I’ve been thinking about change lately. When Barack Obama, ran for President five years ago, he ran on a platform of change. This message of change resonated for many Americans. We wanted something different than before. Even if you are not a Democrat or the greatest fan of President Obama, you have to acknowledge that he managed to speak to our dissatisfaction and the crisis of confidence that many of us felt about our country. He gave a message of hope in a time of doubt. Many Americans might not have even fully understood the change they wanted or desired in 2008 and yet there it was, a deep seeded feeling that something was really wrong. We needed change.
Sometimes life is this way for us. We look at our life and we feel a change is in order. Something is wrong. We need to change. The hard part is actually changing.
During the Lenten season, my church is reading through the book of Acts. Among other things, the book of Acts talks about the change that happened following Jesus’ death and resurrection; the change that happened in the disciples; the change that happened when Saul, a tool of the religious establishment, became Paul a follower of Jesus and helped spread the Good News of Jesus throughout the Mediterranean. When you read about all of these changes it totally blows you away.
At my previous church, the story of Acts was often used as a hammer, or weapon against people. The example of the disciples, was used to rebuke and push us to sacrifice more for the church.
How come you’re not changed?
How come you haven’t changed more?
How come you’re not giving up more?
The tone was accusatory and often unpleasant. There was little grace and precious little of the love of Jesus in it. For people in the church, the result was constant angst, anxiety and fear. What was wrong with you? Maybe you need to recommit your life to Jesus. This produced worry and fear. Maybe you somehow botched your salvation. As a result, after each failure you would come to God in tears, hoping that if you repented hard enough, you would finally get it right.
It seems like a pretty bleak existence. What could you possibly do to show you were truly “saved” and that you were really a Christian?
This is where the manipulation took place. You would be pushed to commit more to the church, give more to the church, go on church plants and go on overseas missions. All of this was to prove that you were in fact changed and a real Christian. If you could somehow show God and the people in the church you were changed, then maybe your salvation and faith were for real.
For me the result was toxic, in trying to live up to this standard, I became a self-righteous jerk. I was one of those Christians who give Jesus a bad name.
Eventually, after living at that church for fifteen years, I finally had enough. I was burned out. As a leader at the church, I couldn’t push anyone else. I couldn’t even push myself. I was done.
When you read a story like mine, you might have many different kinds of responses.
Wow, the church really messed him up.
Wow, he’s really messed up.
Wow, he’s not saved. I will pray for him.
Wow, I still get can’t over the fact that he used President Obama in his opening example.
In the end, what saved my faith after leaving my old church was Jesus. I rediscovered the love of Jesus. This wasn’t an angry or accusatory Jesus. This wasn’t DJesus. This was a Jesus who said “Come onto me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.” This was the Jesus who came and said, “I have not come to call the righteous, but to call sinners.”
Jesus told me to shed the pretense and just be myself.
A song I really love is Springsteen’s Land of Hope and Dreams.
Big wheels roll through fields
Where sunlight streams
O meet me in a land of hope and dreams
This train. . .
Carries saints and sinners
This train. . .
Carries losers and winners
This train. . .
Carries whores and gamblers
This train. . .
Carries lost souls
I said this train. . .
Dreams will not be thwarted
This train. . .
Faith will be rewarded
The walk of faith is not about perfect people following some religious ideal. Instead, it’s about all of us, disparate, screwed up and messed up people being carried by faith and God’s grace.
Yes, truly faith will be rewarded.
In the end, this is the irony. I lived for fifteen years at a church, where change cloaked in religiosity was the gold standard. Along the way, I became a religious jerk.
What was the result?
I crashed and burned. I grew disenchanted in religious living. I tried to live up to a human standard of religion and I face planted.
The funny thing about failure is that it humbles you. For fifteen years, I had spiritual cheerleaders telling me how I needed to change. I tried to change on my own effort. It didn’t work.
So, here’s the irony. . .In the failure and in the trying and falling on my face, I believe God changed me. The change did not come through my effort, it came through me being humbled and discovering that Jesus loved me nonetheless. As a result, there is a lot less fear and angst for me these days. I’m less judgmental towards others. I’m more compassionate and a little more patient.
I don’t know if God always uses failure to change us, but this is how God changed me. Your experience with an abusive church may be light years different from mine, so maybe none of what I’m saying rings true for you. This is just my story. Take what is helpful to you and disregard the rest.
In Acts 9 Jesus knocked this guy off his donkey. Saul, a hard core religious guy, was travelling to Damascus. He was geared up to beat up some heretics who were following that Jesus fellow. This was Saul’s big plan, but instead we get to see God’s big plan. Jesus knocks Saul on his behind, humbles him, gives him a new job and a new name. Paul’s new mission is to talk about grace and the love of Jesus.
I’m not anywhere close in temperament or passion to the Apostle Paul, but I think what the story of Paul tells us that sometimes this is how God changes us. He knocks us on our ass. He humbles us. This is my story.
