A good friend of ours, a respected psychotherapist, was conducting a seminar recently when she was interrupted by (supposedly Christian) hecklers objecting to the Biblical view of gender and sexuality she was presenting. With great presence of mind, she steered her way through the storm and landed her plane safely and with grace.
This is my question. On that occasion, who were the radicals and who were the traditionalists? The answer may not be as obvious as it seems.
Most leaders start off as visionaries but wind up as managers. Or worse, as drop-outs.
I realize that’s a sweeping statement. And maybe one made to catch your attention. But I believe there is truth in it.
As a young man, I had an enormous vision for God. It propelled me to do all sorts of things that were way beyond my comfort zone and my ability. Some of those things were more successful than others, but at least I got out of the boat and headed out onto the water.
And then the waves hit, just like they did with Peter. We criticize Peter for getting his eyes off the Lord and beginning to sink, but at least he got out of the boat! The others sat in their seats and watched.
The building in the photograph doesn’t look like much. In fact, it doesn’t even exist any more. But it has quite a story to tell. And something to teach us about building the church and extending the kingdom.
I’ve been thinking a lot about buildings lately.
Here in southwestern Michigan, where we have spent a large part of the winter, the church has completed a major addition to the building, which in turn has enabled us to knock out the walls of the original structure, which is only ten years old, to create a much larger auditorium. This has created lots of excitement as it nears completion. And the Lord will use it in all sorts of ways.
Leaving a church can be like committing spiritual divorce.
Have I got your attention?
I evidently got the attention of the group I was teaching last week, to the point I had to make a lengthy clarification of my comments the next time the group was together.
The (very fair) question came back at me: “Then is it ever right to leave a church?” Obviously the answer is yes. Once-thriving churches can start to die. They can begin to teach wrong doctrine. Leadership can go off the rails. Sometimes job relocation or other circumstance means we have to change church. And sometimes it is just not a spiritual fit. But all these things do not change the fact that people leave churches far too often for the wrong reasons, leaving a trail of hurt and brokenness behind and taking the same baggage with them, which sadly results in them often leaving the next church as well.
Thirty-seven years ago, with the help of a brave band of a dozen university students, I started a church in the cathedral city of Durham in northern England. At the time, the situation looked totally bleak. Everything was ranged against us. We had no money. Hardly anyone even had a job. I had been falsely accused of being involved in a cult. The university launched an inquiry, and I was nearly thrown out of my PhD programme. All the pastors of the town were upset with me for overturning the ecclesiastical applecart, fearing that my new church would steal their members, which was never my intention.
I had given up my scholarship, funded by the Canadian government, in an act of faith that God would provide. I felt he had called me to do something significant in England, yet I had arrived at a place of desperation where it seemed I had hit a brick wall. There were moments when it looked pretty dark.
