But we're far afield from the point of this post. As I was learning more about the Benedictine approach to monasticism, I discovered what it was that made Benedict's Rule (the guide to life in a monastery community) so radically different from the rules of those who had gone before him. Typical monks take three vows - poverty (not owning anything individually), chastity (no sex), and obedience (do what the Abbot tells you). Benedict, though, added a fourth vow...that of stability. By vowing stability, a monk was vowing to spend the entirety of his or her life at one monastery; thus curtailing a disturbing trend of monks moving from one monastery to another for trivial reasons.
I've been thinking about that for the last few minutes, and I came to a realization. I wish we could convince the non-monastic members of churches in America to take vows of stability. Church hopping has become a hobby in most communities. I personally have known people who have changed churches because they didn't like the preaching, because someone they knew was offended by another member, and because one church offered something another church didn't. Usually the excuse you hear from these people is, "I'm just not getting fed."
The problem with that excuse is that it hides the sin of pride - the thought that my desires or my needs are more important than my commitment to this community of believers...a commitment that, at its highest and best, extends beyond attendance to financial support and volunteering in ministries. When we just automatically discount the power of that commitment, we lose something in the church.
Of course, not every Christian is like this - I know one particular churchgoer who told me during a particularly tough time at her local church that, even though she wasn't sure of the future of the church and not particularly fond of the minister, it was her church and she would be there "until the last dog dies."
That's the kind of vow of stability that I can get behind.
3 comments:
Reminds me of Luther and Wesley who, although they revolutionized the churches they were a part of, never intended to leave them. Luther was forced out, and Wesley never actually did part with the Anglicans. It seems that a lot of the positive movements have been where people sought to stay but were forced out.
Still (and I'm curious about your thoughts), what to do when the very place where we're supposed to be in relationship and receive proper teaching and encouragement, ceases to become that place?
To wit: Barb and I have visited nearly 20 different churches since we've been here in Toledo. The reality is that there are maybe 2 or 3 that we might consider staying at if God hadn't called us here to do something different. Most of it is because the communities seem more focused on themselves than on others. But there's also the felt lack of depth in worship, fellowship, and teaching. We want to be someplace where it's obvious that God's Spirit is moving and has freedom to blow where He listeth. Sadly, our experience, and the experience of many is that there aren't many places like that.
That doesn't mean the church has to be big either. We were a part of two churches in K.C. (Trinity, a.k.a. Rainbow Blvd., and Jacob's Well) that fit the bill above. Trinity was ~100 and Jacob's Well was ~450. Lima Community Nazarene in Ohio reminds me of a large church that's trying hard to do the right thing and be outwardly focused.
All that to say, I believe there's a time to stay and a time to go. Probably people leave too quickly, but sometimes they may stay too long. Not everyone has the spiritual disposition to endure years of dryness and antipathy. And if on would argue that a person should work on their own spiritual life in spite of what's going on in their church, then that discounts the primarily relational character of the Christian faith--we're never meant to live it out in isolation and with no support.
I'll end with this: If we believe that the Church is as important as we say it is--for fellowship, encouragement, spiritual teaching, service, etc.--then we need to take into account what to do when a particular church fails to provide any or even all of them.
I can't say for certain who was preaching when I heard this - but I think it was my current pastor at my wonderful bilingual Nazarene church.
He said in response to the common, "I'm just not getting fed" statment: "But what are you doing to serve your church? What are you doing to "feed" the church?"
I really like it when he put it that way. So many people expect the church to just feed them and do things for them and make them feel wonderful. However, we are called to serve in our churches as well. I've really felt convicted of this recently too. I really don't LIKE to help with the worship team - it makes me really nervous and it isn't my favorite feeling but I know they need and appreciate the help and I also know that God is calling me to help out at church.
Churches can't "feed people" unless there are enough people serving in the church...
Wow that was a long comment!
Hope things are going well in OK
We both have an amazing role model for this idea, don't we? I have been at my church since I was 3, and while I took a few years off, it always has been and always will be my home. Not that there hasn't been times where I have seriously doubted that.
I see people every Sunday who have done some really great things, and people who have really screwed up at times. And these people know the story of my entire life, my good things and my screwups.
The ability to worship with other imperfect people - AMIDST all of our imperfections - is a beautiful experience. That is sharing life together, not just sharing Sundays together. One of the biggest pitfalls of church-hopping, in my opinion.
Post a Comment