Are you a passionate follower of Christ who finds "religion" a drag? Do you feel out of touch with, or always trying to pump some life into your local church? Do you ever wonder who said excellence, creativity and authenticity where "not wrong but we just don't do" them? Do you, through a supreme effort of will, still attend church because you feel it's something you must do? Have you just drifted away because the whole "church thing" doesn't challenge or engage you anymore?
Yet you still read the Bible, you pray before meals and when you feel the need for God, which you'll admit is almost all the time. You serve the poor or donate generously to feed the hungry. You've taken on the responsibility to "work out your own salvation..." by knowing the mechanism and the person, Christ, through whom your salvation is assured.
Then according to
George Barna you may already be, or have the makings of a revolutionary. After reading his book
"Revolution,"
I think I've been one for a long time.
Barna says of Revolutionaries...
"They have no use for churches that play religious games, whether those games are worship services that drone on without the presence of God or ministry programs that bear no spiritual fruit. Revolutionaries eschew ministries that compromise or soft sell our sinful nature to expand organizational turf. They refuse to follow people in ministry leadership positions who cast a personal vision rather than God's, who seek popularity rather than the proclamation of truth in their public statements, or who are more concerned about their own legacy than that of Jesus Christ. They refuse to donate one more dollar to man-made monuments that mark their own achievements and guarantee their place in history. They are unimpressed by accredited degrees and endowed chairs in Christian colleges and seminaries that produce young people incapable of defending the Bible or unwilling to devote their lives to serving others. And revolutionaries are embarrassed by language that promises Christian love and holiness but turns out to be all sizzle and no substance.."
Barna goes on to say that the seven passions of Revolutionaries are:
• Intimate Worship
• Faith-Based Conversations
• Intentional Spiritual Growth
• Servanthood
• Resource Investment
• Spiritual Friendships
• Family Faith
Do you resonate with any of those? I sure do!
My earliest memories of church were me sitting on the pew wondering why things were so haphazard... Did they make this stuff up in the office before they came on the platform... I was 5 years old.
In our church we had one microphone for the speaker and one for prayer. Both were controlled by one volume control from a hallway just outside the sanctuary near the back. It was a large black phenolic knob (we'd call it a "retro" looking knob today but this was the early "60's so it was very Now-Tro then...) It just stuck out of the wall about 6.5 to 7 feet above the floor (so the kids wouldn't "mess with it....") I turned around that morning when the system feedback caught my attention and saw the shortest adult male deacon in the church straining to reach that knob to operate the PA. At five I wasn't sensitive to people's desire to serve or sacrificing to help the church... I just couldn't believe they had the shortest adult I knew, trying to work that knob which seemed to be miles above his head. I didn't know about spiritual gifts but I had an instinctive sense that people should be matched with their strengths not their "SHORT" comings. I distinctly remember thinking that we should do better than that.
To be fair, I also remember a baptism weekend where the singing was spirited and joyous... Where we sang old hymns like "Power in the Blood" or "Rolled Away... Every Burden on My heart is Rolled Away." I could just feel the power, excitement and joy as another fresh new soul came up out of those waters. I remember asking my father why we didn't sing like that all the time. he told me we "weren't that happy all the time." I thought to myself, "When people got baptized we're happy... the rest of the time we were bored, quiet and sad. Maybe if we were happier, more people would get baptized... then we'd be happier and more people would get baptized." Seemed like an excellent church growth strategy to me at 5!
But as I grew I began to see that church was "what it was." It had no real interest in being dynamic, or a force for change... not in it's community, or anywhere else. In fact the adults seemed to love quoting the "I am the Lord, I change NOT" mantra.
I'll admit there were people who lived "on the God edge..." Missionaries, those who cared for the poor (on Tuesdays between noon and 3PM) and guys who sold denominational books door-to-door, we called them colporteurs. We'd pray every night that God would "Bless the missionaries and colporteurs..." I remember thinking that one day maybe I'd like to have an adventure with God, but I knew when we heard their stories that I was not likely to ever be that bold, quick thinking or crazy. Those guys were the "berzerkers" of our denomination, they were too independent to work their way very far up the organizational ladder. But as a pre-teen, I didn't even understand the ladder...
I think I was wired from birth to look at what was, and see what could be... My mother always said that I was a good kid, but I seemed to live by the motto "It's easier to get forgiveness than permission." I was the kid that would talk the other kids into following me on some grand scheme, or adventure.
At eleven I sold popcorn at the local denominational boarding High-School and bought a guitar. Then I talked a couple of my friends into begging their folks until they got guitars too. We got some of the girls from our class and formed a small contemporary/folk group (circa 1970) to perform for evangelistic meeting in our area.
I was hooked... I didn't need anybody's permission. If I had a mission, and could pull together a team, I could get support from adults. If we worked hard we could really contribute! I formed and toured with groups all the way through high-school. We'd perform in churches on the weekends, and even do small to medium sized tours of the midwest, northeast and eastern Canada.
Here's one of those high-school groups, The Sonlight Gospel Singers, pausing for a photo at Niagara Falls on March 27, 1976.
I went to a denominational college and formed a group there my freshman year. We sang for chapels, vesper programs, campmeetings, and churches all around the midwest. We even recorded a 6 song cassette to sell at our concerts. I had a mission and was feeling a sense of God leading. I was a young leader and pretty green, but I loved the kids I worked with and through their patience and honesty they taught me a lot about leadership and about community... about doing life together.
Then someone or something "flipped the switch!" My sophomore year we re-formed and thought we'd have another exciting year... but we "couldn't get arrested," on campus or in the churches close-by. They were polite and thanked us for our ministry last year... but "No" they didn't have any open dates for us this year.
I asked a friend who was on the student ministry council what was up... He told me that he'd gone to bat for us but the sponsors had just said "We've got to support our own." It seems that the college had formed their own "witnessing team." and was actually PAYING them to do what we'd already been doing at no cost to the school. Despite our working together with them the previous year, they had taken our idea and format and asked a returning student-missionary to form a "clone group" to ours.
I eventually lost a good friend and great tenor singer because his brother was the "returning student-missionary" and he couldn't stand the tension at home. I'd seen my first volley of church-politics up close and personal. We had to seek ministry opportunities further from the campus. Since we were paying our own way by doing part-time jobs while going to school, it was a hard year. We did a lot of concerts that year though, and even a ten-day spring tour across Ontario, New York and Pennsylvania. But we never got to sing on campus because we were not "school sponsored."
That took it's toll on us... We went through more personnel that year than any before or since. I think we had 5 different line-ups between September and January. Then in February we formed this lineup. These kids were all leaders and great singers. In spite of the "blacklisting" God gave us the gift of some of the best times on the road I've ever enjoyed.
As an interesting aside, the school sponsored group did buy a big sound system, (spending about $25,000 1978 dollars,) they did get paid, and they did actually do ONE chapel performance. That was IT! I learned an important lesson from that whole event... You value what you work for... Pet projects often fail for lack of something to strive against (like extinction!)
As my Sophomore year was winding down, my parents were looking for a new job. My father, an ordained minister, had been the Bible-teacher, assistant principle, and pastor at the boarding academy I'd attended. The conference had decided to cut staff and since my dad was ordained and had his masters degree in secondary Ed administration. They thought he'd have an "easier time getting work" at another academy. The other bible teacher wasn't ordained and had no advanced degree... so he was less marketable.
Problem was, they made this decision late in the school-year and all the others schools had done their hiring already. The brethren had yanked his job, because he was "so qualified," and left him hanging.
My dad was crushed! He did find a job for the next year on the other coast, a very poor fit both for his skills and passions(teaching grade school instead of High-School) and his culture (he was just to conservative to "fit in!")
I decided to quit school and "go on the road" full time with my gospel group. I thought a lot about what had happened over those two years in college. I was preparing for the ministry with an additional major in music. I just couldn't go on preparing to work for an organization with so much intrigue. I needed some time to hear from God.
And I believe He spoke to me... He said, "I didn't let you go, the church did." They weren't unhappy with either of my dad or me, they saw that we tried to be men of integrity and dedication. In the end, they just wanted "company men" in those positions. Ironically, I think my dad was a much stronger "God seeking" man, and more loyal to "the company" than the guys that made the decision. I have to admit that although I had been a company man... I wasn't any longer, and never would be again...
I think it was at that point that I became a borderline revolutionary. I realized that God didn't make those decisions that had hurt us so deeply. he didn't de-value our service... men did. I decided to do my best from that point on to "cut out the middle man..." the organized church. I started to look to God for my marching orders.
He had them for me too! Not always when and where I expected them, and not without some cost. There are a lot more stories between that day and this one. Stories of how God changed me, bit by bit, from a passionate (but disillusioned) young man into the "Revolutionary" I think I'm becoming. Tune in tomorrow for Part 2.
Share some stories here about your journey. Have you had to choose between your family and God, between your denomination and your family, between your denomination and GOD!? Tell us what God did for you... and in you, during those times.
