When Jesus Gets Locked Out Of His Own Church

Several years ago I was astonished to learn that a pastor can be locked out of a church - not by accident (I've done this to myself a number of times). I still remember the day my district superintendent (at the time) wanted me to accompany him to a meeting in a community of faith where the pastor had arrived at the church, days earlier, only to find it padlocked. As odd as this may sound - such is the unpredictable life of people who claim allegiance to Jesus on planet earth. This particular group claimed steadfast allegiance to Jesus, but weren't very enthused about some of Jesus' children whom the pastor was bringing into their facilities. They were God's children, but according to congregational leaders they were the wrong color. This was the 1990s not the 60s. Regardless of the decade, a cancer is a cancer is a cancer. Foolishness is foolishness no matter when it manifests. So my superintendent friend had to intercede and have the padlock and chains removed from the doors. Try picturing this, and you'll come up as confused as I am even to this day.

I was reminded of this episode while reading ReJesus, co-authored by my old friend Michael Frost and Alan Hirsch. The boys from Down Under reminded me of singer/songwriter Sinead O'Connor's album of 2007 entitled, Theology. They note, "Raised Catholic, the brunt of her attacks has invariably been borne by the church of her childhood, but the sting in her beautiful songs can be felt by any church or denomination that shuts Jesus out of its religious system. In her searing lament "Out of The Depths" she captures the Psalmist's broken-hearted cry for mercy. It begins with a paraphrase of Psalm 130:1 In her song (O'Connor) imagines this lament being sung for a God who is locked out of (his) own church.

This is actually the same thing Vincent van Gogh was trying to say in the late 1800s when he painted "The Church at Auvers". Take a close look at Van Gogh's depiction and you catch a glimpse of a church with no doors, no light, and no life. Life flourishes outside the church, but that is in spite of the life-less church of Auvers. Many people don't know that Van Gogh was at one time a student in seminary. His stinging criticism is more subtle than O'Connor's, but no less damning. It makes me think of another daughter of the church, Flannery O'Connor who describes the church pastored by Reverend Haze Mote, in her novel Wise Blood. She describes that congregation as being one where, "the blind don't see....the lame don't walk, ....and what's dead - stays dead!"

As frustrated as people like the O'Connor girls and Vincent Van Gogh may be, try and imagine God's frustration... Imagine the Creator God, witnessing the very humanity for whom God died claiming allegiance to God's mission on planet earth, yet, at the same time perpetrating a foolish obstinance. This is the risk God takes on us. We can get it right, or we can get it wrong. And the truth be known - even on our best behavior we probably never bat above .500. As Barbara Brown Taylor reminds us, no matter how hard we try to do things right we're going to always get some things wrong. And no matter how wrong we can be some things just keep turning out right. That has little to do with us and everything to do with the God who loves us. And for this I give thanks.....

In Christ,

Jon(the methodist)