I’ve been thinking more and more about my recent conversation with my minister. My last post focused on my reactions to it. I was more confused and frustrated with church afterwards than I was going in. Later, I prayed earnestly about it and gained some (much needed) perspective from God on it, but I’ve thought more and more about what he said during that lunch.
He shared about his frustrations in getting help. I was critical of his being a one man show and he felt like he’s been trying to get people involved and get their opinions, but has gotten little back. Now, I may disagree on how well he’s sought that input, but I could see how he felt he was and how it was frustrating to him. I realized since then that I’ve been critical of his shortcomings, but I haven’t been trying to help him overcome them like I should. He has weaknesses in terms of communication and confronting people. That’s what I’ve been critical of him for, and rightfully so I think. But I realized that he’s kind of been alone in that folks don’t come challenge him on this kind of stuff much, if at all. If they do speak up, they (like me) may like to complain and attack, but they don’t go to him and confront him on it and work with him to help him change it. When he and I talked, I heard a man who loves God and His church and who’s trying to figure stuff out too. He’s trying to lead, but without a real support system, just folks like me throwing rocks (or talking behind his back). He’s got weaknesses and needs folks to confront them. I’ve apologized to him for my critical heart and I’ve decided to be that person for him.
On a bigger picture, I’ve realized that our church has developed a ‘hands off’ culture. Where we in the ICOC used to be intimately involved with each other, we no longer are. I’ve seen people hurting with no one stepping in to comfort them, stand by them and help them or help them find help. I’ve seen situations where two people have a disagreement, but there’s no resolution. They complain about it to others, sometimes anonymously and sometimes not, but when told to go try to work it out they don’t want to. In other cases, it’s one person seeing the sin of another, complaining about it or even gossiping. But when told to confront the person, they will not go either. In both situations the people involved say that it’s not worth it to confront. It will turn out badly or it hurts too much to deal with. I’ve told brothers before that I’ll go with them, back them up, but they still won’t go. I know that it hurts to think about confronting someone and about how badly it might go, but the damage to individuals and the church his enormous when we don’t. The feelings fester and grow and destroy what God has given us. Worse, it cultivates a culture of judgment, distrust and disunity, all enemies of God’s church.
On the other hand, when we gather up the courage to go and confront a difficult and painful situation, amazing healing can happen. In fact, the outcome is usually so much more than we can imagine that we are left to only stand in awe of God. What was an adversarial situation or a distant relationship can turn into best of friends. What was divisive become uniting. I’ve found that most of the time, when I confront someone who loves God on their sin, they are so amazingly grateful that I cared enough to challenge them that I’m left to wonder why I was so hesitant. They are longing, desperately it seems, to have someone speak the truth to them in love (Ephesians 4). Sometimes it does go badly, and it hurts. But even then, I can be somewhat satisfied and content because I did something.
I wish I knew how to change this culture in my church. I suspect know that there is no magic switch. We can teach on this and instruct people (and need to more, I think), but it will take a decision on each individual’s heart to pursue this change. What I can do is commit myself to lovingly confronting the sin I see in my brother’s life, address the hurts with those who have hurt me and aggressively pursue reconciliation at all times. In that, hopefully I can make a difference.

Tonight I just had to get out. I actually felt it yesterday, but I let things get in the way. I hadn’t done this in a long time, and I was over due. So I left the house from about 9:20 – 9:55 and just prayed.
I haven’t written much about church lately. That’s been deliberate. I’ve been pretty discouraged about it, and I just didn’t know what I could say. Since my last post about 2 month ago, the deacons meetings have stopped. This was after our minister told the deacon’s group that he was the leader, and that he didn’t think that a team approach was the right way to go. He also spoke about needing help, wanting more input from us and others as we went forward. Since that time, we’ve had a couple of meetings together, but nothing recently.
I met with him for lunch on Saturday. I’ve been wanting to get with him for weeks, but couldn’t work it out (and I chickened out). He’s been gone overseas visiting the church we sponsor in Indonesia for about 2 weeks. One of the reasons I haven’t written about this was because I didn’t want to express my feelings publicly until he and I had an opportunity to talk.
So we finally were able to meet on Saturday. After some chit chat, I expressed how I felt that my fears over what he had said back in December about being in charge seem to be coming true. The deacons, in my mind the ones that should be his inner circle, weren’t being included or sought out for advice. It felt that he was just doing his own thing. I knew he wanted input and was probably getting some from somewhere, but it wasn’t from us. As far as official leadership in the church goes, it’s him, the campus minister and the deacons. We have no elders right now, that’s it. We also talked about some other dynamics that have been going on with giving out responsibility and accountability.
After I had said my piece, he expressed to me how this was a complete surprise to him. He had been feeling the opposite – that he was really trying to include people in the decision making. He had been asking for people to give their opinions, but had gotten little response. He had handed out responsibility, but people hadn’t really taken it. He was honestly trying, but felt unsupported. Ouch.
I left that conversation more hurt and confused than I was going in. I had hoped to break some ground, that there would be some recognition of sin and a change going forward. What I was left with was a bigger picture of the weakness in my church. Certainly, I think there are some things that could be done differently to help the situation (which we talked about and he acknowledged), but the magic bullet solution wasn’t there. What I was left with was a picture of a dis-unified, self absorbed, apathetic church. (That does not describe everyone, and is probably over the top, but it was the picture I saw right then.)
I had longed to have this conversation because I had thought that I could then get this off of my chest. That I could relieve the burden I had been carrying. But instead, I felt it even more! I was carrying the weight of the health of the church on my shoulders. I wanted to run and hide.
I should have gotten out and prayed last night, but I didn’t. Tonight, as I snapped at the kids, I knew that I couldn’t put it off. I had tried to pray in my home late on Sunday, but there were too many distractions. There’s nothing like a good walk and talking to God. So off I went.
I cried out to God, I ranted and raved. I asked why? What was the point of it all? What was being a Christian about, anyway? What was I to do? Was it my problem or just my pride to think I had an answer? I just want to serve Him. Was He putting this burden on me or was I taking up of my own? Was it up to me to fix the church? Who was I to think I could fix my church? I began to think maybe I was insane as I walked my neighborhood streets, talking out loud, crying and flipping back and forth emotionally. I asked over and over and over what I was to do with this.
I have this route I walk when I pray. It helps to go the same way every time, then there’s nothing new to distract me from my time with God. I was about two blocks from home and I felt just as burdened and anxious as when I had started. I began to feel like maybe I wasn’t going to get any answers (which made me more discouraged.) May be this wasn’t really me and God after all, maybe it was just all psychological therapy and I wasn’t doing it right. I told God that time was short and I needed help. I had committed myself to Him 17 1/2 years ago and I wasn’t going to give up, but I felt like I didn’t know which way to go anymore, and I couldn’t go on like this. What do you want me to do!?!
Just give yourself to my people
OK. It was weird, it just came to me. And I was peaceful about it, not anxious. (I always look at stories like this as I they’re a bit wacko, but I had been acting a bit wacko, so it’s probably appropriate.)
But what about the leadership?
Just give yourself to my people.
But what does that mean for me as a Deacon?
Just give yourself to my people.
What about…
Just give yourself to my people.
I began to think about the folks in the houses around me, acquaintances. No, I’m not talking about them. Those aren’t your problem or responsibility, let Me worry about them. I can take care of my wife, my kids, my close friends at church, the other deacons, my minister. Beyond that I have neighbors and coworkers; I can take care of them. It all sounds a bit hokey right now, but at that moment it was just what I needed. At that moment, it was the perspective that I needed and brought me peace (Although typing it has made me a bit anxious again. It sounds just plain cheesy.)
I had about a block left to go, so I prayed about those people. I prayed about my girls, that I’d be a better Dad like God was to me. I prayed for my wife, that I could be her partner, teammate, not another kid to care for. I prayed for two couples in church that are in counseling, but largely without the support of friends in the church, that they’d see the best in each other and hang in there. I prayed for my friend who lives far away, far from any church family, in the middle of nowhere, that he and his family would be OK. And I prayed that I’d remember Just give yourself to my people. because I already had started to forget.
And I arrived home with a proper perspective and much less burdened.