The evolution of my theology was, at first, gradual before it became a slap in my face.
For some time, my wife and I were members of a small church that maintained a regular attendance of about 50-60. Only a few months before changing churches, I was asked to teach the adult Bible class on Sunday mornings. Both my own study in preparation for class and the interaction I had with a couple of the members in the class opened my eyes to a problem I had not previously recognized.
My own personal Bible study led me to create a class centered around a central theme: Mature faith is motivated by the hope that we run toward and not the fear of that from which we are running away. In other words, do you go to church because you are afraid of going to Hell or because you just want to be closer to Jesus?
As a basis for my curricula, I used the book “The Jesus I Never Knew” by Philip Yancey. In his book, Yancey wrote about his rediscovery of a very personal, loving, and compassionate Jesus. To a very naïve me, I did not recognize the danger in teaching about loving the Love of Jesus to a room full of long-time Christians.
I will not go into much detail now about what I was teaching because that deserves more time and will be discussed later. I will say I am sure I got much more out of it than I could adequately convey to the class. I began to appreciate Jesus more.
I came to the realization that Jesus’ mission here was not merely to help get us to Heaven when we die. He spent so much more of his short ministry concentrated on teaching how to make life better for the Living.
The better I understand this, the better every moment of my life can become because then I am not simply running from Hell or wistfully waiting for a reprieve from this life. When I know how Jesus sought to make this world better, then I can finally understand how to experience it. And how to work to make it better myself.
So my first moment of awakening–aside from my own study–aside from my own study–came when one of those women we colloquially refer to as “the little old lady on the front pew” challenged me in front of the entire class.
Seemingly out of nowhere, she asked me why anyone should listen to anything I taught seeing as how I could not bother to bring my family to church on Sunday nights. She continued on: “And how to do you expect to lead your neighbors to Christ when they see your car still in the driveway and that you aren’t dedicated enough to be here every time this church meets?”
How would you have responded to this? Would a question like this make you angry, embarrassed? Would you shut her down? Ignore it and continue teaching? Or give up the effort altogether?
In those seconds–and even years–following the question, I have experienced all of those emotions. Follow and check back for my next post to see how I responded and the effect it has had on my relationship with God and people in church ever since.