It has been some time in my life that I have been discontent with “the church”. No let me reword that, I have felt that the current church of today is missing something. I have been to different church families throughout the states, and even been a part of communities where I myself missed the point. But nowhere until last Sunday did I get why Acts 2:42 was so powerful.
There is this small but mighty tribe of people on a journey together to be the church. To be intimate and connected with the Creator and Savior of the Universe, who longs to be the same with us. This is a place where needs are met, hearts are treated as valuable items to be handled with care and all people are loved no matter the person. Where offerings are collected for people who are truly in need of food and clothing.
This is a place where peace and rest and struggle and search all happen at the same time. Here is my problem – my question:
From the very moment I stepped foot on these grounds, I knew there was something different, powerful, REAL. I love this place, these people, but why is it so unique? Is this not exactly what the church, the body of Christ is all about- being different – powerful – real. How have they nailed it so well and I have missed it so often. I would very much call myself an American Christian, so I group myself in this stereotype. How have I had the same Bible for direction and passion for the same God, yet I’ve missed the boat on this “church community” thing.
(no good church word describes it.)
I have spent years searching for this community never to have round it. But alas, God has opened my eyes to a small glimpse of what the body of Christ functioning as a body might look like.
Oh God, please forgive me for my feeble attempts to recreate the church the way I saw it. Forgive me for being so caught up in doing, that I have missed years of being with you. God forgive me for trying to make you fit into the box we call Sunday worship. We have no right to box you up and mass produce you. God I am sorry for hiding behind the walls of my safe church building pretending to be a good person when there were people hurting, needing and begging for you and I missed them because I was too busy “serving” you.
Dear Jesus break the mold I have found myself in. Tear apart my box I have held you in and burn it to ashes. From the pile of rubble I call my heart, create a new longing to be your bride to follow you all the days of my life. Help me learn how to master the art of living.
“For it is by grace you have been saved through faith, and not this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God, not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” Ephesians 2:8-10
