“Glorious Mess and Productive Agitation” (part 1 of 2)
We have no idea what is inside until something difficult comes along and takes
a bite out them which exposes what’s on the inside—often times much to our
surprise. People are different; they
have different stories, different backgrounds and come with different operating
systems that can make getting along difficult. We are flawed, quirky, and
fearfully and wonderfully wired.
Face it, people are messy.
I
posted a picture of a stamp I found in an art store to FaceBook that read,
“Family is like fudge. It’s mostly sweet, but has some nuts.” I got a lot of
“Amens,” double “Amens” and many interesting comments from those who know my
family. Life may be like a box of chocolates, but family is more like one of
those fruit cakes grandma used to make with a bunch of nuts and unidentified
fruit pieces held together in a concrete-like concoction. Family is a messy
business not just because it includes human beings, but also because of the
closeness of relationships lends itself to the potential for hurts and wounds.
The deepest wounds we experience seem to be from the people who are closest to
us.
Church
becomes a new Family, yet as you draw closer in relationship with one another in
your church, the greater the potential is for pain in those relationships. Why
would anyone in their right mind invite more pain and suffering than we already
go through every day? Hellerman says, “As church-going Americans, we have been
socialized to believe that our individual fulfillment and our personal
relationship with God are more important than any connection we might have with
our fellow human beings, whether in the home or in the church. We have, in a
most subtle and insidious way, been conformed to this world." He
says, “The New Testament picture of the church as family flies in the face of
our individualistic cultural orientation.”[1]
J.I.
Packer writes, “God uses chronic pain and weakness, along with other
afflictions, as his chisel for sculpting our lives. Felt weakness deepens
dependence on Christ for strength each day. The weaker we feel, the harder we
lean [on Jesus]. And the harder we lean, the stronger we grow spiritually, even
while our bodies waste away. To live with your ‘thorn’ uncomplainingly—that
is, sweet, patient, and free in heart to love and help others, even though
every day you feel weak—is true sanctification. It is true healing for the
spirit. It is a supreme victory of grace.”
As
we conclude with discipleship, I would be remiss if I failed to mention that authentic
community is part of the multifaceted process by which God does His sanctifying
work in us. Often we are so concerned about protecting ourselves that we run
from the very thing that God is using to shape us in the image of His Son.[2] Part of the work God intends to do in us
comes through the productive agitation of the commitment to relationships in
community life. God calls you as an
individual and puts you into His sacred collective as rough rocks are put into
a rock tumbler that will turn us into precious stones and beautiful gems.
Christianity is a “together” enterprise. God never intended any one of us to go
it alone.
The
lyric to a Paul Simon songs goes like this, “I've built
walls, a fortress deep and mighty that none may penetrate. I have no need of
friendship, friendship causes pain. It's
laughter and it's loving I disdain I am a rock, I am an island.
I
have my books and my poetry to protect me. I am shielded in my armor, hiding in
my room, safe within my womb. I touch no
one and no one touches me. I am a rock, I am an island
And a rock can feel no pain And an island never cries.”[3]
And a rock can feel no pain And an island never cries.”[3]
The systemic problem in our modern
Protestant Christianity is that we have created a church-going consumer that
expects value and reward from membership. This people-pleasing, consumer-driven
mentality goes against the high call of God that should be a life of faith
worth dying for. This Western view of church membership is like our Western
view on marriage; which is looked on as though we have entered into a pleasure
contract. So it shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone in this culture of brokenness
that for many church-going people, their relationships with other church-goers
is considered disposable, just as our spouses are in marriage. We say all kinds
of words laced with sacred meaning at the altar for example, “In riches and
poverty, in sickness and health until death do us part” …and yet, at the first
significant difficulty many pull the parachute and bail out.
We are in a culture of disposable
relationships, and this “me-first” attitude is part of our fickle
“church-hopping” mindset. When things get hard or tough – or when people rub me
the wrong way or when my issues get confronted and exposes something in me that
I don’t want you to see, then it is more comfortable to run than stick it out. Yet God desires that we work through the very
thing that He intended to use in conforming me to the image of His Son.
We were not created to stand alone as an
island, apart from laughter, love, pain and tears. “An island never cries.”
[excerpt from my book Dead Reckoning: The Divine Invasion. To be continued: in part 2 "Productive Agitation"
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