In the Spring of 1999 I was sitting at my
favorite table upstairs at
Viva Books here in San Antonio. I started out
working on a sermon but began to doodle and daydream after a time. I was
thinking about church a lot in those days, specifically about the ways we do
church in our culture. As I recall, I was staring at a
McHarp Celtic Cross, admiring the beauty and
mystery of the Celtic knots when a crazy thought came to me.
“What if we could do church any way that we
wanted?”
I’m serious about this. What if a few friends
sat down at a kitchen table and decided that they were going be a church? There
certainly are no laws preventing this, at least not in my country. The witness
of the New Testament does not speak against such a thing. On the contrary, much
of the New Testament is made up of the stories of small groups of people who
gathered in such a manner.
I let this thought roll around in my head for a
few moments.
“What if these people decided to cast off
any preconceived, cultural ideas about what church ought to be and instead tried
to whittle Christianity down to its essentials? Instead of allowing church to
become ever more complex, what if they sought to make church ever more simple,
simple enough to be written on a thumbnail or even on a heart?”
Suddenly excited, I ran into the upstairs
office and found a discarded piece of 11 by 17 computer ledger paper. I closed
my eyes, tried to forget everything I ever knew about church, and wrote down my
ideas about what such a church might be like.
First of all, we probably wouldn’t call
ourselves a church. That English word is rather tired, I think. It really
doesn’t communicate very well, and it’s not a biblical word in any case. We
might call ourselves “A Gathering of Friends,” or perhaps, “A Community Living
in the Way of Christ.” I don’t know what we would call ourselves; maybe we
wouldn’t have a name at all.
I don’t think we would concern ourselves very
much with what individuals in the community say about Jesus or even believe
about Jesus. It’s not that what we say about Jesus doesn’t matter, but this
community would begin with real living. There will be time enough for pretty
Jesus words later on.
We would begin with between five and fifteen
people who are committed to following in the way of Christ, confessing their
weaknesses and turning their lives over to God as they understand him or her. We
would make certain commitments to God and to each other:
- We would meet once or twice a week to
worship together. This meeting would be a very high priority in our lives.
- We would make these friendships
intentional ones and make it a point to spend time together.
- We would agree to pray and study the
scriptures together and on our own.
- We would nurture each other and care for
one another, especially if one of us was hurting or in need.
- We would simplify our lives to the point
where we could give 10% of our income to the community. Some who have been
on the journey longer might give more.
- Each of us would find a personal and
fulfilling way to serve God by serving the world. Finding your joyful place
of service would be a central part of being in this community, for we would
agree that Christianity is a way of living more than a set of doctrines.
We would never pay anyone to be a professional
Christian. There would be no staff, no paid ministers, no salaries, and no
overhead. If there were even ten wage earners among us, our collected offerings
might be between twenty and fifty thousand dollars. With no salaries, buildings,
or other administrative costs, almost all of this money would be used to do good
things in the name of Christ.
Maybe once a year we would sit around a kitchen
table and say, “What do you want to do for God this year?”
There would be a little money left over to buy
coffee or even a guitar if someone wanted to play it during worship. Maybe twice
a year we would all go on an extended retreat together. Those with limited funds
would never have to worry about being able to afford that sort of thing.
If there were children among us, they would sit
on our laps and worship with us. We would not have children’s classes. We
wouldn’t need them. We would teach the children ourselves and let them be a part
of everything we do.
We would never purchase or rent a place to
worship. Homes would suffice. If and when the gathering became too large to meet
comfortably in a living room, we would divide into two groups. Perhaps the two
living room churches would meet together once a month at a park or in some
borrowed space. We wouldn't worry about what will happen someday. These things
will work themselves out. I’m of the opinion that there is far too much planning
in churches nowadays.
We would never advertise our faith community.
Advertising tends to cheapen things, and I think we wouldn't want to start going
down that road. We would bring friends with us as we felt led. I’m sure some
would find us in very mysterious ways. We would trust that those who are ready
to find us would find us. Anyone would be welcome to meet with us in the living
room, of course. Some might join the community when they felt ready to embrace
our commitments.
If there is preaching, it would be done by
everyone. All who feel ready to share would take their turn. You would have
weeks or even months to read your passage of scripture prayerfully. Then you
would simply share the wisdom you found in the scriptures with your good
friends.
The best news of all is that we would lay down
the terrible burden of planning and strategizing for the business of church.
Large budgets, buildings, and programs require business plans and outreach
strategies. But you see, the big picture would not be our concern. The future
would be left in the hands of God. We would content ourselves with our simple
lives of service and devotion. What happens beyond that would be God’s business
and not ours.
It sounds refreshing, does it not? And vaguely
familiar. Even if you’ve never been a part of something like that, your heart
knows that it would feel like going home.
When I finished writing I looked at the paper
for a few minutes. On the front is a dot matrix printout of Viva’s inventory,
along with the date - March 29th, 1999. On the back is the outline of a faith
community that I would love to be a part of someday. I put the paper in a safe
place and never forgot it.
Every so often I find the paper, look at it,
and wonder what I would have to let go of to make this vision a reality.
rlp
