Jesus Came to Show Us the Way, Not Give Us a Show

For most of my life I have had to tiptoe through a mine field known as Sunday morning worship. My mother and my sisters and I all sang in the church choir. Since I was a fairly good boy soprano, I was invited to join the adult choir when I was only 10 years old. At first that seemed like a high honor, but the luster of that honor began to fade when I realized that singing in the adult choir meant that I had to sit up straight and pretend to listen to the sermon. Yawning, talking and reading comic books were all forbidden. Sleeping was completely out of the question, except for my Dad who sat in a pew close to the front of the sanctuary with his back to the rest of the congregation. Only those of us in the choir loft could see that Dad's eyes were closed. One of my more painful childhood memories was the fear that my Dad would fall asleep and start snoring. The fear of Dad snoring, right there in front of God and everybody, caused me to pray with a sense of urgency that no 10 year old should have to pray with. Every Sunday Dad's head would begin to bob forward, but thanks to my fervent prayers, he never fell into a deep sleep. God answers prayer. Thanks be to God!

As a child, it didn't take long to figure out that worship was a staged performance for the benefit and enjoyment of the spectators in the pews. It honestly never occured to me that worship had much to do with God. It was something that musicians, liturgists and preachers did for the benefit of the congregation. Because of that, the worship experience must appeal to the tastes and earn the approval of the worshippers. This thinking was confirmed when I was a music major in college and took a job as the choir director of a large church in the suburbs of Philadelphia. One Sunday I brought the choir out of the choir loft and placed the singers around the sanctuary. I thought it was pretty cool until the music and worship committee reprimanded me and warned me to never try anything like that again. I foolishly defended my actions by saying, "I don't think Jesus would have minded." Bringing Jesus into the discussion infuriated the chairperson of the committee whose reply was swift and to the point, "Well mister, Jesus doesn't sign your pay checks." My thanks to Matt Redman for reminding us that worship isn't about us, it is all about Jesus. His song, The Heart of Worship challenges us to move beyond the mere repetition of rituals and invites us to press into the heart of Jesus. That is what's at The Heart of Worship:

When the music fades and all is stripped away

And I simply come

Longing just to bring

something that's of worth

That will bless Your heart

I'll bring You more than a song

For a song in itself

Is not what You have required

You search much deeper within

Through the way things appear

You're looking into my heart

I'm coming back to the heart of worship

And it's all about You All about You, Jesus

I'm sorry, Lord, for the things I've made it

When it's all about You

All about You, Jesus

Woven together in Christ... In his book, Waking the Dead: The Glory of a Heart Full Alive, John Eldredge includes a chapter on the importance of authentic, intimate community. Here is an excerpt from chapter 11 which he entitles Fellowships of the Heart. I've also created a link to chapter 11 in its entirety. Enjoy! -- Bob

(Excerpt from Waking the Dead... Fellowships of the Heart)
When he left Rivendell, Frodo didn’t head out with a thousand Elves. He had eight companions. Jesus didn’t march around backed by legions of angels, either. He had twelve men – knuckleheads, every last one of them, but they were a band of brothers. This is the way of the kingdom of God. Though we are part of a great company, we are meant to live in little platoons. The little companies we form must be small enough for each of the members to know one another as friends and allies. Is it possible for five thousand people who gather for an hour on a Sunday morning to know each other? Okay, how about five hundred? One hundred and eighty? It can’t be done. They can’t possibly be intimate allies. It might be fun and encouraging to celebrate with a big crowd of people, but who will fight for your heart?

Who will fight for your heart?

How can we offer the stream of counseling to one another, unless we actually know one another, know each other’s stories? The reason counseling became a hired relationship between two people was largely because we couldn’t find it anywhere else; we haven’t formed the sort of small fellowships that would allow the stream to flow quite naturally. Is it possible to offer rich and penetrating words to someone you barely know, in the lobby of your church, as you dash to pick up the kids? And what about warfare? Would you feel comfortable turning to the person in the pew next to you, and, as you pass the offering plate, ask them to bind a demon that is sitting on your head?

Where will you find the Four Streams?

The Four Streams are something we learn, and grow into, and offer one another, within a small fellowship. We hear each other’s stories. We discover each other’s glories. We learn to walk with God together. We pray for each other’s healing. We cover each other’s back. This small core fellowship is the essential ingredient for the Christian life. Jesus modeled it for us for a reason. Sure, he spoke to the masses. But he lived in a little platoon, a small fellowship of friends and allies. His followers took his example and lived this way, too. “They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts” (2:46). “Aquila and Priscilla greet you warmly in the Lord, and so does the church that meets at their house” (1 Cor 16:19). “Give my greetings to the brothers at Laodicea, and to Nympha and the church in her house” (Col 4:15).

Church is not a building. Church is not an event that takes place on Sundays. I know, its how we think of it. “I go to First Baptist.” “We are members of St. Luke’s.” “Is it time to go to church?” Much to our surprise, that is not how the Bible uses the term. Not at all. When the Scripture talks about church, it means community. The little fellowships of the heart that are outposts of the kingdom. A shared life. They worship together, eat together, pray for one another, go on quests together. They hang out together, in each other’s homes. When Peter is sprung from prison, “he went to the house of Mary the mother of John…where many people had gathered and were praying” (Acts 12:12).

Anytime an army goes to war or an expedition takes to the field, it breaks down into little platoons and squads. And every chronicle of war or quest will tell you that the men and women who fought so bravely fought for each other. That’s where the acts of heroism and sacrifice take place, because that’s where the devotion is. You simply can’t be devoted to a mass of people; devotion takes place in small units, just like a family. How is it that we have come to be warehoused in Sunday services with people we do not really know, for an hour a week, separated the rest of our days of real living, and call that church? You might have a guess who pulled that off on us.

We have stopped short of being an organization; we are an organism instead, a living and spontaneous association of individuals who know one another intimately, care for each other deeply, and feel a kind of respect for one another that makes rules and bylaws unnecessary. A group is the right size, I would guess, when each member can pray for every other member, individually and by name.

This is the wisdom of Brother Andrew, who smuggled Bibles into communist countries for decades. It’s the model, frankly, of the church in nearly every country but the U.S. Now, I’m not suggesting you don’t do whatever it is you do on Sunday mornings. I’m simply helping you accept reality – that whatever else you do, you must have a small fellowship to walk with you and fight with you and bandage your wounds. Remember: The path is narrow, and few find it. Few means small in number, as opposed to, say, massive. This is essential. This is what the Scriptures urge us to do. First. Foremost. Not as an addition to Sunday. Before anything else.

Here is the link to the entire chapter.

Our Quest for Authentic

Community

"Two people can accomplish more than twice as much as one; they get a better return for their labor. If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. But people who are alone when they fall are in real trouble. And on a cold night, two under the same blanket can gain warmth from each other. But how can one be warm alone? A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken." -- Ecclesiastes 4:9-12
Several years ago the Gallup Poll organization asked Americans to reveal their greatest problem. Their answer might seem surprising: Our #1 problem is loneliness! How can that be? With cell phones, wireless Internet, chat rooms, My Space, You Tube and any number of other communication resources, you would think we are the least lonely, most connected society in civilization. Here's the problem... an experience of authentic community involves more than the sharing of information. Community isn't created by shared information but by making a heart connection with living, breathing people. Most of us aren't looking for an organization to join... most of us are searching for an organism to be joined to... "a living and spontaneous association of individuals who know one another intimately, care for each other deeply, and feel a kind of respect for one another that makes rules and bylaws unnecessary," (Brother Andrew). Be honest. Don't you long to be joined to a living, loving, healing, helping, giving, growing organism? It is possible wherever two or three of us gather in Jesus' name. -- Bob