Fair warning…there’s going to be some frustration in this blog. I’ve gone back and edited and tried to get this to a place where the heart behind it could be heard, but I can’t take the frustration out and it still be honest, so I stopped trying to. I hope those of you who know me also know my heart in my frustration. I love the church, and I also really love people who don’t love the church. I think it’s incredibly important to love and honor both. I’m certain I didn’t write this perfectly, but I tried to be loving in my frustration, and I feel like its important to share my thoughts on this. I hope it benefits someone or at least starts a dialogue! Here it goes…
As churches come closer and closer to opening their doors, I’m conflicted. I personally feel the impact of disrupted community, and at the same time, it all feels rushed. It feels dismissive of people who are at risk, and as a certain public figure says the words “places of worship are essential”, and I watch so many christians pump their fists in the air in celebration, I wince. Not because I don’t think that declaration is true, but because I think the church is absolutely essential to God’s kingdom, and I don’t think we always actually understand why it is. We’re in the middle of a pandemic that is literally world-wide, and instead of hearing most Christians talk about their neighbor, the defenseless, the elderly, and what love might require, the majority of what I feel like I’m seeing and hearing Christians do is grasp and shout for rights they were never promised, at least not by the one they follow. (I promise, I know this isn’t a representation of all christians in this time. It just feels prevalent and frustrating.)
In my experience, the community of God being the community of God is amazingly powerful. God designed it that way. When the community of God takes on the shape of crucifixion and resurrection, it’s hard for the world to ignore how good God is. Or, at the very least, true kingdom of God behavior can reveal how distorted and wounded our world has become by showing that something else is possible. When the community of God takes on the image of a wedding banquet where everyone is invited, God’s character and desire to redeem humanity becomes mysteriously clear. The community of God, when it looks like Christ touching lepers, and eating with tax collectors and “sinners”, paints a picture of the kingdom of God that is hard to ignore. The world needs the community of God to be the christ-like community of God, as do the people of God. But what does banquet look like when you can’t gather? And what does touching look like from a distance of 6 feet? The church is faced with some hard questions. I can’t ignore that. But somehow many of us have diluted “church” to a single hour of a single day of the week and convinced ourselves that we’ve made it holy, instead of taking the time to figure out what love requires the church to be in the space we currently find ourselves in.
There’s not much that frustrates me more than christians calling something “obedience” or “faith”, when the thing they’re calling obedience or faith is actually almost completely based in fear. I can’t shake the feeling that it’s not obedience to read a passage out of its context and into ours in order to guard something we feel like we might be in danger of losing (in this instance, the weekly gathering). That’s fear, and it betrays a lack of trust in the unshakability of God’s kingdom. It’s not faith, even if we say the words “God will protect us”, to purposefully go against the medical advice of the majority of medical professionals around the world (the same medical professionals that we trust, and pay thousands of dollars to cut open our bodies, when we need them to correct things that have gone wrong inside of us). Saying those words, and acting irresponsibly so that God will come through doesn’t prove faith. It betrays fear: Fear that if I disobey God he’ll be displeased with me, or worse…fear that a virus might actually win if WE don’t act. Both instances show that we have a perspective problem. Either our view of God has missed the mark, or our view of our place in his story misses the mark. That kind of “faith” looks more like the kind of “faith” the devil tried to convince Jesus to have in the desert when he told him to jump, and abandon the journey he was on, in order to prove his trust that God would keep him from striking his foot on a rock. You might remember, Jesus rejected that kind of “faith.” He wasn’t afraid of whether or not God had his best interest at heart. He already knew the truth.
In all of this, I just keep thinking, Jesus didn’t have anything to prove to Satan, and he didn’t seem particularly afraid of suffering or losing. He knew where he was going, and he knew that God knew where he was going. And he knew that it was going to work, and that God’s kingdom was already breaking into the world, even as he walked toward death. And almost the whole way there, it was the religious people who didn’t get it but thought they did. I find myself praying regularly in this season that today’s church (and I pray this prayer for myself too), won’t be yet another example of religious people not getting it while thinking they do.
I wonder in this time what it might look like for the church of God to suffer on behalf of the world instead of playing the victim of the world. What would it be like if the church of God led the narrative of “God is not caught of guard or threatened by this virus. There’s not a sickness on earth that is stronger than resurrection.” What if our collective voice said something more along the lines of “God is in our midst, and he cares about our suffering.” What if we believed Paul’s words in Philippians when he proclaimed “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” (aka…I can be content regardless of my circumstances).
What I worry most about isn’t missing several months of Sunday morning gatherings. I’m sorry…I just don’t. Yes it’s a bummer. Yes I miss my people. But I think there are so many ways for the community of God to practice being the community of God when circumstances require social distancing for the sake of vulnerable people’s health. I honestly think it shows a lack of faith when we behave as if there’s only one way to do things. What I worry about most is that the church of God might once again miss a multitude of opportunities to practice justice, leveling the playing field for the most vulnerable people in our midst, while we’re too focused guarding our religious freedom.
I think I’ve been cringing a lot lately because the phrase “the church is essential” is starting to sound a lot like “don’t take my stuff”, when in reality nobody is slightly interested in “taking our stuff away from us.” And even if I’m wrong, and they are (whoever “they” is), nobody has any actual power to take away an inheritance God has already given us. It’s ours. It’s done. Jesus said “it is finished.” I hope we’ll believe him.
During this time, I pray we’re not missing opportunities to sacrifice for the sake of people who might need to see what it looks like when God sacrifices everything on their behalf. I’ve seen opportunity after opportunity during this season for Christ followers to hold onto their doctrine less tightly for the sake of loving their neighbor more fully (which Jesus did multiple times in the gospels by the way), because the law was intended to show us how to love God and love neighbor in the first place. Let’s stop acting out of fear. Let’s trust that God is in our midst, moving on our behalf, redeeming what looks too broken to fix. Let’s be people of faith regardless of the circumstances we find ourselves in. And let’s find creative ways to be the community of God without dismissing the needs of the most vulnerable people in our midst.
****Disclaimer**** I’m also haven’t been completely certain what love requires in every situation during this strange season, and I’m not going to claim to have the corner on what is right during this time. I’m definitely not always doing this perfectly myself. I don’t think it’s necessarily clear that love requires the same thing from every person in every part of the world, and I’m not advocating for one approach over another regardless of circumstance. I don’t think I’ve always approached every situation wisely during this pandemic (I’m constantly having to check my motivations and actions). What I’m advocating for is self-reflection. For Christ followers to identify fear that is masquerading as faith, because it’s deceptive and damaging to our witness, and it could literally physically damage people around us, ultimately painting a painfully incomplete picture of a pretty amazing God to people who are watching. Look honestly at your life and discern if you’re holding too tightly to anything during this season, trying to guard something that’s not yours to guard. Let’s ask some different questions. What is this season revealing? How might God be entering into this season with me to shape me more into the image of Christ? How is God currently reflecting cross shaped love in our midst? And I hope we’ll especially take a long hard look at how tightly we’re holding our religious practice, and how much of our grasping is motivated by something other than what motivated Christ to go to a cross.
Lately I’ve been reading a lot of passages where Jesus says something along the lines of “He [or she] who has ears, let them hear.” Lately I’m just spending a lot of time trying to hear what Jesus wanted the Jewish people to hear, and most of it seems to be something along the lines of “Can you see what God is doing in the world? Don’t miss it!” My biggest prayer right now is that in the midst of pain, darkness, loneliness, and fear, the people of God might be able to point at God’s kingdom breaking in and say “There it is…can you see it?”
While I see a lot of christians behaving directly out of their fear, I also see God drawing us to his goodness through Christ followers pointing at the kingdom of God in really beautiful ways on purpose, and non christ-followers showing Christ-like, cross shaped love, unknowingly. God is moving even if we don’t have eyes to see, just like he was in the gospels. Christ followers all over the world are living with great faith in God to redeem a situation that’s dark, and doing it while also caring for the needs of those this pandemic is impacting most severely. Both are possible at the same time, and I’m thankful for the people in my circle that have shown me different ways of doing that. May God’s presence be evident to you, wherever you find yourself, in his rooted and growing kingdom. And as we enter back into our gatherings, may we do so with the “least of these” at the front of our minds. Thanks for reading.
