On Saturday morning, I got up at 5:15 am to start the laundry. Here’s the thing – the day before I had asked my kids to clean up their rooms, which led to a mile high pile of both clean and dirty clothes in the hamper. Naturally, the clean was not discernable from the dirty (the one winter coat in the middle of June was a dead giveaway) so I decided to just wash it all.
I sat down to fold, and turned on the TV. Since I don’t like my kids to watch some of the stuff I watch, (begs the question: why am I watching things I wouldn’t want my children to see?) I often DVR more grown up shows. One such show is Without A Trace, an FBI drama where people seem to vanish into thin air and become missing persons.
I had 5 episodes saved, and I started with the earliest while I loaded and folded.
After 4 straight episodes, I remembered that I didn’t have any breakfast food in the fridge but I had a bunch of kids sleeping over with mine in the family room. I headed to the supermarket.
In the parking lot, I experienced the craziest paranoia. I viewed other shoppers cautiously, the cart collector guy took on a suspicious hue, and the sight of one particular late model leisure van had me convinced I was about to be abducted. In other words, after filling my head with danger and fear, it was what I experienced – even in a perfectly familiar situation and place.
After laughing at myself, I considered how true it is that what we spend our time doing, the people we choose to hear, and the places we regularly visit have a profound effect on who we become. Basically, we are what we eat.
Ah, but here’s the rub. I think that sometimes Christians think that God asked us to all huddle together in a church in an effort to stay safe – or at least near the stuff that is good. If I spend all my time here, then I will not be affected by less than desirable influences, right?
A great exercise is to ask yourself to name the top 10 people you hang around with. Are they all associated with the church? You may think you are in a perfectly familiar situation and place – but I sense danger.
If the church huddles indoors, the hands and feet of God will not go where they are needed and the gospel will be left without a trace. Christians become missing persons and I don’t think that is what Jesus most wanted.
2 comments:
I'm not sure I agree with you, but it’s because it’s unclear to me what you mean by "the church."
If you're referring to the local congregation, I think I’d say it depends on the congregation. Our church includes single mothers, families in public housing, people in homeless shelters, widows, cancer survivors, stroke survivors, divorce survivors, recovering addicts, active addicts and a few true, blue lifelong Nazarenes. For all these people, the church is a lifeline. They genuinely want to be around something good, because their lives have seen wholesale debasement of what is good at a number of levels. Do their needs or their lives somehow become invalid once they take on the name of Christ?
Alternatively, if you’re referring to the church universal (i.e., all those who call upon the name of Christ) it’s even more problematic, since that include everyone from the Pope to the North Korean Christians to the homeless guys around my office. Most of the homeless guys I come in contact with in and around the St. Anthony shrine have a deep sense of God and many of them hold me and Sue up in prayer on a regular basis. They’re part of the church as much as I am (probably more so). Again, their lives and needs aren’t intrinsically inferior to those of nonbelievers.
But if you’re referring to some suburban, Willow Creek clone-church, filled with worshiptrons who decamp from their SUVs once a week to pray to a power-point presentation, I’m with you.
p.s. feeling snarly today.
Sean said, "But if you’re referring to some suburban, Willow Creek clone-church, filled with worshiptrons who decamp from their SUVs once a week to pray to a power-point presentation, I’m with you."
Excellent description.
Post a Comment