Of Purpose

What a funny post title. Confession time: I've been listening to Justin Bieber's new album, entitled "Purpose," a lot recently, and have no shame in it. I think the Biebs did a pretty good job this time around. I pick and listen to my music at face value, not based on who the person is. However, the caveat is that an artist's music is typically reflective of their character on many levels.

Having mentioned the Biebs, I'm also sure that many people have seen his recent clips and remarks about the Christian faith. Based solely on what he's said, it's amazing how someone like him has a better grasp on our faith than many who call themselves "Christian." I'm not advocating for Bieber in saying that he has sound theology, because he doesn't, but he understands that at the core of our faith is our relationship with and to Christ. It amazes me that there are Christians who are practically born into the church and still see their lives as to having to earn favor with God. Like, if we do something well, we feel entitled to God's blessings. Nothing's ever going to make God love us more or less, so put away the record book of all the times we think we did something to please God. We all know that in due time, we're just going to grab that book when times are rough and complain to God about why he didn't give us this and that when we were in a good stretch.

Anyways - I'm off the rails a little bit.

In recent weeks, I've been burdened with the whole thing about purpose. If you read the posts I've written since I started titling each entry with "Of...," you'll sense that a lot of my thoughts deal with the intent of addressing purpose behind each topic. What's the purpose behind this or that?

A while ago, I wasn't happy with my daily studies and prayer life. So I began asking God to give me the passion and the desire to be in his word and to find joy in growing closer to him. What I wasn't honest about was that this prayer and request sprouted from comparing myself to some rather big names and highly respected people in the Christian circles. I looked at a lot of these people, somewhat envious of what they seemed to have in a strong and faithful life, and wanted it for myself. So in a moment of teachability, God seems to be responding to me in a way that has lead me to go down the alley of asking me, "what's the purpose of you wanting this?" Do you want to do this so people can look at you and say that you have it all together? Or are you doing this because you truly love me and want to be with me?

In other words, the battle I'm fighting right now is that I am almost using the excuse of getting close with God to be the reason I need to run a good show. Basically, I'm trying to do it all under my power.  I'm not intentionally thinking it, but I'm acting in a way that says if I do everything properly, like according to some formula, then people will be drawn to God. So, while a lot of this, I think, is okay, I'm forgetting that it's the Holy Spirit that ultimately draws people to Christ. Therefore, when I don't see the response that I envision from doing something, I get utterly discouraged and upset. By asking for a passion to study the Word based on a slightly skewed reason, it's symbolical to the way I'm approaching things in a way that makes me think I will bring people to God simply by the fact that I'm doing it properly.

Where are the fruits of my labor? This is essentially the complaint that I'm wearing on my heart. So many pastors struggle with this, and I'm no different. I wish I wasn't so selfish in thinking that by putting time and effort in, I should be seeing results. I mean, who am I to be the one who determines if people will gain an affection for God? It's not up to me, and yet I act like it is.

The point here is that I've been so focused on making things work so that people can encounter God, I'm neglecting the purpose of why we want people to encounter him. I'm so concerned with building a beautiful bridge that people will want to cross that I, in many ways, am trying to beautify the pathway more than the destination itself.

I'm having a hard time describing how I feel exactly because I'm not good at putting into words the minor, but important, differences in how I'm running my ministry. So I'll try to use an example to illustrate.

One question I've kept asking over and over is that if I'm and outsider and visiting my church, whether as a one time thing or in search for a church to attend regularly, would I want to stay? I've never had to think long, the answer has always been easy to arrive at. I can get into a lot of reasons and observations that won't help the cause, but there's something else that needs to be unpacked. The question by itself is perfectly reasonable and necessary to ask, but why am I asking this question in the first place? What is the process that has lead me to asking such a question? Am I asking this because I'm curious to know if our church points toward Christ in everything we do? Or am I asking this because I have a presupposition of what a healthy church should look like, and that people who come will speak well of it? Both questions aren't terrible, but it leads me to addressing something I cannot neglect.

What all of this has lead me to is the purpose of why I'm doing anything at all. When I look at my church and the ministry, what's our purpose supposed to be? Are we a church that's just for our group of families and friends to get together? Or do we exist to serve a greater purpose? Christ very clearly said that we need to bring his light into the world, and I just think we too often get caught up in the secondaries that we forget why we do anything to begin with.

God delights in us when we respond in faith; we exist as a church to show people this light. I just don't like that many churches, including my own, have defaulted to either a club that's just for the people who's part of the group, or a clinic where all we try to do is fix people. Let's get back to doing church the way that we are meant to live as Christians: fostering the relationship we have with Jesus Christ.

This was a really hard post for me to write - it took an hour and a half to get some barely comprehensible thoughts onto the page. I'm thankful that I'm in this period of searching, because I know there's learning and growing to be had. And thank you for bearing with me.