"Where Would Jesus Worship?"

So, my blogging has been extremely off lately--especially when compared to what I used to be able to do with my Xanga account. My hope is to get into a habit of blogging several times a week and I'm hoping to set aside some time just for that--Constant Readers, if you're still out there, please be patient! Also, I realize there's an inherent irony in blogging about church on a day when I wasn't able to make it to worship services. Sometimes life's like that :-)

If you step into a Christian bookstore lately, you'll find that it's very cool to bash on the church these days.

The leaders of the Emerging Church--a movement I thought would have fizzled out by now--are always writing books about how spirituality is much more laudable than religion. George Barna has been busy gathering statistics and writing tomes about the death of traditional church as we know it. A look on the shelf at Family Christian Stores will likely show books about how to find the Gospel in "Twighlight" and "The Simpsons" and how Church can be enjoyed just as easily at Starbucks.

As the view of Christians in popular culture continues to diminish, it seems that even those within the body are prone to lash out. And while there is a place for prophetic preaching and warning about the sin that often exists in the church, I think there are some people who just have been hurt by the Body in the past or, for some reason, have an axe to grind with The Church and want people to run away from local congregations and into more user-friendly environment that goes easy on guilt, doesn't make a big deal out of sin and lets everyone experience "The Jesus Way" in their own way--although every one's "own way" seems to involve viewings of "The Matrix," and multiple listenings of "The Joshua Tree." (Full disclosure: I like both "The Matrix" and U2.)

I've even fallen into the trap myself--going from having a healthy skepticism about the behavior of believers to buying into the lie that the Church is diseased and dying; that the Church is doing more harm than good in our culture. I've bemoaned the Church's error of getting in bed with political parties, the attitude with which Christians have addressed the world and the legalism that often still runs rampant in congregations.

But at the end of the day, I have to realize that I still love the Church. It's Christ's Bride. It's the family I'm called into. It's the collection of broken and flawed people that, so help me, I love. The local church may have flaws and irritations but I think it's a beautiful, beautiful thing. It's a collection of broken people that meet regularly to celebrate the One who binds them together. In all its flaws and foibles, the Church is a beautiful thing and I'm getting a bit irritated with all the books and websites touting the end of "Churchianity" as we know it.

This hasn't been an out-of-the-blue realization. Earlier this year I attempted to leave the Church I had attended for seven years only to find myself returning because I love my flawed family too much. Just recently I finished DeYoung and Kluck's phenomenal book "Why We Love the Church," which is a celebration of the very Biblical and very necessary institution of the Church. And in my own quiet times I've been reading through Ephesians and been reminded time and again how God brought the Church together under Christ to glorify Him.

So, in the spirit of celebrating the Church, I'm undertaking a series of blog entries about the Church. I have no idea how many entries this will entail or whether I'm going to stick to straight-out theological concepts or my own personal musings...most likely a mixture of both. Neither will it be a daily post...instead I would like it to last through the month of November, culminating around Thanksgiving. Maybe it will simply become a recurring feature on this blog. We'll see.

For the first part, though, I would like to address this statement that I've heard several times and probably have even used myself.

It's the idea that if Christ was walking the Earth today, He would not belong to a Church but would spend His time in gay bars and on street corners ministering to sinners. After all, He saved his harshest words not for the whores and drunkards, but for the religious leaders of that time.

First, let me agree that there is truth in that statement. When we look at Christ's ministry in the New Testament, He absolutely sought out broken people. He wasn't worried about appearances...it didn't phase Him to be seen at dinner with a tax collector or forgiving an adulterous woman. He knew the need that those broken people had. And He knew that He had the cure for their sickness. And so He went to them. It's a beautiful reminder of Christ's mercy and compassion and something that we should celebrate and keep in our minds.

I definitely believe that were Christ walking around today, He WOULD visit those places. Christ would minister to the homosexual community. He would put His arm around a woman who just had an abortion. He would sit on Fred Phelp's door stoop and lovingly confront him about his hate. He would forgive the whores, call thieves and murderers to repent and remind all the desperate and needy about the hope that exists with Him.

And those who use this example as a reminder for where the Church should be ministering have a good point. Because the Church--the individual members of Christ's body--are the physical representation of Jesus to this world. And we should be willing to go where He would go and minister to those whom He would have us minister to--although, we must also remind ourselves that He was sinless and we are not...and move forward with humility and discretion.

But would Christ go at the expense of the Church?

I seriously doubt it.

Because Christ isn't physically walking the Earth these days, it's tough to address how this would look. After all, Christ is the head of the universal Church. Every believer on the planet is under His authority...so the question brings up all the little rabbit trail questions about would Jesus be a Baptist or Lutheran? Would He worship at an American church or one elsewhere? And what would it mean if He picked one church to settle at?

I'm not going to go off on a tangent with those because they're silly questions that are just distractions (although he would totally be Baptist ;-) ). The point I want to make is that I don't believe Jesus would come to Earth today, 2,000 years after His death and rip asunder the Church. He died for the Church. He loves the Church. He loves when people gather together in His name and worship Him. The Bible speaks volumes about the importance of the Church and--most importantly--Christ's headship and authority over it. Paul's letters were addressed to local congregations, the book of Revelation has Christ personally addressing seven churches and over and over we see commands to not forsake assembling, instructions for gathering for worship and communion and an organizational structure for the Church with offices for pastors, elders, deacons and teachers.

I say this because some people want to say "well, of course Christ loves the Church--His whole body of believers. But that means all the believers in the world; local congregations, organized religion and the idea of meeting together and having a structured organization with budgets, salaries and buildings runs contrary to the Bible." And that's just not what I see in Scripture. In Scripture I see commands for orderly meeting, reminders to meet regularly and offices for preaching and teaching the Word. Organized religion and meetings are practical. As for budgets and salaries and buildings? That's all practical.

And let's remember why Christ would be meeting with the gays, the whores, the adulterers and the thieves. It wouldn't be just to be build friendships. It would be to bring them into relationship with Him...that is to say, to bring them into the Church. Get them out of the bars and into a congregation. Off the street and into fellowship with Brothers and Sisters in Christ. Believers should absolutely go out into the world...and bring back those who will follow.

Much of what the anti-Church crowd suggests is not a bad thing on the surface. But it's empty when you dig deeper. Yes, they suggest going to gay bars to "minister." But many of those same authors hesitate to call homosexuality a sin...so their "ministering" is not a sharing of the Gospel at all but of building friendships and saying "see, Christians can be cool too. And we're not going to judge you or make you uncomfortable by using the 'sin' word."

And they would probably be shocked to see that Jesus would go into the bar, treat people with love and compassion...but also call them to repentance and tell them to leave their lifestyles. The anti-church group is all about the loving, merciful side of Jesus...but they absolutely forget that His love is a love one that exists in truth and His mercy exists because His holiness has made fellowship with Him impossible apart from Him. And if we know that the Bible preaches that all are sinners and sinners are damned to hell and the only hope they have is faith in Christ, which includes repentance...but we're not saying anything to them about that...are we really being that loving? (I want to unpack this issue further in a few days).

But what about the statement that Christ wouldn't want to be around the Church because of his distaste towards religious leaders?

Yes, Christ's harshest words were to the religious leaders of His day. And yes, when you're dealing with a collection of saved-sinners, there are always going to be pastors who are selfish and sinful---the Bible is full of harsh words toward them and I don't think Christ would bite His tongue at them today.

But let's remember that it wasn't simply "oh, these leaders are so irritating." It was that they were perverting what God had created, heaping heavy burdens on their followers and living lives of hypocrisy---keeping the outward law while, inward, they were evil and prideful.

Yes, if a pastor is living a life like that today, harsh words are in store...and the elders and congregation should not hesitate to bring them up. But I believe there are many pastors out there these days who preach the Gospel and cherish its truth, understanding that there is an offensive nature to it that can divide families and nations--and yet they preach passionately and lovingly shepherd their congregations. I think Christ would be seen with these people and would take time to fellowship with them regularly...because they are being the Church. They are worshipping Him and loving the Father by preaching what was accomplished on the cross. They are glorifying God...and nothing brings more joy to Christ than the glory of the Father.

Ironically, I think those in the anti-Church crowd would find harsh words in store for their false compassion...the way they want the church to only embrace social justice and play down the things of eternal consequence. The way they chide the church for not accepting sinners while not understanding that churches are flawed BECAUSE they already have sinners amongst them. I think Christ's words would be very harsh toward the Brian MacClarens and Rob Bells of the world, who are peddling what is at best a watered down Gospel and, at worst, heresy.

It fills me with great pleasure to think that Christ is merciful enough to fellowship with sinners. And they can be found everywhere---in the gay bars, on the street corners and in my own church. But it fills me with greater joy to realize that there is a set-apart body of believers who Christ loves intensely and passionately. They are the Church and I'm humbled and amazed to be a part of it.

--CW

Fatty Falls Down

Everybody likes it when Fatty falls down--Chris Farley

Just this weekend, I finished reading the book "The Chris Farley Show." Written by the late comedian's brother Tom Farley, the book is a touching, funny and deeply tragic look at a man who was beloved by many and died way too young. This isn't intended to be a review, but I'll just say this: it's one of the most affecting reads I've had all year.

Pretty much everyone who knew and worked with Farley his entire life--including many of his SNL cast mates--comments in it. It's not a rose-tinted book at all but a brutally honest remembrance of a man who loved to make people laugh, had a deep religious and charitable nature and yet could not control the demons within him. It's one of the most heartbreaking looks at addiction I've come across, especially because it leaves you with no answers. For one, there's no happy ending. And secondly, there's no one who can ask "why didn't anyone do anything" because people tried everything to get Farley off drugs. Whether he had a death wish, wanting to be like his idol John Belushi, is up for debate--and both sides are presented in the book. But what's not up for debate is that Farley was stubborn and had one of the most addictive personalities in the world.

I always loved watching Chris Farley work. He may have lacked the wit of David Spade or the impressionistic chops of Will Ferrell and Phil Hartman, but he was such a charismatic force of nature that it was impossible not to smile at his work. He could get laughs just by hitching up his pants as Matt Foley, rubbing Adam Sandler's leg in the wonderful Zagat's sketch ("ravioli? Holy canoli!") or asking Paul McCartney "remember when you were with the Beatles?" Physically, he was a bull in the comedic china shop and yet he moved with a surprising grace--you can debate whether the famous Chippendales sketch with Patrick Swayze was mean-spirited or not but watch him throw himself into that and try not to laughs. His movie's were hit and miss: I think "Black Sheep" has its moments and that "Beverly Hills Ninja" is one of the worst things ever. But I truly think "Tommy Boy" is something special. Yes, it's a stupid movie. But there's a real heart beating in there that I think a lot of people over look and, had he lived, I think there's a chance Chris could have broken out of his "fat guy" humor and become someone like John Candy, who was funny not because he was fat but because of the characters he created. Farley was hoping to do a Fatty Arbuckle biopic at the time of his death that was widely-believed to be a film that could have shown another side of him.

But alas, we'll never know because Farley loved to live too hard. It's heartbreaking to read the book and recall how his first drink in high school was immediately followed by a binge. It's hard to read about how hard he worked to stay sober through his time on SNL and when on a film set...and then how one relapse and the fear of failure caused him to throw away all that hard work. And it's so sad to hear people remember how there were two Chris's: one the guy who genuinely loved people and always sought out the person who was ignored and disenfranchised...and the drug addict who could be filled with rage, self-loathing and fear.

Coincidentally, earlier this year I also read David Scheff's powerful memoir "Beautiful Boy," about how Scheff coped with his son's addiction to meth. What is so heartbreaking about both books is that they are not written from a distance or told with a clinical dispassion. These tales are told by friends and family members of those who have suffered with addiction. In nearly every page you can hear the heartbreak of watching drugs take over their loved one's personality and the hatred of what addiction does to a person.

I consider myself very blessed to have a life that has been free of much exposure to substance abuse. I've never smoked a cigarette and, in terms of drinking, I rarely have anything alcoholic--and if I do, it's usually one drink. Thankfully I've also been fortunate enough not to have many friends who have succumbed to drug addiction (I'm including alcohol in here because it is a drug whose effects are just as serious as anything else). But I've seen friends who have dealt with addicts and I've watched just how that tears them apart.

I have traditionally had a very low empathy for addicts. Addiction is such a selfish thing and I have a hard time feeling bad for someone who willingly starts trying something they know has the potential to kill them. Watching someone in the throes of addiction is a window into life at its most pathetic and wasted, even when they think the substance is making them happy. But more than anything, I think it's just a rotten and selfish situation that rips apart families. It's definitely not a victimless crime--talk to anyone who has had a family member or friend struggle with addiction and you will hear stories of heartbreak, anger and resentment that leaves no one unscathed.

But I'm beginning to realize that much of my discomfort and anger at addicts comes from a hypocrisy and shame in myself. Because while I have not dealt with substance abuse, I am an addict in my own right.

Addiction is genetic and we're all affected by it. I'm addicted to sin and I struggle with that each and every day. As I read about how someone relapses just because they think they can handle "just one drink" or "it just happened," a part of me cringes because it sounds so familiar. I am addicted to self. My drugs are fear, pride, lying, selfishness, anger and cynicism. And I give into them so easily. Even when I think I've made progress and I'm celebrating my own sobriety, I'm just two seconds away from a relapse as I lash out again or run to self.

What always intrigues me about stories of addiction is that addicts are never able to help themselves. They think they can go cold turkey or survive under their own willpower, but sooner or later they hit a breaking point. They need rehab, medication, sponsorship. The best way to say it--they need intervention. Outside help that will support them, show them just how big of a screw up they are and then encourage them that help is possible.

Sin addicts--which we all are--are hopeless causes on their own. Our addiction, which manifests itself in myriad ways, leads not only to physical death but to eternal suffering. On our own we're not going to overcome this addiction--at best we're just going to put on a mask of false sobriety. Without the intervention of the cross, we have no hope. But with the cross, with that justification, we are given a hope that doesn't fail.

Every recovering alcoholic or addict will never tell you that they've recovered. They still are addicts. Because even though they may not be using, they're still compelled and weak. The condition of a Believer is similiar, except that once we are justified we no longer fear an eternal death. But we still are prone to sin, prone to wander and prone to relapse. Sanctification is a hard, often painful and lifelong process. There's no "zap" moment. No sudden infusion where you're a better Christian and suddenly unshakable. No "levels" of Christianity. You don't die to self in your sleep. It's a battle, becoming more like Christ, and it requires the constant strength of God, the support of fellow believers and the recognition that we can't do anything on our own. Maybe instead of thinking of church services like concerts, lectures or business meetings we'd be good to think of the Church more like an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, where we're brutally honest about our sin, our inability to overcome on our own and the constant struggle and support we need each and every day.

--C