LifeChange Community Church

Noah, Drinking and Legacy

Noah had a drinking problem.  Ouch!  That statement sounds ludicrous and offensive.  When you and I think of Noah, we don’t think of him as the planter of vineyards, nor as a man who would get drunk from the fruit of the vine and pass out naked.  Yet, the very last thing we are told about Noah, except how long he lived, is this sad episode.

The great news is that the good of Noah’s life far outweighed the bad and what we remember today is the good.

When we think of Noah, we don’t remember this sin from his life, we remember the years and years of faithful obedience.   We think of Noah building an ark in the face of a skeptical world.  We aren’t even sure it ever rained before the flood.  How crazy did Noah seem, building a boat, yet he did what God asked.

These are the words spoken about Noah in the Bible (Genesis 6 and following):  He walked with God.  He was blameless in all his ways.

His life and legacy is one of devotion and our memory of him is positive.  His legacy is strong and influential.

Certainly because I’ve turned 50, I think of my legacy more and more; that part of me that will be remembered, words that may be inscribed on a tombstone, or spoken at my funeral; attributes or stories my daughters will recall or pass on to my grandchildren.

Legacy is a question mark for me because a chapter of my life is written with the ink of sin and with the pen of selfish actions.  I wonder how much this chapter will define the rest of my life.  It can’t be undone.  It can’t be erased.  It won’t be forgotten, but does it define me?

I’m thankful for the many who have written me, or called to express how much previous chapters of my life still bless them and serve as a source of encouragement and help for them.  I appreciate those who have reminded me of the large stack of noble chapters (years of my life) and compared them to the very short, but intense shameful years.

I’m thankful that new chapters are already being written about my life, now back on track, walking with Jesus and once again given the humbling privilege of serving God in ministry.

Yet, I wonder, will the smear of those terrible pages be the ones called to mind when others speak about or think about me?  Possibly the verdict is still out.  And though it grieves me, from time to time, to have those pages tossed back in front of me by skeptics and others (even some Christians) I am steadily coming to grips with the part I can play regarding legacy.

I must embrace and allow my soul to be nourished by the grace of God that has in fact washed all my sins away.  I must keep my face turned toward the future and not give time nor attention to my past.  I must rejoice in the good, endure through the consequences, stand firm in future temptation and be faithful to the calling now before me.

I can only take the pen of opportunity and the ink of a fresh start with God today and write new pages, new chapters about God’s reclamation of one of His wayward kids….me.

The real story of my life and the legacy that CAN BE is not that I ran away from God, but that He loved me back!   The story of my life is not that I blew my chance with God, but that He has given me another chance.  The story of my life isn’t that I stopped my journey with God, but that He has given me a fresh start, a re-start on my journey.

If God grants me life, I will write this story faithfully…and more…I will lead a church that proclaims this fascinating message that anyone…everyone can have a fresh start with God.

This Sunday, weekly services begin at Life Change Community Church, at the Calabasas Commons, inside the Edwards theater at 10 a.m..  This Sunday, I will begin a 12 week teaching series:  Running Away from God and Coming Back to Him.


I look forward to seeing you.  I hope you attend.  I hope you embrace the opportunity for a fresh start with God.

I believe in Praying from the Heart, Conversationally

I believe in praying from the heart, conversationally. I’ve never really been one to recite memorized prayers or to repeat the same prayer over and over again, as if by repetition I somehow coax God to respond.

Prayer is not an incantation and I truly believe that God listens to the motive of the heart rather than to the words of the mouth. Effective praying, then, is heart-felt, sincere from inside of us right to the inside of God.

That said, there have been occasions where prayers spoken or written down from years past have had a profound impact on my life when I have read them. I ponder the import of the sentences, of the requests, of the….prayer. I feel the heart behind the words, the intent behind the verbiage.

If you and I can pray a written prayer and let it come from a deep place…rather than just mere reading…then, I think, that prayer can truly be ‘ours’ and give expression to deep longings in our own spiritual journey.

One such prayer that moves me deeply, that I can pray sincerely and that represents the true desire of my heart and the passion of my faith, is the ‘Peace Prayer’ of Francis of Assisi, a Catholic priest from another, ancient era.

See if you can slowly, thoughtfully and sincerely pray this for yourself. Let the words become yours. Carefully pause at each stanza and reflect. Whisper, “Yes, Jesus, this is what I want in me.”

“Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen”

My Struggle to Follow Jesus

It is excruciating to give control of my life to ANYONE.  There is within me an independent streak, bred into me, developed and refined through the years and stubbornly strong like steel.

So, I have much angst when I read parts of the Bible that demand that I surrender my life, give control of my life, entrust my life to Jesus Christ.   Let me be clear…for the decades that I have known Him and followed Him, I have found Him to be nothing but trustworthy.  The problem is not with Him.  The problem lies within me.

Here is one of those very challenging parts of Jesus’ teaching:

“’If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me.  For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel’s will save it.”   Mark 8:34-35.

Walk with me step at a time through this:  “If anyone would come after Me(follow, become a student of, love)…”

I fall into that category.  Though I have had seasons where I wanted to go my own way, follow MY heart, do MY will…the overall trajectory of my life since eight years old has been following the leadership of Jesus Christ.   I would STILL like to ‘come after Him.’

It’s the next part that creates anxiety:  “Let him deny himself…”  Now, what does that mean?  Obviously, there are two people vying for say-so in my life—Me, myself and I…and Jesus.  Just like there are not two Presidents of the United States, nor two kings seated on a throne, nor two CEO’s of a company, there cannot be a sharing of say-so in my life.

I’ll either do what I want…thus NOT denying myself…or, I will yield, submit, surrender to Him.

Many of us use language like this:  God, I want Your will.  I want this, but you want that…I’ll do what YOU want.   We have prayed like Jesus did the night before He was killed, “Father, not MY will, but YOURS be done.”

Sounds nice.  Tidy.  Spiritual.  Even Super Spiritual.

But oh my!  Tough, tough, tough to do.

It’s like I want God in the passenger side of my car.  He can read the map, He can make suggestions about route and speed and even comment on the scenery.  He can occasionally hold the wheel (from His side of the car) while I eat a burger or chat on the phone.  But…BUT…I like the feel and view from the driver’s seat.  It’s hard to get out of the car, walk to the other side, strap into the passenger seat and give up control.
It feels terribly much like I am losing control; losing myself.

And in that moment, Jesus whispers:  Exactly.

He said it so clearly, recorded in the Gospel of Mark:  Whoever loses his life for My sake and the gospels will save it.

I can cling and control and complain and try to steer my life, my way, all in an effort to keep my life.   And in doing that, I consistently wreck and lose precious parts over and over again.

It is when I entrust the direction and decisions of my life to the Life-Giver, the Life-Sustainer, the Life-Architect, that I begin to truly live the life I was destined to live.

But it hurts.  Parts of my life that I don’t want to yield…parts I love….I slowly release my grip, open my hand and trust God to decide what He allows me to keep and what He takes away.

I hate when He takes something away.  Feels like losing, like dying.

This is the point of my conflict.  This is the point of my spiritual struggle; to let go of what I love and to then trust the outcome of life to the ONE who loves me best…and to BELIEVE that the best possible life—true living—will be mine if and when I give all of my life to Him.

See, Jesus said it’s like picking up a cross.  Do you know what crosses were used for?  They were killing machines, tools of execution.  And crucifixion has ALWAYS been painful.  No wonder Jesus used that word picture.  It hurts to let go.  It hurts to seemingly lose.  It hurts to give up, give away, and give in.  And yet…

…yet…this is the road to life with Jesus.  

Dang.

God, if you can do it another way for me, that would be greatly appreciated.

Nevertheless, Father, not my will, but Yours be done.

Community Christmas Celebration Update

Please check this link for the latest updates on our Community Christmas Celebration on December 13th.

Life Change Community Church Christmas Celebration 

Spiritual Growth is Slow

God didn’t say instantaneously.   He didn’t.  What God did say is that He is continuing His good work in us all through our life. 

Often I get frustrated with what seems to be the slow pace of my spiritual maturity, my consistent faithfulness.   One would think that by now I would ‘have it.’   I’ve been a Christian for decades, but the trajectory of my life still meanders.  There are seasons where my ‘spiritual formation’ happens by inches;  three steps forward, two steps back.  In that equation, I am a step ahead.  I have advanced.  Growth has happened, but dang…I don’t like myself so much when I take two steps back.

Have you ever said to God:  “I won’t fail You, again.  I won’t do that, again.  I won’t go there, say that, think that, react that way…AGAIN!”    Yet….YET….there we go again.

This reality of my life (and lest you feel smug, it’s the reality of your life, too) is that we are three-steps-forward-two-steps-back-kinda-people. 

We just are. 

And because we are, God sent Jesus to live perfectly and forgive us, so we can be “ok with God,” based on Jesus’ perfection, while we work and grow and falter and start again.

Here’s the deal.  I’m human.  Jesus took that into account when He decided to love me anyway.  And rather than focus on my meandering or condemn me for the two steps ‘back,’  He rejoices and welcomes me open-armed during my three steps forward.

No shunning.  No condemning.  No recoiling.  Just open-armed rejoicing.

God never said we’d learn to live His kind of life instantaneously.  He didn’t.  He just said He would continue to help us on the journey!

Ya gotta love it!

Oh, God, let it be like this

I can’t shake it.  It’s a phrase that haunts my thoughts at night, like some ethereal creature floating just out of my reach, taunting me.

There is this on-going debate going within me about this phrase.  It’s a war.  My soul says, “Yes, this CAN be.”   My heart says, “I so WANT this to be.”  My logic and observations declare, “This will NEVER be.”

The troubling phrase?   From the lips of Jesus:  “Father, let Your will be done on earth…JUST AS IT IS…in heaven.”  What does that mean?   What would life on earth be like, if even parts of Jesus desire came true?

Questions lifted my thoughts to heaven.  What is heaven like?  What will relationships be like?  Heaven will be filled with pure love and freedom from shame, and acceptance and peace with our selves, peace with others, and peace with God.

In heaven, we will live life with no reservations about others, where love prompts us to hope and believe the best about one another, expect the best, cheer for the best?

There, perfect love will cast out fear; fear of being rejected, judged, disliked, hurt.

I can’t get this thought out of my mind, this angst out of my heart.  Jesus EXPECTED that we could have some of the attributes of heaven, right here on earth.  I could.  You could.

So, why don’t I, in my life, in relationships, in interactions and conversations?  Why don’t we in our sanctuaries, our cathedrals, our churches, our services of worship?

Why isn’t the rule of heaven…well, the rule of the day?

To have heaven’s love existing between us would be a vision of revolutionary grace and mercy.  To have heaven’s love would find odd-pew partners side by side, engaging in conversation and laughter and hugs and worship.  There would be wounded marriage partners, bathing each other in forgiveness.  There would be adulterers and adulteresses, now clean, walking in the freedom of new life, free to experience new,  honorable love and meaningful love.  Addicts would be healed from shame, embraced by Christians, moving sober into a wonderful new day.  Republicans and Democrats would lay down agendas of their parties and find common ground under the rule of heaven. 

That would be something.  Wouldn’t it?

And the Word of God, Jesus-the very living WORD of God, described in the written word of God-- would have His rightful place as all wisdom and authority for life and love and relationships.

Opinions about one another would melt, prejudices would be cast off.  Hatreds would be forgotten, harms would be forgiven. Oh, if heaven could touch our planet, invade our home, fill our church, that would be something.

Wouldn’t it?

So, what I am doing about it?  Very little.  I hear sermons about forgiveness and yet people are not truly given second chances, fresh starts.  And I say nothing.  We talk about Christ making all things new, but it’s arbitrarily applied…and only some people are truly viewed as being brand new. 

And I do nothing.

There still exists in the church a hierarchy of purity, an obsessive preoccupation with how things look and where popular opinion and majority rule.

Where is the rule of heaven, when forgiven sinners still toil under the harsh gaze of their brothers and sisters in Christ?  Where is the rule of heaven, when man-made consequences are imposed on fallen saints?  Where is the rule of heaven, when there is so little of the heart of Christ?

Where, O Where will Jesus’ prayer be heard?  When will His desire be allowed?  When and where will we have moments and places for God’s will to be done on earth JUST AS IT IS HEAVEN?

God, I want what you want. I want this place, that kind of love and life.  No, I need it.  I just flat need it.

And so maybe, what You prayed for, Lord, I am supposed to help usher in.  Maybe the rule of heaven is supposed to be the rule in my heart.  Maybe in me, loving others JUST LIKE I love myself, and hoping for others and fighting for others and helping others JUST LIKE I do so for myself, will be the start of heaven in me.

And maybe, I am not supposed to watch a sister shamed, a brother shunned, even after they have been forgiven by the sweet touch of Jesus.  Maybe I am to shout down pretense, stand up for grace and pull my sister and my brother to the front of the church to teach us, rather than to the back of the church to languish.

What if it started with one revolutionary who has been so freakin’ blown away by grace that he or she just could no longer stand those polluted pockets of Christianity that hold stingily to grace, like it’s a personal commodity---and so he or she would have to scream, “STOP IT!”  Stop the hypocrisy.  Live with consistency.  Do unto to others, let love be your rule, invite heaven into this place, and finally, FINALLY have some thing, SOME PLACE that stops looking just like the world and starts looking like some place Jesus would call home.

That would be something.  Wouldn’t it?

THY kingdom come., THY will be done, on earth JUST AS IT IS in heaven.  Amen.

Welcome Message from Pastor Brad Johnson

A Welcome from Pastor Brad to Life Change Community Church

That Darn 1/10 Will Kill You

My daughter is coming home which is sufficient motivation to 'deep' clean the house.  I'm fairly neat, fairly organized, but come on, I am a single guy and my pain-threshold for 'messy' is pretty high.

Typically, I'll dust a little when the dust bunnies actually start consuming food.   I did cross a line this week when worms were coming out of an old sack of potatoes.  Eeewww, I know.  I just knew those little boogers were carrying swine flu in their back-packs.

So, it's time, right? 

I have tile floors throughout my first floor and had noticed a stickiness when I walked over parts of the kitchen.  Further, because I like being barefooted in my house, I noticed the 'feel' of granular matter, that was invisible to the naked eye, but not to the naked foot.

Aside from a random 'wet-swiffer' now and again, I hadn't actually mopped my floor in a year and a half.  I know. I know.  Not gonna win Good Housekeeping's Man of the Year award.  So, last week, at Target (my favorite store on the planet), I picked up the 'Wonder Mop,' and a bottle of Lysol lemon-fresh liquid cleaner-stuff and a bucket.

I knew that I had the right bottle because this particular make and model of Lysol declared on the front label:  Kills 99.9% of germs!!   Aha!  Just the ticket.

And I went at it.  Hot water, elbow grease, back and forth, soaking wet, all over the floor in the kitchen, the laundry room the down stairs bathroom, and both second floor bathrooms.  I scrubbed and mopped and scrubbed and mopped.

My house smells like lemon nirvana.  When I sat down to let the last section dry, I began to ponder the claim on the Lysol label:  Kills 99.9% of germs.   I'm not telling you that I could feel that last 1/10 of un-killed germs in my house, but I started sensing something creepy, sinister.  It's like I concluded that I had killed all the mostly harmless, non-lethal germs, but had potentially missed that rascally 1/10 of germs that are the most fatal---e coli,or mad cow, or coli-cow (not unlike holy cow).

Seriously, if the point is to rid my house of ALL germs, I hadn't accomplished my mission.  Sure, I tilted the odds in my favor, but hadn't solved the problem.  I could still have some nasty germ lurking on my tooth brush, or in my dixie-cup or on my pillow, just waiting for entry into my deepest bowels.  ugh!

Then, I thought about a spiritual application.  Self-help and good deeds and religion in general are kinda like Lysol.  Stay with me here.  They can do some good.  Rid you of bad habits, and negative thoughts and outwardly visible social flaws.  But what about that 1/10th?  What difference does it make? you ask.   All the difference for eternity, I reply.

You see, entry into heaven requires utter perfection.  Not 99% percent perfection.  Not even 99.9% perfection, but 100% perfection for every person, every time, now and forever!!  But how is that possible, you ask?  By asking Jesus to trade with Him your best efforts (and all your sin) for His 100% righteousness, I say.  Just like that.

He'll do that, you ask?  For everyone who trusts Him for it, I say.  All your sins are counted as cleaned away and all His perfection (100%) is counted as belonging to you.  Every person.  Every time.

So, when you evaluate your life and have a hard time wondering if you're truly forgiven by Christ, after you have trusted Him to forgive you, think this:   Is Jesus stronger than Lysol? 

For every person.  Every time!

No Idea It Could Get This Broken

This morning I emptied the dishwasher, not because I wanted to, but I had no where to hide all my other dirty dishes piled in the sink.  Because the water is a bit 'hard' in my town, there was a water mark staining the rim of a wine glass.  I am fastidious when it comes to a clean glass.

So, I took my dish towel and started the process of polishing the glass.  How many of you know the notorious reputation of wine glasses?  Thin glass breaks as easily as a butterfly wing.  Not sure why I thought I had to 'man up' on that stain, but apparently I rubbed too hard and the glass broke in my hand.  And most of the glass fell to the floor, shattering into a gazillion shards.   I had no idea a glass could get this broken.

No kidding.  I was stunned by the enormity of shatter-pattern across my kitchen.  There were shards on the rug three feet away, splinters under the cupboards, glinty slivers reflecting light almost everywhere I looked.  It appeared there was more glass AFTER the breaking than before.  It looked like ten glasses had broken, not just one.   I was overwhelmed and didn't even know how to begin cleaning up this mess.

Something else caught my eye.  A red spot was growing and pooling on the counter.  It took some staring before I tied the red spots to a throbbing that I suddenly felt in my little finger---yep, the pinkie.   A wicked slash right across the knuckle was opened giving blood uninhibited freedom to spill.

This broken glass thing was getting worse by the moment.  How could a slip or carelessness, cause so much mess and pain?  If I had been asked to calculate and estimate the volume of damage one broken glass could cause, I would have UNDER-estimated by a bunch.  I would have been no where near the guess-timation of how much time would be consumed cleaning the counter, picking up the big pieces, vacuuming the floor, washing, cleaning and bandaging the laceration.  I had no idea this could get that messy...that broken.

I have to tell you, this is an analogy for the shock and awe I experienced when I decided to 'live for myself,' and no longer for God.  Head strong and determined, I went my own way, did my own thing.  "It's time I did something for ME, after all these years of serving everybody else!" I reasoned. 'How bad can it get, really?'

ANNNND...I made this decision after guess-timating the cost.  Oh my, was I stupid.  I wasn't even close to calculating how broken I would become and how much damage I would cause to myself and others...not even close.

Someone had told me years ago that sin is 'fun on credit,' and you will never know the price until the bill comes due.

What if you had to live like this in other areas of life?  Imagine this at the grocery. There are no prices on items, you load your cart and you are REQUIRED to pay whatever the cashier tells you.  You can't take items back.  Once you get to the cashier, it's too late.  And if you don't pay, you go to prison and work off the debt with years of your life.

Fun times, huh?  No one would go to the grocery under those terms.  Yet, we go our own way, turn our back on God's wisdom and love, give ourselves to the fun of sin...and we don't even know the price.

When I sinned, I had no idea the years I would pay, the pain I would inflict, the shame I would feel, the physical toll on my body, the spiritual depletion in my soul, the nightmarish depression in my mind...no idea it could get this broken.

Fast forward to now.  This morning, I took all the shards and pieces and splinters from the broken wine glass and either sucked them into my vacuum or threw them away in the trash.  There is no putting the glass back together.  Humpty Dumpty had better odds and you know how that story ends.

But here's the beautiful thing about God:  Once I cried to Him, from a shattered, scattered soul, He came to me...RAN to me.  And for the last two and half years, He has been putting me back together splinter at a time, sliver at a time, shard at a time.  Oh, the cracks still show, but I am more like a glass than I would have ever imagined possible.  Thanks be to God who doesn't just throw us away!!

This morning I emptied the dishwasher, not because I wanted to, but I had no where to hide all my other dirty dishes piled in the sink.  Because the water is a bit 'hard' in my town, there was a water mark staining the rim of a wine glass.  I am fastidious when it comes to a clean glass.

So, I took my dish towel and started the process of polishing the glass.  How many of you know the notorious reputation of wine glasses?  Thin glass breaks as easily as a butterfly wing.  Not sure why I thought I had to 'man up' on that stain, but apparently I rubbed too hard and the glass broke in my hand.  And most of the glass fell to the floor, shattering into a gazillion shards.   I had no idea a glass could get this broken.

No kidding.  I was stunned by the enormity of shatter-pattern across my kitchen.  There were shards on the rug three feet away, splinters under the cupboards, glinty slivers reflecting light almost everywhere I looked.  It appeared there was more glass AFTER the breaking than before.  It looked like ten glasses had broken, not just one.   I was overwhelmed and didn't even know how to begin cleaning up this mess.

Something else caught my eye.  A red spot was growing and pooling on the counter.  It took some staring before I tied the red spots to a throbbing that I suddenly felt in my little finger---yep, the pinkie.   A wicked slash right across the knuckle was opened giving blood uninhibited freedom to spill.

This broken glass thing was getting worse by the moment.  How could a slip or carelessness, cause so much mess and pain?  If I had been asked to calculate and estimate the volume of damage one broken glass could cause, I would have UNDER-estimated by a bunch.  I would have been no where near the guess-timation of how much time would be consumed cleaning the counter, picking up the big pieces, vacuuming the floor, washing, cleaning and bandaging the laceration.  I had no idea this could get that messy...that broken.

I have to tell you, this is an analogy for the shock and awe I experienced when I decided to 'live for myself,' and no longer for God.  Head strong and determined, I went my own way, did my own thing.  "It's time I did something for ME, after all these years of serving everybody else!" I reasoned. 'How bad can it get, really?'

ANNNND...I made this decision after guess-timating the cost.  Oh my, was I stupid.  I wasn't even close to calculating how broken I would become and how much damage I would cause to myself and others...not even close.

Someone had told me years ago that sin is 'fun on credit,' and you will never know the price until the bill comes due.

What if you had to live like this in other areas of life?  Imagine this at the grocery. There are no prices on items, you load your cart and you are REQUIRED to pay whatever the cashier tells you.  You can't take items back.  Once you get to the cashier, it's too late.  And if you don't pay, you go to prison and work off the debt with years of your life.

Fun times, huh?  No one would go to the grocery under those terms.  Yet, we go our own way, turn our back on God's wisdom and love, give ourselves to the fun of sin...and we don't even know the price.

When I sinned, I had no idea the years I would pay, the pain I would inflict, the shame I would feel, the physical toll on my body, the spiritual depletion in my soul, the nightmarish depression in my mind...no idea it could get this broken.

Fast forward to now.  This morning, I took all the shards and pieces and splinters from the broken wine glass and either sucked them into my vacuum or threw them away in the trash.  There is no putting the glass back together.  Humpty Dumpty had better odds and you know how that story ends.

But here's the beautiful thing about God:  Once I cried to Him, from a shattered, scattered soul, He came to me...RAN to me.  And for the last two and half years, He has been putting me back together splinter at a time, sliver at a time, shard at a time.  Oh, the cracks still show, but I am more like a glass than I would have ever imagined possible.  Thanks be to God who doesn't just throw us away!!

Christian With Lesbian Desires

(The following was a topic of discussion among some ministers recently): A CHRISTIAN WOMAN, WITH LESBIAN DESIRES, AND WHO WAS SEXUALLY ACTIVE,  WAS ASKED TO STOP ATTENDING SUNDAY SERVICES AT HER CHURCH UNTIL SHE COULD ‘CHANGE.’

I TOTALLY DISAGREE WITH THAT DECISION.  HERE’S MY TAKE:   

  There seemed to be a process in the life and ministry of Jesus that was consistent (though not always linear) in disciple-making.  These process-parts happened concurrently, at times; separately, at others.

      Jesus had a ministry that was with the ‘multitudes.’  The crowds gathered and often, for their own reasons.  No one suggests that a crowd is a church.  In the crowd were all manner of people at all stages of spiritual formation.  Some were very far from God and were determined to stay that way (at least when they showed up in a crowd).  Others in the crowd were ‘not far from the kingdom of God.’  And others, like 11 out of the 12, had decided to follow Jesus, while wrestling to understand what that might mean, or where that might take them.

      When we have prolonged discussion about ‘letting someone come to church,’  we presuppose that everyone in a Sunday morning crowd is, in fact, ‘the church.’  And I kinda doubt that.  I more readily believe that what churches have on Sunday morning is a crowd, a multitude--with all manner of people there, at all levels of spiritual formation.

      And I also suspect, churches kinda like that because we know this is a terrific starting point for people (or re-starting point).  Jesus wanted everyone to be part of the crowd; so should we.

      Being part of the ‘church,’ is a different discussion.  And being part of leadership in the church is a different discussion, beyond that.  We know the Bible speaks to those issues.  Leaders have weightier requirements than do others in the ‘church.’  People begin in the crowd.  Through steps of trusting Jesus and loving Him, we each become part of His physical expression on earth—the church.

      Jesus modeled this:  He spoke to the crowds; He invited all to follow, and regularly, for those who trusted Him enough to follow Him, He would meet in smaller settings to give further instruction or illumination about ‘life in the kingdom.’  It was in the back-and-forth of these discussions, that the disciples ‘worked out their salvation;’ that is: what it means, how it looks, how it applies, and how to move deeper and deeper in levels of love for and trust in Jesus Christ.

      And…the disciples were allowed close proximity to the Savior, even on days when their ‘get-it’ factor was low.  Why?  Because the overall trajectory of their life, the intent of their heart was to love Him, learn and follow.  In this way, (three steps forward, one step back) the disciples kept making forward progress; became stronger and lived more and more the life God created them to live.

      Some of us have had seasons when we were not ready to do that in life (or in an area of life—i.e. sexual behavior; finances; kindness).  We ‘opt out’ of life in the kingdom, a pursuit to learn and follow Jesus on ‘the way.’  We go our way, and God lets us.  And, if Jesus’ model can be followed, He also lets us show up in the crowd ‘just to listen.’

      Why?  It is because those in the crowd around Christ, are those who became followers of Christ, over time.

      The greater the display of ‘intent to learn and love and trust and follow Jesus,’ the greater participation in the full life of God’s kingdom and His church.  

No perfection expected;  just overall progress.

      Perhaps my sister (and I am proud to call her ‘my sister’) would be well served, if she was invited first, to be part of the crowd that attends with her church on Sunday mornings.  Then, it would likely be transformational, if she was invited to become part of a smaller group of Jesus’ followers, so she could experience examples of love, hear more about the life God designed from scripture, and have time, in a safe grace-filled environment, to ‘work out her salvation,’ that is, figuring out how to love Jesus more deeply, follow Him more closely and live the life He created her to live.