I'm riding in the car with my family, Ronnin beside me, (who by the way is hotter now than when I first met her 12 years ago) the boys are in the back (Jace 5 years old and Justus 10 months old) engaged in a hotly contested battle over who can scream the loudest, when something besides screaming boys and a hot momma grabs my attention.
I'm in Dallas, on the way to my parents house after speaking at their church in Dallas. Sitting at a busy intersection, I notice about 15 people dressed up in their "Sunday best", you know guys in starched white shirts and dark ties, and ladies in colorful, full length dresses. Some are holding signs, some are holding bibles, but all are chanting verses focusing on God's judgement, anger with sin, and discontent with mankind. Kids stood proud next to older brothers and sisters, under the shadow of moms and dads, and braved the Texas sun and heat to make their point.
That night, my dad said he wanted to show me something. He turned his TV to a local broadcast channel, and let the program do the talking. With out of date decor and bottom-line quality production, a local church was preaching and proclaiming its message to whoever happened to pass on their way from one shopping channel to the next. The preacher was barely audible (I'm not so sure that was a bad thing) but through my dad's interpretation, he was railing against the local police department, "unsaved" people, and how every church was wrong except for his. After his sermon, the chairs were moved out of the way, "gimme some of that ole' time religion" style worship was hammered on the piano, and the audience started walking, praying, and worshipping in organized circles, while skilled (I use the word loosely) dancers took up the center aisle dancing freely to music while beating on decorative tamborines.
So to sum up my day, it was a sarcastic bloggers dream and any respectful Christian's biggest nightmare. As a follower of Christ and a student of His teachings, I couldn't help but feel that these two groups were completely clueless of who Christ really is and that they were desperately in need of someone to "turn their tables over" and bring out the whip.
But then I thought of my church, the way we worship, and my own theology and inability to represent Christ purely. I'm sure someone thinks the way we worship, follow God, and live out His commandments is wrong as well. In my instant response to condemn these groups as misguided idiotic ideologist, I started to feel convicted about my own imperialistic ignorance. It sure is easy for me to fall into the mindset that I'm right and "they're" wrong.
And that's the disease that the church has fought since day one. Jew vs. Pagan, Jew vs. Gentile, Gentile vs Pagan, white vs. black, Baptist vs. Methodist, Pentecostal vs. Charismatic, hymn vs. modern chorus, suits and ties vs. jeans and untucked shirts, seeker vs. spirit, and on and on and on...
The differences aren't the problem, they accurately represent a beautiful, diverse God. Instead it's the idea that one expression is right and the others are wrong where we get off track. I recently heard some simple advice that gave me a new perspective: "In our journey following God, for every mile we travel, there are two miles of ditches." To the right and left of us is the opportunity to get off track and start going our own way. The key when you swerve off track, is to get back on. I know it sounds too simple, and wouldn't be enough to satisfy a Sunday morning crowd hungry for 3 points, a slick powerpoint presentation, and a moving altar call, but it works.
So I've decided to force my sarcastic wit to take backseat to my humble pursuit of truth and spiritual sobriety. It seems like a better way to live, a better way to worship, and a better way to represent a Saviour of people from various races, backgrounds, political parties, and religious expressions.
I bless you to pursue a truth that does not come at the cost of love for mankind, and the humility to understand that our ways aren't a full representation of His.
