January 21, 2015
Sometimes I feel like an orphan in this world.
Yes, I have family, and I have friends that are as close as family, but at times, I feel so alone. I love Emily, and this is nothing against her. And I am not saying this from a depressed standpoint. But I see other people and the association they have with their family and it’s something I’ve never really had. That closeness—that community.
Maybe that is why I dove into church so heavily, because in it I saw what I wanted and never had. And as a result, I have forged strong and meaningful relationships from that time in my life.
But what about now?
I believe family and church are supposed to be modeled after the concept of community and I think our national culture is completely contrary to that objective. I want a church, I want a family, I want a community, that cares for me and is there for me. Not because they are supposed to or because they feel obligated to, but because they love me and are in relationship with me and are genuinely concerned for my well-being.
I want to be apart of a family, a church, a community, where I don’t do for others, or am there for others, or help others, merely out of a sense of responsibility or requirement, but out of a sense of love and compassion.
I want a church that is so modeled after Christ that He wouldn’t feel like He had to come back, because we finally “get it”.
But that is going to take changing people’s mind sets. It’s going to take unlearning culture and developing something…different. I would say new, and it likely would be new to us, but based on something old; what He’s already taught us.
I want a church that cares. About people. About me. About you. Not about who the best minister is, or how anointed this series is, or how great the worship is, or how awesome the coffee is. I don’t want a club or a clique.
In the Book of Acts, the apostles put more emphasis on and spend more time meeting needs than simply preaching an anointed message. Sometimes we get so caught up on gifting and anointing and calling that we lose track of the why. Why do we have these things? It is interesting how “apostle” was a calling, not a vocation. This culture has us so money-minded that we want to tie money to our purpose. Notice how Paul was an apostle and a tanner.
I wish we could get to a place where we could walk in our purpose and not worry if it fits the mold or not. I wish we didn’t feel like we have to try to force something that’s not supposed to be simply because everyone else does it that way. Why can’t we just love people and do what He’s called us to do?
I want a church/family/community that I can touch.
When Jesus was training His disciples, was it just on Sunday’s and Wednesdays? Was it Monday-Friday, 8-5? No; every waking moment they were with each other. Jesus could do nothing but be Himself. Our families know us. The good, the bad, and the ugly, and they still love us and are there for us. Our community should be like that.
The opposite of fear is love, “for there is no fear in love, for perfect love cast off fear.” Let us not fear being authentic. May we pray that we can have a community that accepts us and loves us because they want to, not because they have to. And when the world sees this fleshed out, it will have a greater effect of evangelism than the most anointed preacher could ever preach.