No going back: A message for the Church (Part 1)

As I have been watching churches scramble to bring some sense of normalcy and connection into their congregations at this time, when everything seems to have been tipped upside down, I am reminded of a dream I had just over two years ago.

It was quite a graphic and disturbing dream and everything was in full colour. In the dream, I was in something like an observation room overlooking a surgical theatre. All was pristine white, and there was a very large man lying on a gurney or operating table. Even as I looked, I realised he was fat because he was pregnant, and indeed, was in the process of birthing. It disturbed me and I was thinking, “That’s unnatural, but I guess it is to be expected these days”.

As I watched, there were three or four other men around him, all in white coats (like doctors), and as I wondered how he could physically give birth, they started to cut him open. They were behind him, and started cutting up along his spine starting at his buttocks and then, to my further horror, started peeling off his skin. He was screaming out in pain, and as I watched in revulsion the men were saying, it’s ok, he’ll be all right as we have another skin to replace this one with. At this point, there was another man standing in with them, watching, and I understood that they were going to give his skin to the original man. At this point, the dream was disturbing me so much I woke up.

Creative Commons: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Wings_Laparoscopic_operating_theatre.jpg

Reflecting and praying into what this dream means, I have sensed is that it is a message about the Church. There are several points that stand out to me.

Over the last few decades, as many branches of the Church have struggled with decline in numbers, various groups have investigated what needs to change to remain relevant or in touch with the general population, to bring people back in or keep them from leaving. To this end,

there have been numerous attempts to “birth” something new.

While not all of this has been negative, in a number of circumstances, all we have really been doing is changing the outward appearance (the “skin”) without actually changing the fact that underneath we are still operating out of “man’s” flesh or the ways of the world. In short, I believe we have often been trying to birth the things of man, rather than things of the spirit. It reminds me of Jesus’ parable of the new wine in old wineskins, except this is trying to put new wineskins on old wine. However, I believe the old ways of doing things will no longer work; they are causing too much pain  - it is time for the Church to come into a new season of the Spirit in every way.

It’s time for NEW wine in NEW wineskins!

I see that this way of operating, looking to ideas of human origin has invaded many branches of the Church, whether traditional, charismatic, Pentecostal or otherwise alternative. Wherever we are tangled up in the difference between what we “should do” and how to “be” the people of God we will continue to struggle. This is both at a personal and corporate level, although in many scenarios, what some leadership carry can infect the congregation adversely as well.

To me, the underlying issue is whether our mode of operation is from the perspective of the knowledge of good and evil (i.e. “this is right, this is wrong”, “do this to be a “good Christian”, to have the “favour of God””) or whether we are truly connecting people with the life source, allowing Holy Spirit to be their Guide and Counsellor, helping people to be connected first to God and then to each other, so that each person’s identity is firmly in relationship with God, rather than looking constantly to church leaders to know how we must behave and whether or not we are on the “right path”.

Over the last few years, it has become very clear that we are moving into a new era. The era of the Church being the primary focus in relation to our faith is quite abruptly over, I believe. With COVID-19 and the lockdowns, we have been catapulted out of the comfortable nest of “church-life” into the air, to living out “Kingdom life”. This is not to say that Church is over, but I certainly believe it is being stripped of all that needs to go. We are being released from all those things that have tied us to the ground and prevented us soaring as we are meant to.

The KINGDOM ERA has begun!

Part of another dream I had a couple of months back also relates in here. In the dream, I was hanging out washing (just doing normal life), and as I did, I became aware of a swirling mist coming down through the trees. (We live in the mountains, with tall forest around us.) Just as I was wondering if it was actually mist or whether it was smoke from someone burning off (either of which was going to disrupt what I was doing!), I smelt the smoke, but also started hearing the crackling of burning green leaves. Things then happened very rapidly, with the crackling getting louder and louder and then the very large (20+m) pittosporum trees across the road from us suddenly bursting into flame. Even as I called 000, emergency services, I got a text on my phone stating, “we are aware of an incident in your area”. Straight after this, I got a call from a firefighter (I could see him in uniform – whoever said dreams had to be practical!), asking what was going on. As I looked back to the trees, I realised that the fire had already gone out. All that was left was blackened branches against the sky, with one central branch still burning.

As I explored the meaning of this dream, which again, I felt was about the Church, I feel the important part for this discussion is about the leaves. As I was looking into the significance of the type of trees burning (which didn’t really turn up much for me), what I was aware of is the fact that they are very prolifically leafy, which has its benefits. However, it reminded me that when trees produce a great deal of leaves, this can inhibit their ability to produce fruit. In fact, leafiness, to an extent, can be inversely proportional to fruitfulness.

The message to the Church as I see it is that much of what we have been doing has been producing leaves not fruit. God, in His gracious mercy, is giving us the opportunity for radical change. In this time of inability to continue with “business as usual”, we have a unique opportunity to really dig deep and reassess what is important for the Church, the Body perhaps especially down to how we are structured. As restrictions pare us back to the bare bones, will we continue to desperately scramble to work out how we can continue with “business as usual”, or are we ready to go on the Holy Spirit ride of our lives for something completely new?

“Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” Is 43:19

As others have observed, the time for “cookie cutter” or “church franchising” is over. It is time to stop looking to what has worked elsewhere and simply adding it to our own model and hoping for the same results.

We have to look to God alone for our unique way forward.

To help us move ahead and find the new that God for us, the questions below are a starting point:

“What is God’s vision for our village/town/region?”

“What has God placed in our area is unique or particular to us in our role to enlarge and release the Kingdom of God where we are?” 

“What is already going on that doesn’t match up with that vision?”

“What are the gifts and abilities God has already placed in our community to bring about this vision, that illuminate our role in this?”

“How can we work with the other communities of God in our area to bring about this vision?”

Is this really how the dream ends?

Our Good Friday celebration was an interactive "Stations of the Cross" experience. It was challenging, meaningful and at times deeply moving. At Station #11, we were encouraged to reflect on what Jesus' disciples must have felt as they watched Him die, as they laid Him in the tomb. This poem by Cheryl Laurie was shared to help:

You think this is what’s best for us?
They humiliated you on a cross.
And we’re humiliated too, because we put our trust in you.
No wonder Peter denied you.
Maybe it wasn’t out of fear, but out of sheer, bloody rage
that this is how the dream ended.
How can you think this is what’s best for us?
We put everything we had into you.
Our trust.

Our belief that you were the one who could save us.
You offered us a taste of welcome,
a hint of grace,
a touch of freedom.
For a moment we glimpsed a new world,
and you promised an eternity of that.
And we trusted you.
We’re left wondering which is worse
– that it ended like this
or that you knew it would end like this
and you took us with you anyway.

Of course, we know that the disciples mourning turned to joy a few days later. The story didn't end there. I can't help but wonder, though, if this poem doesn't resonate deeper with many of us. It certainly did with me.

There is a level at which we can struggle in this walk with Jesus. Sure, we have had an encounter with Him at some point. Maybe there are a number of points at which we have encountered Him in a deeply meaningful and personal way, where He has touched our hearts and transformed us, turned our lives upside down, to the place where we think we will never be the same again, where we sing for joy, where we leap and dance in our freedom.

However now, right now we walk in a place where it feels as though the sun will never shine, where we feel like the breakthrough will never come, where we can feel like death has won the victory, and we have nothing left; that we put all we had into this walk, into this relationship with God, but somehow, at some point, He has let us down. He hasn't come through with 'the goods' as we were expecting, that we would like. He hasn't done what we thought He should. And it hurts. 

It might be with our marriage, our kids, our workplace or career. It may be our health, or the health of a loved one. We have put all our hope in Him being our breakthrough, and it hasn't happened. We feel the dream has died and we are left like a child holding the empty string of our popped balloon, feeling dismal and disappointed.

Where are you now, God?

So what do we do with these feelings?

For many of us, we hold onto hope. Maybe it is only really public hope - we put on our "Sunday-go-to-meetin'" faces, giving the expected appearance of a "good Christian", but at home, we take it out on the cat, the dog or anyone else available. Or we hold it all inside, quietly dying; day by day our soul shrivelling and drying up.

For others, we do the opposite. Our hurt and betrayal are so complete that we display them for all the world to see. We either reject the notion of God altogether, or we paint Him as a tyrant  or megalomaniac, out to cause us maximum pain, or just plain powerless and useless, like the Wizard of Oz.

There is no easy answer for this space. However, on Saturday I experienced a parallel in the physical as we went mountain climbing.

The route we took up to Sugarloaf Peak in the Cathedral Ranges was the harder one, with many a rock climb. At several points, we had to squeeze through the crevice between two rocks while climbing near vertical rock faces, without ropes or other climbing equipment. The one in the photo was such an example to me of the difficulties and despair we feel in some of our circumstances. As I looked up where we needed to get to, all I could see were huge boulders, sheer rock face and difficulty, with a pin point of light at the end. I presumed we could get up there, because others had been before us. Whether I could do it...well, let's just say I was hoping determination would get me nine tenths of the way. The other tenth I wasn't so sure about and did my best to ignore. 

Looking up at the way ahead, I could not see at all how I was going to get up there, where the footholds would be, or what position I would need to be in. There was no obvious way up. I just had to guess that when I got to that next bit, I would be able to see, or I would work it out. And at some points, it took me a few tries to get into a position where I could actually lift myself, so I could inch my way forward. There were times that I wasn't sure I could keep going; that I would make it through, but I knew it would be at least as difficult going back, and if we went back, I would miss getting to the summit.

Even when we got through that massive crevice, there were still more almost impossible climbs up vertical walls and another crack between two rocks where we had to lever off both walls again, with few foot and hand holds.

But when we got to the top!

The sense of accomplishment, coupled with the 360 degree view was almost overwhelming. I just wanted to stay there. I could completely relate to the disciples, when they were on that mountain with Jesus and they wanted to set up camp there - although perhaps they were just like me amd secretly concerned whether they had the energy and strength to go back down! 

The point of this story is that we can look at our situations and not see a way ahead. We can feel as though that pinpoint of light (or hope) is too small, or is non-existent. We can wonder if we have the strength or stamina to get through it, to make the journey, or if we even want to.

What kept me going this day? Well, I did have a trusty companion with me, who gave me the occasional hand or leg up as well as verbal encouragement. I was not alone. I also knew that many others had gone before me and had survived, had made it to the top. Some of them I had even heard up ahead, and some, as we came to the last climb, were up the top cheering us on. Knowing that these walks are open to the public, I had faith in our parks management not to allow people to go ways that were too dangerous or impossible.

I think these are valid points for us as we face trials and struggles not of our choosing (or that we'd rather not be facing). We need others with us who can give us a hand sometimes. We need to come out of isolation on our journey and find others to share it. We also need to look to the stories of those who have gone before us, who have had similar experiences, and maybe even learn a little from their experience. And we need to trust that when we get there, we will find the next step, the next position to enable us to keep moving forward, to trust that God will provide a way, even when all we can see ahead are boulders, blockages and darkness. When we find ourselves in that dark and impossible place it helps to stop and remember: 

it may look like Friday, but Sunday will surely come! Just hold on and take the next step forward. And I will stand with you in hope, faith and a little experience that what we get to see at the end is worth it all.