of our social status.
Our homes are important places for us, but what does it mean to take a look at each of these things as part of our "tombs" instead of part of our "resurrection"? How can our homes and all the security, material possessions, and status that come with it, be holding us back from our relationship with God?
The second comment that really got me thinking came when Pastor Brian was wrapping up our "message" time.
He said, "If you were one of those folks that could read this text in the Greek, you would know that it is not properly translated."
He went on to explain that the Greek text ends with the word "and". For us, it ends with "and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid", but that really isn't the end of the story.
The "and" implies there is more. We know the rest of the story, so we know that the women really did not keep their mouths shut too long. The word of Jesus' resurrection spread.
For me the "and" ending of the Gospel of Mark is the authors way of allowing us to fill in the rest of the story.
Are you going to return to work on Monday and say nothing of your resurrection experience this weekend because "you are afraid"?
Are you going to go back to school next week and say nothing of your Easter experience because you are afraid of what others may think of you?
What does the "and" mean for you? How are you going to fill in the rest of the story? The Easter story doesn't just end with a great service in the morning and then some time with our families.
We are "Easter" people and we should be living out the "and".
However, the thing that had the biggest impact on me spiritually came from the message time.
Like everything else, the message time at Haywood Street Congregation is different. Instead of Pastor Brian just "preaching to us", we all had the opportunity to preach with each other.
First, Pastor Brian asked for someone in the congregation to read our scripture aloud.
Mark 16: 1-8
"When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, 'Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?' When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side: and they were alarmed. But he said to them, 'Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.' So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid."
After someone read this aloud, Pastor Brian just asked a simple question... "What did you hear in this passage?"
Instead of Pastor Brian telling us what he thinks we should hear out of the passage, he opened it up and we had a discussion as a congregation. It was fascinating to hear the different parts that stuck out to different people.
Two of those comments had a big impact on my spirit.
The first sprang from the experience with John earlier. Someone made a comment about the empty tomb and Pastor Brian used it as a teaching moment. He explained that Easter is a hard sell. The Christmas story is easy to sell because it has a cute little kid as the leading role in the story and a great supporting cast. It has gifts, singing and cute furry little animals all as part of the story. We like that story, it is an easy sell.
But Easter...all we seem to have is an empty grave. It is harder to make a graveyard cute. It is hard to market an empty tomb...it is a harder sell.
From that, Pastor Brian asked the question about "what filled our tombs" or "what in our lives needed resurrection?" He said that John's tomb was obvious. The things that haunt John were easy for most folks to see.
One gentlemen in the back made a comment that our "big homes" are just like tombs, but the sad part for us is that we are able to hide behind our doors and keep those things a secret.
This thought really got me thinking. Are our homes and possessions really tombs for us? Does our "resurrection" mean that we have to take our focus off of our "tombs" and everything that represents for us?
For many of us, our homes are our security. They block out the rest of the world and give us a place to retreat.
Our homes are also representative of our families.
Our homes are often a reflection of our social status.
Our homes are important places for us, but what does it mean to take a look at each of these things as part of our "tombs" instead of part of our "resurrection"? How can our homes and all the security, material possessions, and status that come with it, be holding us back from our relationship with God?
The second comment that really got me thinking came when Pastor Brian was wrapping up our "message" time.
He said, "If you were one of those folks that could read this text in the Greek, you would know that it is not properly translated."
He went on to explain that the Greek text ends with the word "and". For us, it ends with "and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid", but that really isn't the end of the story.
The "and" implies there is more. We know the rest of the story, so we know that the women really did not keep their mouths shut too long. The word of Jesus' resurrection spread.
For me the "and" ending of the Gospel of Mark is the authors way of allowing us to fill in the rest of the story.
Are you going to return to work on Monday and say nothing of your resurrection experience this weekend because "you are afraid"?
Are you going to go back to school next week and say nothing of your Easter experience because you are afraid of what others may think of you?
What does the "and" mean for you? How are you going to fill in the rest of the story? The Easter story doesn't just end with a great service in the morning and then some time with our families.
We are "Easter" people and we should be living out the "and".
Thursday, April 5, 2012
St. John?
I had the pleasure of visiting Haywood Street Congregation this past week. If you have never heard of Haywood Street, I encourage you to look it up (http://haywoodstreet.org/). Haywood Street is...well, an unusual church.
Haywood Street is a church that expects diversity.
They expect diversity in the form of race.
They expect diversity in economic situations.
They expect diversity in housing (or no housing) situations.
Haywood Street is a church with a high expectation of what church should be all about.
And yet...Haywood Street is a church that also carries no expectations at all.
Ultimately, Haywood Street is a church that has a heart for those who are outcasts of society.
Many churches claim this, but I must say that Haywood Street is the first church I know that lives this out to the fullest extent.
They see people as Children of God and not as scary dangerous people.
They see all people as friends...not an object to serve.
They see people as real.
I was fascinated to experience this church. I felt like I got a glimpse into what Jesus' ministry looked like. I also understood why that scared so many of the religious leaders. This wasn't a "clean" experience. People smelled, people cussed like sailors, and smoked like chimney's. I stood in line with one individual that was so drunk, I occasionally had to help keep him from falling over.
And yet, these people were loved. Not just in word...they were truly loved. The gentleman that could barely stand told me no less than 20 times how loved he felt by the church and how loved he felt by the pastors. He confessed his "drinking sin" to me just as many times. He talked about how he was held accountable by the pastors and yet the pastors still loved him when he fell off the wagon.
I also kept thinking about how these folks would not be welcomed in most churches that I know. They would be welcomed to certain activities, but they would not truly be "welcomed" the way they are at Haywood Street.
No one exemplifies this better than John. John was an interesting man. He has lived a rough life. He had quite a "smell" to him.
Haywood Street starts off their Wednesday with a free meal for the community. Lots of folks show up for this meal, but only about a third or so of them actually make their way into the worship service that follows. Many churches would see this as a failure, but Haywood Street sees this as a huge success.
As we started the service, we came to our prayer time. Just as we were about to start our pray...a profanity laced tirade started outside. A slew of f-bombs were mixed with threats of many kinds. He wasn't quiet either and he showed little sign of slowing down. Pastor Brian paused the service and stated "it sounds like Haywood Street outside, John's had a rough week, let's pray for him." Like that, we went off of our bulletin script and started to pray for John.
We prayed for peace...
We prayed for healing...
We prayed for his Spirit to be calmed...
We prayed that he would feel how loved he is in this community...
We just prayed. It wasn't in the script or bulletin, but it is what life called for at that moment.
A few moments later we heard sirens and the police outside helping calm the situation. I had a mixture of relief and fear.
Relief that they were there to calm the situation...
and fear for John that the police would react to his actions without really knowing what all was going on in his life.
We move on in the service and debrief what just happened (I'll post about that in a few days).
When we get time to the message, the back door opens and in comes John.
He walks right up the center aisle and gives Pastor Brian a big hug and apologizes. He then takes his place in one of the pews up front and just cries for a while.
How many churches do you know that would allow John to come into the service right after this experience.
The man that just dropped the f-bomb more times in 5 minutes that I've heard it used in the last year is now welcomed into the church.
The man who was just threatening to "cut" people 10 minutes before that is now sitting in the pew in front of me.
What was even more amazing is that when it came time for communion, John moved to the front of the sanctuary and sat on the Altar rail. He pulled a harmonica out of his pocket and played along with the guitar player for the communion music. The same man that caused such a stir and had me rattled is now participating in worship. No one acted like this was unusual and no one seemed bothered by the fact that John was now participating.
It was beautiful.
It was moving.
In many ways...I feel like it was my first experience of what "the church" is supposed to be.
In some ways, I also felt a great sadness as well.
I was thinking about how I would react if this same situation had played out at my own church on Sunday morning. Would I welcome him in or would I escort him out?
I know how I hope I'd react if this same situation happened this Sunday...but I was sad about how I believe I would have reacted if this had happened before I got to experience Haywood Street.
Haywood Street is a church that expects diversity.
They expect diversity in the form of race.
They expect diversity in economic situations.
They expect diversity in housing (or no housing) situations.
Haywood Street is a church with a high expectation of what church should be all about.
And yet...Haywood Street is a church that also carries no expectations at all.
Ultimately, Haywood Street is a church that has a heart for those who are outcasts of society.
Many churches claim this, but I must say that Haywood Street is the first church I know that lives this out to the fullest extent.
They see people as Children of God and not as scary dangerous people.
They see all people as friends...not an object to serve.
They see people as real.
I was fascinated to experience this church. I felt like I got a glimpse into what Jesus' ministry looked like. I also understood why that scared so many of the religious leaders. This wasn't a "clean" experience. People smelled, people cussed like sailors, and smoked like chimney's. I stood in line with one individual that was so drunk, I occasionally had to help keep him from falling over.
And yet, these people were loved. Not just in word...they were truly loved. The gentleman that could barely stand told me no less than 20 times how loved he felt by the church and how loved he felt by the pastors. He confessed his "drinking sin" to me just as many times. He talked about how he was held accountable by the pastors and yet the pastors still loved him when he fell off the wagon.
I also kept thinking about how these folks would not be welcomed in most churches that I know. They would be welcomed to certain activities, but they would not truly be "welcomed" the way they are at Haywood Street.
No one exemplifies this better than John. John was an interesting man. He has lived a rough life. He had quite a "smell" to him.
Haywood Street starts off their Wednesday with a free meal for the community. Lots of folks show up for this meal, but only about a third or so of them actually make their way into the worship service that follows. Many churches would see this as a failure, but Haywood Street sees this as a huge success.
As we started the service, we came to our prayer time. Just as we were about to start our pray...a profanity laced tirade started outside. A slew of f-bombs were mixed with threats of many kinds. He wasn't quiet either and he showed little sign of slowing down. Pastor Brian paused the service and stated "it sounds like Haywood Street outside, John's had a rough week, let's pray for him." Like that, we went off of our bulletin script and started to pray for John.
We prayed for peace...
We prayed for healing...
We prayed for his Spirit to be calmed...
We prayed that he would feel how loved he is in this community...
We just prayed. It wasn't in the script or bulletin, but it is what life called for at that moment.
A few moments later we heard sirens and the police outside helping calm the situation. I had a mixture of relief and fear.
Relief that they were there to calm the situation...
and fear for John that the police would react to his actions without really knowing what all was going on in his life.
We move on in the service and debrief what just happened (I'll post about that in a few days).
When we get time to the message, the back door opens and in comes John.
He walks right up the center aisle and gives Pastor Brian a big hug and apologizes. He then takes his place in one of the pews up front and just cries for a while.
How many churches do you know that would allow John to come into the service right after this experience.
The man that just dropped the f-bomb more times in 5 minutes that I've heard it used in the last year is now welcomed into the church.
The man who was just threatening to "cut" people 10 minutes before that is now sitting in the pew in front of me.
What was even more amazing is that when it came time for communion, John moved to the front of the sanctuary and sat on the Altar rail. He pulled a harmonica out of his pocket and played along with the guitar player for the communion music. The same man that caused such a stir and had me rattled is now participating in worship. No one acted like this was unusual and no one seemed bothered by the fact that John was now participating.
It was beautiful.
It was moving.
In many ways...I feel like it was my first experience of what "the church" is supposed to be.
In some ways, I also felt a great sadness as well.
I was thinking about how I would react if this same situation had played out at my own church on Sunday morning. Would I welcome him in or would I escort him out?
I know how I hope I'd react if this same situation happened this Sunday...but I was sad about how I believe I would have reacted if this had happened before I got to experience Haywood Street.
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