Help Bronwyn
Bronwyn has to make a graph. She has chosen to compare information on three ice cream flavors: Chocolate, Strawberry, and Orange sherbert. If you came to her party, which flavor would you choose.
Thanks
Friday, March 11, 2005
Sunday, March 06, 2005
The Family of God
Twenty years ago Gregg and I attended a major denominational church. We were married there, sang in the choir, dedicated Caitlin at the altar and were, what we believed, committed to the body.
From time to time the pastor, a loving man, would stand before his flock and announce the numbers of people that had been added to the church that month through their confession of Christ and baptism into His family. We were briefed on all the successful Sunday school and witness training programs and the upcoming, exciting Cantata the choir was working on. The word of God was being preached and we were giving enough money to not only support our missionaries, but to even dream about televising our Sunday service to those shut-ins and remorseful gamblers unable to be with us in God’s house. We had baptized so many people in one period that a prominent member of the denomination made a gracious appearance to don the spiritual feather in the cap of the faithful.
Somehow, I think these presentations and visitations were meant to give us some sense of security that we were getting it right as successful harvesters in the Lord’s kingdom. Did I mention that the church served a meal made by the women of the church and fed mostly homeless people every Sunday evening without fail?
Not a few years later, this congregation met one Sunday with one group of individuals on one side of the pews and another on the other side. They spent what was meant to be a worship service in red-faced-jugular-bulging shouts of bitterness and division over the pastor’s desire to leave the present building to plant anew in the growing Northwest.
After their volleys of rage had done the damage, the pastor’s resignation was demanded. Of all the figurative “church barbecues” I have been to--- this one was the worst. No perceived success could have compared or overcome the real failure that was at the core of this congregation’s heart. It was all a façade. It was a time of great disillusionment.
Tonight I listened to a man tell a small group of people that he desired to be with them because he had fallen in love with them. I don't know why but I found this refreshing. The people he loves will probably never be congratulated by some celebrated member of the moral majority for congregational successes, and their sermons won’t be televised. But, his friends are the most successful people because they have loved him as they were commanded to do. Their obedience to be faithful in their love and presence in his life has made him a Genuine Success. Tonight, without numbers, programs or Cantatas, someone communicated authentically the core of fellowship.
I feel this night was glorifying to God. Intentional love is a mustard seed which deserves the patience to produce growth and fruit. Ironically, in this obscure catacomb experience, I remembered the words to a song my previous congregation would sing. They attempted, but never truly embodied the words. Some of you reading this may remember the words………(Yes they are cheesy)
I'm so glad I'm a part of the Family of God,
I've been washed in the fountain, cleansed by His Blood!
Joint heirs with Jesus as we travel this sod,
For I'm part of the family,
The Family of God
Twenty years ago Gregg and I attended a major denominational church. We were married there, sang in the choir, dedicated Caitlin at the altar and were, what we believed, committed to the body.
From time to time the pastor, a loving man, would stand before his flock and announce the numbers of people that had been added to the church that month through their confession of Christ and baptism into His family. We were briefed on all the successful Sunday school and witness training programs and the upcoming, exciting Cantata the choir was working on. The word of God was being preached and we were giving enough money to not only support our missionaries, but to even dream about televising our Sunday service to those shut-ins and remorseful gamblers unable to be with us in God’s house. We had baptized so many people in one period that a prominent member of the denomination made a gracious appearance to don the spiritual feather in the cap of the faithful.
Somehow, I think these presentations and visitations were meant to give us some sense of security that we were getting it right as successful harvesters in the Lord’s kingdom. Did I mention that the church served a meal made by the women of the church and fed mostly homeless people every Sunday evening without fail?
Not a few years later, this congregation met one Sunday with one group of individuals on one side of the pews and another on the other side. They spent what was meant to be a worship service in red-faced-jugular-bulging shouts of bitterness and division over the pastor’s desire to leave the present building to plant anew in the growing Northwest.
After their volleys of rage had done the damage, the pastor’s resignation was demanded. Of all the figurative “church barbecues” I have been to--- this one was the worst. No perceived success could have compared or overcome the real failure that was at the core of this congregation’s heart. It was all a façade. It was a time of great disillusionment.
Tonight I listened to a man tell a small group of people that he desired to be with them because he had fallen in love with them. I don't know why but I found this refreshing. The people he loves will probably never be congratulated by some celebrated member of the moral majority for congregational successes, and their sermons won’t be televised. But, his friends are the most successful people because they have loved him as they were commanded to do. Their obedience to be faithful in their love and presence in his life has made him a Genuine Success. Tonight, without numbers, programs or Cantatas, someone communicated authentically the core of fellowship.
I feel this night was glorifying to God. Intentional love is a mustard seed which deserves the patience to produce growth and fruit. Ironically, in this obscure catacomb experience, I remembered the words to a song my previous congregation would sing. They attempted, but never truly embodied the words. Some of you reading this may remember the words………(Yes they are cheesy)
I'm so glad I'm a part of the Family of God,
I've been washed in the fountain, cleansed by His Blood!
Joint heirs with Jesus as we travel this sod,
For I'm part of the family,
The Family of God
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