The Evangelical Presbyterian Church (EPC) has four governing bodies, called courts, that exercise discipline and give moral order to the Church. They are the Board of Deacons, the Church Session, the Presbytery, and the General Assembly. Ruling Elders represent a particular congregation in the Church Session, the Presbytery, and General Assembly. The Ruling Elders generally spend the majority of time serving the Session of a particular church, which has jurisdiction over the church’s worship and ministry. The Session oversees the entire life of the congregation, including spiritual conduct, evangelism, oversight of members, and budgetary matters. The pastor serves as moderator for the Session, and it consists of two ruling elders (laity) for every Teaching Elder (ordained minister). Particular churches in the EPC are of, by, and for the people of God for the purpose of giving God glory. Qualifications for Ruling Elders are based on Scripture.
Ruling Elder Qualification: The Ruling Elder must be a mature Christian with experience in the congregation and who has faithfully served the church for a suitable period of time. The age and gender of the Ruling Elder are left to the discretion of the particular church. Most important are the person’s relationship with Jesus Christ, and his or her character and sensitivity to the needs of the congregation. In Scripture we read, "Now the overseer is to be above reproach, faithful to his wife, temperate, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, able to teach, not given to drunkenness, not violent, but gentle, not quarrelsome, not a lover of money” (1 Tim 3:2-3 TNIV). Such describes an enlivened faith expressed relationally in personal relationships and with members in the body of Christ. Ruling Elders must honor Christ in all that they do.
Ruling Elder represent the people in two ways:
1) The Ruling Elder is called to represent the people to Christ. The Ruling Elder is called to be an overseer of the flock in action, in word and in deed. James 5:14 says “Is any sick among you? Let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord.” Thus, the church seeks prayer and the elders pray for the sick, afflicted, and troubled. Of course, God's power is not limited to the elders of the church, but it is the calling, duty, and privilege of the elders to pray for the body (the church) at all times. When a church member asks for prayer, God honors the person who asks and he blesses the elders who are faithful to his command. God has the power and desire to heal—spiritually, emotionally, and physically—and he does so as we pray, love, and obey him. When given the spiritual gift of leadership, the Ruling Elder’s desire “is to lead, (and to) do it diligently” (Rom 12:8b TNIV).
2) The Ruling Elder is called to represent the people in the church courts. The Ruling Elder spends the majority of time serving in the Session. Often decisions of the Session affect the day-to-day church life, but many decisions affect the church for many years to come. Decisions for the church are made by a majority vote and with a prayerful seeking of God’s wisdom, Who supplies perfect direction. The Ruling Elder has significant say in church matters, for with a two to one ratio of RE to TE, Ruling Elders have majority membership in the Session. Nothing can be done without the concurrence of the ruling elders. As a representative of the congregation, RE listen to the people and honor their desires to do God’s will in and for his church.
Furthermore, a Ruling Elder is God’s Steward in and outside of the church (Titus 1:7). He or she has a “good reputation with those outside the church, so that he will not fall into reproach and the snare of the devil” (1 Tim 3:7). Our strongest desire to honor God in all that we do and say and to serve his Church.
Mr. Sam Searcy
Ruling Elder
Cherry Hills Community Church
Highlands Ranch, Colorado
dcmi@ix.netcom.com
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
T.U.L.I.P
In 1610, the followers of Jacob Arminius drew up a petition to amend the official articles of faith for Holland and West Friesland. It was called the Remonstrance and the five changes they proposed were that predestination was conditional rather than absolute; the atonement was universal in intention; regeneration by the Holy Spirit is necessary for salvation; the divine grace of regeneration can be utterly resisted; and believers can fall from grace. What came to be known as the five points of Calvinism (or TULIP), actually started out as a response to those five articles. Calvinism had never been summarized in five points before. In response to their petition, a national Synod was convened at Dort where the views of the Remonstrance were considered and then sharply condemned. The most significant issue at stake in the debate had to do with the work of God in the process of a believer’s salvation.
The T in TULIP stands for the doctrine of Total Depravity. When I get a cold, I feel miserable. My body aches, my nose runs, I can’t think straight, and I want to be alone. Every part of me is affected. Total Depravity is like that. The sinful nature affects the total person. It does not mean that a person is completely evil or that they are devoid of goodness. They may, in fact, be very nice, however, the disease of sin has left every person totally incapable of achieving anything spiritual (John 8:34; Rom 3:12; 1 Cor 2:14; 2 Tim 2:26); dead (Eph 2:1, 5) and opposed to God (Rom 8:7). Because of that, God must act towards them first before they can respond. How a person understands the Bible on this point will make all the difference in the way he or she appreciates the rest.
The U in TULIP stands for the doctrine of Unconditional Election. Normally, when we make decisions we consider the characteristics of the product or service to determine which we prefer. Do we want cruise control, or a sun roof, or a better gas mileage? When God was choosing a people for himself, he did not consider anything about them when he made the decision (Deut 7:7-8). This is, perhaps, the most emotionally charged of the five points. After all, we like to think that we had something to contribute. But that is not how the Bible presents it (Rom 9:11; 11:5-6). That does not mean that God used no criteria. The Bible provides one insight into his reasoning. Ephesians 1:4b-5 says, “In love he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will” (TNIV). For some reason outside of themselves, God has determined to love some with a special love, and it is them and them alone that he adopts as his children.
The L in TULIP stands for Limited Atonement. It may be better entitled Definite Atonement because Limited Atonement may incorrectly communicate that Christ’s death had limited value. Practically all Christians agree that the atonement has infinite value, that all people enjoy some benefits of God’s grace even if they are not saved, and that since not everyone is saved, there is some kind of limit on it. The limit is either in effect (Christ died for all but only some are saved), or in scope (Christ died for some and all of them are saved). Another way to approach this is to ask if Christ actually accomplished anything on the cross or if he just made something possible. For the Arminian, Jesus’ death only made salvation possible. It may still be rejected. The Calvinist affirms that Christ made full payment for all the sins of those he had chosen and that their salvation was actually accomplished (Isa 53:5-8; Matt 1:21; John 13:1; 17:1-2,9; Rom 8:28-32; Eph 5:25).
The I in TULIP stands for Irresistible Grace. By far the most popular hymn in the English speaking world is Amazing Grace. Every time a survey is done, it ranks far ahead of every other, even among those who are non-religious. Grace is an attractive concept, but the term irresistible grace may be confusing because grace can be resisted in many ways (Acts 7:51). For that reason, it is often referred to as Effectual Grace to emphasize that the grace of God can not be ultimately resisted, but will be effective to accomplish God’s saving purpose (Deut 30:6; Luke 8:10; John 5:21; 6:37, 44-45; Rom 9:16; Eph 2:1,5; Col 2:13; 1 Peter 1:3, 23). This doctrine teaches that God’s saving purpose will ultimately be fulfilled in the lives of those he has died for.
The P in TULIP stands for the Perseverance of the Saints. This is, perhaps, the least controversial of the five points. Most Christians hold to the idea that once someone is saved, they are always saved. Again, the term can be misleading in the sense that it sounds like the primary responsibility is on the part of the believer. Since God is the one who secures them, it is better to refer to this doctrine as the Preservation of the Saints. In no way does this deny the scriptures when it says that some will falsely claim to be believers or believers cannot fall into sin. Instead, it affirms that all who truly belong to Christ and have genuine faith will be preserved by God for salvation (Isa 43:1-3; Jer 32:40; John 10:27-30; Rom 8:29-30; Col 3:3-4; 1 John 2:19, 25).
One thing that must be appreciated by the Remonstrance is that they understood the essential connectedness of these doctrines. Like the knit sweater that my grandmother made me, when one stitch unravels the whole system eventually and inevitably comes apart. These five points form a system which best describe the way the Bible reveals the work of God and human beings in salvation.
Rev. David Long
Sanger Community Church
Sanger, California
dave@SangerChurch.net
The T in TULIP stands for the doctrine of Total Depravity. When I get a cold, I feel miserable. My body aches, my nose runs, I can’t think straight, and I want to be alone. Every part of me is affected. Total Depravity is like that. The sinful nature affects the total person. It does not mean that a person is completely evil or that they are devoid of goodness. They may, in fact, be very nice, however, the disease of sin has left every person totally incapable of achieving anything spiritual (John 8:34; Rom 3:12; 1 Cor 2:14; 2 Tim 2:26); dead (Eph 2:1, 5) and opposed to God (Rom 8:7). Because of that, God must act towards them first before they can respond. How a person understands the Bible on this point will make all the difference in the way he or she appreciates the rest.
The U in TULIP stands for the doctrine of Unconditional Election. Normally, when we make decisions we consider the characteristics of the product or service to determine which we prefer. Do we want cruise control, or a sun roof, or a better gas mileage? When God was choosing a people for himself, he did not consider anything about them when he made the decision (Deut 7:7-8). This is, perhaps, the most emotionally charged of the five points. After all, we like to think that we had something to contribute. But that is not how the Bible presents it (Rom 9:11; 11:5-6). That does not mean that God used no criteria. The Bible provides one insight into his reasoning. Ephesians 1:4b-5 says, “In love he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will” (TNIV). For some reason outside of themselves, God has determined to love some with a special love, and it is them and them alone that he adopts as his children.
The L in TULIP stands for Limited Atonement. It may be better entitled Definite Atonement because Limited Atonement may incorrectly communicate that Christ’s death had limited value. Practically all Christians agree that the atonement has infinite value, that all people enjoy some benefits of God’s grace even if they are not saved, and that since not everyone is saved, there is some kind of limit on it. The limit is either in effect (Christ died for all but only some are saved), or in scope (Christ died for some and all of them are saved). Another way to approach this is to ask if Christ actually accomplished anything on the cross or if he just made something possible. For the Arminian, Jesus’ death only made salvation possible. It may still be rejected. The Calvinist affirms that Christ made full payment for all the sins of those he had chosen and that their salvation was actually accomplished (Isa 53:5-8; Matt 1:21; John 13:1; 17:1-2,9; Rom 8:28-32; Eph 5:25).
The I in TULIP stands for Irresistible Grace. By far the most popular hymn in the English speaking world is Amazing Grace. Every time a survey is done, it ranks far ahead of every other, even among those who are non-religious. Grace is an attractive concept, but the term irresistible grace may be confusing because grace can be resisted in many ways (Acts 7:51). For that reason, it is often referred to as Effectual Grace to emphasize that the grace of God can not be ultimately resisted, but will be effective to accomplish God’s saving purpose (Deut 30:6; Luke 8:10; John 5:21; 6:37, 44-45; Rom 9:16; Eph 2:1,5; Col 2:13; 1 Peter 1:3, 23). This doctrine teaches that God’s saving purpose will ultimately be fulfilled in the lives of those he has died for.
The P in TULIP stands for the Perseverance of the Saints. This is, perhaps, the least controversial of the five points. Most Christians hold to the idea that once someone is saved, they are always saved. Again, the term can be misleading in the sense that it sounds like the primary responsibility is on the part of the believer. Since God is the one who secures them, it is better to refer to this doctrine as the Preservation of the Saints. In no way does this deny the scriptures when it says that some will falsely claim to be believers or believers cannot fall into sin. Instead, it affirms that all who truly belong to Christ and have genuine faith will be preserved by God for salvation (Isa 43:1-3; Jer 32:40; John 10:27-30; Rom 8:29-30; Col 3:3-4; 1 John 2:19, 25).
One thing that must be appreciated by the Remonstrance is that they understood the essential connectedness of these doctrines. Like the knit sweater that my grandmother made me, when one stitch unravels the whole system eventually and inevitably comes apart. These five points form a system which best describe the way the Bible reveals the work of God and human beings in salvation.
Rev. David Long
Sanger Community Church
Sanger, California
dave@SangerChurch.net
Friday, April 17, 2009
“You mean I’m not the next Billy Graham?”
As I look back at my seminary days and my conversations with my fellow classmates, I’m sure that each one of us had the quiet expectation that God had a big ministry in store for us after graduation. After all, why would God have called me to seminary if there wasn’t a grand-scale ministry down the road? If I’m being completely honest (don’t think worse of me for this), I believe there were actually a few moments that I dreamed about being the next Billy Graham.
Before I tell you whether or not I actually became the next Billy Graham, there were pivotal moments in my church experiences that groomed my expectations for future ministry. Many times we base our future assumptions on past realities. My church experiences only fueled the fires of expecting God to do something BIG.
When I was a toddler living in Denver, my family drove way out west to Bear Creek Presbyterian Church every Sunday. I didn’t care for the 45 minute drive each way, but my parents never asked my opinion. The attraction at Bear Creek was John Coad. Here was a man who was an ex-Marine and was the nearest thing to the Apostle Peter since Peter himself. John was a passionate preacher of God’s Word, much like Peter must have been, but also had the interpersonal skills of Peter as well. My favorite story was when he strongly disagreed with an elder at a Session meeting and challenged the elder step out to the parking lot! Sure, he had a few flaws but that man could PREACH!! The result of his preaching was that Bear Creek grew from a church of a few hundred to a church of a few thousand.
Some years later during my sophomore year of high school, my dad took our family to the first service of a start-up church. The name of the church was Cherry Hills Community Church. When Dr. Jim Dixon took the pulpit that first Sunday, I thought, “Here’s a tall, skinny guy who actually holds my attention during the sermon.” As the months passed, a phenomenon started to occur: my high school friends were actually attending church and loving it. Then another phenomenon occurred: a dad of one of my friends started attending church who hadn’t darkened the doors of a church in years . . . nor would he have ever desired it. Within a few months, this dad was an usher. I’m not sure he missed a single Sunday for years. By the way, the church grew from hundreds of attendees to thousands of attendees because they were all seeing what I saw that first Sunday: this tall man can PREACH!
Some years later, my brother began attending a church-plant from Faith Presbyterian Church called Faith-Cherry Creek Presbyterian Church. The name was eventually shortened to Cherry Creek Presbyterian Church. The church was pastored by a short guy named Mark Brewer. My brother told my family about the church so we visited a few times. The first time I heard Mark preach I thought, “Here’s a guy who has an amazing ability to make me feel the Bible story in a way I hadn’t experienced before. Yet, right when I was completely enthralled with the story, he broke my line of concentration with the funniest one-liner I had ever heard.” By the way, this church grew from a church of hundreds to a church of thousands because this man could PREACH!
Some years later, after I had graduated from seminary, I received a call to be the Senior Pastor of Valley Community Church in San Jacinto, California. (The title is somewhat of a misnomer because I’m a solo pastor). As I anticipated my first year of ministry, I called upon my experience to be my guide. I would simply do what I had been mentored to do by John Coad, Jim Dixon and Mark Brewer. All I had to do is PREACH and the crowds would start rolling in.
The first few years the attendance rose impressively from a statistical standpoint- attendance was up 48%. But the real numbers told the real story . . . we had gone from an average Sunday attendance of 64 to an average of 95. The truth was brutally apparent to me: I was no John Coad, Jim Dixon, or Mark Brewer. The harder I tried to be like them the more desperate and miserable I became.
I realized that I was lying to myself back in seminary. God didn’t have a grand ministry in store for me. The fact that I was one of the finalists for the Seminary Preaching Award was no indicator that I would possess the abilities of a Coad, Dixon or Brewer. I was crushed.
In the midst of my brokenness and misery, the Lord began ministering to me. He took me through a Peter-like moment when He impressed upon my heart, “Guy, if I want their ministry to minister to thousands and yours to a hundred, what is that to you? You must follow Me!” When I allowed the fullness of these words to resonate in my heart, the great spiritual truth sprang forth . . . If I am following the Lord and doing what He has called me to do, then it is every bit as important to Him as any other ministry!
The truth is . . . I was not lying to myself in seminary when I assumed the Lord had a grand ministry in store for me. The only difference is that now I see things more clearly from the Lord’s perspective. The greatest ministry is being in the place God has called us and doing the things He has called us to do.
So, I guess I’m not the next Billy Graham . . . thank God!
Rev. Guy Boyer
Valley Community Church
San Jacinto, CA 92582
valleyepc@yahoo.com
Before I tell you whether or not I actually became the next Billy Graham, there were pivotal moments in my church experiences that groomed my expectations for future ministry. Many times we base our future assumptions on past realities. My church experiences only fueled the fires of expecting God to do something BIG.
When I was a toddler living in Denver, my family drove way out west to Bear Creek Presbyterian Church every Sunday. I didn’t care for the 45 minute drive each way, but my parents never asked my opinion. The attraction at Bear Creek was John Coad. Here was a man who was an ex-Marine and was the nearest thing to the Apostle Peter since Peter himself. John was a passionate preacher of God’s Word, much like Peter must have been, but also had the interpersonal skills of Peter as well. My favorite story was when he strongly disagreed with an elder at a Session meeting and challenged the elder step out to the parking lot! Sure, he had a few flaws but that man could PREACH!! The result of his preaching was that Bear Creek grew from a church of a few hundred to a church of a few thousand.
Some years later during my sophomore year of high school, my dad took our family to the first service of a start-up church. The name of the church was Cherry Hills Community Church. When Dr. Jim Dixon took the pulpit that first Sunday, I thought, “Here’s a tall, skinny guy who actually holds my attention during the sermon.” As the months passed, a phenomenon started to occur: my high school friends were actually attending church and loving it. Then another phenomenon occurred: a dad of one of my friends started attending church who hadn’t darkened the doors of a church in years . . . nor would he have ever desired it. Within a few months, this dad was an usher. I’m not sure he missed a single Sunday for years. By the way, the church grew from hundreds of attendees to thousands of attendees because they were all seeing what I saw that first Sunday: this tall man can PREACH!
Some years later, my brother began attending a church-plant from Faith Presbyterian Church called Faith-Cherry Creek Presbyterian Church. The name was eventually shortened to Cherry Creek Presbyterian Church. The church was pastored by a short guy named Mark Brewer. My brother told my family about the church so we visited a few times. The first time I heard Mark preach I thought, “Here’s a guy who has an amazing ability to make me feel the Bible story in a way I hadn’t experienced before. Yet, right when I was completely enthralled with the story, he broke my line of concentration with the funniest one-liner I had ever heard.” By the way, this church grew from a church of hundreds to a church of thousands because this man could PREACH!
Some years later, after I had graduated from seminary, I received a call to be the Senior Pastor of Valley Community Church in San Jacinto, California. (The title is somewhat of a misnomer because I’m a solo pastor). As I anticipated my first year of ministry, I called upon my experience to be my guide. I would simply do what I had been mentored to do by John Coad, Jim Dixon and Mark Brewer. All I had to do is PREACH and the crowds would start rolling in.
The first few years the attendance rose impressively from a statistical standpoint- attendance was up 48%. But the real numbers told the real story . . . we had gone from an average Sunday attendance of 64 to an average of 95. The truth was brutally apparent to me: I was no John Coad, Jim Dixon, or Mark Brewer. The harder I tried to be like them the more desperate and miserable I became.
I realized that I was lying to myself back in seminary. God didn’t have a grand ministry in store for me. The fact that I was one of the finalists for the Seminary Preaching Award was no indicator that I would possess the abilities of a Coad, Dixon or Brewer. I was crushed.
In the midst of my brokenness and misery, the Lord began ministering to me. He took me through a Peter-like moment when He impressed upon my heart, “Guy, if I want their ministry to minister to thousands and yours to a hundred, what is that to you? You must follow Me!” When I allowed the fullness of these words to resonate in my heart, the great spiritual truth sprang forth . . . If I am following the Lord and doing what He has called me to do, then it is every bit as important to Him as any other ministry!
The truth is . . . I was not lying to myself in seminary when I assumed the Lord had a grand ministry in store for me. The only difference is that now I see things more clearly from the Lord’s perspective. The greatest ministry is being in the place God has called us and doing the things He has called us to do.
So, I guess I’m not the next Billy Graham . . . thank God!
Rev. Guy Boyer
Valley Community Church
San Jacinto, CA 92582
valleyepc@yahoo.com
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Skittish Trout
It was just a wide spot in the stream where the mountain valley flattened out to pool and to drink the icy water. Tall, snow-covered peaks reflected in its placid surface. Narrow shadows hung suspended in its middle: brook trout facing upstream and feeding on anything drifting through their territory. I had to crawl through the grass as I approached the pool so as not to send the trout flying for cover in the undercut banks. Even then, the shadow of my fly rod arching across the water panicked them. Skittish trout, they’re called. So attuned to hawks and fishermen and other predators are they, that any movement from above is perceived as a threat. And rightly so.
I have a friend who calls herself a skittish trout. She grew up in a guilt-based, authoritarian religion and church. Any question, doubt, comment, or difficulty she had with her childhood faith and church was met with anger and derision. Intellectual abuse, she called it. Not that she didn’t have faith, she just wondered. As soon as she was old enough, she fled organized religion. And today anytime even a shadow of that old-time religion falls across her life she flies for the safety of the cutbank, peering out, yet still wondering.
In the process of starting a church, I’ve discovered large pools of skittish trout. Unfortunately, stories similar to my friend’s abound. Church splits, pastoral infidelity and dishonesty, harsh judgementalism, cold cliquishness, unbending dogma, rampant self-righteousness, cookie cutter lifestyles and answers, authoritarian leadership, political partisanship, powerless people, and ample—but common—human failings in what is supposed a divine institution are just a few of the shadows that the church and her people cast across the pool of modern life.
Almost all of us have, or have heard, a similar story. The scars and their impact vary. I started following Christ at age fifteen and began looking for a church to attend. Even I knew that was the way of things, but I was naive about the dress code. My hair flowed below my shoulders and my jeans were ratty. It was the 1970s. At the end of the sermon, I tramped forward in response to the “altar call.” I knelt to pray and a pastor (At least I think he was a pastor. To me he looked, acted, and smelled like one) approached and asked me if I wanted to become a Christian.
I proudly told him how just days earlier I had become a Christian at a church camp. He frowned at me and shook his head.“You need to get your hair cut before you can become a Christian, son,” he said as if this truth saddened him deeply.
I was young and stupid and argued with him. “Jesus had long hair. Haven’t you seen those pictures of him?”
Not impressed with my theological acumen he simply offered, “I have a pair of scissors in the back. I can get them, cut your hair, and then you can pray and become a Christian.”
I decided to look for another church. Since then I have been in three churches where the pastors have had affairs, and within most of the churches I have been a part, have seen and heard things that come straight from the gates of hell not the streets of heaven, and have made my own sad mistakes as a person and a pastor (proving the adage that if I find the perfect church I had better not join it because I’ll ruin it).
Two things: One, apparently not being a skittish trout but maybe a stupid one, I have yet to fly for the cutbank and hide. Sometimes I feel like a singed moth circling the flame. I’m not sure why I don’t fly. Probably because God keeps blocking the escape route. Probably also because with each scar the church and I have left on one another, there are equal—and more—marks of grace and life this crazy body called the church has bestowed on me. That she has allowed me to seek my calling and share my thoughts, ideas, and life through her may be the least of them. And when I parade before my eyes the faces of friends I have made, and how they have enriched my life, in this human/divine community, I am humbled and grateful.
Two, dealing with people’s souls is dangerous and delicate. So too, I’ve discovered, is this starting and being a church, and mysterious. We’re not selling widgets or snake oil. We’re attempting to touch God and, through rugged and calloused human hands, places in ourselves God hid in our deepest reaches, places we’ve hidden even from ourselves. Hanging out a sign reading, “Got God?” does not do anyone, especially the Creator of our souls, justice. This, sharing our souls, spiritual journeys, and lives, is not marketing. It cannot be shrink wrapped into some tidy package. It’s messy, alive, sensitive, unpredictable, sometimes ugly, often beautiful. Tread softly.
I wish finding God and ourselves and living in a Christ community with truth and grace could be written up in a book or produced in a program or bulleted in a three point outline, or contained in a church building (and sometimes God even works through these things). But alas we and God and life are deeper and messier than that.
And none of this is new. Even the first two humans hid from God after they discovered their bare, naked distance from and need for Him. We have been flying from God ever since. Skittish trout indeed. Fear not, however, God is no predator, but is a patient, persistent angler.
Rev. Eugene C. Scott
Neighborhood Church
http://www.myneighborhoodchurch.org/.
eugenesgodsightings.blogspot.com/
I have a friend who calls herself a skittish trout. She grew up in a guilt-based, authoritarian religion and church. Any question, doubt, comment, or difficulty she had with her childhood faith and church was met with anger and derision. Intellectual abuse, she called it. Not that she didn’t have faith, she just wondered. As soon as she was old enough, she fled organized religion. And today anytime even a shadow of that old-time religion falls across her life she flies for the safety of the cutbank, peering out, yet still wondering.
In the process of starting a church, I’ve discovered large pools of skittish trout. Unfortunately, stories similar to my friend’s abound. Church splits, pastoral infidelity and dishonesty, harsh judgementalism, cold cliquishness, unbending dogma, rampant self-righteousness, cookie cutter lifestyles and answers, authoritarian leadership, political partisanship, powerless people, and ample—but common—human failings in what is supposed a divine institution are just a few of the shadows that the church and her people cast across the pool of modern life.
Almost all of us have, or have heard, a similar story. The scars and their impact vary. I started following Christ at age fifteen and began looking for a church to attend. Even I knew that was the way of things, but I was naive about the dress code. My hair flowed below my shoulders and my jeans were ratty. It was the 1970s. At the end of the sermon, I tramped forward in response to the “altar call.” I knelt to pray and a pastor (At least I think he was a pastor. To me he looked, acted, and smelled like one) approached and asked me if I wanted to become a Christian.
I proudly told him how just days earlier I had become a Christian at a church camp. He frowned at me and shook his head.“You need to get your hair cut before you can become a Christian, son,” he said as if this truth saddened him deeply.
I was young and stupid and argued with him. “Jesus had long hair. Haven’t you seen those pictures of him?”
Not impressed with my theological acumen he simply offered, “I have a pair of scissors in the back. I can get them, cut your hair, and then you can pray and become a Christian.”
I decided to look for another church. Since then I have been in three churches where the pastors have had affairs, and within most of the churches I have been a part, have seen and heard things that come straight from the gates of hell not the streets of heaven, and have made my own sad mistakes as a person and a pastor (proving the adage that if I find the perfect church I had better not join it because I’ll ruin it).
Two things: One, apparently not being a skittish trout but maybe a stupid one, I have yet to fly for the cutbank and hide. Sometimes I feel like a singed moth circling the flame. I’m not sure why I don’t fly. Probably because God keeps blocking the escape route. Probably also because with each scar the church and I have left on one another, there are equal—and more—marks of grace and life this crazy body called the church has bestowed on me. That she has allowed me to seek my calling and share my thoughts, ideas, and life through her may be the least of them. And when I parade before my eyes the faces of friends I have made, and how they have enriched my life, in this human/divine community, I am humbled and grateful.
Two, dealing with people’s souls is dangerous and delicate. So too, I’ve discovered, is this starting and being a church, and mysterious. We’re not selling widgets or snake oil. We’re attempting to touch God and, through rugged and calloused human hands, places in ourselves God hid in our deepest reaches, places we’ve hidden even from ourselves. Hanging out a sign reading, “Got God?” does not do anyone, especially the Creator of our souls, justice. This, sharing our souls, spiritual journeys, and lives, is not marketing. It cannot be shrink wrapped into some tidy package. It’s messy, alive, sensitive, unpredictable, sometimes ugly, often beautiful. Tread softly.
I wish finding God and ourselves and living in a Christ community with truth and grace could be written up in a book or produced in a program or bulleted in a three point outline, or contained in a church building (and sometimes God even works through these things). But alas we and God and life are deeper and messier than that.
And none of this is new. Even the first two humans hid from God after they discovered their bare, naked distance from and need for Him. We have been flying from God ever since. Skittish trout indeed. Fear not, however, God is no predator, but is a patient, persistent angler.
Rev. Eugene C. Scott
Neighborhood Church
http://www.myneighborhoodchurch.org/.
eugenesgodsightings.blogspot.com/
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