Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Revelation’

istock_000005464814xsmallI remember my first love. I remember the ones after my first love, but not as vividly, as beautifully, as gut-wrenchingly. I was 18 and she was 16. Yes, I said “she”, because at that time I was exclusively attracted to women. My encounter with Jesus was still in the distant future. We met one summer at a camp where we were both working. Tess was animated, beautiful, smart, and she loved to laugh. She “made the first move”, and I was instantly smitten. I had never been with anyone before, male or female, and the desire in my heart to love and be loved was strong. I really didn’t know how strong it was until Tess came along. I could think of nothing and no one else. We continued to see each other in the city after summer ended. I lived to talk to her on the phone, to see her, to be with her. All the classic hallmarks of a “first love” were there. When she broke up with me I was completely shattered. My world literally fell apart.

Do you remember your first love? I think we all have a story something like mine. If you grew up in a Christian family, you may even have married your first love. Either way, there’s no forgetting the excitement, the hunger and the passion of your first romance.

I remember when I fell in love with Jesus, too. I was completely smitten. I couldn’t get enough of Him. The joy, the peace, the euphoria of His presence and His love made for a powerful, beautiful, almost sacred mix of emotions. My main desire was to spend time with Him and to read the Bible. I remember praying when I hardly understood what that meant. A friend of mine explained that praying was basically talking to Jesus. I talked to Him all the time. Sometimes He seemed so near that I was sure He was sitting beside me on the bed. The first year after I gave my heart to the Lord was in many ways the time when I felt closest to Him. I wasn’t going to church, but I read the bible voraciously, I talked to Jesus – I woke up every day excited about our deepening relationship.

The sense of euphoria and excitement that I had in my early walk with Jesus hasn’t been matched since then, and I have often wondered why. It could simply be that my relationship with Him has matured. I know He’s in it for the long haul, and so am I. Or maybe it’s similar to the process of weaning a baby, learning to walk by faith, not by sight. After all, if you give a baby everything they want every time they cry, they’ll never grow up. But I think there might be another explanation as well: In our culture, “Christianity” and “churchianity” are two different things, but they often get confused. Even in evangelical churches where a personal relationship with Christ is emphasized, it’s easy to get focused on church activities, on “doing” rather than “being”. I suppose the story of Mary and Martha is in the Bible for a reason. Martha was so busy doing things for God that she lost her focus on God. Jesus said Mary had made the better choice by sitting at His feet, listening to Him.

Obviously if we spent all our time sitting at Jesus’ feet and never “did” anything, the gospel wouldn’t have spread across the world like it has. It’s clear that Jesus told His disciples, and us by extension, to do many things – to go into all the world, to preach the gospel, to love one another, to pray, to care for orphans and widows. But I can’t overcome this strange feeling that a lot of what goes on at church isn’t about Jesus, it’s about tradition, it’s about church. I think maybe we’ve moved away from the simplicity of the gospel and made following Jesus into something more complicated than it is.

I know that some of you will not care for what I’m saying here. I happen to believe that asking questions is a good thing. Why do we do things the way we do them at church? I read a book this summer that really opened my eyes on this subject, Frank Viola’s Pagan Christianity. Whether or not you agree with his conclusions, it is a fascinating book. I have no desire to “bash” institutional Christianity, but history tells us that in the past 2000 years, the church has undergone many seasons of reformation and it will probably continue to do so.

One aspect of institutional Christianity that I think is particularly damaging to the overall health of the Body is the professionalization of ministry. I don’t see this modeled in the early years of the church. It seems to me that it results in two things: first, money being poured into salaries and infrastructure that could be spent elsewhere (missions and outreach, for example); and second, the false notion that only “professionals” can be in ministry, leaving the majority of the Body passively watching from the sidelines, their natural and spiritual gifts undeveloped and unused.

In my first year after giving my heart and life to Jesus, I came to know Him intimately through reading the Bible, talking to Him and hearing His voice through the Holy Spirit. When I began to attend church, I learned all the rules and customs that we associate with Sunday services – how to greet people, how to dress and act, when to sit, when to stand, when to give your tithes & how much to give, when to clap and when not to, how to worship (I went to churches of various denominations in the first few years, so this was a real learning curve!) – and of course I came into contact with fellow Christians, which was a good thing, for the most part. I fully believe that we need each other and that God molds us in and through relationships. It’s not the meeting together part of church that concerns me; it’s how we meet and what we claim our gatherings are. If we call something a “worship service”, we’d better be sure we’re worshiping Jesus, not something or someone else – including ourselves.

I don’t think anyone who truly loves the Lord and wants to glorify Him with their life will find my words offensive. We should continually examine our hearts to make sure we’re seeking to do God’s will, to the best of our ability, with the right motives. Read the words that Jesus spoke to the church at Ephesus in the book of Revelation:

“I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance. I know that you cannot tolerate wicked men, that you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them false. You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary. Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken your first love. Remember the height from which you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first.”

The Christians in first century Ephesus were doing all the right things, but they seem to have lost sight of why they were doing them and for whom. Does this sound familiar at all? I may be an exceptional case, but I often question what motivates me to do “good” things. I’d like to believe that everything I do is done in the service of God, to bring Him glory, to “be Jesus” to a dying world. I think the truth is that we all have mixed motives, whether we realize it or not.

When my life on earth is over and I stand before Jesus, I hope to hear Him say, “well done, good and faithful servant”. The last thing I want is for Jesus to tell me that I missed the mark, I was so busy doing “good deeds” that I lost my connection with Him. Without Him we can do nothing, at least nothing of eternal value. If Jesus visited your church next Sunday, would He say, “well done”, or would He say, “I hold this against you: you have forsaken your first love”?

Advertisements

Read Full Post »