Taking Hope for Granted

Well, I suppose I should get back to blogging after a couple (yikes, over three) months absence. The start of the church over the last few months has kept me quite busy. It has been hard work, but very rewarding...and fun, too, most of the time!

This week is the first week in Advent, with the theme, "Hope." I think this is one of those things that goes overlooked in our lives--those who have hope often don't even realize it, and those who are without hope cover it up with determination, resignation and a commitment to do whatever necessary to stay in control. But true hope--a sense that the future is going to be bright--is something that can't be fabricated or based on ourselves. It has to spring from somewhere, and for me it springs from my trust in God.

Maybe we think that hope is something we don't need if everything is going okay--that it's just for those in crisis or a desperate situation. Hope shines like a light in their darkness, but it isn't something we need in the brightness of everyday living. But what if hope is what brings light into our lives? What if no matter how good the present is, if we have no sense of confidence in the future, it brings a sort of darkness into our lives? Those who have no sense of God's existence and/or his kindness and love toward them have no solid foundation to rest their future confidence upon, and for them hope is often transient. Thus the prevalence of a "live for the moment, because you don't now what tomorrow holds," mentality in our society.

The biggest area I think I take this for granted is in the area of my own death. I really don't think much about death because it doesn't worry me. Though I don't understand exactly what will happen when I die or how the whole afterlife works, I have this inner confidence that I will be okay. Because I have seen God take care of me in so many ways in this life, I have a natural assurance that he will continue to take care of me as I pass out of it. This is hope, something that has grown naturally out of walking with God over the years.

It's the same with this whole economy thing. Now, maybe I'd feel different if I was a business-owner, but I have a real sense of peace in this growing crisis. Even if we experience a second Great Depression, even if I lose my house and all I have, there is hope in that future. I believe that none of it surprises God and that he will be just as present in my life then as he is now. The writer of Hebrews described hope as an "anchor for our souls," something that keeps us in place and steady no matter what was happening around us.

In all kinds of little ways, hope forms an undercurrent life that I so often take for granted. And this hope is really rooted in Christmas, about which the angels proclaimed, "Good will toward men on whom God's favour rests." Hope springs out of believing that God has my best in mind, that he loves me enough to come for me and make things right--the truths that are at the heart of this season. So as I reflect on Hope this first week of Advent, I'm grateful for the stability and security that this oft-overlooked spiritual substance brings to me.

Connecting With God

I had an "aha" moment in a conversation with someone this morning. I was talking about how one of the goals of our new church will be helping people connect with God, and she explained that she didn't really know what that meant. Because of her prior church background, the first thing that came to mind when I talked about connecting with God was feeling guilt.


Very interesting. It is amazing how much I take for granted, having spent so much time in church-world. We often throw around thoughts like "connecting with God" or "experiencing God" or "having a relationship with God" as if they were self-evident or self-explanatory. It suddenly dawned on my how wrong that is. This idea is a big deal--in fact, it is at the centre of the Christian message--however, it is by no means self-evident. In a world where the idea of spirituality is vague and all-encompassing, talking about connecting to God can mean so many things to so many people. So...just for fun, I'll do my best to explain what I mean when I talk about it.

Part of connecting with God means to somehow sense that he is really out there. I think most people have had this feeling--whether at a church service or with playing with children or out under the stars at night. It is hard to describe, but there is a feeling that comes that seems to indicate that there is Something or Someone out there, and that it/he/she is closer than we had previously thought. The feeling could be ignored or explained as a simple emotional anomoly or a moment of deep clarity--but I think that most people have a sense that it is some sort of connection to another Being. Many people seek after this "spiritual" sense and want to surround themselves with it in the same way we surround ourselves with water when we swim, or let the breeze dance across our face on a summer day.

However, though the Bible affirms this ability to sense the Presence of God, and even uses the metaphors of water and wind to describe him, it goes beyond simply seeking those impersonal encounters. The God of Jesus is a personal Being. We can be refreshed by water, but we don't communicate with it. We feel and breathe the air, but we don't have a relationship with it. God is not an impersonal, universal life force, but an actual "person" who is capable of thoughts, emotions, willpower, communication and who has a definite character. Because God is a person, and humans are persons, we connect with him in a relational way. To connect with God the way Jesus did means to relate to him personally, much the way we would relate to a loving, involved Father.

Of course, there is one problem. God is invisible. And, at least in my experience, his voice is inaudible. And he can't be physically touched or measured. So...how on earth do you relate to a Person like that!?

From our standpoint, that of talking to God, the relationship is a matter of faith. When we reach out to God through spoken prayers, unspoken prayers, written prayers, sung prayers or however else we seek to express our hearts to him, we have to trust that there is really Someone there who hears us. We have to come to the point where we believe that he cares deeply for us, and that he is actually interested in what we have to say. This faith starts out as a tiny seed of barely believing, but over time as the relationships grows (based on past experiences) the trust grows with it.

The other side of the relationship, that of God communicating with us, is a bit more difficult to control or explain. So far, the only people that I know of that hear God's voice audibly on a regular basis are (or should be) in the asylum. However, millions of otherwise normal, intelligent people claim to hear God's voice every day in an inaudible way, speaking mysteriously yet clearly into their lives. Sometimes this might happen through an inner thought or feeling that has the distinct sense of coming from somewhere "outside." Sometimes it might be through a sign or coincidence that is hard to ignore. Sometimes it might be through another person who "delivers" a message from God without even knowing it. Often God speaks through the Bible, bringing along just the right verse or passage that hits home with a particular life situation or problem we are facing.

However it happens, if God is going to communicate with us, it is up to him to do so. We can't force it, control it or earn it. We simply have to be open to it, asking him to speak and waiting and watching for a reply. And like two people who speak different languages trying to learn how to communicate, what starts out awkward and confusing will grow more natural and meaningful as time goes by.

So when I talk about helping people connect with God, this is what I'm referring to: sensing his presence, talking to him through honest, heartfelt prayer, and keeping our ears and eyes open to what he might be saying to us. From a historical sense, Christianity puts God coming to earth in human form (as Jesus) as the ultimate human-divine interaction. In Jesus, humanity was able to see God "with skin on," so that we could understand him and relate to him in a way that is concrete and more easily grasped. And from a theological standpoint, the Bible makes it clear that our imperfections and the way we've all turned away from God have had a separating effect on our relationship with him. But through Christ's death and ressurection, he has reconciled us to our Creator. It is only because of Christ and through him that we have the ability and privilege of "boldly" approaching God "with confidence." This is the heart of the Christian "good news" or gospel: that God is seeking a relationship with us and has overcome every barrier, at great personal sacrifice, to connect with us in a real and personal way.

"Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." Hebrews 4:16

"Going" to Church

I had a conversation last night with someone who had been a follower of Jesus for a while, but resisted the idea of needing to "go to church." I think Jesus would agree with his resistance.

Not that church is a bad thing. In fact the New Testament assumes church will be a part of the life of a Christ-follower. But the idea of "going to" a church is absolutely foreign to it. When it talks about church, it talks about belonging to it. The biblical idea of church is not something you attend (like a performance), but something you are a part of (like a club). Of course there would not be much point to a club without meetings, and so worship services, home group meetings and other gatherings become the visible expression of the inner unity that people who belong (or are beginning to belong) to a church have. But ultimately the church is the people, not the meeting.

The best analogy that the leaders in the early Christian movement could come up with to describe a church was the metaphor of the human body. The church is a highly organized, complex, organic structure in which every part plays a different role and every part is needed. One part can't declare independence or say it doesn't need the others, because each one is vital. The different parts of the body are deeply affected by each others' pains and pleasures. And all parts of the body work together to accomplish many things, just as the whole church is needed to have an impact on the world around it.

"You are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it." (I Corinthians 12:27). The apostle Paul goes beyond just comparing the way the church works to the way the human body works. He says that the church really is Christ's body in some mysterious way--his physical presence, touch and ability to accomplish his mission in the world today. We can no longer live independently or on our own, but as part of the body, we work alongside the other parts to follow the direction of the Head, who is Christ himself.

Can you see how far we've strayed from this idea to get to the place where we view church as something you "attend" in order to "get fed" or get your heaven-points from God? I can see the early apostles giving us blank stares while we try to describe church that way. Can you imagine your hand saying that your body was just something it attended on Sundays?

Now, I do believe that church services are important. I think they are one of the most important ways to incorporate new people into the body, and attending them is an important expression of our unity and "togetherness." But attendance should not be the primary goal for the church or the individual. Belonging is the primary goal--becoming a part of an interdependent, caring community that works together to accomplish the mission of Jesus in their community and in the world. This is church in its truest form--something extremely valuable in a world that is increasingly disjointed and disconnected.