I tend to feel opposed to the organized church. In theory. Yet I have not parted ways with it, I have simply found the *least* organized church I can find. It isn’t as unorganized as it used to be, but it still beats everything else. If I parted ways with her entirely, I would lose significant face time with a number of people that are very important to me. So far, I haven’t been able to take that last step.
I remember having a discussion with my mother years ago about my waning faith in organized religion and the validity of institutions. After some very brief discussion, she said, “but it’s all we have.”
I’ve heard it suggested that the organization is a necessary crutch. We don’t *really* need it to fulfill biblical principles, yet many people in our modern culture would not participate without it. That is, they simply would not gather together in community unless there was a liturgy - an ordered service of… stuff… a clearly defined beginning and ending serving as bookends to a predictable experience that caters to the largest sample of personal preferences possible.
You know. Church.
I submit the following for your consideration: the modern organized church “runs” on a blended fuel of legalism and professionalism. Ultimately, we perceive that attending Sunday morning services fulfills part of an obligation we have to God. We perceive we are duty bound to “go to church” - and “church” only counts if someone is counting. Plus, the better the service looks and sounds, the more people will receive what God is trying to say to them, so we’re obligated to be perpetually raising the bar on… everything.
Before I go on, I want to establish that I firmly believe the organized church does many good things, and does them very well. For example, when a crisis arises, people cook meals, arrange for child care, provide transportation, give money, pray, talk and generally support the folks suffering at a level that is nothing short of miraculous. It truly shows the love of God. We do crisis very well.
But that stuff happens because people take responsibility upon themselves to spring into action, not because of a liturgy, speaking style, music style, vision statement or anything else. Can I get an Amen on that?
I think the other stuff is really … kinda… peripheral. More than peripheral, the focus on it is harmful when, in the absence of crisis time (when all the unimportant stuff evaporates anyway) that stuff really divides us. Example: the last time I led worship, I was approached by a couple of different people. One said, “I saw the electric guitar and drums and thought you were going to rock out, but you played it safe. Don’t do that next time.” Another said, “I really felt like you were talking from your heart. I think God used you.” Later I came to hear that there were other less flattering opinions about the music - that it *had* been too loud and that I said things that revealed a bad attitude - a personal character failing on my part. Talk about going from a sense of victory to a sense of meaninglessness in 5.5 seconds.
I was telling the story about how, when I was very young and didn’t know how to “do a worship service right” - we had a standing policy that anyone who wanted to could lead worship. Seriously. You had to come to practice and stuff, but we’d do the songs you wanted to do, order the music portion the way you wanted to order it, and give you the big boy mic. I’m sure it made for some very “amateur” sounding worship sets. But it was a practice in freedom, which to this day I think is a great thing. I know lots of folks disagree with me, but I say let’s be amateur. There is something about being amateur that lends authenticity to who you (plural y’all) really are. That is not to say that the more accomplished musicians should “play down” - it’s to say let everyone be themselves.
This kind of thing was not my idea. I adopted the approach because it was standard operating procedure at the church I attended circa 1996. However, it was actually a pretty hip thing, in all of it’s serendipitous glory. The type of people who were attracted to this kind of thing were typically well on their way to seeing the value in some pretty extraordinary things. There was an unusual agreement on several priorities: Jesus, children, community. Largely absent were burdensome concerns about church growth, professional delivery (chuckle), or the finer points of musical or preaching styles or whether someone’s attitude was ‘not quite appropriate’. I’d say we had a bit more grace floating around back then. We had to. In essence, life was simply happening - together. Life didn’t need to be pumped up on evangelical purpose-driven steroids, it was purpose driven just like it was. Life was …a way of life.
Today I find myself committed to an idea that doesn’t seem to be around anymore. It’s not that I’m opposed to organization per se, I’m just opposed to having any more of it than is absolutely necessary. I don’t want any more rules than I really need. Does anybody? What does your heart tell you? That Frodo is alive. Yes, yes, he is alive. Or forget your heart. What does the Bible tell you?
Once an organization has… modernized… can it really go back again? Is it even right to want to make it go back? One solution is to simply get back to life together - at least as much as is possible. It won’t be quite the same, but then nothing ever is the same apart from God. Life can still happen together even in spite of an organization that may have other priorities. So that’s what I’m trying to do: just let life happen, together, again.
