ordinary radical

I have recently experienced a number of events that I can only describe as life-changing. First, about three years ago, I became one of the worship leaders at my church. Second, I took a class for worship leaders, taught by Jeff Deyo and his band, called “Pure Worship Institute” (if you ever get the chance to go, go!). Third, I read a book called “Irresistible Revolution” by Shane Claiborne. Finally, the venue at which I have been a worship leader since 2005 has been temporarily (I hope!) ended. The first event taught me who God was. The second event taught me how to worship God. The third event pricked my heart, and let me know how much more there is to be done and that singing songs once a week for God isn’t enough. The fourth event has been a catalyst to shake me out of the rut I’ve settled in after the initial excitement over being a musician at church.

“Irresistible Revolution”, describes how the author, Shane Claiborne, develops a social conscience as he matures as a Christian. He finds out how much need there is both in the world, and in his own neighborhood in Philadelphia. Once Claiborne’s eyes are opened, he is no longer satisfied to hang out in a building once a week singing songs to God, then to return home for the next six days to live his life the way he always has. He determines to make a difference in the world by doing whatever he can. It’s an amazing book, and I highly recommend it to anyone who calls himself or herself a Christian.

After reading this book, I keep finding myself drawn to the same conclusion that Claiborne comes to — it isn’t enough just to go to church once a week (or even seven days a week!). As Claiborne says, what if Jesus really meant all the things he said? What if He really wants us to sell all that we have and give to the poor (Matthew 19)? What if He really does want us to take up our crosses and follow Him? Am I willing to give up my house on a lake in Anchorage to do God’s work? Am I willing to quit my upper-middle class job to minister full time, if that’s what God asks of me? Am I willing, like Claiborne, to get arrested while trying to protect those who have no voice? Am I willing to overturn tables and chase the money lenders out of the temple, so to speak? In short, am I willing to be an ordinary radical (because I am nothing if not ordinary)?

I think I am. I am growing restless with the status quo. I want to shake things up!!! There’s a burning in my soul to get God’s work done, and it’s reaching a crescendo within me. I have recently learned a great deal about honest, authentic worship and I am feeling a push to teach that to others.

But the catch is that I can’t just teach it to others and move on. True religion isn’t about singing the right songs, wearing the right clothes, repeating the right words at the right time in the service, and about looking respectable in the first pew in the church. True religion is about relationships — a relationship with God, and a relationship with your brothers and sisters in Christ. Make no mistake, this is a heavy cross. It requires that you give of yourself to others. But this is also an very light burden and an easy yoke. All we have to do is love each other. What do you like to do? Do you play golf? Invite a new member at the church to go with you, or invite the unbeliever at work and tell him about your faith while on the green. Do you like to cook? Cook a meal for the new family across the street who has to buy groceries with food stamps, and offer it to them in the name of Jesus. In my case, I like to play guitar and bass and I like to fly airplanes. Maybe I could teach some of the teenagers at my church how to play so that in five, ten, twenty years, they can take my place as worship leaders, or maybe I could take the kid who’s always loved airplanes up for a ride*. These tasks are easy, and we will find that they bless us as much as they bless the recipients of our love.

As so often happens when God is involved, the assignment Jesus has given us is both a heavy cross and a light and easy yoke.

* As an aside, just ten hours after writing these words, I had the opportunity to do just this — one of my students at the flight school was hanging out at the airport with his three year old son, who loves airplanes. I sat in the right seat while my student flew around Anchorage with his son in the back seat. All three of us were grinning from ear to ear when we landed twenty minutes later. I can’t tell you what a privilege it was to be trusted with my student’s son’s first flight in a small airplane.