waking up

There’s something incredible going on in Haven. I mean, something I had never really thought could happen, but something I always dreamed of… And after four years, I am starting to see what I understand to be the beginning of a revolution. People in our community are modeling what it means to walk transparently before God. People are taking the Gospel for real, and are allowing it to sink in deep… and I mean real deep. It’s incredible because it’s unknown territory for me. I mean, I have caught glimpses of it before, but in the past twenty or so years of calling myself a Christian, I never thought that a community could be marked by transparency. I never thought I would see a group of people who are honest about being truly broken, people who do not claim to have easy answers (or any answers at all), people who care for others out of their own wounds, people who paint a real, vivid picture through their lives and actions of a God who lives and moves among us, a picture of a God who is able to do a good work in us, who is able to bring life to dead places. I never knew this God could redeem so many years of anxiety, barrenness, and disappointment except in books or testimonies from people I don’t really know.

This is not how I used to think church worked: I was always under the impression that your deepest, darkest issues were your own to deal with and no one else would want to nor be obligated to help you carry them. Basically, the message I got was that you just had to figure it out alone, you had to somehow keep it all together, all while making the appropriate sacrifices to the church (tithing, showing up to meetings, putting in time and effort). If you didn’t, you weren’t qualified to serve others. And if you didn’t serve, you felt like you weren’t really earning your seat at the table. And thus, transparency and being vulnerable with each other always seemed to be kind of an interruption to the program order. It seemed like church was about being busy doing things more than it was about seeing God in each other’s lives. There were times when having the “right answer” seemed to be the only way to fit in or gain approval. As a result, I felt like I was alone in many of my struggles, and that the people who actually had struggles were sort seen as unfit for leadership. So of course, I stuffed it down. And so the cycle would continue week in, week out, as the church worship service would be there to kickstart my week, small groups would be there to keep my head above water, and prayer meeting would be there to wash away my worries, only to see them re-surface again and again. I thought this was all there was.

I recently heard of the Post Secret project, where people from all over send in an anonymous postcard sharing a secret, something never known to another… completely in the dark before coming to the light of this project. There are some humorous ones, some sad ones, and some incredibly shocking. They range from being about broken hearts to illnesses to shameful acts to fears to sex, and also to God. Many of the cards have art or magazine clippings or some other kind of visual aid that help to communicate the often raw, edgy content. Tremendous amounts of courage go into these postcard confessions.

So I thought to myself, yes, this is what it takes to call yourself a Christian. To out yourself, to say what is really on your mind, to be completely real, and unafraid of being judged by your fellow man, because you know deep down inside that you are utterly bankrupt. And not only that, but that it’s only in this state of spiritual poverty that you are able to experience the true acceptance, forgiveness, healing, freedom and transformation that is available through the work Jesus accomplished on the cross.

And now Haven is seeing people who refuse to be owned by their fears. These people refuse to walk alone, they refuse to wallow in self-pity, and they bring themselves to face the reality of their own depravity. We are seeing people confront some of the darkest, most bottled-up, angriest, and most ugly thoughts and feelings. And all too rarely do people process this stuff in healthy ways (there are some who do share their darkest stuff, in bitter/cynical/judgmental/vomitous ways that do more damage than encourage).

A question once asked of me was, “Who are your heroes?” I can honestly say it is people who dare to believe that they can be set free.