What I learnt from all the unreasonable people I met in church…including myself (Part 2)

What happens when I take the fact that God loves you seriously.

Once upon a time, I was in a church that was untidy. It was untidy in the sense that it wasn’t a slick operation. The PA didn’t always work, the worship team focused more on enthusiasm and willingness than musical ability, and there was usually something that happened in the service to remind everyone that this was not a performance or entertainment, but part of the community of God coming together.

It was a good church.

Churches, like families, have a way of forcing us into confronting the best and worst in ourselves, and others. We see all the weaknesses and failings in those around us, just as they see these things in us. This can be especially true when people have to work together in teams, serving on committees and organising events.

But even as we engage with people in the church we know very well that these are our brothers and sisters in Christ. These are people who Jesus died for, and we want to acknowledge that. These are our neighbours, who we are commanded to love as we love ourselves, and we want to acknowledge that as well. This high calling for the way we engage with each other creates a tension that I am sure God intended. We are required not just to work with the people around us and to put up with the things we don’t like about them, but also to value them, cherish them, bear with them, and love them. It’s not good enough to have a derisory or dismissive opinion of those around us. It won’t do to hide behind the tasks we do or the surface chatter of church. If we’re serious about this stuff we are forced to confront the issue of how we relate to those we naturally get on with, and those we don’t.

But doing this comes at a cost.  We have to sacrifice our own opinions, viewpoints, and judgements in favour of the divine perspective. Something valuable, the critical faculty we apply to the world and the people around us, has to be subordinated to God’s view of things. It’s a painful process, but if we persevere and let something of ourselves die for God, he gives us something better. In this case that something is the ability to see those around us from God’s point of view. We are gifted with a new perception of the person, and we enter into a new relationship with those around us; as a result, all sorts of unlikely and wonderful friendships can spring up.

The nature of these relationships as they manifest across the church is beautifully expressed by the Psalmist:

How good and pleasant it is

when God’s people live together in unity!

It is like precious oil poured on the head,

running down on the beard,

running down on Aaron’s beard,

down on the collar of his robe.

It is as if the dew of Hermon

were falling on Mount Zion.

For there the Lord bestows his blessing,

even life forevermore.

Psalm 133 vv1-4 (NIV)

For writers, there is an extra benefit to achieving this new perspective. We are not only blessed in life, we also gain an additional insight into our work. We can now present relationships that have reached this state with more authenticity. We have a blueprint from real life to show how the most unlikely characters can work through division and misunderstanding to a deeper place of peace. We can still present all of the struggles, and all of the challenges, but we now have an idea of what life on the other side of that struggle really looks like; and in presenting this we can give hope and encouragement to others who also working out how to get to that place of precious unity.