In our Lenten book study, we have been taking a very interesting, rather intraspectory look at the various ways a local church can experience being blessed, along with some of the potential consequences it may encounter if its desire is to be less than that. The notion of “being blessed,” of course, is subject to a wide scope of interpretations and definitions…but for the purposes of our discussions, we are using the aspects Graham Standish suggests are the earmarks of a church that is, in his words, “…vibrant, inspired, unique, and spiritually-driven.”
It can be threatening to us as individuals, I think, to discover that our Christian lives may not be all they could be, that our understanding of God is not in fact complete, and that there just might be some type of inner accountability to a God who wants more interface with us than we originally expected. The idea that there is so much more we may discover – no – that God has designed us to discover – that’s a lot to take in. And though at first it may sound exciting, it can also be a very uncomfortable thing to face.
Well, it’s no less to take in for a church. And not the least bit more comfortable, either.
As Congregationalists nation-wide, we have striven over the centuries to live in the freedom of our own self-determination and governance. This is not surprising…we – at least those rooted in our American expression – grew and morphed simultaneously with the political experiment of democracy, in the process of declaring ourselves independent from Great Britain. And as we did religiously, so we did politically. That legacy has not left our ranks. It defines us…it describes us…and it empowers us.
It can also consume us.
In the staunch pursuit of self-determination and democratic governance, we also risk sacrificing something precious – the voice of God, which oftentimes comes in a whisper, and one not necessarily subject to majority vote. Especially if the majority isn’t listening.
Take the issue of church ministry and outreach. Am I suggesting that the church do away with bottom-up organization in favor of hierarchical control? Not at all. But I am suggesting, as does Standish so articulately, that simply what we want – defined by the needs of ourselves, our ministry departments, our committees, or even our families – does not automatically declare the voice of God, simply because a majority decision was arrived at. If those before whom important decisions are placed are not themselves plugged into the process and ability to hear God for the church, we might as well pull straws. The voice of the majority – even the voice of consensus – is not necessarily the voice of God.
In the 127th Psalm, King Solomon wrote something as profound as it was thought-provoking, in which he challenges us to consider this:
Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain. It is in vain that you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat – for God grants sleep and food to those He loves.
I’m sure those who decided to build this house – or guard that particular city – did so with some type of consensus in mind between the stakeholders involved. Nonetheless, he says…if God is not the initiator of such activity, it will be an act of futility – even if it seems at first to answer an imminent need.
The question arises, then: How can we know what the will of God is?
Unfortunately, there is no easy – or perhaps quick is a better word – answer to that. The voice and direction of God are discerned through several means, but all of which are tied to the idea that we are in pursuit of a relationship with God that goes beyond simply acquiring that direction, or anything else we might need for that matter. God desires us to be in full communion with Him – not to simply be our cosmic vending machine.
Secondly, there is a reason all of the psalm writers talked about the need to “wait for the Lord.” Such an act – waiting – requires us to deny a more baser desire: to achieve an immediate response and result. It is in the waiting that our own instincts and tainted tendencies are mitigated in their influence by sitting in, absorbing, reflecting on the presence of God. It is there that our desires are changed, our perspectives amplified, and our input ultimately impacted by a source greater than ourselves. And it is then that our decision-making is much more reliable as being directed by God.
Among other things and attributes, the blessed church is one that – while admitting such an approach is more time-consuming while being simultaneously less tangible – sees the absolute value of embracing such a process in its attempts to grow, or at least determines itself to learn that process…that of becoming spiritually-driven, familiar with the voice and calling of God, and hungry for an encounter with His presence.
May we become such a church. It is our choice.