Ownership

Well, here it is the middle of August, and I haven't posted a word since mid-June. As bloggers go, I'm afraid I've not been very diligent. But I do have something on my mind that might be worth sharing:

My wife wondered aloud this afternoon, as we left our Sunday morning assembly, "I wonder if there's anyone's toes you didn't step on today?"

She's probably right, though I didn't set out to offend. I've just got a bee in my bonnet about ownership. It's been a pet peeve of mine for some time. I cringe every time I hear someone saying that the way to motivate people in ministry is to give them ownership. This corporate culture notion of ownership is about as far removed from Scripture as you can get. And yet our culture is so enamored with ownership as a concept, that we tend to accept this advice with little thought.

Lately I've become frustrated with just how pervasive the notion of ownership has become. It occurs to me that the things we use to define church are all rooted in ownership. The things that frustrate me about organized religion: the focus on facilities, budgets, attendance, and hierarchy, all speak to our desire to own and control the church. Consider: If we speak of a church "closing its doors" the assumption is that congregation no longer exists. Its members must disperse to other places. Now, how is it that closing the doors of a building is so readily equated with ending the fellowship of a congregation? When did the external conveniences of church, such as an owned meeting place, become the church itself?

It goes much further than this, of course. Our denominational identities allow us to slap a brand name on the church, guaranteeing to some extent that we will be able to control membership and the content of our worship. This is exclusively about our ownership and control, as far as I can tell. Which is, I suppose, no big deal if the church is just a human religious organization, as so many people see it. But if it is of diving origin, then such attempt to own and control it are out of line.

I've not had much success pursuing this point of view, to be honest. I've no particular interest in being identified with any particular denomination, but some in our fellowship still experience strong ties to the denominational identity. What scares me about this is that I believe God's Spirit is quenched by our ownership and control. It's like we are asking God to work through our structure and our plans, rather than us responding to His.