Monthly Archives: February 2010

“Jesus looked at him and loved him.” – Mark 10:21

This little phrase captures what I am trying to become.

I want the love that naturally welled up in Jesus when he looked at this young man to be what happens in me when I look at anyone. And I want this to be as observable in me as it apparently was for Jesus by Mark (or Peter, who some think was behind the writing of Mark). And I want this to happen no matter my disposition, condition, or mood. I want it to happen no matter my previous experiences, either with the the person I’m looking at or with others that they remind me of.

Let it be said that whenever I with anyone that “Brian looked at him and loved him.”

I know I’m asking a lot.

I think a lot about becoming like Christ. The idea dominates most of my waking hours.  It’s the goal of my life. It’s the joy of my life. It is the guide of my life, the call of my life, and I might even say it (or more accurately, he) is the source of my life.

There are some who believe it is also the curse of my life.

Think about it…Who can attain to this? How unrealistic is it? How often must I experience failure with such a  high standard?

And when do you get a break from this work? At what moment of which day is there a time when you can “switch off” the work of being like Christ? When I’m with my closest friends? With my wife? With my kids? Alone with God?

I confess I’ve done all those. I’ve “given myself permission” to “be honest about how I feel towards someone” or “about something” and let it all hang out there. There is something liberating about it, to be sure. To have a safe place in which I can show my ugly, offended, small, vengeful, angry, “I-have-rights-and-I-deserve-to-have-them” self. I’ll tell you that on the days that I feel the need to do that, it always turns out best to do it with God. My kids should never have to handle that. My wife can sometimes, but that is understandably confusing for her. I have some friends that have an easier time handling it, mostly because they can go home and don’t have to live with me. So, of all of those options, God seems to be the one that can handle me best, as He remains unchanged and unfazed by my raw, fragmented, unperfected self.

Which, as it turns out, is exactly what I’m needing in those moments. Someone who’s love is unchanged when I am at my worst.

Which, as it turns out, is exactly what I want to be for others…someone who’s love is unchanged when they are their their worst.

And at the end of the day, and whether I realize it at the moment or not, “switching off” from being this doesn’t heal me, and my perceived need to do so has surfaced as an illusion. Taking a vacation from this work of being like Christ (which isn’t really work, but choice) is no vacation at all. It just creates more work (which really is work), and of the self-defeating variety.

Write this down: It is always self-defeating to handle something or someone unlike Christ. Or said another way, maybe better…it is always self-defeating for me to look at anyone and not love them.

So, after plenty of experimentation, witnesses and observers of how I live need to realize that the curse of my life is no curse at all. Since grace abounds in my failures, I need not dwell on or feel guilt about it when I fail to surrender to the spirit of Christ within me. And most encouraging is the fact that I don’t even need to believe that living like Christ is unattainable (1 Jn 2:1 captures both of these trusths).  

And even if following Christ in how he lived and looked and loved was impossible, and even if I was confused and or despairing about it, and even I suffer in my feeble attempts to do so, and even if I bought in to the illusion that I need a break from it…shoot, even if Jesus himself looked at me noticing my extreme difficulty and, desiring to give me an easy out, asked “Do you want to leave?”… I would still stay, answering the way Peter did… “Lord, to whom shall [I] go? You have the words of eternal life. [I] believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.” (Jn 6:68)

He has it all…

Peace that passes understanding.

The full measure of joy.

Love without condition.

Abounding grace.

Life without end.

I got this email today from a friend. And while this kind of note or phone call is common for me, today I’m just in a space where it triggered some deep emotion.

Brian: [I have met] a young man that you might be able to connect with. He’s really adrift and feeling pretty worthless. His dad is in prison (don’t know for what) and he is terribly afraid of disappointing his grandfather. He doesn’t seem to have a strong connection to his mom. I thought if maybe you could find the time to just come and have a coke with him, you might be able to connect with him. He apparently goes to (or has in the past) church, but he’s really struggling with his faith along with everything else. Let me know what you think – he sounded like he would be willing to talk to you if you would be willing. Thanks.

If you got this email from your friend, what would you do?

There are not many circumstances that I can say this about, but for this one, I can say that I know exactly what I will do.

I’ve already emailed my friend back to tell her I’m willing and asked her for the best way for he and I to connect.

I’ve already prayed for this guy. And not so much that all of his problems will disappear, but for me to start seeing and feeling him as a real human being…to have an openness to accept him as a brother or possibly as a son. This is so I won’t treat him like a some kind of “project” or as an inconvenience to my routine or as a problem to be fixed or as an issue to pass on to someone or something else. I’ll have to return to this prayer constantly, and I will.

I’ll then drive down there and buy him a coke and listen to him deeply and single-mindedly. Since you can’t really listen to someone while doing anything else (contrary to popular belief and practice), I’ll work hard to ignore the distractions of my phone, my thoughts, and my watch. I’ll have to do this work constantly, and I will.

Then, and I guarantee this, I will feel completely over-whelmed and over-my-head, baffled with questions of how to help him and what to do next. This happens every time, and I’ve come to expect it…even welcome it… for me, it’s always proof positive that I have followed God, and will need Him to be of any use. 

Even with this, I still know what I’ll do next. I will invite him to my basement on Tuesday nights at 8:30pm, and/or to my living room on Sunday evenings at 5:30 for him to get to know a whole bunch of us who have felt (or does feel) like him and are experimenting with how Christ can help us connect with God & each other in a way that heals, restores, and transforms.

That’s pretty much the extent of what I’ll do.

But here’s what will happen next: If and when he comes to either of these groups, he will be engaged personally, invited to share his story (and hear ours, if he is at first uncomfortable in sharing his, which you may surprised is rarely the case), and surrounded by support and love. Then, if and when he is willing, his name and phone number will be in about a dozen new people’s cell phones, and theirs in his. No matter how he has sinned, what his personality is like, what quirkiness he exhibits, he will be in the midst of people that love to work a little bit harder than most I know (Christian or not) to find this guy’s beauty and potential as a child of God. Inasmuch as this guy wants it, he will be accepted where he is at and challenged to take responsibility for moving towards the best possible life available to him…the life of Christ.

This is my life. It is a good, good life. And when I do this, I feel more like I’m being the church that Christ intended than I ever have.

And here’s the thing…for me to have the agility and ability to do that when the opportunity arises (which it does for everyone when you have eyes to see), I have to already have in place something else. A system.

I kinda hate the clunkiness of the word, but I need one, so I’m going with it.

I can do what I’m going to do because of a system that I already have in place that makes room for this guy in my life (or in my “church”). This system (which is, simply put, a couple of small groups that meet weekly for the purpose of taking off the mask and helping each other become more like Christ) is almost completely relationally based, demands involvement from anyone who would come, gets to matters of the heart quickly, and believes in everybody.

How many people in this city do you think generally fit the description that my friend has chosen to describe this guy?

• He’s “adrift”
• Struggling to feel worthy
• Spiritually fatherless
• Afraid of disappointing others
• Lacking strong connections with important people
• Has tried church and is left wanting
• Struggling with faith

And here’s the kicker, and the opportunity that I keep finding with almost everyone I meet “…he sounds like he would be willing to talk if I am willing to talk.”

And I am. This is my life. And I love it.

My day job consists of me trying to transition an incredibly loving and committed, but stereo-typical local church, from one system to another. A system that better makes room for this guy and addresses what my friend said he’s ready, willing, and open to addressing. A system that is more relationally based (like Christ), demands involvement from anyone who participates (like Christ), gets to matters of the heart quickly (like Christ), and believes in everybody (like Christ).

Simply said, I’m trying to transition this church into one that has a system that invites people to sit down over a coke and talk.

Our current system invites people to sit down, alright. “Sit down” in a big room with pews and listen to a preacher. “Sit down” in some smaller rooms and listen to a teacher. In some of the rooms, the teacher might even invite you to talk for a moment. Shoot, they may even hand out those cokes! But the likelihood that our current system will connect with you and talk…really talk… about your feelings of unworthiness, or fatherlessness, or fear of disappointing others, or in your faith struggle, or of your being “adrift” are quite slight, and would require a whole lot of initiative on your part.

Now…the message in the system we currently use is good. Jesus Christ has come to give us life, life to the full. Forgiveness is yours. Love is real. God is accessible. Purpose is available. Death is defeated. But the system being used to deliver that unchanging message needs to be changed.

I wish I could say that our current system was bad. Transitioning into a new, better system would be so much easier if our current system was just plain bad. But it’s not. It does some good. And further, in the past, when it was operating within the culture it was designed for, it has done some incredible good… including for some of the people who are currently within it. As a result, some have deep affection not just for Christ and his message, but for the system that was used to deliver them to Christ. This makes altering it very, very difficult. It’s human nature, really, not villainous. Just like we hang on to old high school letter jackets that don’t fit anymore because of the good that we associate with it, we hang on to our old church systems that don’t fit anymore because of the Good that we associate with it.

But the emails and the phone calls and the friends of friends of friends who are looking for life keep coming in. I will pass approximately 20-30 churches on the way to meet this guy over a coke, all of whom deliver the same message that I will deliver, but through systems that don’t work for him.

If we would just interpret the culture we live in as diligently as we attempt to interpret holy scripture, I believe we would find that he represents an ever-increasing number of our nation.

God help us.

Eowyn: “I fear neither death or pain.”

Aragorn: “What do you fear, my lady?”

Eowyn: “A cage. To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them. And all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire.”

These words of Eowyn stir my soul. I, too, share her fear. Only my fear goes farther. I fear I’m already in a cage. I fear I’ve used them long enough that I’m beyond accepting them…I want them. I protect them. I fight for them. I fear that my chance for valor has already come and gone.

Not all the time. And certainly not intellectually. I “know” that my moment hasn’t past. Further, I know that my opportunity for valor is a daily choice, that it comes and goes constantly, and that in each and every moment lies my chance to be love or be less. To be courageous or be common. Manly or mediocre. I know this.

But sometimes. Like when I watch an epic like Lord of the Rings, see the life and death war going on so clearly, witness people clearly choose sides, and then watch different characters on the side of good argue and choose whether to be brave or cautious. Something in me, something deep, rushes to the surface. When I see Eowyn, even (maybe especially) when navigating unbelievable circumstances, any one of which would suffice in giving her an excuse to check out and merely survive (the unfair death of her cousin, the banishment of her brother, the loss of her uncle’s mind, the suffering of her people, her own injuries and limitations), without hesitation and with fire speak what it is she does and does not fear. Those times…when my soul is stirred…my secret fears rush to the surface.

And when they rush to the surface, and I choose dedication instead of denial, I admit that I fear that my fears are the opposite of Eowyns.

I fear that I fear death or pain (and pain more than death).

I fear that I do not fear a cage.

• That as long as I can feel like I chose it, I’ll call it freedom.
• That as long as it provides enough comfort, I’ll call it my calling.
• That as long as it affirms me enough that I’m making a meaningful difference, I’ll stick with it.
• That as long as it keeps telling me I’m courageous, I’ll pretend that I am.

I read one of his essays this morning in a moment of stillness, and in it Thomas a’ Kempis says, “Those who are great in love are truly great.”

Am I truly great? Am I great in love?

The answer is no. In the arena of love, I am a beginner. I am addicted to it, and I have spent my whole life attempting it, but I am still a novice.

When you consider the standard of love taught to me by my teacher, and modeled for me in dramatic fashion, I must admit that although it is the area that I have spent the most time on, I am can hardly consider myself competent in it. I rarely love like this.

Surprisingly, this encourages me, and emboldens me. It reconnects me to the clarity of the life and death battle of which I am in the midst, helps me see who has chosen good (abundant life) or bad (life in a cage), and helps me decide that, since I have such a long distance to go, I can give my all to it and never run out of work. I will never exhaust the riches that come from pursuing this life of ever-increasing love. It has been, is, and will be the adventure of my life. And just like Lord of the Rings, it is set in the most spectacular of settings, with the most interesting and colorful cast of characters, some of whom are (and all of whom have the potential to be) the most amazing people I have ever met! And I get to call some friends.

How great is it that these moments of opportunity, my moment to be all that I can be, will never run out, pass me by or escape me. Can anyone be too old, too weary, too slow, too spent, or too incompetent to give their life for a friend? I think not. Therefore, the highest greatness available to a human being is always upon us. The cage, no matter how long we have dwelled in it, no matter how accustomed we are too it, no matter how many agreements we have made, we can escape it. And live again.

Aragorn responded one more time to Eowyn in the above dialogue. He said, “You are a daughter of Kings. A shield-maiden of Rohan. I do not think that will be your fate.”

I don’t know what you believe, but I have become convinced that I’m a child of a King. A warrior of Good. I do not think the cage will be my fate.

Yet humility demands that I admit that I fear it will be. And living with that fear is seeming okay to me, because I think the life I want demands that I accept it as a friend that reminds me to choose to not be. Which will sometimes mean choosing pain. Maybe even death.

This writing has landed me on this new revelation, yet it sounds so familiar. Ah, yes. The life of choosing pain and suffering already belongs to someone. He called for it long ago. And it seems he’s calling me to it again.

So once again…my heart’s deepest longing leaves me no choice. I want the courageous life. The good life. The life that costs everything. The life that makes a God-honest difference. I must follow Christ. 

Check this out. One of my blogs got published in New Wineskins, an eMagazine (Thanks, Keith, for including me in this issue!).

This issue is entitled “Restoration and Transformation” and while most of you have already read my post that is published there, there are several other excellent ones by other writers you might enjoy (including Edward Fudge whose website I linked to in my article).

I’m honored to be included (but I would’ve let my mom edit it for me if I new it would be published!)

“If we remain tightly enclosed within our system, it becomes an idol; but if we reject any system, we drown in the ocean of undefined chaos.” – Your Truly, adapted from a quote by Father Dumitru Staniloae

“Every creator (including ours, the Creator of everything) painfully experiences the chasm between his inner vision and its ultimate expression.  That’s what keeps art alive.” – Isaac Bashevis Singer

“If you are not producing the results you want, you need to realize that you are producing exactly what your system is designed to produce.” – Andy Stanley

“I have a dream.” – Martin Luther King

I have a dream, too.

I have a dream of a world where every single person in it is being lovingly and powerfully invited into life-giving, life-saving relationships. No one should be alone. No one should be without love. No one should be without God.

I’m striving to work out that dream in my little corner of the world by transitioning a very loving church who has the same dream out of a semi-decent system into a more productive and effective one.

What I’m doing here with my elders and this great group of people reminds me of what Jethro was doing with Moses and another great group of people. Let me add a couple of quotes here:

“What you are doing is not good.” – Jethro, to Moses, in Exodus 18, on the system he was using to lead the people of God

“Listen now to me and I will give you some advice, and may God be with you.” – Jethro, to Moses, before he suggested an entirely new system for leading the people of God

First let me say that what the group of Christians that I run with in Amarillo does is good. They love God and love each other with all of their hearts. They serve each other at the drop of a hat. They are thinkers, they are “feelers”, and they are doers. When issues are brought to their attention, someone mobilizes a few to do something productive and good about it. They love Jesus as the single most important obsession of their lives. They pray to connect with God, and they pray to move God on behalf of others. They count prayer as one of the best tools they have to serve people, but don’t hide behind it in order to justify non-involvement with those people. The number of meals being cooked by people here for others outside their own family would astound you. The number of kids and orphans and widows that will eat a meal today or have a place to sleep tonight in places like Zimbabwe and the Ukraine and the Philippines because of this group would humble you. The number of people all over Europe, Africa, South America and in prisons throughout the U.S. that will be guided towards Christ through the mail next week because of a rag-tag band of disciples who are right now in the office next to mine is mind boggling. The number of people in this city who have been and are currently surrounded by loving, caring, “I’ll-take-the-shirt-off-my-back” relational support is amazing.

What the group of Christians that I run with in Amarillo does is so good.

And contrary to what Jethro said, what Moses was doing in Exodus 18 was good, too. When Jethro questioned him about his activity, Moses explained that  “the people come to me to seek God’s will.” He showed Jethro the deep needs and conflicts and dilemma’s of the people, and how he spent his days pointing them to God, problem-solving, and peace-making.

That’s good, right? Of course it is.

Then why, pray tell, did Jethro say it wasn’t?

It was not what Moses was doing, but how he was doing it that Jethro was critiquing. See, Jethro was a “systems-thinker”. A seer, if you will. He could see beyond the good work being done, to the system being utilized to do it, and he saw that while the mission was good and right, the system was not. It left too many people frustrated and it left the leadership (Moses) burned out and tired. Keep it up, and either Moses would have quit on the people or the people would have quit on Moses.

So…wise Jethro offered a new system for Moses to try.

He said, “select capable men from all the people — men who fear God, trustworthy men who hate dishonest gain — and appoint them as officials over thousands, hundreds, fifties and tens. Have them serve as judges for the people at all times, but have them bring every difficult case to you; the simple cases they can decide themselves. That will make your load lighter, because they will share it with you. If you do this and God so commands, you will be able to stand the strain, and all these people will go home satisfied.”

This describes the conversation that the leadership at Southwest is having right now. We are attempting to become “systems-thinkers”. Seers, if you will. Like Moses, we have a mission that is good (to “make disciples of Christ through relationships”), but we are delivering that mission through an old system.

Mind you, we are doing it with some success, and it is exciting to see the fruit. It is, indeed, good.

But the “spirit of Jethro” has come upon us saying to us as a leadership what it said of Moses’ leadership, “What you are doing is not good.” And it’s not being critical of our mission, or trying to call all the good that is happening, bad. It’s trying to get us to look deeper…at our delivery system…and see if we can’t potentially deliver our mission better.

This has powerful applications in all areas of my life. My marriage, my work, my disciplines, my parenting…so many of the problems aren’t really the problems. It is the system that is underneath it.

I love systems because they will produce exactly what they are designed to produce. I hate systems because they can become a trap, and lure people into a stubborn commitment to them, making systems-work the hardest work in the world.

But it is the work of anyone who wants to change the world. And I do.

Shade is my oldest son.

Here he is as a young child, growing up in the midst of a community of people that regularly celebrated their decision to follow Christ.

And here he is today, doing it himself.

I’m glad to have (kinda) held it together.

I didn’t do so well during the sermon I preached afterwards when I told some of the stories of the powerful conversations I’ve had with Shade over the last year. The first half of this teaching is from the last few verses of the first chapter of 1 John, the second half is all the stories about Shade.

Thanks to all of you who have helped him know Jesus Christ as the loving, saving, life-giving savior and master that he is. And thanks in advance to any and all of you who will be instrumental in guiding, helping, and supporting Shade on his continuing journey into and with Christ.

I am eternally grateful.

We have decided to make a change from Blogger to a WordPress blog. My blog will now be found at http://www.brianmashburn.net. My old blog at brianmashburn.blogspot.com will no longer be updated.

Everyone on the e-mail list WILL continue to receive an e-mail when a new post is made. However, we will no longer be sending out the entire post via e-mail. Subscribing and unsubscribing to this list is done in the sidebar of the blog.

Let me know if any of you are not cool with this change so that I can laugh at how 90s you are.

“It is enough for a student to be like his teacher, and the servant like his master.” – Jesus Christ

Months ago, when I started this post before storing it away in my drafts, I had received a catalog in the mail from the bookstore of a Christian college associated with the Church of Christ. I opened it looking to see if they offered a Greek language study workbook that they used to carry years ago. My heart both flared up defensively and started weeping with compassion as I read titles of books that, instead of fixing people’s eyes on Jesus, were fixing people’s eyes on the historical and contemporary church. I wish I still had it now to list more, but one of the titles I remember was called What about Instrumental Music in Worship?

Shew. I’m getting to the point where I don’t have the energy to answer that question any more. I want to just respond, “What about it?” My friend who is strung out on prescription drugs and checked into rehab isn’t going to be healed by how he worships on Sunday. My son who is getting baptized this weekend (!!!) isn’t going to be saved because he believes one way or the other about that issue. My buddy trapped in a life of aggression and anger because he was hurt as a kid by a villainous adult and made the agreement that he “will never be weak again!” WILL NOT BE HEALED BY READING THAT BOOK AND TAKING IT’S MESSAGE TO HEART.

Ya feel me?

There is such a huge difference between a religion that seeks to help people imitate Jesus Christ in heart, character, priorities and mission and a religion that seeks to imitate the historical church’s external worship practices, belief systems, gathering habits, life philosophies and superficial doctrines.

Now, before I go on, I’m not outright condemning the focus on church. After all, the church is the bride of Christ. The church is the group of people on planet earth that Christ indwells to continue his presentation of  himself to the world today in the flesh. The bride’s worship practices matter, her belief systems are important, and her philosophies and doctrines make a huge difference in how they live life, what message they carry to the world, and whether or not they are continuing to represent God on earth in the way that Jesus did.

But…and this is a very big but…the focus on the church as a pattern for how we are to "do church", rather than a focus on Christ as a pattern for how we "do life", is a focus riddled with danger. Life-stealing, legalism-producing, religion-focused, anger-inciting, divisive danger that distracts people from the only Source of salvation of any kind. I have seen (in myself as much as in others, mind you) as much un-Christlikeness come from the (well-intentioned) focus on the church as I have from any other misguided focus on the planet.

Based on this off-the-mark focus…

• I’ve seen people try to convert people to certain worship practices rather than to Christ (ex: I argued with my Baptist school-mate Ron in high school about our different views on baptism, and we both did so quite zealously, right in front of non-Christian Cheryl, who sat behind us, silently making her decisions concerning what Christianity must be all about based on us.)
• I’ve seen people leave (and recruit other people to leave) churches because of doctrinal issues that had nothing to do with becoming more like Christ (ex: I know a guy who left his ministry position in a church because he disagreed with one of the members who was a Bible class teacher and didn’t hold his view on the 2nd coming of Christ).
• I’ve seen groups of Christ followers completely part ways, sometimes into more than 2 groups (!), over a philosophical difference (ex: a whole church I know split right down the middle, one group investing in and maintaining a whole other campus, simply because one group wanted to financially support a Children’s Home).
• I’ve seen people outright condemn to hell God-honest, love-motivated people who exhibit every one of the fruits of the Spirit (Gal 5) because they didn’t see their way about the practices of church (ex: I have a copy of a book called "the Smith-Hunt debate" where, in the forward, it is acknowledged that "our definite agreement on the essentials of the gospel and New Testament Christianity were wonderfully noted." However, in the same forward, it was acknowledged that the issue being debated (instrumental music) was considered by some as a "test for fellowship". What??? How can the essentials of the gospel be agreed upon, but the difference of opinion on this doctrine was a test for whether we are saved by that gospel message or not?)
• I’ve seen people use the word "Biblical" in ways that would astound the Bible’s writers, making them look at each other amazed at the distance people can go in missing the point. (ex: "It’s not Biblical to have a choir sing in church." – This means that there is no command or example of a choir being used by any church in the Bible, so to use it is "unbiblical" and therefore "sinful", and therefore, if you do it, you are going to hell when you die).

I could go on and on.

The Christian movement I have come out of (which I deeply love and appreciate, by the way, despite what this piece may seem to reflect) is called the "Restoration Movement".

It has as it’s premise the idea of Christian unity based on the restoration of the New Testament church in our day. This sounds at first to be a noble call. It sends you to the Bible, to be sure, but it sends you there looking for the church. You’ll look for it’s practices, it’s beliefs, and it’s actions. You’ll then start building your own church’s practices, beliefs, and actions based on that. As the theory goes, if all churches did this, our differences would be solved, all because we practice the same religious practices found listed in the Bible. Unity accomplished.

Some problems I have with this:

• When you go to the Bible looking for the church, you often skip over the verses that speak of Christ, the bringer of unity (& life).
• When you go to the Bible looking for a list of verses that contain how you should do your worship services on Sunday mornings, you will find them…and use them as such…even when they were not intended for that.
• As I’ve already illustrated, I have never seen anyone’s life miraculously transformed from their conversion to a certain set of worship practices performed at their churches on Sunday morning.
• When you go to the Bible looking for the 1st century church, your spiritual conversations tend to be about the 1st century church, and the people I have met that need saving from anything don’t care about those conversations.
• Our movement has tried it. And it has resulted not in unity, but incredible  division to the point of embarrassment. It is just too easy to interpret scriptures differently. One catalogue that attempts to list all the Churches of Christ in the U.S. has codes next to each one to distinguish what “kind” of church it is (OC = “one cuppers” = this church believes you must take communion out of one cup, not multiple ones; NC = “Non-class” = this church believes it is wrong to add a time for Bible classes to the worship gathering on Sunday mornings) Like I said…embarrassing.

And my biggest problem is that this entire premise (re: going to the Bible to restore the New Testament church) is not called for anywhere in the whole Bible. The consistent call of the Bible, as far as I can tell, has as it’s premise for Christian unity the followership and imitation of the person of Jesus Christ.

This is what discipleship is.

A disciple is a person who attaches themselves to a teacher, and makes it their aim to become "like" that teacher. It involves learning what he teaches, prioritizing what he prioritizes, living as he lives, embodying the character that he embodies. It is a lifelong transformation of the whole person, the heart, conforming it into the image of the teacher’s heart.

And my teacher, who I quoted at the top of this piece, says that that is enough.

In my opinion, our movement could borrow on it’s strengths and address it’s increasingly problematic error, with an ever-so-slight, but revolutionary adjustment, changing from the restoration of the New Testament church to "the restoration of discipleship". Stop trying to imitate 1st century churches, start trying to imitate Jesus. Stop going to the Bible to find worship practices for Sunday, start going to the Bible looking to become like Christ. Jesus said that’s what scripture is for (Jn 5:39-40).

The point is Christ. The point of everything in the Bible is Jesus Christ. Not the first century church. Christ. Jesus said, "Go and make disciples." Not "Go and build up churches that look like the 1st century church." Even Paul, who’s writings we lean on heavily in order to extract any clues we may find in scripture concerning the practices of the 1st century church, said, "Imitate me, as I imitate Christ".

Here’s the deal, and I challenge anyone to make a case to the contrary… Focusing on following the church (1st century or otherwise) does not always lead you to Christ…it may lead you to a church and it’s ways, but not necessarily Christ and his. However, a focus on following Christ always leads you to Christ and his ways, and by being led there, makes you a part of the church that the Father intends.

As I was finishing this up, I got this piece from Edward Fudge. And he’s a whole lot smarter (and more concise) that me, so you might enjoy several of his pieces related to this topic here.

Finally, I have an old post that still rings true in my heart.

I’m glad to say that, while I still talk about this for others in my circle who are learning the difference between following a person or a plan, Jesus Christ or some set of rules regarding church worship practices, I feel that I now have my eyes firmly fixed on Christ alone… for life to the full, for the way I am to live, for forgiveness of my sins, for the truth about everything, for how to view my fellow man, and for anything and everything else that matters.

As Jesus says, if I, his disciple, strive to become like him, my teacher…that’s enough.

“It is quite amazing how strongly a person can feel about the external things that make up the schedule of events presented at a large group meeting of Christians during one hour on Sunday.” – Yours Truly

“The perfect worship service would be one we were almost unaware of. Our attention would have been on God.” – C.S. Lewis

One time, I saw a video played at a church service about a couple who had weathered some very tough situations in their marriage, and let me tell you, by the end of it, my jaw was on the ground at how their impossible situation seemed to be miraculously turned around by God. Everyone was talking about it after the worship service, but not everyone was talking about where they saw God in it. I overheard one lady, with scowled face, pursed lips, and frowning eyebrows complaining to an elder that she “didn’t appreciate the music” track that was gently playing behind the couple as they shared on the video.

Another time, I was at a worship service where this sweet lady who had undergone a very difficult time medically went up to the preacher and asked if she could express her thanks to the church family for all the special help and support. I was undone emotionally by her sincere gratitude as she rattled off just a few of the names and actions that so many had selflessly given. Everyone was noting how they saw Christ in her and in those she spoke about. Except for the people in one email chain, who were only noting (in an appalled way) that a woman spoke into a microphone during the worship service.

Another time, I remember being taken in by the songs being sung. It was so cool how each song’s message led seamlessly to the next. When I was waiting in line to tell the guy responsible how I noticed the presence of God in what he put together for us, I was behind a couple who was lodging a disgruntled complaint about the absence of certain songs that they would have rather sung.

In another worship service, I got to share a teaching of Christ about the forgiving nature of God and the guilt-free living available because of it. I handed out index cards and pencils, and invited the group to privately write down things they still live in guilt about. I ended the teaching by inviting them to get up and throw what they wrote down away in trash cans that I had put around the room as a symbol of what they are free to do with their guilt, according to Jesus. This seemed to merit me about a half-dozen emails from Christ-followers who were there, making the case that I shouldn’t have done it, with statements ranging from “because it makes people uncomfortable” to “we just don’t do that here” to “because it’s wrong.” (!)

Twice, and in two different churches, and on several different occasions, the idea of taking the Lord’s Supper in some other way than passing trays down each isle for everyone to partake privately was suggested, and it was knocked out on the basis of how the Christians who go there might react emotionally to “such a change”. Shew! I thought we Christians placed our belief on doing things by the Bible alone. Yet evidently, some Christians will react emotionally as if not using trays and pews would be unbiblical. Better not suggest the idea of taking it in our small groups at home (Acts 2:46). Or participating in it on a day other than Sunday (1 Cor 11:23-25).

What is it about the precious worship service that heightens some Christian’s sensitivity about what gets to happen within it?

One person who I know full well has TV’s in their home and use computers at their work got upset when his church put a screen and PowerPoint projector in the room to use during the precious worship service.

Another person who I know sang in choruses at school all of their life had issues when her church let a choir sing during their precious worship service.

Yet another person I know got upset when a preacher spoke too long. And another got upset when a preacher didn’t speak long enough.

One girl I know who would totally bust a move at the school dances to all of our favorite songs in the 80s was totally offended when someone in the worship service raised their hands in the air as we sang “These humble hands, I lift to You”.

What gives? Seriously.

The more I engage with human beings who have experienced these strong feelings about these external relatively small variations between different church services, I find myself having trouble explaining the justification for them (the strong feelings, that is).

I have trouble:

• Explaining these strong feelings about the precious worship service to non-Christians.
• Explaining these strong feelings to burned-out-on-church Christians.
• Trying to justify these convictions as necessary to accomplish the fruit of transformation that Jesus is after in people’s hearts.

I’ve read the Bible through several times. I’ve read Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John the most (since they contain the story of Jesus while he was here). All this reading doesn’t make me any kind of authority on answering this question academically, but I am somewhat familiar with the life and teachings of Jesus.

It seems to me that he thinks that everything…everything…should be done out of sincere love for God and love for other people (Mt 22: 40). Additionally, it seems to me that he thinks that everything…everything…is useful or not by it’s potential to help people live the life that he came to give us, which he claimed to be the fullest, most abundant life possible (Jn 10:10).

So…it seems to me that everything…everything…in the precious worship service should be judged by the same. And that’s all.

The only time I can find where Jesus speaks directly about a worship service was when he was saying that the outward, superficial details didn’t matter. That what mattered to God was the “kind” of worshipper a person was. The “kind” that adhered, not to outward expressions of religious practices during a one-hour event on Sunday, but to an inward sincerity that dwells within the confines of “spirit and truth”.

What does he mean by “spirit and truth”, you might ask.

Well, I think it means to worship in line with Christ’s heart, character, mission and priorities. So anything…anything…at a worship service that exalts love for God and love for people, no matter how it is outwardly and superficially presented, is just fine with me.

There is an interesting article here about some of the big issues in the Church of Christ, if you are interested. It starts out with one big issue in the precious worship service, but then expands towards the end and offers a perspective that could be used to discern all potential issues.

My advice to all Christians: Seek first Christ in everything that is presented to you within any worship service you attend. Work hard at this seeking, and you will find him. And your reward in the precious worship service will be great…Christ himself.

My warning to all Christians: Seek first what you consider wrong or uncomfortable in everything that is presented to you within any worship service you attend, and you will find it. Then you will work hard at being angry, disturbed, or disgruntled. And the reward in the precious worship service will be missed…Christ himself.