I think I'm about to throw up.
I've felt this way all day. Today is decision day.
Do we follow God, or do we declare ourselves god.
God P L E A S E make yourself real to them.
I'm unable to empathize, or even sympathize with them. I cannot put myself in their shoes, to understand how they could possibly be turning their back on this new thing.
Heartbreaking. The chill in the air causes me to shiver, concealing the trembling.
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Flashback a few weeks:
There seems to be, in my own mind especially, a battle between church as we know it, and this new thing God's doing...
...perceived or not, denied or not, there's something shaking down in the deeps of the Body of Christ.
Certain statements and blanket comments and old-fashioned attitudes set off battles in my spirit, setting my neurons and my adrenaline levels into overdrive.
For example, recently someone asked a seemingly innocent question, about what if nasty weather had kept Mary and Joseph at home when Jesus was about to be born, obviously referring to nasty weather keeping people from church (building).
Innocent enough, sure.
Add in context, and it's not so any longer. I'll spare that detail.
Now, take into account the weather on the morning the question was presented: freezing cold, wet, rainy, patches of slick ice on the roads.
I put my myself into the mindset of the masses for a brief moment, and answer the question. "...Oh, you're right. How would I be displaying faith if I let the bad weather keep me home?" Or something like that.
As if our faithfulness is measured by our church attendance...
I know that there are church-goers everywhere who attend a church (building) every Sunday, without fail, (& scoff at those who don't, but that's besides the point).
Many believe, as they were taught by the 'faithful' before them, that your church attendance and the activities you're involved in at the church (building) is what shows your faithfulness.
Sadly, our church (building) attendance doesn't show how faithful we are, it shows how habitual we are.
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Driving home one night, I pass by all the beautiful homes and farms on the main roads. Decades of hard work have yielded the results I can see on this bright moonlit night.
I pass church (building) after church (building), some big, some small. Being part of a small church (building) myself, I understand to some human degree the mindset of the people in these communities who attend these churches (buildings). Self-preservation, work ethic, and a strong sense of "I worked for it", for lack of a better term, are common attitudes accepted and live by here.
Off the beaten, well-worn main roads, I pass by the side roads that are notorious for their drug activity, and the seemingly shady activities that have been known to occur there under the shadows of night.
Right on the corner, a church (building).
As I make the connection in my mind, I wonder what is is about the passing paradigm that keeps the people of the church (building) from reaching the people in these nefarious neighborhoods, keeping them separated.
As I'm wondering this, the angle of the moonlight illuminates row after row of headstones in the cemetery on the corner.
The irony is not lost on me.
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I struggle with my church (building). One-on-one with the people is no problem for me. Loving my neighbor isn't as much of a struggle as I thought it would be. (Turns out, I'm a people person.) I've been humbled many times, and been told by God to bite my tongue enough times to learn to listen. Really listen.
And in that listening, God's showing me that this particular body of believers is very much representative of how the un-churched world sees the church -as a whole.
When we're gathered together on Sunday mornings, we've started to idolize the building, and the people who attended the church (building) before us. We honor "God's house", careful not to take food or drinks into the sanctuary, because, after all, that's God's pew, and doggone-it, you're gonna respect God's stuff.
But we have no problem rolling our eyes at the person giving a testimony, and we have no problem letting everyone know our disgust at the people who are different from us. Or that the pastor went past noon again.
Or using disgusting and derogatory words for people when we think no one's listening. We have no problem spending money on something to put our names on, while people in our own congregation are going hungry.
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The Truth hurts. No matter who delivers it, what form it comes in.
It causes us to finally pay attention to the true justice we know deep down in our souls, but are either taught to ignore, or just flat-out choose to ignore, based on the amount of discomfort it causes.
Even worse, and more devastating than that, is when we ignore the Truth for what we've always done.
The Truth causes us to examine who we are, with all of our character flaws, our imperfections.
In the face of Truth, do we let it transform us, or do we turn our backs on it, and remain in our comfortable little lives, oblivious to the moves of Heaven, and our part in it?
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Where He goes, I will follow.
