There’s something ironic about short words with deep meaning.  Take the word “prayer” for example.  There are only six letters in the word, but it is used to describe interacting with the limitless God.  Seems ironic, doesn’t it?  If I was in charge of creating a word to describe prayer, I’d probably end up forming a long, German-looking word with multiple hyphens in it.  I’d probably make it nice and complicated, just so that everyone realized the immensity of what they were getting involved in.

Condemnation and Shame

It seems that prayer is a word that Christians speak and write a lot about, but actually do very little.  At least, that statement has been true of my own life.  I’ve spoken on the importance and ease of prayer, but struggled to daily interact with the Lord.  In fact, if I’m going to be downright honest, I haven’t especially enjoyed prayer.  Sure, there were times when the Spirit would intervene and I would experience some delight, but for the most part the place of prayer has been a dry and arid region of my life.

Condemnation and shame (i.e. thinking I am something wrong) have contributed to my hesitancy to engage God in the place of prayer.  Whenever I would struggle to stay on the right path, I would sense a wave of condemnation and shame.  I’d suppose that God was disappointed in my poor performance. Why wouldn’t He?  He died for my sins and to free me from this horrible cycle of unrighteousness and I repay Him with endless mistakes.  I think many people identify with this way of thinking.  It’s the way I used to think until I read, The Shack, by W. Paul Young.

God Is Never Disappointed

In The Shack, there’s a conversation that takes place between Mackenzie, the main character, and Holy Spirit.  During the conversation, Holy Spirit makes a statement like, “You know it’s not possible for me to ever be disappointed in you, Mack.”

Mack responds with astonishment and unbelief.  “Surely, it’s not possible that You’ve never been disappointed in me.”

Holy Spirit then launches into this beautiful discourse on how it is not possible for God to be disappointed in us.  The logic goes something like this:

• Disappointment is results from unmet expectations.  For example, I expected you to clean up the house by the time I got home, but you didn’t. Therefore, my expectation is not met.  Therefore, I feel disappointed because you did not meet my expectation.
• Expectation is the “strong belief something will happen or be the case in the future.”  Notice, it is not the knowledge that something will happen in the future.  It is the “strong belief.”  Therefore, expectations are only possible for beings that do not know the future.
• God knows the future.  He is the “Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End.”  David said in Psalm 139 that before a word was even on his lips God already knew it.
• Therefore, since God knows everything He cannot have unmet expectations; and if God cannot have unmet expectations then He cannot experience disappointment towards me when I sin.

It may take a minute to wrap your mind around this logic, but it will liberate you once you understand.  God knew me, and loved me, before I was even born.  When I was chosen in His before the foundations of the world (Eph 1:4), He already knew the list of sins I would commit.  However, in spite of that, He still chose to love me and make me His own.  Therefore, there is never any reason for me to live under condemnation (Rom 12:1).

Talking to Dad

The next day, I went for a walk during my lunch break.  I like to walk in the middle of winter because I can be outdoors and by absolutely alone at the same time.  No one else is as crazy as I am to go for a walk when it’s 10 degrees F outside!

As I was walking down the road, I found myself praying and, oddly enough, enjoying the experience.  This was unexpected.  As I began to think about what I read the night before, Holy Spirit showed me how He used the story to break off shame and condemnation from me.  I no longer had to live under the cruel taskmaster of disappointment.   As Paul told the Ephesians I had been, “freely accepted in the Beloved,” (Ephesians 1:6) which is Christ.  No matter what state of being I am in, I can run to Him and find full acceptance.

Up until then, I had always called God my “Heavenly Father.”  As I prayed, I felt the need to ask God for another name to call Him.  “I associate all these feelings of disappointment and condemnation with that title, God.  Is there another name I can call You?”

I began to try out other words that mean “Father.”

“Let’s see…Abba…no…Papi….no….hmm.”  I couldn’t figure something out.

Then Holy Spirit spoke to me and asked, “What do you call your father?”

“Dad,” I replied.  “I just call him my dad.”

“Then that is what you can call Me,” He said within.

Truly?  Could I dare to call God such a name that was common and plain?  “Yes,” I said to myself.  “That is exactly what I will call you!”

The experience was so freeing to me.  I did not have to live under the false idea that God was disappointed in me.  Neither did I need to speak to Him as if He were far off.  He is the One who has come near to me even when I was far away from Him.  I am freely accepted by my “Dad.”  I can encounter someone called “Dad.”  That is something that I can relate to.

Such a small word to convey such a limitless God.  There’s that irony again.

Riding home from church as a child was always a colorful experience. The morning had been full of activity: singing songs, playing games, and Bible stories on the flannel-type storyboard complete with cutouts of Jesus and his disciples. There was a lot of stimulation and I needed some way to release all these experiences pent up inside. So what would I do? On the twenty-minute drive home from church, I would dominate the conversation, recounting every detail of the morning. My brother, eight years older and interested in things other than a six-year-old’s rendition of Jonah and the Whale, would get frustrated and complain saying, “Mom, Matthew just won’t stop talking!”

I admit it. I like to talk.

If anyone could have a sense of accomplishment it would have been me. Already in my mid-twenties, I was the associate pastor of a small church plant. I had the opportunity to share the pulpit with the senior pastor, lead small groups, and coordinate outreaches to the community. I had a laminated card certifying my position and a monthly stipend for my car. I had crossed the gap between laymen and clergy. I was one of the professionals. Young, yes, but full of zeal and on the track towards someday being the pastor of my very own church.

Is There Something More?

“Let me tell you why you’re here. You’re here because you know something. What you know you can’t explain, but you feel it. You’ve felt it your entire life, that there’s something wrong with the world. You don’t know what it is, but it’s there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad. It is this feeling that has brought you to me. Do you know what I’m talking about?” – Morpheus, The Matrix

However, there was something gnawing at my foundation, like a “splinter in my mind” or a popcorn kernel stuck between my teeth. It was going no where. No matter how hard I tried to be dedicated and involved in the church, there was something inside of me that would not be ignored. My wife and I would go for walks through the forest and share our hearts with one another. So many times on those walks we’d end up looking at each other and, with an aching and unfulfilled desire in our hearts, saying, “Isn’t there something more?”

The church provided plenty of activities to keep us busy.  However, the longing was for more than programs, meetings, and recognition.  We craved the same life that believers shared with one another in the Book of Acts.  We wanted to see unbelievers get saved and lives transformed.  The Christian life had to be more than what we were experiencing.  Jesus died for so much more than repetitious, organized meetings and relationships that seemed superficial and forced.

Please don’t misunderstand me here.  We love the people in that congregation.  They were well-meaning and it wasn’t that we had no fellowship at all.  However, we became aware that the structure we were part of did not lend to the depth of relationship we saw modeled in the New Testament– the depth that we yearned for.

Sharing Each Other’s Burdens

Paul told the believers in Galatia, “Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ” (Gal. 6:2).  Realistically, how can you share each other’s burdens when your church gatherings have a predetermined agenda?  How can you foster a deep relationship with someone during the greeting time?  How can you encounter God with others in a personal and natural way during the week when your calendar is already full with church events?  I realize that I’m speaking in extremes, but it’s in order to make a point.

Fellowship with believers should have depth to it.  It takes time, energy, and tears to manifest this type of community.   That’s why the most common description for the people of God in the New Testament is a family.  We are to be a family, sharing mutual love and trust with one another.  However,  I’m not going to share my struggles with someone that I cannot trust; and trust is not fostered in a ten-minute coffee break before a service.

The Beginning of the End

All these thoughts were swirling around within.  Countless times we went to Father, asking for wisdom and clarity.  I had always been told in Bible College that you need to press through discontentment in ministry. It sounded like a good principle back then,  but now I was in the thick of the struggle and very much struggling to maintain my composure.

Again, we went to Father and asked for closure. We wanted to resolve this unsettled issue and get back to the “work of the ministry.” However, the splinter remained. We both sensed that a transition was on the horizon, but Father only gave us enough insight to keep us in a place of dependence on Him (with a healthy dose of discomfort).

It was during that time that I came across a book entitled, Pagan Christianity?, by Frank Viola and George Barna.  In it, they examine the most common church traits of Christianity today and trace them back to their origins.  As I read through the book, I was astonished at how little of modern-day Christianity is scripturally-based and modeled on the 1st century New Testament church.  That book was a milestone for me, which I fondly refer to as, “The Beginning of the End.”

Stay tuned for more of the story!  Still to come:

• Does the modern-day pastor exist in the New Testament?
• What about spiritual authority and the “spiritual covering” movement?
• How did the early church gather and how is it different from today?
• How to leave your church without “throwing spears”
• How to know when it’s the right time to leave?
• How to walk with integry when leaving the institutional church?

Continue to Part 2: “Down the Rabbit’s Hole”

On my way to work last Thursday, I noticed a new billboard on Highway 494.  In the 5:00 o’clock pre-dawn darkness the orange and blues shouted a message to passersby: “Windows – Life Without Walls.”

I am a Mac enthusiast.  Therefore, I’m naturally pre-disposed to a critical attitude when it comes to Microsoft Windows.  However, the advertising slogan that Microsoft used is worthy of some honest criticism.

“Windows – Life Without Walls.”  Think about the windows in your home or office.  They provide light from the outside world, protection from cold Minnesota winters, and mild entertainment when the occasional bird flies into it.  Windows themselves are actually very useful.

However, a window by itself won’t do.  A garage-full of windows does not benefit anyone.  In order to take an otherwise useless piece of glass and metal and put it to use it must be installed in a wall.  Only once it is hung on a structure does it fulfill its role. Structure is a necessity.

When I talk to people about my experience leaving the institutional church, most people falsely assume that it involves a religious-flavored version of anarchy.  Images of wandering individuals and purposeless gatherings flicker through my mind.  They assume that I am living “life without walls.”

Why is it that leaving the four walls of tradition conjure up visions of reckless free-for-all’s?

Truth be told, leaving the institutional church does not require a departure from order. I’m still on my journey into the realm of organic Christianity, but here are some key points that I understand thus far.

Structure is Vital to a Healthy Life

I like the word “organic” because it implies something that is living.  The trees outside my window have life within themselves.  The Canadian geese waddling around the frozen lake have life within themselves.  Anything that is living is organic in nature.

The human body is comprised of 50-75 trillion cells.  These cells are organized in varying patterns and functions that result in arms, lungs, eyes, etc.  That means I am an extremely complex, organic creature!

The human body also has 206 bones.  These bones provide a framework that supports my organic body.  If these bones were missing, I would be nothing more than a blob of tissue.  Not having a framework to hold my brain, heart, or lungs in place would result in death.

Structure sustains and protects life.  Participating in an organic church setting requires structure in order to promote healthy function.

For instance, we had a handful of people over to our home last Friday night.  We shared a meal, drank coffee, and talked about our experiences with God.  It was unscripted and life flowed naturally from our conversations.  However, it required someone to organize the gathering by inviting people, cooking food, and making the guests feel welcomed.  (Shameless plug here: My wife is excellent at this!) My wife provided a context for people to gather together and share life.

We’ll look at the concept of organic leadership in a future post.  However, it is important to know that it does exist.  Structure can actually be very beneficial when it operates in a healthy way.

Organic Structure Is Not Predictable

During my brother’s generation, they had this novelty called a pet rock.  The first Pet Rocks were ordinary gray stones bought at a builder’s supply store and marketed as if they were live pets. The fad lasted about six months, ending with the Christmas season in December 1975.

If I took a pet rock and set it on my office table, I can  reasonably guarantee it would be there the next day.  It would be predictable.

However, if I had a pet dog and I put him on my office table, I could make no guarantee that he would be in that same spot the next day.  He may have wandered into the bathroom only to be caught drinking water from the toilet bowl.  His demeanor may have changed.  His energy level may be different.  His living, organic nature, makes him an unpredictable companion to the pet rock still sitting on my office table.

In an institutional church format, one could reasonably predict a gathering of believers.  Any given church building would probably be occupied on Sunday morning, between the hours of 9AM and 12PM.  There would most likely be a service led by professional clergy, introduced with a musical number.  Towards the end of the event, there would probably be a single person delivering a speech that was religious in nature.  Chances are, that speech would have three points, and be followed by a congregational prayer.  One week later, the entire process would most likely reoccur like clockwork.

Organic church, on the other hand, is spontaneous and unpredictable.  Last night, when we met with other believers, we ate dinner and spent most of the time sharing about how we encountered Jesus in the past few weeks.  The next time we gather, however, it may be on a different day, at a different time, and at another home.  Instead of talking the entire time, we may pray or worship.  We might decide to take a trip to the grocery store and buy a cartload of groceries for the family in need next door.  Each meeting has a mystery to it.

If something has life within it, that life will constantly take on different forms.

Organic Structures Grow Naturally

Staying with the illustration of the human body, notice how the skeleton structure changes over time.  A newly conceived baby, still in its embryonic stage, has no pronounced skeletal system.  At five weeks, the neural tube begins to develop, which will one day become the baby’s brain, spinal cord, nerves, and backbone.  The structure is simple and accommodates the present needs of that child.

Twenty years later, that child has been born and matured.  He is now a fully developed human being.  Instead of one neural tube, he has 206 carefully fashioned bones, each contributing to the overall support his body requires.  Structure naturally formed within this human being.  As he grew in maturity, the structure also grew and conformed.

If you are interested in launching out into organic Christianity don’t get bogged down with trying to figure everything out immediately before you begin.  Start small with what organic elements you have.  Let the organic structure naturally grow over time.  You do not need to designate “elders” and “deacons” right away, if at all.  You do not need to set agendas to the meetings.  Seek Father together, in your group, for what His agenda is.  Since you’re seeking a vibrant, organic experience things may look different every time.  The important thing is to gather, love one another, and focus on Jesus.

Avoid the tendency to name the group, establish roles, and set rules.  Seek to make your gatherings as simple as possible.  Follow the method Jesus used.  The method is incredibly simple, highly relational, easy to duplicate, and centered on God.  The method is found in John 5:19 - “I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by himself. He does only what he sees the Father doing. Whatever the Father does, the Son also does.”

Here’s a good example to get started.  Invite your friends over to your house for a meal.  Either provide the food or have each person bring a dish.  Sit down around a big table and, as you eat, ask one another, “How have you encountered Jesus this week?”  You can also ask them, “Where are you on your journey with Jesus?”  Follow the ageless slogan that I’m beginning to appreciate, the KISS method (Keep It Simple, Stupid!).

The night of his betrayal Jesus told his disciples that he would soon be leaving them. He understood that a painful death awaited him, followed by a glorious resurrection, and ascension to be with the Father.

John 16:5-6 – “But now I am going to Him who sent Me; and none of you asks Me, ‘Where are You going?’ But because I have said these things to you, sorrow has filled your heart.”

All of this would happen in the next forty-some days, but the disciples didn’t know that. All they knew was that the man they called “Lord” was leaving for a place they could not go.

This was the man they experienced life with for the past three years. He was the one who brought them all together. He was the common bond among these fishermen, tax collectors, and political activists.

He had once called each of them saying, “Follow Me,” and they responded. Peter left his fishing boat. Matthew left his lucrative financial career. Each one of them had dropped everything they had and threw their lot in with the Jewish carpenter who spoke words that resonated in their souls. And now he was leaving.

The rug was pulled from underneath their feet. The foundation they had built their lives upon was seemingly crumbling. Sorrow must have surged through their hearts, stealing their breath and closing their mouths. James and John, called the “Sons of Thunder” for their boisterous nature, now had nothing to say.

They had no religious practices to turn to. There were no best-seller books to read or conferences to attend. They didn’t have the luxury of piously flavored, religious distractions to occupy them in his absence. They couldn’t just walk back into the local Jewish synagogue after having experienced life with Jesus.

He had become the center and reason of their lives. Imagining life without his presence was inconceivable. It would have left them inconsolable.

Now we know the whole story. We know how Jesus rose from the dead, how he ascended to his Father in heaven, how the Spirit was poured out on Pentecost. But they did not. All they knew was that Jesus was going to be missing and it devastated them.

As I read this story, I have to ask myself how content am I to live without the presence of Jesus in my life. Can I go a day, a week, or a month without really missing his absence?

How many times have I left church services without experiencing his presence? Worse yet, how often have I quieted this inner disappointment by saying, “Well, we can’t always expect to feel his presence.” Worse still, how many times have I spoke this cheap excuse to others?

Are our standards so low that we can find contentment without the presence of Jesus? We can gather together, sing a few songs, and listen to a lengthy sermon – all without encountering the Person of Jesus Christ. What does that say about our form of Christianity?

I am done with living an emaciated life, starved from the presence of Jesus. I am finished trying to find contentment in the outward motions of “spiritual discipline” while my soul remains untouched by His presence.

There is one thing I want and it is Jesus – completely, entirely, exclusively, unashamedly Jesus.

“One thing I ask, this one thing I will seek, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord all the days of my life” (Ps 27:4).