Diapers In The Road (Part 2)
Seeing these diapers scattered all over the road behind the grocery store launched an entire story in my mind. I have no way of knowing whether it was a “true story” or not, but that was not the point. Something was happening on the inside of me and the destroyed diaper box was only the sign pointing the way to the journey that I’m on. Discovering how compassion links us to the work of the Spirit around us and through us.
I felt almost sick over this scene in the road and prayed for God to “do something.” I did not have anything specific in mind, but I knew there was nothing I could do… I couldn’t pick up the diapers and deliver them to the person who lost them. Bringing them back inside the grocery store wouldn’t do any good. Compassion for the person who lost them was mixing with the grief of being so incapable to do something about it. But why do I feel this way? Why is that I don’t consider praying about things like this as the “something” I’m supposed to do?
Have you ever noticed how most of our prayers (or maybe it’s just most of mine) are totally self-centered? I can remember several years ago feeling like a girl that I worked with at the time was struggling in some way and being gripped by this same compassion. I prayed all day but never once for her. I prayed for myself, asking God to equip me; give me the right words to say; open the right opportunity for me to talk to her; open her heart to receive what I had to say… blah, blah, blah - me, me, me.
This was the trap I was falling in again. Compassion was churning within me and my reaction was to feel helpless because there was nothing for me to do about it. This story of the diapers got really interesting almost two months later. We were at my parents’ house and I overheard my mom talking to my wife about something that had just happened to her that day. We were living with my parents at the time and the story my mom was telling was one of those no-big-deal-just-sharing-my-day kind of stories.
My mom was telling Sheryl about coming out of a store and seeing a lady in the parking lot pushing her cart back into those outdoor cart stalls. My mom noticed a big box of diapers still in the bottom of the cart and rushed across the lot to the lady. She stopped her and asked, “Are those your diapers in the cart?” Of course they were and this woman was very grateful to the stranger who stopped her from driving off without them. As I overheard this little story, a quick thought went off in my heart:
“See? That’s how it works.”
At the end of Matthew 9, Jesus tries to get his disciples seeing things through the same compassionate lens as he was. He tells the disciples to look upon the people as weary and scattered, like sheep that don’t have anyone to watch over them. Just after calling upon their compassion, he directs them to, “pray to the Lord of the harvest, asking him to send out laborers into the field.” If you speak Christianese, “harvest” means sinners who need to be saved - “the world” - “the lost.” But let’s stop limiting Jesus’ words by that meaning. Jesus was just talking about people, specifically the people around him at the time.
I was moved with compassion by the diapers in the road because he was moved with compassion. The response that Jesus wants from that exchange of compassion is to pray that laborers - other people - be sent to care for that need and watch over those involved. Hopefully, I’m communicating the significance of this realization because it has truly changed my ideals about making disciples and starting a church in NWI. I’m not interested in starting a bunch of “ministries” in an attempt to make shotgun blasts at the needs in this area. I want to equip people to get engaged in the mission Jesus has them on. But how? What does that mean?
It is certainly a growing and evolving thing, but the disciple making process really begins by helping people spot the diapers that are scattered across the roads they travel. There are ways in which we can increase our sensitivity to the signs all around us. We can become better listeners to the voice of Jesus, urging us to see through his compassionate lens. Then, we just ask him to put laborers in place to watch over those needs and care for those people. In many cases, we’ll never even get to know how he answers those prayers, but my mom stopping a lady from driving home without her diapers give me the faith that he does answer them.
This is certainly not the end of anything. I think it’s just the beginning of the beginning, but it is something I’m very excited to be part of. Can you imagine how much things can change when we stop trying to manage and maintain the work of the Spirit? Just let him go, Scott! He’s good at this stuff and he’s been doing it a lot longer than you have.
Diapers In The Road (Part 1)
A few months ago I was on my way to the grocery store and spotted something in the middle of the road. As I approached, it became clear that a large box of Huggies had fallen from some one’s car and landed in the street. The box looked as though it had been hit a few times because diapers were scattered and the box was smashed and destroyed. Something about this scene moved me - deeply.
I could put a whole story together around this dirty, smashed mess of diapers. With two kids in diapers right now, I understand how important they are. When you go to the store to buy diapers it is because YOU NEED diapers. And they’re not cheap. When my wife goes to the store, she has four little kids with her. Each one demands 100% percent of her physical and emotional attention. Do that math - that keeps moms spread awfully thin.
She’s always carrying at least one - often two and trying to keep tabs on the bigger ones as they navigate the busy parking lot. Then think about inside the store… everyone grabbing at things and asking for things. The two year old screaming because he wanted the cart with the plastic truck attached. The baby chewing on the part where everyone in the universe has placed their sweaty, filthy hands. Moms are good at managing this stuff through repeated practice. It takes a lot to really wear down and wear out a mom, but the grocery store provides all the right stressors to do it.
Can’t you imagine that her mind is on a million things at once as she opens the lift gate and fills up the back? The diaper box goes on the roof while she wrangles the kids and in the chaos, never makes it into the van.
The diapers ride on the roof of the van for a little while. Slowly driving through the parking lots, other people notice the diapers on her roof and nudge one another. They giggle to each other at the silly lady who doesn’t realize she’s got a big box on the top of her minivan. As she accelerates to get onto the road and get home, the diapers tumble off the roof and hit the pavement behind her. If she noticed right now, she might be able to pull over, jump out and rescue them but there is too much going on in the van and there is way too much on her mind. She drives on.
At home the mission of unloading begins. Think about the mix of painful emotions as she searches the van for the diapers. Where are the diapers? The most important thing she went to the store for is not here. I can vividly empathize with the horror and the helplessness of that moment of realization. All of this flashed upon my heart in the seconds it took me to pass the evidence of this drama, spilled across the road. I could feel the agony in my own body - my guts churned as compassion for this anonymous person swelled within me.
I prayed as I drove, asking God to put a stop to this kind of senseless loss. “Intervene,” I pleaded. As I prayed, helplessness was beginning to wash over me as well. It’s too late. I can’t pick up these diapers - I’d never be able to find the person that lost them. There is nothing for anyone to do to help. All I could think to pray was that the Lord would not allow these things to happen around me. Don’t let me pass the person with the diapers on the roof of the minivan without getting her attention.
These prayers were from my heart and voiced through tears of both compassion and rage at the idea that these lost diapers were some sort of enemy victory.
Are you in touch with the pain of others? Do you notice the evidence of their loss? Maybe it’s not diapers that would get your attention, but is there something? I’m trying to become more sensitive to the compassionate heart of Jesus. I want to see what he sees and I want to feel what he feels when he looks over the people who live where I live.
This story of the diapers is one of the rare ones in my life because it has a resolution. I will share the rest of the story in another part. It was an amazing revelation of how connected we are and how the Spirit partners with us when we allow ourselves to be moved with compassion and bear the burdens of others.
The End of the Story (Part 5)
Although I really hope that my actual story isn’t over, this installment does mark the end of my chronicling. I have so much enjoyed reading my friend’s story (the one who was the inspiration for this series) so I hope this has been mildly entertaining for those that read from this site.
Many of you know what happened at the point in which I left off in Part 4. That’s when we met. I started my “official” ministry career at a non-denominational church in Northwest Indiana after college. The experience of being on a church staff and figuring out what it means to be a “pastor” was an amazing one. The first realization I remember having took place during my internship but was really driven home as I settled into my new full-time role. A lot of people work very, very hard to put on the life and programs of a big church. None of them get paid very well to do it and most of them never get financially compensated at all. I’m not saying anything startling here, am I? But this place in the story causes me to think about how much of that hard work was really worth doing… how much of it was the fruit that Jesus commissioned his disciples to go and bear in John 15?
There were six rich, wonderful years of experience for me in that first stop along my ministerial path. I was involved in nearly every single thing that church did over that time period and I made relationships that continue to shape and change my life today. The next place I ended up gave birth to the call we’re sensing and pursing right now. It was a place of undoing and unlearning in many ways. We went from the stability of our own house with a great backyard and steady paycheck each month to the complete unknown. A brand new city with no one nearby that we really knew and no idea how our bills were going to get paid. Then, just as we started to carve out some solid footing in this new place, we moved again. Into more uncertainty and more instability.
I’ve written before about being involved in a church plant in Florida. Its relevance to this story is that when we first arrived in Tampa, I thought that was “it.” We were finally “there.” We were at THE place the Lord had been preparing us for. That’s what I thought. I was on this team of church planters and was getting to do exactly what I thought I always wanted to do. Church planting was in my heart and mind since college. Everything I’d heard and seen about it intrigued me, but I always thought, “there must be a better way.” That’s what were doing in Tampa - the “better” way. At first, I loved it. As far as the team goes, I and one other guy were the men on the ground. For a month or so we had our fill of helping with the small groups, meeting new people and dreaming about what this new church would be like. I can hardly describe what started happening on the inside of me as that church planting process developed.
It still was everything I thought I wanted to do. Five months after we arrived in FL and had put on our first Sunday AM meeting, I knew it was nothing I ever wanted to do again. I can’t do something that is built around getting people to attend Sunday morning meetings. I won’t be any happier if you move them to a bar and start having them on Saturday nights. I had an email exchange with a friend that continues to serve on that church planting team in Tampa and things are still clipping along. No doubt, people have been and will continue to be touched and reached through that church. There are a few things that I came away knowing for certain, and I am now dedicated to exploring what they mean and how they function:
- Jesus is the Shepherd and he doesn’t want any help
- People can and need to hear God speak to them directly, not through another person
- You can be an outstanding member of an American church and never a follower of Jesus
- We have seen only the quickest glimpses of what God intends to do through a community of Jesus’ followers
- Discipleship does not happen unless it is directly connected to personal relationships and the mission of following Jesus
The list could go on but this will probably keep me plenty busy for the next several decades.
Back to the Story (Part 4)
Sorry for the long hiatus! I guess anyone who looks at this site is used to the lapses, though I do have a good excuse this time. After 5 months, we have finally moved into our own home. Many, many thanks to my parents who took us in (all six of us!) and never made us feel like we were intruding.
I’m going to jump ahead in time from the previous post and my childhood church experiences. Things got much more “conventional” for us as church goers in my preteen and teenage years. I went to Bible college after high school and started trying to figured out what I was “called to do.” That was a regular thing to hear around my school - “called.” It seemed like everyone already knew what he was called to do. Not long after you would meet someone, he would tell you, “I’m called to be a missionary.” Or, “I’m called to be an evangelist.” Honest to God, there were girls that would say, “I’m called to be a pastor’s wife.” We said those girls were just enrolled to get their “M-R-S” degree.
My “calling” seemed to be everything and nothing all at once. At first I had the idea that I would start out being a youth pastor and eventually be an associate pastor and then maybe a senior pastor when my hair started to get gray around the edges and my college pants didn’t fit anymore. I had a great friend and mentor break me of that way of thinking early on though. He didn’t look at ministry as a “career path” in that way. He had no interest in being a youth pastor unless he felt actual passion for teenagers (what an amazing idea!). Altar services became my route to discovering my calling. During my freshman year, I answered the altar call no matter what it was for! If we had a missionary from India speak in chapel and ask for people to come down front who felt called to India, I would rush down there. I’d be balling my eyes out and crying out to God, “Yes, Lord - send me to India.” Then the next day, we’d have a guy talking about his ministry to inner city Philadelphia. Same thing - he gives an altar call - I come running down front with tears streaming down my face.
Eventually I realized that I couldn’t possibly be “called” to all these different places at once. I came with such a limited idea of ministry service. I had my own home church as a pattern for how stuff works but not much else. In college, I was hearing all these other ways that God was using people as ambassadors of his kingdom. My heart was being broken with the pain of other people. After I’d hear the stories of India’s orphans or the wreckage of urban wastelands in my own country, I would immediately want to help. “How can I not do something about this!” I would always think.
The worst thing that ever happened to me, in terms of learning to sense a calling, was to get desensitized to those stories of brokenness and pain. Even a Bible college freshman can’t keep up that zeal and fervor forever, I guess. I got used to hearing how bad other people had it started thinking more about myself. I’m not saying that I actually should have gone to India, or that I “missed God” by not doing more inner city work. My heart should have never left that fragile spot with the Holy Spirit. He had me right where he wanted me. But I missed the lesson because I stopped believing that those tears and that willingness was doing me any good.
Calling is not about what you are going to do for God. I’m sorry. It just isn’t. Calling isn’t about you. It’s about the pain of others. When Ephesians 4 says, “Walk worthy of the calling wherewith you were called,” it is saying: Be responsible for the burdens of the people around you. Read the rest of chapter 4. That’s what it’s all about. That’s where ministry comes from. I like the way Galatians 6 states it. “Bear the burdens of other people and you will be fulfilling the law of Jesus Christ.”
I think I’m just now getting to know some of what it means to have a calling.
Story (Part 3)
Despite his own charismatic experiences and beliefs, my dad was never into the charis-maniac church I described in part 2. We didn’t stay there all that long. Leaving church may have had the greatest spiritual impact on my life, now that I look back on it.
As a quick side note to this story, I think the Lord is encouraging people to become “self-feeders” in these days. I’m not suggesting that people need to just leave their churches, but I don’t think the church should be relied upon as the “feeding place.” If it is, something needs to change. We learned as a family what it meant to self-feed during those years. I know my parents will say that they were not as diligent as they “should have been.” But the memories of the things we did without any church leadership or inspiration stand out to me more than almost every other religious meeting I was part of.
I remember a few times of family communion. We had grape juice in Styrofoam cups and Saltines. I can remember listening intently to my dad praying. My mom always cried, which made me feel like this whole thing was very real indeed. Why else would she be so affected? We never used a devotional book that I can remember. My dad would just read from the Bible or sometimes tell us a story about something the Lord told him in the past. The most memorable thing to me was that although I was about 10 or 11 years old, my parents would often ask if I or one of my brothers had “heard anything from the Lord” while we were praying. Us. The kids. I got to hear my brothers talking about the things they thought God was speaking to them. Do you know what that does to a kid to get the encouragement of his parents to hear directly from God and the support His brothers to boldly speak it out?
This is what I mean by being a self-feeder. Hear from God on your own. Spend time with Him expecting to be His sheep and hear His voice. And then share the things He whispers in your ear with the other people in your life.
We didn’t do this every week. It wasn’t “church at home;” it didn’t happen on Sundays. I can’t recall any specific pattern to these times of intimacy and fellowship. They happened when they happened, and they occurred as a piece of our real life together. Eventually we found another church to be a part of, but my faith and my attendance at religious meetings had been forever dislodged from one another. They were no longer the same thing. Some people wait a lifetime for that to happen.
To some people it never does happen.
Story (Part 2)
My next church experience was certainly of the charismatic persuasion. There was plenty of the “wild stuff,” and I remember being a little shocked by it at first - even though so much of the charismatic experience was already pretty normal for me. One time, my brothers and I brought some friends to see a special guest. A lady in front of us started gettin’ jiggy with it and my friend Shawn’s eyes almost fell out of his head. He’d definitely never seen anything like that before. It might have been his first time in church of any kind.
Once again, the people that I knew at that church were absolutely sincere and authentic in what they did (as far as I ever knew). What bothers me as I look back on it is the showmanship that came from the platform. You never knew what you were going to see from one week to the next. A particularly memorable one was when the entire stage was transformed into a boxing ring and the pastor came out in boxing shorts, boots and gloves. If that sounds cool in any sense, you’re picturing it wrong. Think of a pastey-white, Donald Trump-looking guy bouncing around on stage. Not good.
But here’s something interesting about that church and that phase of my own spiritual development:
I experienced what I look back on as a “call to ministry” during one of the more ordinary sermons at that church. I distinctly recall looking up on stage and thinking, “That’s what I’m going to do for the rest of my life.” Clearly God used that place to plant something within me. Even then, I didn’t have any desire to be the showman I was seeing every week. It was something else. I just started noticing things when I was at that church.
I remember an old lady that we sat near most weeks. She had one arm that was pinched up tight to her body and sort of twisted and very little use to her, I’m sure. Every time I saw her, I would pray for her healing. The whole showboat altar call thing that usually happened bothered me, even though as a kid I couldn’t put a finger on why. My prayers for this lady were always along the lines of, “Lord heal her all by yourself and don’t let anyone know that I was praying for her.” Because I believed (believe) those prayers so heartily, this might be the first time I’ve ever mentioned this.
Even way back then, I was starving for something authentic. I wanted to see God do something because he was God! Not because the guy with the microphone “commanded it.”
Don’t you think most of the people in “those” churches are like me? They believe with all their heart that God’s power is real. He does heal. He does perform signs, wonders and miracles. And if you want to be in a church that believes those things too, well there’s an awful lot of other stuff that seems to go with it. I can’t do “either / or” any longer. I’m not going to put up with the pomp and the puff, but I’m also not going to give up on the miraculous.
That’s not what all of this story is going to be about, but that is the first part anyway.
Story (Part 1)
Having recently been inspired by a friend who writes on his site much more diligently than I do, I’m going to write about my story out of conventional church and into whatever it is we’re doing now. This is something I would never ordinarily do. My inner voice would say, “No one wants to read about that, you dork,” but my friend had people chomping at the bit for the next installment of his story. It is entirely possible that this guy is just far more interesting than me, and my version will totally flop. But just in case it really can speak to someone, here goes:
I’m not sure if my parents will agree with this or not, but I think my childhood church experiences have significantly shaped where I am now. We didn’t make any efforts to be “unconventional” (that I know of), but I think that’s what we were. My earliest church memory is being part of a church plant. Just us and a few other families gathering in a home. I remember prayer meetings and Bible studies and laying on the floor and drawing pictures while the preacher (I called him “Pastor Billity”) was doing his thing. For a long time, there was no children’s ministry. There was just me and my brothers and the pastor’s 4 kids having a grand ole time while the adults did church.
Eventually that church plant got a building of their own and we started getting organized. To this day, I’m not sure why we left that church - or if it just closed - or what, but when I was about 8 years old, something life-changing occurred. There was an altar call for people who wanted to get “filled with the Spirit.” My mom asked me if I wanted to go down to be prayed for. “What is it?” I asked. “It’s a gift from God,” is all I can remember her telling me. What 8 year old doesn’t like to get gifts? I went.
Pastor Billity came by and prayed for me (don’t remember at all what he said) and then leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Did you get it?” Well, of course I did - you prayed didn’t you! I nodded my head that I did. “Do you want to do it into the microphone?” He asked. I swear that I had no idea what he was talking about. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, but one thing I did know for sure - I absolutely did want to do it into the microphone!
He pulled off his lapel mic and pointed it toward me. As God is my witness, I opened my mouth to talk and an entirely new language came pouring out. It’s not like something “happened” to me that I was not able to control. It wasn’t “possession,” but it was definitely not just me making stuff up either. I know today that the Holy Spirit was empowering me and “giving me utterance” similar to the way He did it to followers of Jesus throughout the book of Acts.
When I “did it” into the microphone, the church just blew up. I remember people shouting and throwing their hands up. The band kicked in and I recall being part of a trane of people celebrating around the perimeter of the sanctuary. It was an entirely “charismatic” experience - the kind of thing I would roll my eyes at and change the channel on if I happened upon it today.
But why would I?
I have not a single doubt about the authenticity of my “charismatic experience.” The gift of that prayer language I received that day never faded, but actually took root and branched out. It was the anchor that held my faith together during my teenage years. So why do I bristle inside when I see “that stuff” going on today? Why do I instantly question the sincerity and authenticity of so many charismatic experiences (even if I never doubt the sincerity of those people engaged in it)?
Did something change? I’m sure that something did change. But that change will be part 2 of the story.
To be continued…
Out In The Middle
The following article is my submission as the brand new editor of the Next-Wave ezine. “Humbling” does not begin to describe my feelings about this opportunity to serve as editor. I know the story behind Next-Wave because my dear friend and mentor, Charlie Wear, told me all about it. I know that Charlie has been plowing this field long before anyone was using words like “emerging” and “missional.” His passion for whatever God is doing to gather a generation disenchanted by church and religious culture to his kingdom is something that I am continuously inspired by.
Charlie is one of the only people that really “gets me” when I talk about what I’m hearing from the Spirit and how I’m trying to follow his lead. In the mission that my wife and I are on right now, laying the foundation for what might be a church in Northwest Indiana, it’s Charlie’s counsel that I seek. Mostly because I know he’s going to force me back to the Lord. “Listen to God. He’ll talk to you,” he says.
To me, that’s what Next-Wave is about. That’s what comes out through so many different voices, every month. I catch a whisper from the voice of the Spirit with every issue. This is my goal as editor - to continue to listen to God and let him do all the talking through Next-Wave.
Church as I have known it (American, cultural Christianity) is no longer serving God’s purpose of intimacy and relationship. So that’s why the conversation that goes on here is so important. It may have been ordained and sanctioned by God and maybe it was serving His purpose at one time. I do not believe it has the ability to go on serving Him in the future. The next wave or “new wine” that He is bringing into the fold of His kingdom needs a new wineskin.
In Isaiah Chapter 1, God speaks through that prophet to condemn the religious practices of the Jews of that day. What suddenly occurred to me while reading the chapter is that God was not dealing with idol worship. He was talking about the religious system inherited from Moses. The system he once allowed had lost all of its original meaning.
They were going through all the correct motions but it was not serving the purpose of drawing them into relationship with him. The challenge was to surrender their notions of serving God and accept the “new thing” he was trying to give birth to within them. God seems to force this type of confrontation in several places throughout Scripture. Another encounter I think of is found in Mark 6, when Jesus sends his followers away in the boat while he stays on land to pray. The gospel makes a special point of telling us that the storm blew up when they were “in the middle” of the sea. They were too far to turn back and not far enough for the safety of shore on the other side. In this journey out of conventional church, I’ve often felt out in the middle with nothing to grab onto at either side. It’s pretty scary even when I remember it was Jesus who told me to take this trip in the first place.
Jesus does something wild and dramatic to come to the aid of his friends. He walks on the waves and then quiets the storm with his presence in the boat. I think he’s ready to do these things again. I think he is glad that we’ve gotten ourselves out here in the middle, with no more props to cling to and no more comfortable “normal” to soothe ourselves with. I thinks he’s on the water now and heading toward people all over the world who have followed his call into rough seas.
© Andrzej Dro?d?a | Dreamstime.com
So how can we go about building this new wineskin idea of service and worship? God gives us some great direction in Isaiah chapter 1:Verse 18a - “Come now, and let us reason together…” One translation says, “I, the LORD, invite you to come and talk it over.”Think about your intimacy and relationship with God in these terms. If all the props of church were removed, would there be anything left? Have you had that encounter yet? Are you too far from shore to turn back, but not close enough to the other side to be certain that you’ll make it?
What if He did away with the praise and worship band and all the external stimulants? Would you still find ways to worship? What if there were no more children’s programs or church ministries to kids? Would you still find ways to lead your children (or any children) to be disciples of Jesus? If God eliminated all the missions programs and “outreach” initiatives, would you still find ways for the Gospel to be advanced through your life? If there was no more church to receive your tithe, would you still be a fountain of giving and generosity?
What if God really is finished with our systems of service and worship, like He was expressing in the days of Isaiah? What if His soul hates them (Isaiah 1:14)? Are we ready to leave it behind and find other ways to serve His purpose of intimacy and relationship? Again, I see direction coming from Isaiah the prophet:
Verse 17 - “Learn to do good; seek justice, rebuke the oppressor; defend the fatherless, plead for the widow.”That is the mission and all these centuries later, it still needs doing.
I’m thrilled to be part of this Next-Wave community. I love the risks that are taken here and the passion that is expressed here. Next-Wave People really wear it on their sleeve. You can feel it in the comments and emotions ebbs through each article. But I’m most excited just to be included somewhere in the story that our Lord is writing.
But For Now, Here’s Something
Man! I am embarrassed by how little I have been writing on this site. I have a lot of good excuses though. Here’s the biggest one: I work on the computer all day long and as soon as I’m ready to stop working for the day, I shut the laptop and don’t really want to look at it again. But I do promise to get better.
Here’s something I read recently from my good friend and coach, Charlie:
The First Commandment of Jesus
This is really good, thoughtful stuff. I appreciate Charlie’s heart for following Jesus so much. There is barely a person I know with a bigger heart and a greater desire to see the generations behind him truly following Jesus. Charlie’s got nothing to gain from it - no organization to grow - no personal ministry to market and develop - He just wants to see people free from religious bondage and following Jesus with all their heart. I can get along with a guy like that.
I Agree
If you would have asked me if I am into John Eldredge, I would probably have said, “Not really.” I might still say that, but my wife is in a book club that is reading his book, Waking the Dead, and I have been reading along with her. The title is interesting to me because it is exactly what I sense God calling us to do. I felt like He clarified this for me through Ezekiel and the dry bones. If we are going to have a church within my generation and those behind me, they are going to have to be resurrected from the dead. There is no congregation in waiting - just wanting the right pastor to come along and lead them and teach them and start programs for them. They’ve already been to church and seen it at it’s best and worst and have decided they don’t want it.
So I was intrigued… I wanted to see how he interpreted this call to raise the dead. Honestly, the book is pretty good. Even when I don’t really agree with the way he gets there, I usually agree with main points in the book. In one of the last chapters he writes:
God is calling together little communities of the heart, to fight for one another and for the hearts of those who have not yet been set free. That camaraderie, that intimacy, that incredible impact by a few stouthearted souls - that is available. It is the Christian life as Jesus gave it to us. It is completely normal (Eldredge. Chapter 11).
I’ve been saying this same thing - life is lived in smaller circles. We cannot possibly live out the Christian life in the large circle of the congregation and its programs. Even when (and if) that larger circle becomes a necessary tool in the disciple-making process, it cannot be allowed to be the circle in which we live.
Jesus seems to have brought His disciples along in this way. He kept them close to Him in relationship and continually equipped them to think differently about the kingdom He was establishing. Then He sent them out to be givers of that kingdom and “equippers” of others, even when He knew they didn’t fully understand it themselves.
I’ve got so much to stay about all this. The foundation of our church plant here in Northwest Indiana is all about this concept of living life on smaller circles. I’m going to try to write more regularly about all this in order to put some expression to all these ideas.
