Ladies and Gentlemen, We Have Decided to Pee

Waiting to make a decision, as it turns out, is making a decision. In the past several months (probably stretching back over the course of many years, in reality), Heather and I have talked about what it means to be the church. Our views and convictions have been shaped and solidified, but we felt unsure what the next step would be. I really felt like we were damned if we did, damned if we didn't, stuck between a rock and a hard place...and all that proverbial stuff.

The issue came down to one simple, sizable event: the completion of our "church's" four million dollar, brand spankin' new building. The first time we attempted to worship in it, I could not stop laughing, and Heather could barely keep from crying. It was beautiful, polished, and a dazzling production--and that made both of us uneasy.

Now let me pause to say two things. First, for any who might read this and think I'm bashing our church: please don't get me wrong, I am proud of Hillside and its leadership for following the direction they feel called to by God. "Different strokes for different folks," as they say. It takes all kinds of "churches" to reach all kinds of people. May God bless them as they are obedient to him.

Second, for any who can't see a problem yet: $4 million was just the cost to finish construction. Several years back, while looking at the budget for another amazing church, which we still love and respect, Irving Bible Church, we realized that something like $30,000 a month was being spent on utilities. A month. Utilities. That did not sit well with me.

So there we were, feeling like we, as individual followers of Jesus, would have difficulty attending/contributing to such a "church", and feeling like there was no where to turn. Where is it done differently? Even small "churches" are into the same things and doing things the same ways. Start-ups? Same. Emergent? Same (but with more candles, and hipper vibes). Older, dying churches? Same (but somehow seeming more authentic and somehow still endearing to me). So what did we do? Well, as Francisco D'Anconia asked Hank Reardon, "What would you say to Atlas if you saw him holding the world, legs buckling, bruised and bleeding?" Many today, like Reardon, feel, "What could you say? That's the way it is." We agreed more with Francisco: "I'd tell him to shrug." So we did. We took our ball and went home. We decided we weren't going to play, if that's how the game went. (I realize I'm sounding pretty rotten and selfish at this point, but I trust you'll understand it is simplification, forgive me, and keep reading.)

Well we went home, but there was nothing waiting for us there. That's the hard place compared to the rock we just left. And my parents wisely counseled that we needed to keep our kids connected to the church. And our kids themselves started asking, "Why don't we go to "church" anymore?" And we told them it was because we are the church (hence all the quotations used around that word prior to this point), and we were working on a better way to be that or do that...or something. And my brother wrote about the lack of anything new in ministry (or anything really, according to Solomon), just as we were thinking we were pretty slick and knew it all and had come up with all the answers.

But it was precisely at this moment that we first met with Darrell and his house church. "Organic ministry" they call it. (That's something of a buzz word these days, so I'm naturally inclined to hate it, but that's the name, nonetheless.) He encouraged us. His thoughts and reflections, along with the other godly people mentioned above, helped refine and humble us. Still, we also felt affirmed and emboldened. We knew we were on the right track.

So today, just as my brother has once again offered his spot-on assessment of changes in ministry, we met with Darrell again and committed to enter into a coaching relationship with him. Essentially, we are "starting a church." We have decided to pee, and not get off the pot and go back to a conventional congregation.

Now it makes me very nervous to say we're "starting a church." I think it is because I have all those associations which might be expected from growing up in "the church." I feel I need sanctioning from a denominational body. I become afraid of failure, for something like 80% of church plants never get going and die. I wonder about how I'll have time to plan, where we'll meet, what we'll do, what will be available for the kids, etc. etc. But I think the clincher today was that what we are endeavoring to do will be something else entirely.

Ever seen "The Blue Brothers"? At one point they say, "We won't get caught, we're on a mission from God." One of my favorite t-shirts bears their faces and that saying. I'm adopting the emblem of the Blues Brothers, because that sums up my feelings. We are simply recommitting to the mission of Jesus. We plan to be intentional about all relationships; prayerful and determined to bring the presence of God with us into those things we are already doing. I know this may sound crazy, and I expect to take some flack for it, but that's our hope. We plan to see God call unbelievers to himself. We plan to study his word and pray with others. We plan to make disciples who make disciples. We plan to fellowship with others as we enjoy mutual pasttimes. We plan to worship, alone and together. What is freaky, and what will get people concerned, no doubt, is that this is not structured. There is no weekly time allotment for this way of living. So on this point, I will concede that we have given up on "church." But if you read what we are doing, can anyone say that we are not living as the church?

I am not so foolish as to think I've got it all together. I am very fearful of Hebrews 10. I'm very fearful of lethargy and self-delusion. Quite frankly, I am scared of "returning to ministry." I feel very unequal to the task, not even sure if God would be right in using me. But at a certain point we all must pee of get off the pot. If you're a believer, you can't decide to "go to church" but neglect the Great Commandment (Mt. 22:37) and Great Commission (Mt. 28:18-20). We can't leave that up to the paid clergy. The only way I ever "left the ministry" was in allowing myself to become selfish and complacent. If you're a believer you cannot...or at least should no...leave the ministry. That's the mission we're all called to. To love others, to serve them, to meet them in their darkest places and deepest needs and bring them to (get ready for this...hold on to your hats) JESUS...not "the church." When they know and love HIM they become the church, and where they gather with others is their meeting; how they live is their worship. I want to be on that mission...not sit complacently in my dutiful spot. "We're on a mission from God."

Thanks for reading. If you haven't heard the progression of our thinking lately, I hope I didn't shock you too completely! If you love me and are concerned about my salvation, I hope we talk soon. If you feel like you need to share something with me, express concerns, offer insight or provide any type of edification that might lead to my greater service to the King, please comment or call. I love you all. Let's fight the good fight.