[Continuing our current series (see the previous post below), we explore why being a part of a community of faith is absolutely critical if we are to grieve faithfully as Christians.]
Your first day, at your new job, at your new company.
Do you remember how that day felt? Perhaps one of your biggest emotions that day was anxiety as a result of uncertainty. Your excitement at your new fresh start quickly gives way to the realization of just how little you know about your new place of employment.
How does this new and different copier work? Is there a place I can store my lunch? What is the basic attitude toward vacations and personal days- is there a limit? Do I need to check with someone before I leave the building?
I began my new ministry work a little over two months ago. In those first few weeks I came to rely heavily upon our church secretaries and our executive minister, all of whom patiently guided me through what was certainly, to them, the most mundane tasks. Setting up my email, showing me how to use the copier, a tutorial on the different computer programs we utilize. Every part of how this church office runs is different from the church I came from- where would I be without these faithful guides to show me the way?
A significant amount of guidance is needed just to use the office copier on it's best day. Now imagine the copier is broken- what chaos! If we are this dependent on others when facing a broken copier at a new job, why would we think any less guidance would be necessary to walk through a time of grief as a Christian, when life itself seems to break down?
Perhaps the thing that frustrates me most about Christians who deny their need to be a member of the local church is the danger they pose to non-Christians when things get difficult. I could cause quite a bit of damage trying to wade my way through that broken copier, but it's no comparison to the spiritual and theological havoc that can be caused from a "lone eagle" Christian giving advice to a grieving friend or even trying to cope with their own grief themselves.
The problem is this: Without a community of faith to continually guide and correct us, we will always have a distorted view of who God is and what He is like. On a good day this is a dangerous combination of elements, but in a time of grief where we are vulnerable and asking some of the most difficult questions a human can pose, this is a theological disaster. A skewed portrait of God can irretrievably push someone, even ourselves, to walk away from God when we question his goodness and faithfulness in a time of grief because we have an idea of him that is not true...and there is no community of faith to correct it.
When Priscilla and Aquila met Apollos, they saw both his great potential as an evangelist but also his need to know the "way of God more accurately" (Acts 18). The community of faith set about lovingly guiding and correcting this young man's understanding of God, with the result that he became a great messenger for the Lord. It is the church community, Paul says, that enables us to "reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature...[no longer] tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming" (Ephesians 4). The faith community of the local church exists to help each of its members hold on to good and right views of God, so that when the wind and waves of life become violent, we will not be carried away.
At some point, all of us need to hear "It is well with my soul" sung to us, and only the local church can accomplish that great act of faith.
In storms we feel most vulnerable, and grief is one of the greatest storms we can face. In the church we hold up a Biblical understanding of God and hold fast to Biblical teaching for times of trouble. After all, grief is no place for the lone eagle Christian, but the household of God stands ready to guide, comfort, and teach.
