Losing Control

On this journey toward freedom I am recognizing some places that I have been bound. It has taken being "let go" from my role in the institutionalized church for me to feel the weight of the chains. Much of what I thought was helping me has actually held me back.

One of these areas has to do with my relationship with the leaders above me. I have held back from being real with these people. I have pretended that this was the right thing to do, that I was protecting them. I worried that they couldn't handle the feedback that I had for them. Not only did I protect them from my own feedback, but I put myself as a barrier, a buffer zone from other's feedback as well. I handled phone calls from unhappy parishioners, I had a file of letters from anyone that could be perceived having an attitude of negativity. I was a virtual virus blocker to any email that I thought was corrective to the elders. I consoled those who had been injured, pointing out what great medicine had been intended and asking them to overlook the careless bedside manners that may have hurt them. To the leaders I only let by what I thought would be helpful and uplifting. I thought I was doing them a favor, now I see what a disservice it has really been.

Now that I am free from the tinted view of the salary glasses, I am able to see things clearer. I found that I had things to share with the leadership team, things that I needed to say and should have said, but didn't. I wish I could blame them for this. I wish I could tell you they were abusive and demeaning. I wish I could tell you that they were manipulative, scheming wolves out to flock the sheep. It wouldn't be true. The only reason I didn't share openly with them was to protect me. I was afraid of disappointing them, that my approval rating would suffer, that I wouldn't be able to sit at the favored place at the ministry table any longer.

I have fought to remain in control, to be the master of my destiny; I positioned myself well.

But now on the outside of the religious box I am being faced with some of the same challenges. There are some people that are very unhappy with the circumstances regarding my removal. The temptation I face is to guide these people's responses for my benefit. Sometimes I would like to direct them to take up my case, to make sure that those in charge know just how wrong they have been. Other times I want to quiet those that are making noise, again wanting to protect the people and the institution that I've worked so hard to erect. But I'm beginning to see that both responses are still just me trying to control the situation. I am not considering what is best for those involved, I just want to be seen in a favorable light. I have been caught in the tyranny of man's approval.

I am wondering what it would be like to live a life where I truly championed others' choices and their freedom. I am wondering what it would be like to stop thinking I knew what was best for others. I am wondering what it would be like to pick up a towel and wash some feet at the table that I used to jockey for position around. I am wondering what it would be like to put this journey in the hands of Father and let Him figure it out.

I'd like to hold His hand and just walk with Him awhile. To do that, I've got to open up my fingers from their tight grasp of control and let go.

This is what it feels like
To face the truth
This is what it feels like
To know it's through
This is what it feels like
To say goodbye
This is what it feels like
For a man to cry

- Audio Adrenaline, "Losing Control"

Cliff Jumping & Free Falling

I have experienced some pretty crazy and radical things in my life. I’ve gone places few feet have tread and had opportunities that others just dream about. I’ve rafted rivers, climbed towering mountains, and hiked into a communist village where no American had ever spent the night. But one adventurous thing I really do not like is jumping off cliffs. I’ve done it, but not without some significant motivation.

The first time might be the most memorable. I had a few days left in Hawaii and the friend that I was staying with decided we should spend some of my remaining hours jumping off a cliff into the ocean. The height has fluctuated through the years in the telling of the story from 30 to 50 feet. I honestly believe the distance from leap to impact was somewhere in the middle, but it was more than long enough to feel the adrenaline rush in my core and to think I was going to die.

My friend went first. He jumped. He splashed down. He swam back to the cliff and scrambled back up.

It was now my turn.

I crept over to the edge and looked down at the waves below. My stomach wasn’t impressed and it shouted strong survival signals to my brain that were much louder than the machismo messages from my pride. I stood there for a long time and then backed off. I knew that others had survived the jump. I had seen it with my own eyes, but it just wasn’t translating into desire.

I turned to my friend. “Tell you what. You jump again so I can watch you closely, once you surface in the water I’ll follow.”

He jumped. I watched. Fear gripped me and I stood my ground.

My friend tried to bribe me to jump, tried to soothe my fears, but when nothing else worked he found some words that pushed me off the edge. “That’s fine. We can go home now. I just need you to know that my mom has jumped from that spot and she’ll be waiting for us at the condo when we get back…”

I jumped and I survived to tell the tale.

I love adventure, but I also love to be safe. And having performed some funerals for some people that didn’t respect safety, I know how important it can be.

But sometimes in my life I’ve used safety as an excuse. I’ve avoided things that would make me uncomfortable. The truth is that I’ve been afraid.

I’ve been afraid to leave my job at the church. I’ve stood on the edge for awhile now, looking over the edge at what could easily be a ministry grave yard. I’ve seen some people dog paddle at the bottom in senseless circles after leaving their jobs. I’ve seen some drown in despair after taking an entrepreneurial risk. I saw my mother thrown from the ledge of her occupation by the bosses who no longer had any need of her.

I’ve relished the power, the prestige and the (limited) profit that the ministry has fed me, but it’s made me fat and lazy. It would be good to let go, but based on fear I just.cant.let.go…

But then the word came yesterday, I have become expendable. "Pick up your last check, and God Bless you."

Push.

Falling.

Fear and freedom all in one flight.

This bird is no one’s baby and the nest was no longer a fit. This is a good thing. A God thing.

I have not jumped in presumption. I know that Father won’t let me crash into the rocks.

Here We Go!

The Significance of the Court

The believers were all meeting down at the temple, outside in the courtyard known as Solomon’s Porch. It was a significant setting, not just because Jesus used to hang out there, but because everyone had access to it. The Gentiles were free to roam in this courtyard, the women had access, even the cripples, diseased, and possessed. Of course none of these could go into the Temple proper.

In this location the believers gathered, the apostles shared their message of hope and the Spirit would come. Signs, wonders and healing were in abundance. It began to build energy and draw crowds. People began coming to the temple court as a destination, not just as a thoroughfare to the temple itself.

This made the religious leaders sick with jealousy. The high priest and his associates didn’t like the attention being paid outside the institutionalized temple. They were sure that these disciples of Jesus were in theological error and disobedient to the Mosaic law. I am sure they had great discussions amongst themselves of how damaging this group was becoming. Their stated motivation was one of holiness, but the one emanating from their heart was fear- fear of losing control, fear of being irrelevant, maybe even the fear of the unknown and the new.

So a power-play was drawn up and the apostles were arrested. They were thrown in jail for the night so they could sweat it out. The religious leaders planned a large hearing for the next day so they could intimidate these men into conformity of their religious system.

But Father had other plans.

He sent an angel on assignment to open the doors and let the captives free. The angel did the job well, conscientious enough to even lock the door on the way out. But his job was not over. He had a message direct from Father to share with the freed men. It wasn’t, “Flee to the hills”, “Go hide in Egypt”, or “Take up swords.” Instead Father told them to go back to where they had been arrested!

“I want you to stand in the temple courts and tell the people the full message of this new life!” Father instructed.

Why the temple courts? Because He no longer dwelt in the temple. He no longer fit within the man-made walls or the religious system; because he now dwelt in His people. And those Spirit-blown believers did just that. They went back to the courtyard and shared the full message of new life: repentance, not condemnation, forgiveness of sins, not guilt and shame, for all the people, not just a privileged few.

It drove the religious leaders insane. Their jealousy morphed to murder, all in the name of proper spirituality. They rounded the rebels back into custody, stood them before the entire gathering of religious law experts and gave them a tongue lashing. When it didn’t produce the desired affect, especially on Peter, who had been known to crumble under similar circumstances, they did away with their tongues and got out the real whips.

They beat them and bloodied them. They ordered the apostles not to speak in the name of Jesus. But it was that very Name that had made all the difference. It changed the pain of lashings to the joy of belonging. It made suffering disgrace a worthwhile humiliation. And they went back to the courtyard. They would not be dissuaded. They never stopped! Day after day after day after day they went back to the temple courtyard, and from there they went house to house because Father wanted it very clear that religion and all its perceived power will never measure up to the fullness of life that is in Christ Jesus.