I spent a couple of years in a serious depression. I was in it long enough that I didn't really know the difference anymore. I've tended towards depression for most of my adult life, but for most of that time I managed it, or at least thought I was managing it. I'm what you call a high functioning depressive. Even when it got really bad, I got work done. I met my obligations. I got out of bed every day. I knew there was hope. I just couldn't feel it. I didn't feel much at all.
My ability to function probably kept me, for many months, from getting the help I needed. Once I did, things started to change pretty dramatically. Emotions came back that I'd not truly felt for years. Bad news became easier to take. I found myself able to forgive some people and situations I'd been trying to forgive for years.
I found hope. I rediscovered the people I love.
I shared all this with my congregation. It felt risky. I felt exposed. It's not that I thought anyone would look down on me. This congregation is generally loving and accepting. I was more concerned about how this information would be interpreted by my critics.
When things go well in the church, ministers are often credited with that, even if they don't deserve it. And when things go badly, ministers often absorb most of the blame. For some people, the idea had already gained some traction that any problems we were having must have originated with me. I feared that some would take my admission of a personal problem as cause to dismiss every reform I'd ever tried to initiate. It would all be written off as a manifestation of my depression.
To be fair, the vast majority of people in our fellowship did not respond that way at all. There were a couple of people who had that "Now everything will be perfect" notion, as if the only thing that has ever stood in the way of our fulfilling God's will was me - a convenient if unrealistic conceptualization. But most people responded as I hoped they would. As friends. Friends who have often misunderstood me, but friends nonetheless.
It's been a number of months now, and what is changed is only as interesting as what has not changed. I feel love for people - people I knew, intellectually, that I loved, but couldn't feel it. I have more joy in my life, but I also get hurt more. I don't feel angry all the time, but in place of the anger there is sometimes pain. Problems and conflicts do not go away. I just look at them differently.
The failures of the modern church did not vaporize. They are still there. The prophet Jeremiah was probably a depressive. That didn't make him wrong about failures of his generation. It made people regard him as a serious pain in the ass, but it didn't make him wrong.
I find myself here, working alongside, and sometimes against, people I love, trying to fix what is broken, as best as I know how. With few exceptions, the Christians I've known are well meaning, loving, and moral people. But there has been a system failure. The church today is not formed or functioning in the way it was intended. We can do better, only by aspiring to Scripture and the ways of Christ, and not by adopting the methodology of another human church or by holding dogmatically to our previous experiences.
Like all families, we have our problems. Some among us regard me as one of the family therapists. Some regard me as one of the identified patients. In either case, the truth will set us free.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
The Church as We Wish to Know It
The most recent edition of Leadership Journal featured and article entitled, The "We" We Want to Be. It was a very thoughtful exploration of what spiritual maturity looks like from a collective church standpoint. I've given this a lot of thought over the years, and I find this to be one of the most challenging and frustrating aspects of ministry. To have any collective sense of direction or pattern of growth is nearly impossible in an organization so given to the societal norms of individualism.
If I, as a minister, or if we, as church leaders, attempt to establish a common direction or goal, it is generally rejected. Not necessarily in principle, but at least in practice. The goal may be accepted as healthy, Biblical, useful... it's just not my goal. So we all, as individuals, decide whether or not we will actively participate. I think many people would be offended by my even challenging this assumption, but how exactly is a body to function if all its parts determine their goals and purposes independently of one another?
People have accused me of being too controlling, and of trying to force my will upon the congregation. And I would be dishonest if I didn't acknowledge that I've as much capacity for selfish interest as anyone else. But I also have to conclude this assumption is largely rooted in the fact that I'm trying to craft a collective direction for people who are interested, primarily, in individual pursuits. That's not to say that we never come together to get things done. But I think we tend to do so on a very controlled and individualized basis.
So what, if any, "we" do we want to be? Some people seem to think of the church as primarily a social outlet. Some think of it more as a community service organization. I've known some who saw the church as a professional networking opportunity. Some regard the church as an opportunity for self improvement. Some seek constant encouragement, as if the church were a weekly motivational sales meeting. Some want the church to be their 24/7 therapy group. Some seek ritual and tradition. Some seek theological innovation. Some just chase around from church to church after whatever they find exciting. I know some churches so focused on evangelism that it's not church unless there is some kind of "come to Jesus" appeal made. Other churches are always focused on healing and miracles. Certain kinds of people seem to be drawn to these different environments and assume this is what church is supposed to be. So, where is there a collective direction?
If you could fashion some measurement device or survey, my guess would be that, in one form or another, most Christians will expect the church to facilitate their individual goals, growth, and direction. While the church has this potential, I don't see how it ever could have been considered its primary purpose.
Though it is entirely Biblical, one of the most offensive things you can do in the church today is actually expect people to put themselves second.
If I, as a minister, or if we, as church leaders, attempt to establish a common direction or goal, it is generally rejected. Not necessarily in principle, but at least in practice. The goal may be accepted as healthy, Biblical, useful... it's just not my goal. So we all, as individuals, decide whether or not we will actively participate. I think many people would be offended by my even challenging this assumption, but how exactly is a body to function if all its parts determine their goals and purposes independently of one another?
People have accused me of being too controlling, and of trying to force my will upon the congregation. And I would be dishonest if I didn't acknowledge that I've as much capacity for selfish interest as anyone else. But I also have to conclude this assumption is largely rooted in the fact that I'm trying to craft a collective direction for people who are interested, primarily, in individual pursuits. That's not to say that we never come together to get things done. But I think we tend to do so on a very controlled and individualized basis.
So what, if any, "we" do we want to be? Some people seem to think of the church as primarily a social outlet. Some think of it more as a community service organization. I've known some who saw the church as a professional networking opportunity. Some regard the church as an opportunity for self improvement. Some seek constant encouragement, as if the church were a weekly motivational sales meeting. Some want the church to be their 24/7 therapy group. Some seek ritual and tradition. Some seek theological innovation. Some just chase around from church to church after whatever they find exciting. I know some churches so focused on evangelism that it's not church unless there is some kind of "come to Jesus" appeal made. Other churches are always focused on healing and miracles. Certain kinds of people seem to be drawn to these different environments and assume this is what church is supposed to be. So, where is there a collective direction?
If you could fashion some measurement device or survey, my guess would be that, in one form or another, most Christians will expect the church to facilitate their individual goals, growth, and direction. While the church has this potential, I don't see how it ever could have been considered its primary purpose.
Though it is entirely Biblical, one of the most offensive things you can do in the church today is actually expect people to put themselves second.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Things I Cannot Change
I recently checked a friend into a long term alcohol treatment program. It got me thinking about the serenity prayer, especially that "things I cannot change" part. I've not had a very good track record for dealing with stuff I can't change. I've spent way too many nights lying awake worried about problems outside my ability to fix.
This week, a young couple with ties to our congregation lost their baby just two days before the delivery due date. I don't know them personally. I do know the family. I've done a lot of grief counseling over the years, and I've officiated at the funerals of people who went before their time. But I am at a loss to comprehend the kind of pain involved in losing a child. Like everyone else here, I suppose, I wish there was something more that could be done besides the offer of company and comfort. One of our members, a man who has been extremely close to this family for years and actually married the young couple, has been ministering to them as best he can. I've been praying for him, as well as for the family.
This week, a young couple with ties to our congregation lost their baby just two days before the delivery due date. I don't know them personally. I do know the family. I've done a lot of grief counseling over the years, and I've officiated at the funerals of people who went before their time. But I am at a loss to comprehend the kind of pain involved in losing a child. Like everyone else here, I suppose, I wish there was something more that could be done besides the offer of company and comfort. One of our members, a man who has been extremely close to this family for years and actually married the young couple, has been ministering to them as best he can. I've been praying for him, as well as for the family.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
A Good Weekend
I had a really good weekend. I think the church had a really good weekend. I preached a sermon on the impact Christian love should have on expectations and conflict resolution in marriage and in the church. It seemed to be well received. Of course, we all tend to fail to apply such messages to ourselves, so the ultimate impact of such a teaching is in the hands of the Spirit. But I think it is significant, at this point in our journey, that on the whole, the fellowship received this somewhat confrontational message without reading a lot of subtext into it.
But the real excitement this weekend was the Prince and Princess Ball. This was an event that is part of The Guild student and family ministry project. The students attend a formal medieval ball and are waited on by the adults. It was great fun for everyone involved, and we had plenty of volunteers to make it all happen. The kids were beautiful, the decorations were terrific, and a lot of people came together to make it all happen. I left the ball Sunday night feeling like this is what ministry is supposed to be like. I'm feeling grateful for our regular Guild volunteers, grateful for the extra volunteers that showed up, both for prep and the event, grateful for my wife and her talent in the kitchen, grateful for our congregation, grateful for all the smart and talented and compassionate kids we are blessed to have with us, and grateful to God for a wonderful evening.
The Ball was an answer to prayer on several different levels.
But the real excitement this weekend was the Prince and Princess Ball. This was an event that is part of The Guild student and family ministry project. The students attend a formal medieval ball and are waited on by the adults. It was great fun for everyone involved, and we had plenty of volunteers to make it all happen. The kids were beautiful, the decorations were terrific, and a lot of people came together to make it all happen. I left the ball Sunday night feeling like this is what ministry is supposed to be like. I'm feeling grateful for our regular Guild volunteers, grateful for the extra volunteers that showed up, both for prep and the event, grateful for my wife and her talent in the kitchen, grateful for our congregation, grateful for all the smart and talented and compassionate kids we are blessed to have with us, and grateful to God for a wonderful evening.
The Ball was an answer to prayer on several different levels.
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