2 Samuel 3:22-39
David has just sent Abner away with his blessing, and shortly after, David's leading field officer shows up. His name is Joab. He's heard that his personal rival Abner was just in the dining room of the king, and nothing was done to keep him there. Joab can't believe that David just let him come into his own house, eat his food, and send him away scot-free.
Joab confronts David and asks him, "Don't you know that Abner is up to no good? He's spying on you and trying to figure out what you're up to. How could you just let him slip out of here?"
Several years ago, there was a battle at Gibeon. Joab's brother was killed by Abner. Joab has been seeking revenge this whole time, and realizes that Abner was sitting in his own living room. So, he sends messengers to fetch Abner and bring him back. When Abner arrives, Joab steers him aside for a man-to-man. He slips out his knife and stabs Abner in the belly, killing him right then and there. When David hears about it, he laments the death of Abner. He calls him a "hero and a prince." David commands Joab and all his men to mourn the death of Abner and to lead the funeral procession with "loud lament."
As the funeral procession proceeds, King David follows the coffin and wears his heart on his sleeve. He's overcome with emotion and all the people see that David is innocent of the crime. David says that the bloodguilt from this crime will stick with Joab and his family for the rest of their lives, and says that violence, famine, and bloodshed will follow them wherever they go.
The part that sticks out to me is the context of battle. From what I've heard from my friend who's about to join the Navy, there is a training process that completely breaks the soldiers from carrying personal vendettas into military operations. That way, when a soldier's friend or family member is killed in battle, there is less of a chance that the reason to fight becomes personalized.
Although I've never been in battle and don't ever plan to, there is a principle here that applies to other situations including the church.
When I joined the church, I never signed up for watching my gay friends be told they weren't welcome or that they were abominations. I never signed up for being sent home from a summer camp for having tobacco. I never signed up for the mess. I never signed up to be part of a mission to change the world, only to see the mission become changing the aesthetics of a building.
As a result, I've retaliated over and over. I've sent angry emails to church pastors. I've inwardly and outwardly rebelled out of disgust for the Whore. I've wooed people away from the Church, thinking that it was more harmful to invite them inside. I've tried being the church wherever I am, thinking that maybe I can make something that's so messed up look a little more beautiful. I didn't sign up for a mess.
However, the Church is a mess, just like war. There will be enemies. There will be battle right inside of the one place where harmony is the marquee slogan. There will be friends who are shunned, family members who are excommunicated, sins that will be condemned along with the sinners who live with them. There will be pastors who molest children, and there will be laymen who assault pastors.
How could I have never known about how ugly the church really was before I signed up to be an active part of it? Would it have changed my mind? Would I have given it a second thought?
When Joab signed up for the military, he didn't take into account the possibility that one of his brothers could die. After all, it was war. Because he didn't do this, he carried with him a seething vengeance that went outside of the boundaries of war. He carried a personal vendetta. Who wouldn't blame him though? The natural human tendency is to avenge the murder of a loved one.
If I stay inside of my little box called Ecclesia Clear Lake, I don't see much of a mess. I see beauty. Of course I have my own little grievances, but overall I don't see the corruption. I don't see the disunity. I don't see the foul play. But, we are called to look at the bigger picture as well. When I look at the big picture - the Big Church - the picture changes. There is corruption on a grand scale. There is misleading information, brainwashing, and money laundering. If the problem can be thought of, chances are it is happening inside the Church.
I've learned to not put the church on a pedestal. After all, it is a group of messy, screwed up, human beings. Why should I look at the church any different than I would look at, say, a political party or a corporation? Do I believe that Jesus is the head of the Church? Yes. But, do I believe that it is the responsibility of humans to be the light of the world? Absolutely.
In the broken system we call Church, signing up is becoming more and more like signing up for emotional and spiritual boot camp. We are going into battle, whether it be on an outward level or introspective level. My suggestion is, if you're not willing to see what it looks like when a pastor takes off without telling anybody, or what it looks like when the aim of the church goes from changing the world to changing aesthetics, then you're probably better off staying out or preparing yourself for battle.
This is not how it's supposed to be, but it is. I've had to take sabbaticals from the church. I've had to re-think and remind myself why I ever signed up in the first place. I've had to grit my teeth, eat crow, and at some points be completely overrun with anger and frustration.
Count the cost. If it's not worth it, it's okay. When I accept that hardship lies ahead, and that gross things are going to happen, I can remember why I'm still a part. Why? It's no different than anywhere else I am. Whether it's at work or play, my job remains the same. The mission doesn't change. I am to be salt and light. Where I am shouldn't be changing what I am doing. If I think the Church is a place where I can rest on my laurels and put my efforts on hold, then I'm only kidding myself and putting myself in line for another resentment and personal vendetta. But, when I see my part, my role in contributing light and salt, the Church and her people become no different than anyone else. There is no pedestal. When my friends get told that their lifestyles aren't conducive to the operations of the church, I can choose to bring salt and light into that. When the insiders become so inclusive that I wonder if there's even a world of people outside who are even interested anymore, I can bring salt and light into that. When I see on TV the next pastor bashing the lifestyles of anybody, I can bring salt and light into that.
Today's Action: Whenever I see something that I didn't sign up for, think of a creative way to bring salt and light into it.
David has just sent Abner away with his blessing, and shortly after, David's leading field officer shows up. His name is Joab. He's heard that his personal rival Abner was just in the dining room of the king, and nothing was done to keep him there. Joab can't believe that David just let him come into his own house, eat his food, and send him away scot-free.
Joab confronts David and asks him, "Don't you know that Abner is up to no good? He's spying on you and trying to figure out what you're up to. How could you just let him slip out of here?"
Several years ago, there was a battle at Gibeon. Joab's brother was killed by Abner. Joab has been seeking revenge this whole time, and realizes that Abner was sitting in his own living room. So, he sends messengers to fetch Abner and bring him back. When Abner arrives, Joab steers him aside for a man-to-man. He slips out his knife and stabs Abner in the belly, killing him right then and there. When David hears about it, he laments the death of Abner. He calls him a "hero and a prince." David commands Joab and all his men to mourn the death of Abner and to lead the funeral procession with "loud lament."
As the funeral procession proceeds, King David follows the coffin and wears his heart on his sleeve. He's overcome with emotion and all the people see that David is innocent of the crime. David says that the bloodguilt from this crime will stick with Joab and his family for the rest of their lives, and says that violence, famine, and bloodshed will follow them wherever they go.
The part that sticks out to me is the context of battle. From what I've heard from my friend who's about to join the Navy, there is a training process that completely breaks the soldiers from carrying personal vendettas into military operations. That way, when a soldier's friend or family member is killed in battle, there is less of a chance that the reason to fight becomes personalized.
Although I've never been in battle and don't ever plan to, there is a principle here that applies to other situations including the church.
When I joined the church, I never signed up for watching my gay friends be told they weren't welcome or that they were abominations. I never signed up for being sent home from a summer camp for having tobacco. I never signed up for the mess. I never signed up to be part of a mission to change the world, only to see the mission become changing the aesthetics of a building.
As a result, I've retaliated over and over. I've sent angry emails to church pastors. I've inwardly and outwardly rebelled out of disgust for the Whore. I've wooed people away from the Church, thinking that it was more harmful to invite them inside. I've tried being the church wherever I am, thinking that maybe I can make something that's so messed up look a little more beautiful. I didn't sign up for a mess.
However, the Church is a mess, just like war. There will be enemies. There will be battle right inside of the one place where harmony is the marquee slogan. There will be friends who are shunned, family members who are excommunicated, sins that will be condemned along with the sinners who live with them. There will be pastors who molest children, and there will be laymen who assault pastors.
How could I have never known about how ugly the church really was before I signed up to be an active part of it? Would it have changed my mind? Would I have given it a second thought?
When Joab signed up for the military, he didn't take into account the possibility that one of his brothers could die. After all, it was war. Because he didn't do this, he carried with him a seething vengeance that went outside of the boundaries of war. He carried a personal vendetta. Who wouldn't blame him though? The natural human tendency is to avenge the murder of a loved one.
If I stay inside of my little box called Ecclesia Clear Lake, I don't see much of a mess. I see beauty. Of course I have my own little grievances, but overall I don't see the corruption. I don't see the disunity. I don't see the foul play. But, we are called to look at the bigger picture as well. When I look at the big picture - the Big Church - the picture changes. There is corruption on a grand scale. There is misleading information, brainwashing, and money laundering. If the problem can be thought of, chances are it is happening inside the Church.
I've learned to not put the church on a pedestal. After all, it is a group of messy, screwed up, human beings. Why should I look at the church any different than I would look at, say, a political party or a corporation? Do I believe that Jesus is the head of the Church? Yes. But, do I believe that it is the responsibility of humans to be the light of the world? Absolutely.
In the broken system we call Church, signing up is becoming more and more like signing up for emotional and spiritual boot camp. We are going into battle, whether it be on an outward level or introspective level. My suggestion is, if you're not willing to see what it looks like when a pastor takes off without telling anybody, or what it looks like when the aim of the church goes from changing the world to changing aesthetics, then you're probably better off staying out or preparing yourself for battle.
This is not how it's supposed to be, but it is. I've had to take sabbaticals from the church. I've had to re-think and remind myself why I ever signed up in the first place. I've had to grit my teeth, eat crow, and at some points be completely overrun with anger and frustration.
Count the cost. If it's not worth it, it's okay. When I accept that hardship lies ahead, and that gross things are going to happen, I can remember why I'm still a part. Why? It's no different than anywhere else I am. Whether it's at work or play, my job remains the same. The mission doesn't change. I am to be salt and light. Where I am shouldn't be changing what I am doing. If I think the Church is a place where I can rest on my laurels and put my efforts on hold, then I'm only kidding myself and putting myself in line for another resentment and personal vendetta. But, when I see my part, my role in contributing light and salt, the Church and her people become no different than anyone else. There is no pedestal. When my friends get told that their lifestyles aren't conducive to the operations of the church, I can choose to bring salt and light into that. When the insiders become so inclusive that I wonder if there's even a world of people outside who are even interested anymore, I can bring salt and light into that. When I see on TV the next pastor bashing the lifestyles of anybody, I can bring salt and light into that.
Today's Action: Whenever I see something that I didn't sign up for, think of a creative way to bring salt and light into it.
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