Back to the Beginning

I am part of a men’s group that is an extension of our church. We’ve been meeting since, wow I don’t even know, probably a decade now. But lately, something hasn’t been right.

This band of brothers has been a rock for me over the years. We have collectively been through a lot in our lives together. I am a stronger, better man than I used to be and believe each of them feels the same way.

We have navigated relationship challenges, unemployment, job stress, illnesses, deaths in the family, taking our next steps in faith, and much more. We have persevered through advsersity and grown in our faith in God.

But recently something has been undeniably “off”. I’ve been increasingly frustrated over the past months. My patience has been short. I’ve questioned the return on my investment in our time together. I’ve even questioned what value that I and others are taking away from our gatherings. That’s not normal. I’m pretty sure others have shared those questions.

With the passing of time, there are fewer and fewer people at the table each night. One at a time and for various reasons, people have drifted off to other pursuits. New people have come to “try things out” only to disappear afterward or politely explain later that they would be following a different direction.

The truth has been staring me in the face but I haven’t wanted to accept it.

Our group is dying.

A once thriving circle that filled a large room to overflowing has contracted and its existence is in jeopardy. A precious thing is about to vanish.

What went wrong?

These are all godly men who are leaning into their relationship with Jesus. We have all devoted ourselves to our time together. We prioritize being in attendance.

Sometimes we bring in food and eat together to put everyone at peace. We share our own circumstances and those of the communities and countries we live in. We talk about how the goings-on of our extended families are impacting us. We tell the stories of what Jesus has done in our lives. We laugh and enjoy each other.

But somehow, it seems slightly wrong. Not because something bad happens during our time together, but it is…incomplete. Something is missing. Why was I leaving our meetings with an itch that I couldn’t scratch?

I needed to take time away and figure things out, but doubts crept into my mind – “Will they abandon me altogether if I am not there?” and “What if God calls me to a different path? Would I be able to leave them?”

I was unsatisfied with my status but afraid of change so I remained silent and took no action.

In our most recent gathering, things went along like they frequently did. We spent time talking about a particularly difficult time one of the guys was going through and another shared what was on his mind. For reasons I couldn’t understand, my stress level began to rise and my feelings eventually boiled to the surface.

Something was missing and I couldn’t avoid dealing with it any longer. Pretending it wasn’t happening made it worse. I sent a message notifying eveyone that I would be stepping back for an undefined time.

At first, I couldn’t gather my thoughts. Doubts swirled in my mind. Fear of an unknown future taunted me. Thoughts of blame and inadequacy arose inside me.

The first thing I had to do was sort out the complicated emotions that were dancing around in my mind. It is hard to silence a voice that tells you to protect yourself and shouts that others are creating the problem. Ignoring those spirits empowers them further and it became clear that no truth would reveal itself until there was silence.

My first prayer was for God to quieten the voices. The more I focused on unity with him, the quieter the voices became. Eventually they dissipated enough that I could hear His whisper. He said that I wasn’t the first person to struggle with this. To find an answer, he pointed me to 1st Corinthian, Chapter 11 (2nd half).

In Paul’s first letter to the young church at Corinth, he chastised its members for abusing the Lord’s Supper. In place of a reverent reminder of what Jesus did for us, they had created an event where people ate full meals and drank wine freely. A moment that had been holy had become something common. Their gatherings had devolved into some eating while others went hungry. Word spread of people becoming intoxicated.

Paul warned them that they were inviting God’s judgement.

This young, thriving church was seeing people leave, argue with each other, and their flame began to fade.

Unless something happened, it appeared that Jesus would blow out the candle he worked so hard to light.

My prayers shifted away from me and toward asking God how this dedicated, all-in church lost its way.

Here is what I believe happened.

The early church in Corinth was introduced to the Lord’s Supper by Paul. He led them through it, and they practiced the sacrament regularly. They could feel God’s presence move as they leaned into Him. As the number of times they completed it increased, they began to ask questions about the original Last Supper when Jesus spoke to His disciples. The young church studied His words, memorizing them and let their hearts be transformed.

It seemed a logical next step to grow their faith by examining the setting in detail – what foods were served, how people sat together, what they wore, etc. The more they learned, they chose to integrate pieces into this sacrament. It became more elaborate as it brought a story into life that they had only heard before.

People coordinated and carefully prepared each dish. They studied and brought the same type of wine that Jesus probably shared with his disciples and served food in the same sequence. They sat in groups of about a dozen each.

Gradually, they made plans with each other to share the meal with specific people they cared most about. As the church grew larger it became impossible to schedule everyone eating at the same time. The single unified voice of prayer was cascaded down into the different groups.

Eventually, a family ran late. By the time they arrived, everyone was already eating and there were no seats left. A mother told her hungry children they could eat when they got home. Another man worked hard all day with no time for breakfast or lunch. Already faint with hunger when he arrived, the first glass of wine went straight to his head.

By the time one of the elders arrived, the event had deteriorated so far it did not resemble the original. This elder reached out to Paul for advice.

Their “group” had lost its way.

In their pursuit of a perfect event, they lost sight of their singular purpose. With the best of intentions, Jesus had moved from the only focus to a shared focus, and a group of passionate believers stumbled down a bad path.

I closed my Bible and sat in silence. If a few of the words were changed, this was a stark description of my recent men’s gatherings.

We had also lost our way.

I prayed again, “God, what do we do? How do we get back on path?”

His response?

“Read it again.”

The second time through I studied Paul’s response. After he warned them of the dire consequences of the path they were on, he reminded them what was special about sharing in the Lord’s Supper. He repeated the same thing he had told them the first time they sat down to share it together.

He took them back to the beginning.

I closed my Bible again and asked God to forgive me for failing him.

Without intention, we had also taken Jesus off of center stage and invited him to take a seat at the table with us. Once he was seated there, the gradually increasing background noise made it difficult to hear him and we had begun to talk to the people closest to us. Eventually, we didn’t notice that he had fallen largely silent.

The absence (or infrequency) of His voice was obvious to “first-timers” who came once and moved on. For the faithful rest of us, it was so gradual we hadn’t perceived it happening.

We had taken something holy and allowed it to become common.

I like to think that I am a mature believer who has gained a share of wisdom over the years. I want to believe that my life shines as an example to others and demonstrates who Jesus is. I see my circle of friends as a pillar of support.

It is embarassing to admit that I allowed this to happen in a gathering I value, while meeting in my home, and in a setting where I can influence the outcome.

The harsh reality is that I am a weak person. I show strength by sharing with others what He first shared with me. I seem wise when I repeat what He says. Unless Jesus has my full attention, I will always feel like something is missing.

It may be painful to admit but I surrendered something sacred to become ordinary. I took my eyes off the Creator and turned them toward something else. I allowed noise to drown out the sound of his voice.

What comes next?

There are still important questions that need answers. There is more humility that I must gain.

I need to seek him out, sit at His feet, and listen to what He has to say. He will lead us back onto the path without judgement or shame.

He is the author of life and He wants our group to be full of that life. He can heal something that is dying and resurrect something that is dead.

We just need to return to the beginning.