We don't "do" church

Some time ago a church sign caught my attention.  The sign announced a new sermon series entitled  "Why do church anyway?"

I understood what the preacher was driving at.  We often go through the motions of faith without thinking.  We come to church, sing songs,  go to Bible studies, all without a clear end in mind, because those are things seem to be expected.  It certainly makes sense that we should think how we should do things at church.

But do we "do" church?  Really?

Church is not a verb. It is a noun.  It's not something we do; it's something we are.

The church is the visible Body of Christ on earth. It is not a voluntary association like the Lions club or the Rotary or even the Republican party.  It does not exist a purpose, any more than our families exist for a purpose.  It exists because it exists,  just like you and I.

Suppose we substitute a person's name in the sign instead of the word church?  Suppose we say why "do" Mary,  or why "do" John?  The only time  "do" in used in such a context is crude slang for killing or having sex.  Either way, they become the object of either anger or desire.  To think of the church in such utilitarian terms is to depersonalize it, to deny its essence,  the very essence which makes it the church. 

We don't "do" family--we are a family.  We don't "do" church, either--we are the church, existing as a community because God put us here.  We are related by blood--not our own, but Christ's, and that means we are responsible for and beholden to each other in a bond that is greater than that of our own flesh. We are fathers, mothers, sisters, and brothers in the Lord,  called to love each other in Him.

The church is not a means to an end, not even a good end like evangelism or social justice.  It  is an organism, not an organization.  Organizations exists for a purpose.  Organisms exist because God made them for His own glory. 

The problem with the modern church is that it thinks it must  have a reason to exist.  If we applied the same utilitarian standard to infants,  the elderly, or the handicapped, it would be horrific.   If the bonds between brothers and sisters, fathers and sons,  were only important if they furthered some greater  purpose,   then the world would be a horrible, loveless place.  So why should the bonds between Christians only exists for a greater purpose?  Why can't a church just be?

The modern church, both in its traditional and  contemporary forms, has been often guilty of treating its members as mere utilities.  Contemporary church leaders in their zeal to win the lost, have often seen their members as unimportant in themselves  unless they further the cause of church growth and evangelism.  The preferences and comfort of older members are often cast aside in favor of the new, the experimental, and the innovative.  We spiritualize the abandonment of the old, calling it "pruning the dead wood" or of "throwing out the old wineskins."   C S Lewis once commented that Jesus told Peter "Feed my sheep" not  "perform experiments on my lab rats." 

The traditional church is no better, in fact it may be far worse.  Traditionalist want nothing to do with  "do" church in a differently, confusing outward form with inward conviction,  freezing the church in whatever era they feel most comfortable, allowing church ritual and expression to become increasingly irrelevant and archaic.   They, too, favor the members who can best maintain our institutions,  pay for our preachers, and bring prestige to our tarnished denominational names.

The church isn't something we do.  It's a family--a fellowship of men, women, and children in which everyone is loved, everyone is important and everyone is cherished.  When the church is viewed as a means to an end, it ceases to be a family and becomes an adornment to our egos.  It becomes  a way for pastors to prove their superior worth by performance instead of by  humbly accepting God's gift of grace. 

With all due respect and to Rick Warren (who I really do admire), I've seen the "purpose-driven church," and frankly it sickens me. I would rather have a church which goes nowhere but loves everyone than one where its members are merely means to an end. 

If there is an a way to "do" church then it should be with love, and grace,  praising God and being in favor with one another. 

Practicing the Presence of People

One writer who has greatly blessed me in his writings is Peter Scazzero.  Some time back I discovered his book The Emotionally Healthy Church, and thought it was the best thing I read on the importance of emotions in church life.  His follow up, Emotionally Healthy Spirituality,  though is much, much better. Scazzero relates our emotions to the spiritual disciplines.  In it he approaches the spiritual life in a practical and moving way.

One phrase Scazzero uses in discussing the disciplines of love stands out in my mind -- practicing the presence of people.  

I am well familiar with Brother Lawrence's devotional classic, The Practice of the Presence of God.  If you aren't, get it and read it immediately!  Brother Lawrence makes the point that we should strive at all times in all places to have an awareness of God with us,  whether we are washing dishes, raking leaves, or in prayer. 

Scazzero makes the same point about people.  We should also strive to have a constant ,immediate awareness of the people who surround us.  Modern urban society, with the necessary crowding of strangers together,  tends to make us defensive of strangers. We close off our minds so we look though them, not at them.  As a result,  people become less than human.

We need to always be aware that the people who inhabit our space are people like ourselves, having the same sins, hopes, dreams,  joys, comforts, and loves that we do.  They are made in God's image, just as we are.  They are also broken, fallible, frightened,  hurt,  happy,  and loved by God just as we are.

The opposite of practicing the presence of people  is the political mindset.  The political world view is seeing the world in terms of power--either power to help us or to hurt us.  We  either see others as votes, influences, or obstacles in our way, which must be manipulated,  maintained, or removed.

We see that view in the church all the time.  In our recent problems, we have reduced the other side to a political, not a human entity, allowing us the illusion that we can be a complete Body of Christ without them.  We can push them out of our circle without remorse, because we do not recognize their humanity.

But we are called to love our enemies, not destroy them.  We are called to love our brothers and sisters in Christ, not influence or dominate them.  We have to quit looking at one another as objects to help or oppose our side, and simply see them as people, for whom Jesus died.

Sit in a crowded room. Close your eyes. Listen to the conversations around you, without judging or prying, just listen. You will hear the hopes, dreams,  unhappiness, and happiness of everyone there.  Talk to people and let them carry the conversation. You will hear what Henri Nouwen once said, that there is infinite depth in a single human soul.  But when we see them only as means to an end,  we dehumanize them.

I have always felt this way about the church--it isn't new.  People who look to the past with nostalgia often forget that other people do not share their warm feelings about their personal past.  They will fight to keep things as they are, even if it means driving newcomers away. The newcomers don't count, in their opinion.  Contemporary churches, who insist that people who cherish the past are unimportant, do the same things. Others feelings don't matter.  Both sides think of their own comfort as more important than the comfort and well being of others.

Doctrinal and church disputes should not be trivialized. But neither should they be an excuse for  callousness.  People count and their opinions count--even those with whom we disagree. 

We can't stop disagreeing, nor can we stop defending what we think to be right.  But even then, we can still learn to practice the presence of people. 

Pastoring the Pastors Part 2

A friend of mine recently told me about his honeymoon in Switzerland. While he and his wife were walking along a mountain path, he heard a young girl scream. There, on the other side of the railing that lined the path, was a girl, about nine or ten, hanging for her life off the side of the mountain.

My friend,  being a pastor,  first asked himself four questions.

First, did she deserve to be here? Obviously, she had been disobedient to her parents, so she was there of her own accord. We cannot expect someone to come to our rescue every time we disobey.  After all, our actions can have serious consequences.

Second,  was this girl capable of saving herself?  As a rule,  ten year old girls are wiry, energetic and fairly flexible. Chances are if he did nothing she would be all right. She might be worried now, but she would find some way of climbing up.  After all, we should not do for others what they can do for themselves.

Third,  was this be best use of his time?  After all, it was their honeymoon. Switzerland is a largely pagan place these days.  He could see stopping to tell someone about Christ--after all, that would be a matter of their eternal salvation. But just to rescue a girl he did not know who  God may have already predestined to destruction--he was not sure.

Fourth,  would it not be better to pray for her?  He was not sure of his ability to save her, since he himself was not that strong, and leaning over the rail would be dangerous.  Prayer however, is always appropriate, since God can save her, and even if she were destined to die, her eternal safety would be secure.

My friend  asked nothing like any of these of course. He and his wife pulled her to safety.

I mention this to illustrate what we so often do when we come across someone in crisis.  We first want to access blame. Second, we access their abilities according to our judgment, not theirs. Third,  we assume our time is more important than theirs. Fourth, we apply the pious cop-out of generous prayer, rather than putting our prayer into action.

Two days ago, I published a blog about pastoring pastors. It occurred to me later than if I did not follow up on what I wrote, I would be guilty of doing the same thing. 

We can't just say that pastors and their families, especially pastors undergoing difficulty,  need pastoring, we need to actually do it. 

So here are some practical suggestions that I think we should consider.

1. Establish a denominational office that would work like a Human Resources department of a company.  They would be responsible for circulating and maintaining data forms,  educating pastors as to their benefits in retirement and insurance,  helping to counsel pastors through life transitions, and generally be a resource person for the personal needs of pastors and their families.  This person would have no authority, only the responsibility of smoothing the way for pastors and their families to manage the crises of their lives. This person should be knowlegable not only of resources available for pastors, but (in a denomination as small as ours, at least) of the pastors themselves, and how our system works.
2. Encourage every presbytery to have a pastor of pastors. Ideally this would be an older pastor, retired or semi-retired, with the time to go visit each pastor in their church and in their home. They would receive expenses and (if possible) a small stipend for this. They would not have any authority in the church structure to hire or fire, but would be there in the same capacity as a pastor has in a church.
3. Establish a system of mentors and coaches for pastors, similar to what we have for mission developers today.  Coaches would function to show young pastors around the system, and to offer advice and counsel. Mentors would function as spiritual directors,  giving them a confidant and accountability partner. This doesn't have to be a pastor. It should definitely not be a member of his own church, but it should be someone who does not mind asking hard questions such as "how's your prayer life?" or "How are you doing with your wife?" or "What are your  biggest personal struggles?"
4. Have a system of retreat houses for pastors and their families, where they can go for spiritual and personal retreat.  Preferably this could be done on a presbytery level.  I know that Bonclarken often opens up their facilities for this, but I do not think that most pastors know or remember this at a time of crisis. Many times, a pastor may not want to go to a place where he is liable to run into people he knows.  Perhaps people who own time-shares or vacation homes could be persuaded to open up these for a week for a pastor's family in exchange for  tax deduction from the presbytery or synod.
5. Organize small groups across the denomination so pastors can fellowship with other pastors and encourage one another in spiritual disciplines. Having people to meet with weekly face to face is ideal. If this is not possible, modern technology gives us many other options,  phone conferencing, instant messaging, video conferencing, and Skype,  just to name a few.
6. Connect pastors with larger networks for pastors in mutual support.  There are numerous prayer meetings, such as prayer summits which bring pastors and laypersons together across denominational lines. 
7. Have groups of laypersons from a large number of persons who can assist displaced pastors and their families, as well as pastors. If you want to kill an idea, give it to a busy pastor! But if you want a job done right, give it to a layperson who has a passion for it.  Surely there are people around out presbyteries who can come alongside pastors who have lost churches and help them find jobs,  shelter, personal, and financial support.

Anyway, these are a few possibilities that are out there. 

If we want to help the church, help the pastors.  They will do a better job for us, if they know that they are being covered by support, not just in prayer, but in practical living as well.

There are pastors and their wives today who are hanging by their fingers.  We have a responsibility to hear their cries.